“Breakfast and some relaxation then?” she suggested to him, plaining staring at his hidden cock. Morgan noted her pupils weren’t perfectly round, but were slitted like a cat’s. Clearly this form had some strange bit of ancestry.
They went to the kitchen for breakfast, the cook having prepared a minor feast. Cookie said nothing about Cassandra’s lack of dress. She was used to this sort of thing. They had just started the morning’s repast when there came a pounding at the back door.
Morgan looked to Cookie. “Are you expecting a delivery?”
“No, sir,” the matronly woman said, shaking her head. “Nothing.”
He shrugged and inclined his head, indicating she should answer. Most communications took place through the formal entrance at the front of the tower, but routine deliveries came to the back door, which was Cookie’s preference since she couldn’t abide by children.
When Cookie opened the door, there stood a young man wearing the livery of the city’s ruling family. He held on a silver platter an envelope of rich vellum. Morgan’s heart sank. This could only be one thing and it wasn’t anything good.
The squire doffed his cap and bowed low to Cookie. “Letter for the Great Wizard Morgan, First Magical Defender of the City, Hero of the Order of—”
Morgan didn’t give the squire a chance to finish his long and boring introduction. “I’ll take that,” he said rudely, snatching the envelope from the silver platter while simultaneously pushing Cookie out of the way. She had been about to reach for the envelope, but Morgan prevented that; she wasn’t surprised by his actions because he was rude to everyone.
“Morgan!” Cassandra admonished him. “Manners!”
He glanced her way as he ripped open the envelope and nodded his head, but in no way apologized. “Do you know what this is?” he demanded of his small audience while waving the envelope’s contents about. The squire nodded yes while Cookie and Cassandra merely gave Morgan skeptical glares. They were too accustomed to his rudeness to city officials.
“No,” said Cassandra when the silence grew too long. “What is it?”
“It’s an invitation…to a party…at the palace,” he spat the words out like they were sour on his tongue.
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Cassandra. As the wife of the city’s wizard she was often shunned by the nobility and a nice party would be something to break up the routine of her life. She only hoped the day of the party she had a decent body to wear.
“Nothing! Everything! And worst of all: it’s tonight!”
Cassandra brightened at that idea while Cookie faded into the background. She knew when she wasn’t wanted. “Lovely,” cried Cassandra as she stood up from the breakfast table and gave the squire an eyeful of her voluptuous body. He gulped and turned bright red so that he matched his livery.
“I’m…I’m…I’m to await an answer,” he managed to stammer out.
“Tell them no!” Morgan said, throwing the invitation to the table and storming off.
“Tell the queen yes,” Cassandra contradicted him with a warm smile. She could see the squire’s eyes darting all over her body, and then when he realized she was watching him, his eyes went everywhere but his body. She briefly considered seducing him into her bed, but there was precious little time to prepare for the party as it was.
“I’ll bring her lady the message immediately,” the squire said, happy for an excuse to leave the tower’s back entrance.
Chapter Nineteen
Morgan pulled at the collar to his formal robes. He found the robes hot and uncomfortable in the best of circumstances, but here he was being forced to wear them at a royal dinner party. After surreptitiously glancing around the room and then making sure his wife wasn’t watching him, Morgan cast a minor charm that lowered the air temperature around him. If the others in the crowded room thought he was a demon incarnate bringing a freezing hell with him, so much the better.
The dinner had been acceptable. Cassandra had loved it and indicated so with words and glances sent his way across the table. She had managed to find a formal gown that plunged so low in front that is showed off both her temporary cleavage and navel in while it stopped in back just above the curve and crevice of her buttocks. How it stayed in place was magic indeed.
As the wife of a wizard she had a right to dress outré, but compared to other female in attendance, her gown was almost conservative. Morgan had gotten full views of many pierced and bejeweled nipples. The current fashion was apparently to wearing skin-tight fabrics that left nothing to the imagination when it came to body shape. Out in public these noble ladies would have been accused of being prostitutes, but here in the safety of the palace, they were just fashion forward.
The fashion extended to the men as well. Morgan had had his fill of seeing the outlines of too many cocks. Men, both old and young, were wearing breeches so tight when a beautiful creature walked by the erection sported by the viewer was almost an aggressive invitation for fornication.
Morgan remembered when the fashion was to wear codpieces that artificially inflated a man’s manhood. He missed those days because it was so obvious that most of the men’s codpieces were compensating for an actual lack of manhood or a metaphorical lack of it.
When the overly rich food had finally been consumed and they all had pushed back from the table, Morgan had hoped he could extend a formal thank you to the king and make a hasty retreat.
There was no such luck.
The king’s groom announced that the evening’s entertainment would take place in the ballroom. The party goers quickly made for the ballroom doors.
Morgan hated dancing. He couldn’t remember what Cassandra’s opinion on the activity was. He opted not to ask and simply allowed her to hook her arm with his and steered him into the ballroom.
“You’re the one who is supposed to lead, my love,” she told him.
“You prefer to be on top anyway,” he retorted grumpily.
Cassandra ignored him. She was looking forward to the entertainment.
In a corner sat a small group of musicians who were already playing their instruments, but the tune they were in the middle of wasn’t appropriate for dancing. The crowd stood around, confused as to what to do.
Morgan took a second look at the crowd. No, they weren’t confused. They were waiting for something. Was the king supposed to dance with the queen or was some other ritual waiting to be followed? He had never concerned himself with the niceties of noble behavior.
Without warning two sets of doors on opposite sides of the ballroom slammed open.
“What’s going on?” Morgan asked his wife.
She shook her head confused, and they both craned their heads to see what was happening as the crowed moved to get a better view of the entrainment.
The first thing Morgan saw was an elf being wheeled into the middle of the room She was pretty, but all female elves were pretty. Her hair was long and pale blonde. Her skin was flawless. Her cunt was a perfect shade of pink. Morgan could see that because the poor girl was pinned to the top of a rolling table while completely naked. Her wrists and ankles were held in place by a long pillory. Essentially she was forced into a doggy style position, her limbs on one end of the table and her head on the other, a golden chain was around her neck, keeping it and her upper chest against the tabletop.
Morgan had many problems with slavery in general and while it wasn’t legal in the city, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t practiced among the nobility. What could have happened to the elf where she was willing to do this for the amusement of the king and his court?
Before Morgan could ask any reasonable question, his eyes flitted to the other side of the ballroom. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, certainly a partner that would be fucking the bound elf, but he hadn’t expected what the attendants were wheeling in.
Ogres were fairly rare in this part of the Five Lands but not unknown. This one stood eight feet tall by Morgan’s estimate and was powerfully built, making the b
east twice the height and easily four times the elf’s weight. The ogre was naked and in an iron cage. His expression was sullen but not angry. Large pointed teeth projected from between his lips. A golden chain was also around his neck. The cock that dangled between his legs was easy the length and thickness of Morgan’s forearm…and it was flaccid.
This ogre had blue and black striped skin with white hair flowing down his back. A pair of twisted horns stuck up from the mane of wild hair. The white hair was no indicator of old age; this specimen was in the flower of his youth.
It didn’t take Morgan much brain power to put together what the evening’s planned entertainment was. The crowd tittered with anticipation of what was to come.
Morgan wasn’t against sexual displays, but this seemed a little beyond the pale or the darkness.
“How in the name of the Dead Gods will she survive this?” he asked of his wife.
Cassandra had a faint smile on her lips. “Elves are all about sex, my love,” she said softly. “I have no doubt that this is more show and play than it is dangerous.”
“He’ll split her in half,” Morgan grumbled.
“She’ll accommodate him,” Cassandra said confidently.
“For her sake, I hope you’re correct.”
The elf girl must have known what was to happen because the fear in her eyes was unmistakable.
The crowd jostled around, everyone looking for the best stop to observe the ogre fucking the elf. She could have called out for help or begged for the whole torture to stop. She did not.
Morgan wasn’t sure if he had admiration for her or wondered if she was under some magical compulsion that made her go through with it.
The ogre was released from his cage. He growled a few times at the audience, but Morgan felt no intimidation. It was all for show. The king wouldn’t invite the upper crust of the city to come to the palace to be murdered by an ogre. He snuffled a few times before approaching the elf. She whimpered audibly, having given herself over to her fate.
The ogre went down on his knees behind the elf, bringing his face even with her exposed nethers. Inhaling deeply so that his nostrils flared, he got her scent into his nose. From that alone Morgan was able to see the beast’s cock start to rise even as the ogre then buried his face between the elf’s legs and began licking audibly.
The elf’s keen of distress changed to one of pleasure; there were worse things in the world to endure. The more he ate her cunt the quicker his cock grew.
Morgan scoffed at the scene. “At least he knows what’s expected of him.”
Cassandra had a soft word for her husband. “She’s an elf. She’s a purely sexual creature. She’ll more than easily live through this.”
The rough cunnilingus abruptly ended. Morgan was happy to see that no blood covered the ogre’s lips or dripped from his sharp teeth. His cock was fully erect now. It hadn’t grown much in size, it only got hard and erect, which Morgan thought was lucky for the elf.
What happened next wasn’t unexpected but to actually see it was to experience a new level of reality.
The ogre got into position, his cock head at the entrance to the elf’s now swollen, nearly inflamed, cunt, bright red with anticipation.
“See?” Cassandra whispered in his ear. “She’ll be able to take it all. Look at how her cunt is ready now.”
Morgan said nothing and the crowd took in a collective gasp as the ogre pushed into the elf with his massive cock. She let out a strangled cry; Morgan couldn’t tell if it was a cry of pain or pleasure. He supposed it didn’t really matter.
The ogre only managed to get his member about a third of the way inside the tiny elf. He pulled back a bit and then pushed in again. This time it went almost all the way in. As the big beast pulled back a second time the look on the elf’s face was that of a being who was experiencing a religious epiphany; Morgan wasn’t sure if he was jealous or angry at the situation.
On the third attempt the ogre was successful in plunging his cock all the way into the tiny elf. She screamed out her distress—and her pleasure. Morgan was conflicted and confused.
The ogre waited a second, his heavy balls resting against the tiny elf’s bottom. He then rested his gnarled knuckles on the table, each massive fist on either side of the elf. Morgan found it interested that he didn’t grab her body, but he supposed that was because he would likely tear her apart in the process.
What followed was some of the most violent sex Morgan had ever witness. He was a wizard. He had seen the depths to which any sentient was willing to sink for sex. The elf cried out at every thrust, the big ogre’s cock was more of a weapon that a tool of pleasure. For his part the ogre was almost silent, but making the occasional huffing from exertion of sex. If nothing else it was a show that was undeniably erotic and one Morgan hoped he never had to witness again.
It didn’t last very long, but it was long enough. It ended almost abruptly. The ogre made a deep grunt and then pulled his cock out of the elf’s cunt. He was already cumming. The amount of thick semen he produced was frightening. The fact he didn’t have to self-pleasure said much about his desire to fuck the elf. Morgan lost count of the number of spurts the ogre shot out of his cock. It was more than enough to thoroughly coat the elf’s cunt, ass, and back.
All in all, it was a show that Morgan would likely never forget.
Spent, the ogre stumbled back into his cage; he silently and willingly allowed himself to be wheeled away to the applause of the audience. Upon refocusing his eyes on the elf, Morgan saw a strangely content look on her face. Her table was also wheeled away; she wasn’t released from her pillory. Which only made sense to Morgan.
Before anything else could happen, King Heivard IV stood up from the dais where he had been watching the ogre-elf sex show. “My friends, my countrymen, my loyal nobles,” he started, his hands raised and a smug smile on his face, “and my many, many lovers…” He paused long enough for the crowd to laugh appreciatively. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”
There were more than a few calls from the party goers that they had.
“Good, good. Please, take advantage of the moment. The guest rooms of this part of the palace is for you, my good friends, to take advantage of and use like…well, like an ogre taking advantage of an innocent elf girl.”
There was more laughter from the crowd. Morgan remained silent. He didn’t approve but it wasn’t his place to judge the king out loud.
“Doesn’t it seem odd to you,” he said to Cassandra as the crowd moved to some of the private rooms. Some of the hornier and younger attendees didn’t bother moving and simply stripped off their clothes where they stood, wasting no time at all to start copulating in a variety of combinations and positions.
“I thought it was sexy,” said Cassandra, her eyes sparkling. Morgan knew that look. It hadn’t changed in the many years she had been shifting bodies. She was horny.
“No, doesn’t it seem odd to you that the king suddenly invites us to this little sex show after being ignored by him for years?”
“Uh-huh,” Cassandra said, reaching for her husband. Her hand went between his legs where she found his rather disappointingly soft cock. “He wants something from you. But I want something from you too.” She kissed him and Morgan found it difficult to pull away from her.
“Not here,” he said, craning his neck to see where the king had gone. Already the middle-aged man had disappeared, either into the crowd or into a private room. Presumably, or hopefully, with his wife.
“Where then?” she breathed heavily into his ear.
“Follow me,” Morgan dragged his wife back the way they had come. In the corridor he found the large mirror they had passed. The mirror walking spell was easy to cast and just like that they were in their bedroom at the top of the tower.
“You don’t want to fuck in front of an audience?” she asked him as she quickly shed her revealing dress.
“I don’t want to give away any secrets,” he said with a smile, pulling her to
the bed. There were ethical problems with watching an ogre abuse an elf, but he was willing to set aside that quandary for the night to fuck his wife in her beautiful temporary form.
Chapter Twenty
Cassandra’s curse, like any magical curse, would allow the victim a moment’s respite only to make thing worse the next day. Yesterday Cassandra had worn the body of a beautiful woman with a hint of elf blood, today she woke up wearing the body of a middle-aged matron who had seen too many years, too much hard labor, and had too many children.
She felt it in her bones when she got out of bed and stumbled over to the mirror. With a sigh she announced to her husband, “Looks like today is the day where I have to use my makeup.”
“You don’t have to,” said Morgan. “Not for—”
“I do it for me,” she said quickly, cutting him off. “Eventually you’ll find a way to break this curse. But for now, I do it for me.”
On the days that she woke up less than pleased with her new body and face, they didn’t have sex, not that Morgan would have refused her, but she still remembered herself as the comely young maiden that had caught a wandering wizard’s eye.
Morgan had no obligations that morning he went to his laboratory to work. He was deep in his tomes, again looking for a new way to approach the problem of his wife’s shapeshifting, when he was interrupted just before the noon meal by a knock at the door.
“Come!” He was glad for a respite from the interminable research.
Cassandra came in wearing a plain dress and her green and gold necklace. She brought in with her a mismatched pair of visitors. Morgan hadn’t seen such a mismatched pair since the night before when he had witnessed an ogre fuck an elf.
The mismatched pair in his laboratory was similarly mismatched because they were the same pair. The ogre lumbered over the elf, twice her height and quadruple her weight. Morgan blinked twice at them but didn’t allow any surprise to show on his face.
The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6 Page 97
