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The Krampuslauf (Part III)

Continued from Part II

The man gave no answers to Ylva’s continued protests.

The temperature dropped rapidly, becoming a chill so sharp it dragged icy claws across Ylva’s skin. She pounded her fists against the Krampus’s back, all she could manage from inside the rough sack.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?! This isn’t funny anymore!”

“Why, I thought you of all people would remember the legend.”

“What?”

“I’m dragging you to Hel, you naughty little wolf.”

A different kind of chill ran down Ylva’s spine. She clutched the rosemary that still hung at her breast. For a moment, she believed him. How else would he know her name? Ylva meant wolf—chosen for her even before her name day because she’d bite any finger in reach.

But then, the far more plausible explanation occurred to her.

“My mother put you up to this, didn’t she? Whatever she offered you, I promise I can make it worth your while to put. Me. Down!”

Ylva gave one last might struggle—to absolutely no avail.

Krampus chuckled. “That’s one way to stay warm. Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

Snow crunched, and another bird called, but not one that Ylva had ever heard before—and she’d gone on countless treks out into the wilds around the village, before her mother had banned her.

Something was very wrong. Ylva quieted to listen.

Krampus paused, wood creaked, and then warmth air surrounded Ylva. The burlap sack shifted, and the ground rose to meet Ylva’s knees as a beam of heat washed across her back.

She fought with the sack, clawing at the opening until the burlap fell around her and her senses struggled to take it all in.

She was in a cabin, similar to the ones in her village, but somehow utterly foreign. The walls were made of wood, but with a silvery color and a strange swirling grain that Ylva had never seen before. The floor was layered with fur rugs of creatures larger than any bear, and blankets woven with runes draped over wood-and-leather furniture. A fireplace crackled behind Ylva, the source of the bone-warming heat.

The cabin smelled like dry herbs, firewood—and musk, vanilla, and pine.

“Better?” Asked Krampus, half-chuckling, from where he sat in a chair by the fire. 

As soon as Ylva saw him in the light, she knew. There were no clothes under his furs, no other face under that goat-like one. The horizontal pupils of his eyes were not paint—they contracted as he looked towards the fire. His double-jointed legs ended with hooves, the source of his supernatural grace and speed.

He was exactly as Auntie Helda had described—dreadful and beautiful. His fur was dark like pine bark, his horns and snout and beard like a mountain goat’s, his eyes as watchful and predatory as a wolf’s. The long tufted tail that flicked at an itch on the back of his calf was like a bull’s. 

“You’re real,” Ylva murmured.

“Of course I’m real,” Krampus—the real Krampus—replied. “What else would I be?”

“You’re not a man. You’re a… a monster.”

“Is that so? I thought monsters were supposed to be terrifying? You don’t seem very terrified.”

Ylva’s eyes darted around, clocking her potential escape routes. But she’d felt that bitter cold and knew that even with her coat, she wouldn’t last long in that kind of chill. Besides, how was a mortal supposed to get from Hel back to their own realm?

Ylva returned her eyes to Krampus’s face, searching for some clue as to his intentions.

He leaned down and held a clawed, fur-backed hand to her. “You don’t have to sit on the floor,” he said.

She carefully took the hand, and he pulled her to her feet. 

“Tch. Your hand is like ice,” he said.

“Yes,” Ylva said, with the patience of explaining to a toddler. “It is very cold outside.”

“Apparently.”

Ylva almost thought she saw remorse on his face, but he didn’t say anything. She stood there for a moment, searching his eyes, then turned and sat across from him, pulling a blanket over her lap. It was a deep navy, embellished with constellations in the shape of runes.

“Do you like that?” Krampus asked. “I knit it myself.”

Ylva’s eyes darted to the rest of the blankets, and sure enough, there was a basket with skeins of yarn and knitting needles sticking out of the top.

Something leaped out from beyond the basket, and Ylva yelped—

But it was only a tabby cat—albeit one with eight legs and two tails.

“Oh, don’t mind Magni. He’s only a terror to the mice around here.”

Magni sauntered over, eight legs working in mesmerizing unison, sniffed at Ylva’s feet, then leaped into her lap and started purring.

She pet him gingerly, worried he might do worse than nip at her if he was displeased.

“So this is Hel,” Ylva said.

Krampus nodded. “Part of it, anyway. My vacation home. I’ve got a whole castle, too. It’s very grand.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Is that where you keep the other naughty women you’ve kidnapped?”

“Why? Are you the jealous type?”

“Maybe.”

“Good. I like being fought over.”

A new kind of thrill fluttered around Ylva’s rib cage.

“Who said I even wanted you that badly?” she snapped.

Krampus wrapped a long tongue around the clawed fingers that had worked Ylva’s cunt so thoroughly.

Ylva couldn’t tear her eyes away, not even to make a point.

Krampus shrugged as he lowered his hand. “I quite remember you begging me to fuck you, that’s all.”

“And you didn’t,” Ylva said. “Not really.”

“You seemed satisfied anyway,” Krampus said.

“Hmph. So now what?”

“First, we make sure you don’t freeze to death—which can still happen in Hel, by the way. And then we resume your punishment. After all, you’ve been very naughty.”

Ylva gripped the blanket tightly as her cunt throbbed.

Krampus insisted that Ylva drink not one but two mugs of a sweet spiced drink he called ‘hot cocoa’ before he was sure that she was no longer going to die of hypothermia. The cocoa was a bit like mulled wine, but with an earthier taste and none of the sourness of alcohol. She could get used to Hel.

“Now, there’s something you should know,” Krampus said. “If you beg me to fuck you again… I will. Eventually. But you should know—once I do, you won’t be able to return to the mortal realm. Or, more accurately, you won’t want to.”

Ylva snorted. “Confident, aren’t we?”

“I have a perfect record so far,” Krampus purred.

Ylva narrowed her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. “What is that, like three women?”

“Oh, hundreds. Thousands, over the years. And just as many men, too.”

That made Ylva want to turn and sprint out the front door—not out of any sense of fear, but just to wipe the smirk off of Krampus’s caprine snout.

“I’ve never met a man that could satisfy me,” Ylva said.

“I’ve never met a creature I couldn’t satisfy,” Krampus countered.

“Well, let’s just see about that.” Ylva set down her mug.

Krampus peered over to confirm that it was indeed empty, then un-crossed his legs. “But first, you need to be punished,” he said, patting his thigh.

Ylva crossed her arms. “Or what?”

“There’s no ‘or what’. Disobedience simply isn’t an option.”

“Why don’t you—”

Krampus stood and was upon Ylva before she could even get her feet on the floor. He hoisted her by her under-arms and then spread her across his lap, one hand on the back of her neck, the other gripping her hip.

Ylva wriggled, her heartbeat rising along with the throbbing in her cunt, and strange sparks of pleasure tingled in her core as Krampus easily held her in place. She pounded her fists against the sides of his leg, finding iron-hard muscles under the fur.

In one deft motion, he caught both of her wrists in his hand, holding her arms out ahead of her so that she couldn’t get leverage to push up off of his lap.

Ylva panted, letting her strength build again and thinking through what she could do next—

And then his hand collided with her ass.

Ylva gasped, and the shock reverberated up her spine. Just when she could breathe again, his hand slammed into her other cheek, arching her back again and then evening out the stinging heat.

The strange tingling crept up her neck. Maybe if she—

His next slap was so hard that her feet lifted off the ground as her body curled, trembling and tensing for the next strike, which quickly followed.

Ylva half-sobbed and all she could think was that it hurt so good. The tingling reached up around her ears and then pulled her head down, down. She was sinking and floating at the same time, and the muscles of her arms went slack, no longer pulling at Krampus. He let her arms settle against his leg, but kept her wrists circled in his hand.

“Naughty girls get punished,” he crooned. “Do you understand?”

If these were the consequences, she was hardly going to change her behavior—she knew that much. As his hand lifted, she braced for the next impact, but it didn’t come. Her body quivered needily.

Krampus leaned down so that the soft fur of his snout brushed against her ear. “I said… naughty girls get punished… do you understand?”

And then she did. If she kept up her behavior, she could expect—nay, count on—this delightful consequence. He’d never intended for her to behave. Ylva wriggled eagerly, then nodded.

“Good,” Krampus said. “I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

She listened for him to say more, so the next slap surprised her, and Ylva’s breath heaved, every exhale a moan.

Krampus’s cock pressed into her stomach again, and Ylva would have reached around to stroke it, if he wasn’t still holding her wrists—and if she wasn’t so dizzy. A series of lighter slaps let her float in the strange place and enjoy it. Then, just when the string became too much, Krampus gave her one last slap and then cupped her ass gingerly.

“This leaves such a nice mark on you,” he purred.

Ylva squirmed with pleasure at the thought of scratches from the birch interwoven with Krampus’s hand-prints.

“See,” she said, “I got through my punishment without begging you to fuck me.”

Krampus laughed a cruel, long laugh. “Oh, my naughty little wolf… your punishment is just beginning.”

His fingers plunged into her cunt without warning, sending her whole body shaking. He quickly found her spot and pressed hard, and Ylva had no idea how something that felt so good could be so unbearable.

She tried to pull her hands out of his wrist, or to wriggle off his lap, but every sharp press of his fingers made her spine weak.

Ylva gulped like a fish out of water, flopping uselessly in his lap as he drove her mad with that unbearable pleasure.

Time unraveled, and finally she whimpered, “Please…”

“Please what?” Krampus said. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

He pressed hard and Ylva’s back arched, breath hissing out of her before she could form another word.

She just needed his cock, any cock inside of her. She just needed him to fuck—

No. No, she wasn’t going to beg him to fuck her. She had a point to make.

“Just ‘please’?” He teased. “Oh, you must mean that you want to please me? What an excellent suggestion.”

Krampus shoved Ylva’s hips off of his knees and she thudded into the thick carpet at his feet—or, hooves, really.

He pulled her hands towards his stomach, so that she kneeled before him, eye-level with his cock—and she couldn’t help but marvel.

The throbbing length was burgundy in color, almost human in shape but subtly different in the curves, especially the rounder glans and swell of the center of the shaft. As thick as her wrist, it would stretch her in the most delightful way…

No. She didn’t need it, didn’t want it.

Krampus tugged at her wrists, pulling her towards his cock.

Ylva grimaced.

“We can go back to your punishment, if you’d prefer,” Krampus said.

 She couldn’t take even a single spank or a solitary second more of teasing, so Ylva brought her tongue up the length of his shaft and closed around the tip.

“That’s what I thought,” Krampus said.

Ylva wanted to wipe that smug look off of his face, but she scrapped all the ideas that would have brought her back over his lap.

The only option that remained—and a thought that made heat quiver up from her cunt—was to so overwhelm him with pleasure that he forgot to be smug.

Ylva moaned and took Krampus’s cock as deep into her throat as she could, then swirled her tongue under his tip and bobbed her head.

Krampus hummed approvingly.

Ylva took him deep again, then again, until her eyes watered and her drool ran down his cock and into his fur.

“My my, aren’t you enthusiastic? Maybe your punishment is finally working.”

Ylva nearly bit his cock, but she steadied herself. Sending him over the edge like this was still her best shot at winning.

“I suppose I could lend you a hand,” he said, releasing one of Ylva’s wrists.

Her first thought was to plunge it into her own cunt, but as soon as it dropped beneath his balls, Krampus said, “Ah-ah. You know what that hand is for.”

Ylva harrumphed around his cock, then wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, pumping in time with her mouth.

“That’s a good girl,” he crooned.

The words should have lit a fire in her, but instead they settled around her shoulders like a heavy, soothing blanket. The genuine desire to just bring him pleasure overwhelmed her. Her eyes drifted shut, and she lost herself in the rhythm.

Krampus hummed approvingly and stroked her hair.

Just when her jaw was almost too sore to continue, he cupped her cheek.

“Now,” he said. “Aren’t you getting a bit warm?”

Now that he mentioned it, she realized that her tunic and skirt were soaked with sweat under her coat. She was still in the fireplace’s beam, and Krampus’s teasing had her burning from within.

“Let’s get you out of these wet things.”

Krampus cupped his hand under the wrist that he’d been holding and helped Ylva to her feet. She was so dizzy and light with pleasure that it took all her focus just to stand.

Gently, Krampus lifted her coat off her shoulders, brushing his claws down her arms.

She stood, still in a sort of trance, as he unbuttoned her tunic and her skirt and peeled the wet fabric away, revealing first her bare breasts and then her hips, until she was totally naked.

Normally, she could hardly get half a breast out before whatever boy she was with bent her over—and she wasn’t complaining. She enjoyed that urgency.

But this was… something else entirely. Krampus really took her in, watching the firelight glimmer on her skin.

She watched the flames dance in his amber eyes, around those strange horizontal pupils.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. One of his clawed fingers hooked under her chin and angled it upwards. “Absolutely beautiful.”

His other hand trailed down her shoulder and cupped her breast, thumb brushing over her sensitive nipple and drawing a gasp.

The sound seemed to draw his attention, and the hand at her chin clamped around her jaw, lightly pressuring her throat.

“You humans,” he breathed. “So fragile… so lovely…”

One of his claws hooked into the cotton cord around her neck, snapping it. He lifted the little spring of rosemary. “Was this supposed to protect you from me?” He chuckled.

“Or just to smell nice,” Ylva murmured.

His nostrils flared. “You smell delicious.”

He leaned down until the tip of his snout, soft as kid leather, brushed against her nose. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he kissed her, and she kissed him back. Every little brush of skin against skin was some new and wonderful thing, and her fingers burrowed into his fur as his dug into her flesh.

Every touch, every taste left her wanting more, more, more, and she grasped and moaned and pulled. Eventually she leaned back to catch her breath and Krampus’s nostrils flared as he snorted a hot breath across her face, his long tongue catching against her collarbone and trailing up her neck, her cheek.

She moaned and shuddered, cunt throbbing, wetness from her prior punishments running down her inner thigh.

Her fingers grasped the fur of his chest.

“Fuck me,” she whispered. “Please.”

“That doesn’t sound like begging,” he growled, claws digging into her ass.

“Please,” she breathed. “Please, please!”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll faint! Please!”

“Why?”

“Because I want it…” She tugged at his fur.

“Want it?” He hissed in her ear, sending icy claws down her spine.

“Need it!” She whimpered. “Please, pleaseplease…”

“What a needy, naughty little thing,” he growled, grabbing her by the hips and spinning her, pushing her over the back of the nearby leather couch. The top was well-padded, and her toes just barely touched the ground.

Ylva wriggled, and Krampus’s hands clamped around each of her ass cheeks, claws digging in and making her back arch.

“Please, please I need it, I—”

And then he was inside of her, and every fiber of her being sang yes.

And there was more of him, and even more, and the stretch fulfilled her in a way that she had never known possible, pressing hard against her spot even though he wasn’t moving.

She clenched reflexively around him, her toes curling as her pleasure redoubled.

Krampus groaned lowly. “Fuck, you feel good. So nice and tight for me… I can tell you practice.”

“Please,” Ylva whimpered. “Fuck me, please.”

Krampus growled and his hips bucked forward, not entirely under control. But Ylva was too lost in her own bliss to feel smug—he was all the way inside of her, and it was everything.

Each of his thrusts pounded into her spot, and she transcended to a whole other level of incomprehensible pleasure. Every stroke was as sweet as a climax and her every breath was a needy moan.

Krampus held her around the waist, pulling her hard into the bottom of each stroke. She desperately wanted to cum and yet didn’t want it to ever end.

Her wetness ran down between her thighs, mingling with her sweat and pooling between her toes.

Krampus’s breathing accelerated and Ylva’s heartbeat rose with it.

He stroked faster, harder, and every stroke radiated heat through Ylva’s core. The dizzy buzz hit her as hard as mulled wine on an empty stomach, and Ylva floated on heat and pleasure.

“Yes,” she breathed, “Harder, please!”

Krampus obliged, though whether for his pleasure or hers, she didn’t know and didn’t care. Her moans raised to the pitch of the cats fucking in the barn.

“Harder, ha—hah!”

He pounded her so hard that she couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. His cock inside of her was her whole awareness, her entire world.

And then he growled one last feral sound and slammed in to the hilt, wrapping his arms around Ylva’s chest and surrounding her in fur and musk.

His cock throbbed inside of her and more heat ran down the inside of her legs. Ylva lost track of how long he came for, but it was long enough for her own heart rate to settle, for her mind to sink into a fuzzy contentment even though she hadn’t cum herself.

Krampus, still hard, stroked a few more times. Ylva whimpered, her weight sinking into his arms around her chest.

“What a good girl,” he whispered in her ear. “I think you’ve earned a reward.”

Before Ylva could wonder what it would be, she was back in her chair by the fire, Krampus kneeling in front of her, her thighs hooked over his shoulders.

His long tongue plunged into her cunt, the pebbled texture dragging against her clit. Ylva’s back arched and her fingers dug into the wooden arm of the chair.

“F-fuck, that feels good…”

Krampus leaned back for a moment and licked the mixture of cum and slick from his snout.

“Good. It’s a reward, after all.”

He plunged in again, and Ylva was already on the edge. His soft snout pressed against her clit as his tongue dragged across her spot on the inside. The base of his tongue was still thick enough to offer her some stretch, and with her clit assailed on all sides like this, she wouldn’t last long.

She reached down and gripped his horns like a lifeline, desperately rocking her hips.

“Oh T-Thor, yes, d-don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—”

Ylva’s breath trembled and then became a scream—one so ecstatic and shameless that she never would have dared make such a noise anywhere near the village.

Krampus’s tongue gently stroked, extending her pleasure far longer than usual, letting all the tension quiver through her muscles and turn to pleasure.

Finally, she slumped in the chair, feeling utterly spent.

Warm, furry arms cradled her and Krampus pulled her down to the floor to nestle against his chest. He stroked her hair, and she thought she might die of happiness.

“Fuck,” she murmured.

“What?” he said, pressing his cheek against her head.

“I hate to admit it, but you were right. I can’t go back. Not after that.”

“Welcome to Hel,” Krampus crooned, and she could hear the smirk in his voice—but for once, she didn’t mind it. He’d earned it.

“Just one thing, though,” he continued. “I’d prefer you didn’t scream another god’s name when you cum.”

“Oh? I should scream, ‘Krampus’?”

“That’s the name Odin gave me. My mother named me Helson.”

Ylva blinked. “Hel is your mother?” The eponymous goddess ruled the realm and had nearly as storied a reputation as Odin.

“Mhm, and it’s as horrid as it sounds. She’s always glooming about. So when you cum…” His claw ran down the edge of Ylva’s jaw, and she shuddered. “Scream the name I gave myself. Kare.”

Ylva played it over her tongue. “Kah-reh.” It meant curved, curly. “Like your horns.” She reached up and stroked one of the ridged lengths.

Kare shuddered. “Careful, or I’ll have you screaming my name sooner rather than later.”

Ylva nestled against his chest. “Just give me… a minute…”

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I must have satisfied you, little wolf.”

Ylva humphed and snuggled in, already drifting off.

Yuletide really was her favorite time of year.

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Shorts

The Krampuslauf (Part I)

Yuletide was Ylva’s favorite time of year.

The smell of fresh greenery indoors, all the little candles twinkling among the boughs—it was like bringing the glimmering night sky indoors to the warmth of the crackling fire. Then there was the singing, the games, the feasts, the wine, the drunken kisses, the sneaking outside for a little bit more than a kiss… the long nights had their benefits. The cover of darkness made all sorts of delightful deviance possible. 

On the new moons, when you could hardly see your own hand in front of your face, she only bothered pulling the boys a few strides off the path before reaching down their trousers.

They called themselves “men”, but they were still barely twenty, so they were “boys” to her. She’d just passed her nineteenth name-day herself, but she’d hardly call herself a “woman”. Women practiced embroidery and fretted about dowries and thought about finding a husband. Girls were still wild, unkempt things with dirty feet and tangled hair.

It was the day before the solstice, and Ylva rode Petrie, the butcher’s son, on a snowbank behind the meat shop. Strands of wavy brown fell loose from her braid clung to her face. Her fur coat and tunic were half-unbuttoned, and Petrie grasped her bare breast.

The cold hardly bothered her—her body ached with so much heat. She loved being on top—she could rock her hips just-so and almost always cum.

“Y-Ylva, I’m close…”

“Me too,” she whispered. “J-just a few minutes more—oh, this feels so good…”

“M-minutes, Ylva… I’m not… I’m gonna…”

Ylva lifted her hips just in time—Petrie’s seed spilled out over onto his stomach.

Ylva huffed and plopped into the snow next to him.

“Why did you stop?” Petrie said, sounding disappointed.

“Because I don’t want to get pregnant. I told you that,” Ylva said. “Besides, you can touch it yourself. And not just now. Any time, did you know that? You won’t even go blind or turn into a goat or whatever your mother tells you.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because maybe if you did that a little more, you’d last longer,” Ylva snapped. “But if I’m the first hot thing to touch your dick in a week, of course you’re going to pop like a keg.”

“We-we could go again,” Petrie said, hopeful.

Ylva signed. “No, I’m not in the mood to suck cock.”

“Well, but… you were just…”

“No, now I’ve got to be careful. That…” gestured to the smear of white on Petrie’s cock and stomach, “Is what gets you pregnant, you know. You have to wash it with soap and make water before it’s safe again.”

“Says who?”

“Says Auntie Helda.”

“That old witch? You can’t trust her.”

“Oh? Didn’t you trust her when Grulna missed her bleeding last year?”

Petrie exhaled sharply. “We’re done here.”

“Good, I already said I wasn’t in the mood. I’m leaving first. And don’t bother slipping me another note until you can last longer than it takes to wash your hands, hm?”

Ylva stalked off into the snow. She knew the last jab was unnecessary—but so was the discombobulated arousal she was going to be stuck in for the next few hours. She could use her own hands, too, but sex was always such a strong sensation, it took a few hours before she was sensitive enough. Ylva buttoned up her coat and clomped out from behind the butcher’s shop.

Other villagers hustled to-and-fro, walking by the gold light of the candles in every window and the thin silver of the moon, finishing preparations for the solstice celebrations.

Seeing the massive evergreen in the center of the town square with every candle proudly lit, limbs sparkling with ornaments that held well-wishes for the next year, improved her spirits a tad.

Still, it was too cold to just stand around, and Ylva wasn’t quite ready to head home. That left only one place to go. 

As Ylva pushed into the little herb shop, the jingle of the bells on the door and the scent of dried sage and tarragon greeted her.

A fat calico cat jumped down from the windowsill and wove between Ylva’s legs, purring. She bent down and scratched the cat’s rump.

Auntie Helda stepped out from behind a shelf of pickled vegetables. The herbalist looked to be in her sixties, with white hair and soft, weather-worn skin—but she moved like someone not a day over thirty. She wasn’t Ylva’s aunt—she actually wasn’t anyone’s aunt, and as far as Ylva knew, she didn’t have any family in the village—but everyone called her ‘Auntie’ just the same.

“Ylva, my little sprig!” she called out. “Happy Yuletide.”

“Happy Yuletide.”

“Looking for anything particular today?” Auntie Helda’s eyes twinkled knowingly.

Ylva stopped by often for contraceptive teas whenever one of her partners failed to manage his timing. Auntie Helda had never judged her—by the contrary, the older woman seemed to approve.

But Ylva’s cautions had been successful this time. Wryly, she wondered which was worse—the cramps that the tea caused or this visceral frustration. It was almost enough to tempt her to let Petrie finish next time.

“Just a moment of peace and quiet today,” Ylva admitted.

Auntie Helda winked. “Understood. But before I leave you be… take this.”

She tied a cotton cord around Ylva’s neck, and at the base hung a sprig of dried rosemary.

“What’s it for?” Ylva asked.

“Protection,” Auntie Helda said. “And mostly it just smells good.”

Ylva smiled. She’d always appreciated how down-to-earth Auntie Helda was. “Any specific reason I need extra protection?”

“Perhaps,” Auntie Helda said. “It might just be the little insanities of an old woman, but… my bones are creaking like they used to in the old days.”

“During the convergence?”

Auntie Helda nodded. “The veil between worlds was much thinner, then. Sometimes, the heavens align just right… and Yuletide has always been when the veil was the thinnest.”

“So you think spirits might come through the veil? What kind?”

“Well, when I was a little girl, it was not men in masks that we ran from during the Krampus parade.”

“There’s a real Krampus?” Ylva breathed. She’d thought it was just another fairy tale to get children to behave.

Auntie Helda nodded. “I saw him, once. Dreadful, beautiful creature. But I wasn’t quite naughty enough for him to drag me away…” She sounded almost disappointed. “Now you, on the other hand…” Auntie Helda winked. “You might need to watch out.”

Ylva grinned. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

Ylva rolled around a ball of wool for the fat calico cat until she knew it was late enough that she’d be getting a lecture. She ruffled the cat’s fur one last time, then trudged home.

As cold as her hands were when she reached her home, she knew as she pushed the door open that it would bring her no relief.

“Tsk, Ylva!” barked her mother, who stirred a cast-iron pot of soup in the fire. She was plump and strong, her curly black hair going grey early—something she never missed an opportunity to blame it on Ylva.

“You’re late and tracking mud in,” her mother snapped.

“Sorry Mama,” Ylva murmured insincerely as she back-tracked and wriggled out of her boots.

Her hand was mere inches from the knob of the door to her room when her mother said, “Ylva, I need to talk to you.”

Ylva sighed, tromped back to the living room and plopped down in front of the fire. If she was going to be lectured, she may as well be comfortable.

“Priest Jorin told me he caught you engaged in certain activities with one of the candle lighters… again.”

“So?”

“It’s like you’re trying to get caught!”

She was, actually. She thought it was funny how mad it made Priest Jorin.

“So you’re fine with it as long as I don’t get caught?”

Ylva’s mother sputtered. “That’s not what I’m saying. Ylva, I’m worried for you.”

“You’re always worried for me. If this is about no husband wanting me—that’s fine. I don’t want one.”

“Ylva, it’s not just about you. It’s about starting your own household, not being a burden on this one!”

That one stung. Ylva looked away and forced her shoulders to shrug.

“Tch. Ungrateful child.” Ylva’s mother whipped the spoon through the stew.

“So if that’s everything…” Ylva stood, stepping towards her room.

“Peel the potatoes. And do it right this time.”

Ylva’s mother was unrelenting in her demands through dinner, when she ranted to Ylva’s father about their daughter’s latest deviances.

Ylva’s father murmured an obligatory “Listen to your mother,” but his mind was clearly still in the wood shop, dreaming up new joineries or something.

Ylva thought his work was interesting, but she resented that he seemed to care more about it than her. Her own mind wandered back to the snowdrift behind the meat shop. She shifted restlessly under the table, her cunt still wet and aching from her earlier denial.

Finally, her parents climbed the ladder to their loft, and she was allowed to go to bed. She opened the door to the closet that she’d taken over as her room, only barely large enough for the cot. It was the only door in the little house, other than the entrance.

She flopped down and pulled the door closed behind her. It wasn’t much. But it put a sheet of wood between her and her parents, and that was all she needed to plunge her hand into her cunt.

The denial always made the relief that much sweeter, but Ylva was not usually one for delayed gratification. The Petrie in her imagination could last as long as she needed, and Ylva bit her pillow to stay quiet as the release rolled through her. It took the edge off, but a restless horniness still bubbled under her skin.

When Ylva finally drifted off to sleep, she dreamed of endlessly running, the shadow of a birch branch always close behind her.

Continued in Part II

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Christmas Dinner (Part IV)

Continued from Part III

The guests thus attended to, Elden turned his attention to Rosie, who was once again quivering eagerly.

“Now, what to do with these leftovers…” he said.

Rosies eyes fluttered, her legs straining against her bonds, wanting desperately to press together or somehow resolve the cold emptiness between them.

“Now remind me, how long does this concoction take to dissipate if you don’t cum it out?”

Rosie whimpered.

Elden grinned. “Days, isn’t it?”

Rosie shuddered, then reluctantly nodded.

Instead of giving her an answer, Elden brushed his finger through the air and the serving platter spun slowly on his magic.

“You do look quite pretty like this,” Elden said. “All bound and glazed.”

A golden tendril of magic trailed up Rosie’s cheeks, inspiring a shiver and a burst of hope in her heart.

“As much fun as it would be to keep you like this for days,” Elden said, “I do have need of you tomorrow.”

Rosie nodded solemnly, lest her enthusiasm earn her further denial.

“Good. You won’t make any such mistakes tomorrow, will you?”

Rosie emphatically shook her head.

“That’s a good girl. If you did, I’d have to punish you like this again. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Rosie’s cheeks flushed red, her legs quivered, then she nodded. Then paused, shook her head. Then nodded.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Elden crooned. “Did you lose track of which way I asked the question?”

Rosie nodded.

“With your brain so muddled, you really will be useless tomorrow. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Rosie shook her head, trying but failing to keep her breathing from quickening, her breasts from heaving.

Elden went and stood by her head, and Rosie turned her eyes up at him. 

He said, “All this attention tonight was really quite the tease, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. 

“You poor thing,” he crooned. “None of them know just how hard you can cum.”

Before Rosie could nod again, a tendril of golden magic traced up from her knee to her hip, and Rosie’s head tipped back against the table.

“Especially with all that magick in your veins. And so, so warmed up…”

More golden tendrils appeared, curling around each of Rosie’s breasts, trailing towards her mouth and her cunt.

She trembled and moaned, no longer able to hold back her pleas.

Elden smiled and the ring gag vanished from Rosie’s mouth. Her eyes widened. “Please, please I need it, I need to cum so bad, please, I-I’ll be so good, I promise, please I need it, please…”

Hot, red, ancient magic flared in Elden’s eyes and a golden tendril surged down Rosie’s throat, muffling her words again. Fiery magic that threatened to melt Elden’s icy calm tingled down his spine, and he took a deep breath and extinguished the flare. He needed to be careful with this one. One more word from her, and she might have unleashed what he had spent centuries carefully containing. Not that it was a bad containing. Perhaps channeled was a better word—guided and shaped how he willed, in the ways that brought him pleasure.

Just as he shaped his magic into the golden tendrils that thickened and probed, filling her throat and her cunt and her ass, squeezing her waist and her breasts, pinching hard at her nipples.

For as much as these guests and her begging had reminded him of when he was king, the cheerful red baubles in the evergreens, which Rosie had so carefully arranged, reminded him that he liked this life far better.

His magics wrung climax after climax out of the little elf who was by far the cleverest apprentice he’d ever had. As Elden pulled her through another climax, he resolved to do a better job of assuring her that he’d not be firing her for something so silly as mixing up bottles.

Perhaps it was that she was a young fae, and so overly afraid of mischief. The Convention was to blame for that, and Elden was happy to pay more than a few fines in order to teach Rosie what fae life really was. She was well on her way. In fact—

Elden was disturbed from his musings by a buzzing tension and the strong smell of juniper and jasmine. Had he not been distracted, he would have already felt the air shifting and pulsing with the will, I want… I want…

All fae magic started with the will, and Rosie’s was unwinding into the room around her. 

The hair on the back of Elden’s neck stood on-end like a concerned cat’s as his golden tendrils sniffed out the silky green ones forming in the air.

And then in the span of a moment in-between moments, Rosie was standing—no, floating—in front of him, a dress of silky emerald magic swirling around her, her eyes gleaming green like sunlight through leaves, looking like a queen of old.

Her voice whispered from the air all around them as her hand gently landed on the back of his neck. “I want you to feel good too…”

Elden swallowed. It was unwise to try and quell spontaneous outbursts of fae magic like this, and yet, between teacher and apprentice it was wise to maintain a certain amount of professionalism…

An emerald tendril brushed against the front of Elden’s ruby velvet trousers and he shuddered.

Rosie grinned, showing her own pointed canines. “‘Professionalism’? Come now, didn’t you say this is our culture?”

Elden forced a wry grin. “How long have you been reading my thoughts?”

“Since I decided I want you…”

Moments shifted, and then Rosie was standing in front of him, cheek against his stomach, hand against his growing bulge.

“…to feel good too.”

“You naughty little thing,” Elden gasped.

Rosie grinned. “I am, aren’t I? I messed up the potions… and now I’m being unprofessional…”Rosie’s fingers curled into the ruby velvet, and then it was gone, her own magic having pulled it away.

Elden stood, suddenly exposed, unsure of what to do, until her hot mouth folded around his length. Arousal quivered through him, rediscovering sensations. How long had it been? Decades? He had kept everything and everyone at arms’ length, and now here he was, cock-deep in his apprentice.

And it felt amazing. But he was supposed to be the one in charge, supposed to be the one taking care of…

“Shhhhh,” whispered the air around him as Rosie pushed him onto the plush chair she’d conjured behind him.

“Y-you won’t get me quite that easily,” Elden said, mustering his will and magic to stir his golden tendrils again. If he could exhaust Rosie first, he could get through this with some amount of dignity intact.

Elden’s genius plan had the effect of inspiring Rosie to moan around his cock, which put his willpower on much slipperier ground. Here she was, enhanced by a fae stamina potion, and here he was, some decades since his last proper indulgence. To say that his heat was rising quickly was a understatement. She bobbed down his length, tongue swirling and pressing, moans buzzing under his tip.

“R-Rosie… if you don’t stop that, I’m going to… I’m going to…”

He tried to think of some suitable punishment, but all he could think was I’m going to cum.

He was on the brink and Rosie knew it.

“How do you feel?” her voice asked from the air.

Her tongue swirled under his tip. He was dripping, but he could hardly afford to encourage her. And he was far from lucid enough to lie.

She pulled him slowly down her throat, lips pressing tight around him, and he couldn’t keep the moan from escaping. She brought him right to the edge again, then paused.

“I said, how do you feel?”

Dread mixed with hot arousal in Elden’s core as he realized that she was going to make him say it. She would keep him here, right on the brink, until he pushed her away or he said it. And the former was not an option, not with the way his whole body throbbed under her touch.

“It feels good,” he breathed.

“What’s that?”

“It feels so fucking good.”

And then she unleashed herself upon him and his arousal flared. “Rosie… Rosie!” Elden’s hips bucked as he hissed and plummeted over the edge.

Every candle flared, the logs in the fireplace cracked into sparks, and motes of light appeared around them. Outside the house, snow shuddered off tree limbs and the ice skating pont cracked from the center. Rosie drank deep and delighted, her lips around his base and their magic entwining.

Elden’s magic in Rosie thickened and swelled, pushing her into one last gushing climax.

As Elden’s breath finally slowed, Rosie tucked her cheek against his thigh. The dining room was dim, all the candles burned to their bases and the fire now only embers. The air now smelled of soot, juniper, and sex.

Despite Rosie’s best efforts, sleep soon overtook her slight form.

Elden’s magic swept her clean, but he lifted her into the plush bed she’d conjured and tucked her in with his own hands, then turned his attention to the guests and the fluid-drenched wreckage of a dining room.

Elden chuckled wryly to himself. “Just like the yultides of yore, if I do say so myself…”

Then he took a deep breath and undammed a stream of ancient magic. In a swirl of snowflakes and golden warmth, each guest was cleaned, their hair resettled, their clothes redressed, until they were just as they had been when they arrived. Coils of magic then spirited them away, each to their homes, dropping on their doorsteps at just the moment nobody was quite paying attention.

Each would remember a carriage ride home and report to their loved ones that they were quite sleepy, but would be happy to recount the experience the next day.

After a long, peaceful sleep, they would awaken to report an absolutely delightful dinner. Exactly what had made it so delightful, they couldn’t quite say… except that it was definitely the little bird, which despite its small size had been so very delicious that they couldn’t help but go back for thirds, fourths, or more.

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Cutie Cumpire Measures Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So we are,” Nora said with a grin.

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

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

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

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

Jasper’s cheeks heated. “Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nora giggled. “Isn’t it supposed to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Nora commanded.

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

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

Jasper spurted pre-cum again.

“Stop,” Nora ordered.

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” she hissed. “Cum for me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Part 6: Denoument, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 52: Science

The room looked somewhere between a dungeon and a laboratory, and that was exactly the point. All the walls were stone. One wall was lined with iron hoops set into the rocks and a variety of frames and bars and clips and harnesses meant for bondage. The other was lined with shelves of beakers and cauldrons, jars of reagents, a workbench and a small stove.

It was more of a toy set than an actual laboratory, Linza realized as she inventoried what was available. But that was all well and good—she didn’t plan to do much actual alchemy that day.

Tanyth took the lead on getting Grun set up, fitting the half-orc in a harness and then buckling leather cuffs to his wrists and ankles. There were eight ropes clipped to iron hoops, four on either side of the wall, and each leading back to a pulley and a locking mechanism.

Tanyth loosened four of the ropes, two on each side, and clipped them to Grun’s wrists and ankles, letting him get a feel for it.

Linza helped to tighten the ropes according to Tanyth’s instructions. The ropes passed through several pulleys, meaning that she’d have a significant amount of leverage, even over someone as strong as Grun. But to start, they left a good bit of slack in the ropes. 

Grun could still stand comfortably, but he wouldn’t be able to cross his arms across his body. And, most importantly, he wouldn’t be able to touch his shaft, which was already half-erect and throbbing.

Tanyth stepped back and nodded, admiring their handiwork.

Both they and Linza were wearing lab coats of bleached cotton to complete the look.

“Thank you very much, my lovely assistant,” Linza said to Tanyth. “This is quite the specimen.” Linza stepped up and ran her fingertips from Grun’s cheek, down over his chest, to just above his shaft. He shivered. “He shall do quite nicely. However did you find him?”

Tanyth giggled. “I made lewd noises, and he came running. He’s very sexually motivated.”

Grun huffed and pouted. “Hey, just because it’s true...”

“Do you have the list?” Linza asked Tanyth.

Tanyth bounded over to the workbench and returned with a piece of parchment clipped at two corners to a wooden board. “I do!”

“What’s first?”

“Initial preparations. Non-genital stimulation.”

“Ah, yes, thank you.” Linza stepped up to Grun, keeping her air of disinterested scientist but loving the wary look on his face.

“W-what do you want from me?” Grun asked, though he already knew.

“Just some samples.” She brought her fingertips to his chest and swirled them there. She lingered on his nipples, running circles and making him gasp, and then swept her hands down over his hips.

His erection bobbed to full hardness.

Tanyth joined in and together the two of them touched every inch of Grun’s body that wasn’t his actual cock, balls, or rim. Linza trailed kisses up his arms. Tanyth ran their tongue around the edges of his hips, over the shallows of his pelvis.

Grun was shaking and gasping in no time, and they continued for several minutes.

Tanyth checked the clock and withdrew, going to pick up their list again. “Alright, it’s time to begin. Experiment number one: tip stimulation only.”

“T-that wasn’t the beginning yet?” Grun moaned. 

Linza gently took the tip of his shaft in her fingers and circled her thumb right under his head.

Grun managed a brief attempt at composure before he moaned and gave in, his shaft throbbing under her fingertips.

“Note the time and bring the sample tube, please.”

Tanyth jotted down the time on the first entry on the paper and fetched one of the sample tubes. They were finger-length and clear glass, open at the top and closed at the bottom, arranged in a rack. Linza had already labeled them with numbers, and Tanyth fetched the first one.

Grun quivered at the teasing sensation, but so far, he behaved. Linza was curious to see how long he lasted. It clearly felt good, but it would leave him begging for more.

After about five minutes of tip-only stimulation, he shuddered against the ropes and rewarded Linza with a bead of pre-cum at his tip. She gently took it with the edge of the sample tube and he shivered at the cold touch.

“Excellent,” she said. “How are we on time?”

“It’s time to proceed to the next one.”

“Which is?”

“Half shaft stimulation.”

“Excellent.”

Tanyth jotted down the time again and traded Linza for a fresh sample tube.

This time, she wrapped her fingers around him and stroked the fore half of his shaft, his foreskin sliding easily under her touch and providing significantly more sensation.

Grun shuddered against the ropes again, leaning forward and trying to bring his bound hands towards his cock.

Linza kept the sample tube to his tip and milked out several more drops before Tanyth called out that it was time for the next phase.

“Testicles only!” Tanyth cheerily called.

“You’ll hold the sample tube for this one?”

“Yes, of course.”

Linza pulled up a stool and sat before Grun. He was tall enough that she didn’t really have to kneel. 

Tanyth readied themselves at his tip, careful to not provide any stimulation there.

Linza looked up at Grun and licked her lips.

He twitched in anticipation.

Then she cupped his balls in her hands and licked them, covering as much of him with each stroke of her tongue as she could.

Both male and female anatomy developed analogously, female being the ‘default’ and male genitalia developing in response to testosterone during fetal development. The head of the penis was analogous to the clitoris, though the clitoris had even more nerves than the head and shaft of a penis combined. Most interesting to this current activity was that the scrotum, which housed the testicles, was analogous to the outer labia.

So Linza understood, with deep empathy, how just this sensation could send Grun moaning and gasping even more than teasing his tip and shaft. When Linza was receiving oral sex, that’s how she liked it to start. First, with the labia and then proceeding to include the clitoris, but never neglecting the labia.

And she enjoyed the paradox of their scientific demeanor and how she was now practically worshipping his balls, licking and sucking and moaning.

Grun again attempted to reach for his neglected shaft, straining against the ropes that held his arms apart. To no avail. He might have tried to twist more, but then Linza would have simply stopped touching him at all.

Tanyth called time, and Linza reluctantly withdrew.

She checked the sample tube as Tanyth held it to her, and she was excited to see that there was nearly a milliliter of clear fluid. “My, what an excellent sample!”

Grun groaned. “I-if you want my cum, I can cum…”

“Oh, no, of course not! That won’t be necessary. It is actually the pre-cum that is of greatest interest to us today. Exotic pre is in quite the high demand, don’t you know. We’re looking for the most efficient harvest methods.”

He grumbled, “If you want pre you should play with my ass…”

“Ass play starts with item ten,” Linza sunnily reported.

“Ten?!” Grun suddenly looked truly desperate.

“I believe we were just about to start number four. Our specimen is getting unruly though. I think we’d better tighten the restraints. For scientific integrity.”

Tanyth nodded. “For scientific integrity. Fifteen rotations should be about right.”

Linza and Tanyth went to each side of the wall.

“T-that won’t be necessary, I can be ruly,” Grun said.

Linza and Tanyth paid him no mind, and each spun their crank fifteen times, which pulled about six inches of slack out of each of the ropes at Grun’s arms. He could still move his arms, but they could no longer rest by his side.

Tanyth checked the list. “Four is half shaft stimulation, base half.”

That one really got Grun wriggling, and Linza was glad they’d tightened the ropes. Mostly, he couldn’t help but thrust into her hand, primal instincts activated by the pressure at his base.

“Greedy, aren’t we?” Linza teased.

“F-fuck, I really can’t help it when—”

She squeezed his base, and his hips bucked again.

“—when you do that…”

“This might interrupt collection. Assistant, could you please help me limit our specimen’s pelvic motion?”

“Certainly.”

“W-wait, what?”

Tanyth went around behind Grun. He was wearing a harness across his chest that had loops at his upper arms and upper thighs also, and a belt-like band around his waist. Tanyth clipped a ring at the back of the harness to an appropriately placed iron ring in the wall.

Grun pulled against it. The harness dug into his skin, but the iron didn’t budge, and he could no longer thrust his hips forward.

Even though Linza knew exactly what was next, she said, “Alright, assistant. Five, please?”

“Five is the application of a cock ring, and then we repeat one through four with the cock ring on as six through nine.” Tanyth fetched a strip of kid leather and handed it to Linza.

She nodded and returned to Grun.

“I-I don’t know if I can take much more of this,” Grun said.

“Well, we’ll find out, won’t we?” Linza grinned. “That’s science!”

Grun gulped. “Yay… science…”

Any further protests evaporated when she swept the strip of leather behind his balls and around his base. The leather towards his skin was soft, but there was a firmer strip of leather on the outside with a small buckle. She situated the leather and then gently tightened it until she could no longer slip a finger behind it.

This presented his balls forward, and his cock throbbed even harder.

“F-fuck that’s tight…”

Linza put her hand on Grun’s thighs and found his eyes. “Is it alright?”

He nodded. “I l-like it tight.”

Linza grinned. “You certainly do when I ride you.”

Grun’s hips bucked, but the clip held him in place.

Linza grinned and turned to Tanyth. “Note a slight modification for item five — instead of just letting him sit there with this on, I’m going to say lewd things.”

Tanyth nodded dutifully as Linza picked up the corresponding sample tube.

“C-c’mon,” Grun said, “You can’t do this to me…”

“I can do whatever I want to you.”

He twitched again, his eyes softening.

“Just imagine how much pre you’ll drip if I keep you like this for hours.”

He bucked against the harness, releasing a drip that Linza collected with the cold, smooth edge of the sample tube.

“If I just never let you come… why, I expect you’d practically become a faucet!”

“We’d be rich!” Tanyth chimed in.

“N-no please, can’t you use my cum too? I’ll still have plenty of pre after…”

“Hm, assistant, I think the specimen may be trying to compromise our scientific integrity.”

Tanyth nodded, their blue ponytail bouncing. “I quite agree. I think I know of a way to remedy this situation.”

They returned with a ball gag. Linza had to help steady them as they stood on a stool to buckle it around the back of Grun’s head. The gag showed off his pointed canines, and Linza thought the effect was quite cute. Especially when he immediately started drooling.

“That’s much better,” she said. 

Grun grumbled under the gag.

“Alright,” Tanyth said, checking the list. “Back to head stimulation only!”

Between the heightened sensation from the cock ring and the fact that they’d been at this for almost a half an hour, Grun was a trembling, moaning mess. He whimpered as she stroked his tip, then groaned with relief as she stroked the fore half of his shaft. Those yielded half a milliliter and a full milliliter of sample, respectively. 

When Linza descended upon his balls, so tautly presented for her oral pleasure, she thought he might actually pull his way out of the cuffs. He moaned and drooled and shook. So desperate.

And yet, Linza and Tanyth carried on diligently collecting their samples, grinning to each other.

Her hand at Grun’s base had him bucking uncontrollably. Only through Tanyth’s deft maneuvering of the sample tube did they manage to collect everything.

“And now we’re to ten!” Tanyth said.

Linza grinned up at Grun, whose eyes were glassy. “Do you remember what ten is?”

He blinked at her.

“Ten is when we start ass play.”

His hips bucked, and he shook against the ropes.

Tanyth went to the other side of the room and wheeled over an armature, similar to the one that had propped Linza up for spit roasting, but much larger. Tanyth expertly manipulated it into the shape that they would need for their next set of experiments.

Linza had asked Grun ahead of time whether he preferred the carrot or the rod, and he significantly preferred the carrot.

So, she came up to him and started stroking his full shaft as Tanyth unclipped his wrists and ankles. Grun’s arms fell limply at his sides.

Now that she had his pleasure in her hands, she controlled all his attentions. “Come this way. You wouldn’t want this to stop, would you?”

He shook his head, and she led him over to the armature and guided him to kneel against it. The end result was as if he’d leaned himself over a table. His ass was up in the air, his legs parted, and the armature gave him a place to rest his knees so he wouldn’t have to hold up his weight.

Tanyth clipped Grun’s wrists and ankles, and harness into place on iron hoops set into the armature. Grun’s cock hung down into the open part of the armature, easily accessible.

Grun had hardly noticed. His drool ran onto the floor now, and his face was soft with bliss as Linza stroked him. 

Then she stopped. His eyes flickered open, and he seemed to realize where he was. He pulled against his bindings, but the armature remained solid.

Linza fetched a stoppered vial and opened it, pouring half of the contents out over Grun’s raised ass. He shivered at the cold and moaned with anticipation.

Tanyth fetched a sample tube and positioned it under Grun’s twitching cock. “Number ten! Manual stimulation of the anus.”

Linza placed her fingertips thusly, and Grun dissolved under her touch. He moaned and shook. Tanyth nodded eagerly up at Linza, indicating that the sample was coming along nicely. Linza had previously noticed that Grun became a veritable dispenser of pre-cum when his ass came into play, and her scientific excitement wasn’t all for show. It really was fun to see just what pushed his buttons, so to speak. Of course, amount of pre-cum wasn’t really a direct correlate to amount of pleasure—an electric shock to the appropriate gland would be an unpleasant but effective way to trigger its release—but Grun gave plenty of indications of his happiness.

Had they not been timing the ‘steps’ of the ‘experiment’, Linza would have quickly proceeded past this stage, eager to get Grun really going. But, the precise timing was part of the fun. Stretching out each stage. The pleasurable dread of knowing that any ‘end’ was quite far away.

Tanyth called the time, and Linza withdrew.

Though, Tanyth hesitated from their place at Grun’s shaft. “What… should I do if he hasn’t stopped dripping?”

Linza crouched down to watch. There were already two milliliters in the tube and, sure enough, another droplet formed at his tip. She grinned. “I’ll help you swap it out as we go to the next one. You stay here for a sec.”

She came around to Grun’s face, unbuckled the gag, and set it aside. She rubbed his cheeks with her fingertips as his head lolled against one of the padded panels of the armature. 

He wouldn’t be protesting any more, and it was important that he could tell them if anything was uncomfortable. Especially because the next thing she fetched from her bag was a glass dildo. She coated this also with lube. Then she swapped tubes with Tanyth, set the used one back in the rack, and stepped around to Grun’s ass again.

Linza winked at Tanyth and so they didn’t call this next one out. Grun hadn’t seen her latest preparations—he was too hazy.

So when the cool glass touched his rim, he gasped.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck yes, yes please…”

Linza pressed the tip gently inside.

Grun arched his back towards her, groaning and grasping at the padding under his fingers.

Linza pressed in a little more. And then a little more. And then much to his chagrin and her satisfaction, she held it there as he shook and whined and quivered for the remaining minutes of that experiment phase.

Tanyth quickly swapped sample tubes again, and Linza saw as they swept past that this tube was the fullest yet.

Experiment twelve was slow, deliberate thrusts centered on his prostate. Thirteen combined those thrusts with Tanyth stroking the tip of Grun’s shaft. Both produced ample samples.

“Aren’t you a pretty little milk maid?” Linza said, leaning down towards Tanyth.

Tanyth beamed.

Grun moaned and panted.

“Oh, do you like that?” Linza teased. “Us milking you?”

Grun shuddered.

Tanyth nodded. “Well, it’s working quite nicely.”

By the time experiment thirteen was done, Grun sounded like he was already edging.

The pause between would be torture, and Linza took her time fetching a new tube for Tanyth.

Experiment fourteen was harder thrusting, a proper fucking, but without shaft stimulation. That offered the most pre of all, nearly five milliliters. Tanyth reported that it was no longer dripping, but coming in spurts.

Linza insisted that more data was required, and she traded with Tanyth so that she could see for herself. Grun was dripping constantly. Every few strokes, he would groan and quiver and clench around the dildo, and a spurt of pre splash into the sample tube.

Linza’s scientific integrity was wavering. Fortunately, this was nearly the end of what she had planned. “Wow, you are really dripping.”

“Yes! I know… I can f-feel it… nnngh…” He moaned and spurted again. “…coming out…”

“These are even better results than we had hoped for,” Linza said, staying in character even as her own sex throbbed. “We may have found a winner, dear assistant. This far exceeds our theoretical predictions and has proven to be a very effective milking method.”

“N-no, please!” Grun whimpered. “I need to come… please… Fuck! nnngh…”

“I have studied your species and confirmed that this collection method is quite safe, even for long periods of time, so you need not worry,” Linza said.

“No… no it’s not, I…” He tried to pull against the restraints, but Tanyth was still fucking him with the dildo and Grun couldn’t manage more than a weak effort.

Making sure that Grun couldn’t see, Linza returned to the lab bench one more time and swapped out the sample tube for a wide-mouthed beaker.

She kneeled under Grun and held the beaker under his dripping cock. Tanyth fucked him vigorously.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Grun moaned. “That f-feels so fucking good…”

As Grun continued dripping, Linza ran her palm over his tip and caught the slick fluid on her hand, using it to lubricate his shaft. She could have gotten the actual lubricant, of course, but Grun was already producing plenty and she thought he’d like her doing it like this. She certainly liked it.

And he sounded like he was loving it. He gasped and panted as if already on the edge.

Every time he dripped his shaft became slicker, and the slicker it got the better it felt, and the better it felt the more he dripped.

“F-fuck that’s so good…” He gripped the padding under his fingers and arched his back, breath heaving. “I c-can’t… I need to… please… I’m so close… I’ve b-been so close…”

Linza glanced at the clock and grinned as she realized she and Tanyth had been teasing Grun for nearly an hour.

Linza propped the beaker into the armature in an appropriate spot and slicked her other palm on his pre, then brought one hand up to fondle his balls, which were still plumped forward by the cock ring.

“Oh! Oh fuck… fuck… oh gods if you do that I… that’s gonna make me… fuck, fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck, fuck me, fuck me!”

Tanyth seemed just as affected by Grun’s display as Linza was, and their cheeks and ears were rosy with arousal as they fucked Grun as hard as they could.

Grun’s breathing quickened. “Oh gods I can feel it, I’m so close, I… Fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuck!”

Grun’s balls tightened under Linza’s hand, and she quickly reached for the beaker as she continued stroking him with the other hand.

The first spurt was so powerful, it nearly splashed out of the beaker. For science, as well as her own edification, Linza counted. Ten more waves, his shaft pulsing under her fingers with each, each as thick as the last, until he finally slowed to a drip.

It was at least twenty milliliters.

Linza felt like a pretty little milk maid indeed.

Tanyth gently withdrew the dildo, and Grun moaned and shivered. Linza handed the beaker to Tanyth, and they admired the volume as she unbuckled the cuffs from Grun’s ankles and wrists.

Grun moaned lowly and seemed disinclined to move.

Tanyth sidled over to Linza. “Something has just occurred to me, great alchemist.”

“Oh yes, lovely assistant?”

“We need exotic cum, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“I can’t believe I neglected to mention this earlier, but I have exotic cum, you see.” Tanyth batted their eyelashes at her as their erection tented the front of their lab coat.

Linza chuckled. “Oh, well then I’d better collect a sample, hm? Comparative analysis is important.”

Tanyth nodded enthusiastically and unbuttoned their lab coat. 

Linza reached back and grabbed one of the unused sample tubes. She started with her mouth, running her tongue under their tip, then stroking with her free hand. 

Tanyth gasped, sighing with relief.

As with Grun, their relief soon turned to urgency.

She kept at them with her mouth until they whimpered, and then she dropped her attentions to their balls.

They stroked themselves, still slick with her saliva.

She pressed her tongue at the base of their balls, just at the edge of their perineum.

“Fuck! Linza, Linza—”

Linza leaned back and aligned the tube, and Tanyth did their best to stay still, stroking gently as they supplied their sample. 

As Tanyth heaved a sigh of relief, Linza leaned in and licked their tip, causing them to yelp.

Linza chuckled and withdrew, placing the tube on the rack next to the others. She was amused to see that, just like she had suspected, some of Grun’s tubes of pre-cum had more volume than Tanyth’s whole ejaculate.

Grun had stirred during her time with Tanyth and now unbuckled the harness as he regarded the rack of test tubes. “Wow, is that… really all from me?”

She picked up the beaker and swirled it. “Sure is.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I always appreciated how much you manage to swallow but… now I really appreciate it.”

“Knowledge is power,” she said as she jotted down the exact volumes from each of the labeled tubes onto the sheet where Tanyth had been noting the times.

“Wait, you’re actually writing it down?” Grun said.

“Of course I am. I’ll need something to compare back to, next time.”

“Ne… next time?”

“Only if you want to, of course.”

Grun chuckled. “Ask me tomorrow and you’ll get a resounding ‘yes’. For the moment, I think I can actually say… I don’t feel remotely interested in anything sexual. And that is a miracle.”

Linza grinned, thoroughly pleased with herself. “A miracle of science.”

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Part 4: The Interloper, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 31: Pretty Little Thing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in!” Linza called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“H-how does this work?” he asked.

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

He nodded and ran his fingers through his beard.

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

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

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

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

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

He looked up at her, enraptured.

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

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

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

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

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

He shivered and gasped.

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

He moaned.

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

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

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

“I am not, I—”

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

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

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

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

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

He gasped and moaned at the relief.

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

He whimpered with ecstasy.

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

“Y-yes!” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was even more intoxicating than the arousal.

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

He nodded.

“Say it.” She teased his rim harder.

He gasped and whimpered.

“Use your words.”

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

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

Gods, how she loved to see him squirm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He moaned from his very core.

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

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

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

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

He groaned. “Gonna make me cum…”

“Do you want to cum?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum for me,” she purred.

His eyes rolled back and his whole body tensed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grun sighed, eyes closed and expression serene.

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

But why did it have to be with him?

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he said.

Linza didn’t reply.

He left.

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

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

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

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Part 4: The Interloper, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 25: Come for Lunch

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

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

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

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

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

The madame nodded. “Yes.”

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

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

Linza swallowed and nodded. 

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

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

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

“Of course.” The madame grinned. 

Linza nodded. “I look forward to it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright.”

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

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

So Linza nodded. “I’ll stay.”

The madame turned back to the interloper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, stop,” said the madame. 

“What?” the interloper said.

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

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

The interloper stopped stroking. 

“Put your hand down,” the madame said.

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

“You may start again,” the madame said.

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

“Stop,” the madame said.

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

“You may resume,” the madame said.

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

“Stop,” the madame said.

He obeyed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The madame regarded him, arms still folded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The madame returned to her seat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 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.

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

Chapter 17: Command

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a moment, Primmen nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tanyth sighed happily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop.” Another invocation of Command.

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

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

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

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

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

“O-okay, I’m close again, I—”

“Come.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.

“Yes!”

“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.

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