Metal Mage 12

by Eric Vall

  “Deya, move,” she said in a low voice.

  Then the princess climbed over Aurora, took off her clothes, pulled Deya out of her spot, and undid my belt. I was so confused when she straddled me and propped her elbows against the table that I just stared at her porcelain ass cheeks for a second, but Cayla sent me a stern look over her shoulder.

  “Get hard for me,” she ordered. “I want you deep inside me while you do this.”

  Yeah, that worked in about two milliseconds.

  I jolted as the princess whipped my dick out for me, and while she slowly sank down so I was buried in her heated tunnel, the woman let out a moan that made me forget what I was doing altogether.

  All I could focus on was her porcelain hips rolling against me while she clutched the table’s edge, but it wasn’t long before Cayla grabbed my limp arm and forced it back to the paper.

  “Show me more,” the princess moaned.

  Shoshanne giggled beside me as I managed a harried nod, and I did my best to focus on my work despite the coma Cayla was steadily fucking me into.

  Now, I always enjoyed sketching out new guns for my women, but I’d never had to do it from behind one of them before, and this new approach made it almost impossible to focus on the finer details. It also made it twice as fun, though, and as I tried to keep my hand steady, I kind of wished my middle school teachers could see me now. Then I could prove once and for all that drawing guns instead of working on algebra could absolutely pay off in the long run.

  There were at least five times I forgot to draw altogether, though, as Cayla’s arousal heightened, and she was clutching the table and panting for more while she watched my progress on the AR-15.

  “Focus, Mason,” Aurora teased, and I let out a ragged breath as Cayla moaned in approval.

  Then the princess began panting “yes” over and over as I went back to expand on the details, and when I finally finished with the rear sight, Cayla’s pleasure erupted as her shriek rebounded around the car.

  The intensity of our shared climax made the pen tear straight through the paper and fly off the table, but I just grabbed a hold of Cayla’s hips instead while I pumped pint after pint of my cum deep into her shaking body.

  I barely registered my women’s whistles as I began to tremble from the heat of Cayla’s flesh around me, but when I came back around, the princess was limp against my chest as she clutched at her hair.

  “Gods, I love it,” Cayla moaned. “It’s perfect.”

  “Perfect,” I agreed as I trailed my hands along her slender thighs.

  “I want to help you build it,” the princess sighed.

  “Yeah,” I muttered blankly. “That’s … yeah. You could, uh … there’s assembly, and--”

  Cayla shook her head and looked over her shoulder. “Not like that. I want your cock in my mouth while you do it.”

  “Me, too!” Aurora announced.

  The four women began deliberating how they could coordinate my next build so they all got a turn, and I just sat there enjoying Cayla’s porcelain curves until she slowly climbed off my dripping wet cock.

  Then I got an unobstructed view of the sketch, and I couldn’t help laughing.

  It was obvious where I’d gotten overwhelmed because the pen ended up wandering all over the place, but aside from the giant gash across the handguard, I thought I did alright.

  Cayla clearly thought so as well.

  The princess lazily redressed herself while I watched, and she kept her icy blue eyes on me as she wriggled into her leather corset. Then she bent over the table, and while Aurora slowly cinched her ribbons tighter for her, I enjoyed the side view of her breasts gradually plumping until they were practically bursting from the leather.

  “That sounds fair,” Shoshanne decided, and I hadn’t heard a thing they’d said in the last several minutes. “Mason, what do you think?”

  “Sure,” I muttered. “Anything you want.”

  “Good,” Aurora said with a nod. “Now that that’s settled, I’m going to the dining car to scrounge up some food for us before we get to our first post. I’m starving.”

  “I’ll get it,” I offered. “It looks like you’ve still got about six bags to unpack, and I should check up on how everything’s going after the upgrade.”

  “Do you think the cooks on your train have griffin?” Deya asked. “Our baby loves when I eat griffin.”

  “Deya,” I sighed as I stood up and fixed my pants, “I don’t think anyone loves when you eat griffin except the dragons you embody when you do it.”

  “Mason,” Shoshanne warned, and I realized all of my women were frowning with disapproval.

  Deya’s cheeks were pink as she looked down, though, and when I saw her pat the tiny bump on her belly, I immediately pulled my head out of my ass.

  “I’ll see what they have,” I assured her, and the elf perked back up.

  “Thank you,” she purred. “I love you so much.”

  I grinned. “I love you, too.”

  Then I unlatched the locked door leading to the other cars, and I stepped over the divide with the ground racing beneath my boots. The second I entered the dining car next door, I was immersed in lively chatter and the smell of delicious cooking, and the Defenders at the nearest tables raised their mugs as they welcomed me.

  Every booth was filled with my troops while the tables were cluttered with mugs and plates, and I chuckled as I waded through the packed car. Many of the Defenders hunched over open books or practiced influencing their elements within the confines of their plates, but others were playing card and dice games between their cutlery. Their laughter and the rattling of dishware filled my ears as the train rocked beneath me, and as I slowly made my way to the kitchen, I found brimming mugs of ale being passed my way along with a few knocks to my shoulders.

  I had a mug in each hand by the time I made it to the cooking area, and I drained one before I ducked my head around the doorframe. Two squat women with bandanas tied over their hair were waddling back and forth as they prepared dishes, and the one closest to me grabbed my empty mug without having to look over at all.

  “Hi,” I said once I realized they weren’t stopping for anything. “I’m Mason Flynt, and I was wondering--”

  “Defender Flynt,” the women immediately barked, and they dropped their work to salute me.

  “At ease,” I chuckled. “You don’t have to salute.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of them replied, and she brushed a mousy brown tendril off her forehead. “What can we do for you, sir?”

  “I was just coming to grab a bite to eat for me and my women,” I explained, “but I was wondering--”

  The woman with the mousey brown hair handed over a menu, and I grinned as I flipped through the four pages. I was impressed we had the means of providing so many options for the troops, but unfortunately, I didn’t see griffin anywhere on the menu.

  “Um … this might sound crazy,” I said with a forced chuckle, “but you don’t happen to serve griffin, do you?”

  “Griffin?” one of the cooks squawked. “No, sir, no griffin. We’ve got eel, though.”

  My heart clenched as I thought of my water spawn fried up on a platter, and I shook my head.

  “No, I don’t eat eel,” I officially decided. “It’s kind of important that I get griffin, actually.”

  “Ah, you on one of them fancy diets?” the cook asked as she eyed my body up and down, and she nodded in approval. “Looks like it’s workin’, but we don’t have any griffin.”

  “It’s for one of my women,” I explained. “She’s pregnant and really wants griffin.”

  The two women paused their chopping as they cocked their brows.

  “That’s a new one on me,” the cook muttered. “Can’t say I’ve ever cooked up a griffin, but if you find me one, I’ll throw it on the fryer for her.”

  “Hmm. I guess I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, is there anything that kind of tastes like griffin?”

  “Couldn�
�t say,” the cook chuckled. “Never ate one. The Number Five’s our most popular dish so far, though. Grilled venison with a side of mashed potatoes and honeyed bread.”

  “I’ll just take five of those,” I sighed.

  “Comin’ right up!”

  I nodded my thanks before I returned to the dining area to finish my other ale, and while I surveyed the room with my back against the wall, I heard Haragh’s voice coming down the train.

  I furrowed my brow immediately because I had no intention of stationing him outside Falmount, but when he entered the dining car with Taru as well, I snorted ale out my nose from my shock.

  “Haragh?” I spluttered. “What’s … ”

  “There ye’ are,” the half-ogre boomed, and he looped his arm in Taru’s as they attempted to squeeze their way between the booths. “I was wonderin’ where you all were.”

  “We’re just on the other side of this car,” I replied. “I think I might have been a little too hands off with the preparation, though. I should have told Kurna not to send you out. There’s no way I’m storming the Master’s fortress without you.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Haragh snorted. “I told him myself, ye’ idiot. I’m just helpin’ with the troops. Brought Taru along on account of her being in such a delicate state and all.”

  “That’s a relief,” I sighed.

  “Only trouble is, there’s not much room for the both of us in those bunks ye’ made up,” Haragh pointed out. “I don’t suppose ye’ could find some space for us elsewhere? Just so Taru’s more comfortable. A bit of privacy, ye’ know.”

  “You want your own sleeping quarters?”

  “Basically, and I really don’t think it’s askin’ a lot,” the half-ogre continued. “I do my work, don’ I? Loyal and true.”

  “Haragh, there’s hundreds of mages on this train,” I reminded him. “If I gave you your own quarters, everyone would end up asking me and--”

  “It’s alright,” Taru assured me, and her voice hit me like a glitter bomb.

  The ogre woman had never spoken directly to me before, but even after hearing her address the dog that one time, I wasn’t prepared for the sheer beauty of her voice.

  Her tone was so soft and as sweet as honey, and I found myself smiling hazily as I looked into her blood red eyes. They were rimmed with dense, chocolate brown lashes that made her seem so endearing, and she looked back at me with patience and complete understanding. Then she told me not to worry about her, that she was just happy to be with Haragh, and all I heard were angels singing.

  “I can do it,” I said at once. “It’s no problem. I’ll talk to Bagneera about picking up an extra car down the tracks.”

  “Thanks, man,” Haragh said with pleasant surprise. “We really appreciate it.”

  “Any time,” I told Taru. “Just let me know if there’s anything else I can ever do for you. Anything at all. I’m right here.”

  Taru smiled the tiniest bit, but then Haragh cleared his throat, and I found him eyeing me with his brow furrowed.

  “Enjoy your meal,” I blurted out, and I tried to silently communicate that I had no idea what was happening right now as I held Haragh’s gaze.

  Then he smirked. “You as well.”

  “Yep,” I said with a nod.

  Then I drained the last of my mug as the half-ogre turned to lead his woman to a table, and he chose a booth that was occupied by a few men who were talking over their empty plates. When Haragh ordered them to move, they jumped out of the booth immediately, and he smiled at Taru as he helped her into her seat.

  I instinctively summoned my metal magic to adjust the spacing so she would be more comfortable, though, and Haragh cocked a brow in my direction.

  Luckily, my order was up, and as soon as I had my five boxes balanced on one arm, I made a quick escape.

  Chapter 10

  “What’s wrong with you?” Aurora snorted when I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.

  “Nothing,” I quickly answered. “I ran into Haragh.”

  “What?” the half-elf gasped. “Mason, we can’t send Haragh out. Who’s gonna flail the fuck out of the Master’s forces with me when we--”

  “I know, it was my mistake,” I admitted as I piled the boxes on the table. “I told Kurna and Urn to take over the rosters, but I might have to be more hands on in the future. Haragh handled it, though, he’s just coming along to help organize the crews. He brought Taru with him.”

  “That’s so sweet,” Shoshanne sighed. “I was hoping we’d get to see her again soon. We should have her over to visit.”

  “We should,” Cayla agreed.

  “Maybe,” I muttered.

  “What do you mean maybe?” Deya asked with crinkled brows. “Don’t you like Taru?”

  “Totally,” I assured her, but then I stood there shifting my weight while I considered my recent exchange. “So … is it weird if I’m kind of inclined to do anything I possibly can for Taru because she seems like an absolute peach who deserves the world?”

  “Not at all,” Shoshanne chuckled. “She is an absolute peach, and she does deserve the world.”

  “That might be Haragh’s job, though,” Cayla casually added.

  “Yeah, it is,” I agreed. “That’s probably why it was weird. She talked to me, and I wasn’t prepared. I don’t know what happened.”

  “You realized she’s an amazing woman,” Aurora informed me. “I understand. I say the most random things whenever she’s around just so she’ll talk to me some more. There’s something about how she looks into your eyes, and you know there’s no judgement there. Only Taru and her super sweet self.”

  “Exactly!” I sighed. “You get it.”

  “I do,” the half-elf chuckled. “But Haragh might not … ”

  “Yeah, he gave me a look,” I admitted. “It was pointed.”

  “Be careful,” Deya giggled as she pulled one of the boxes over. Then the elf’s smile immediately vanished as she looked down at her plate. “Mason, this isn’t griffin.”

  My women froze as they glanced at me, and I rubbed the back of my neck while I sent my beautiful elf an apologetic look.

  “The cooks said they don’t have griffin, but I have a solution I think we can all live with,” I tried. “The woman said she’d be happy to cook some griffin up for you if I find one. So, at our first post, I’ll ask around, find out the nearest hunting location, get you a decent sized one, bring it back, and--”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Deya sighed as she closed her box and nudged it away.

  “You’re … not gonna eat anything?” I asked.

  “No. The baby only wants griffin. Everything else makes me disgusted to think of it.”

  I nodded as I caught the weighted looks of my other women, and I calmly took my seat while I considered my very beautiful, pregnant, and hungry lover who I would do anything to please.

  “I guess you could go hunting,” I finally said. “If that’s what you--”

  “Okay!” Deya said as she lit up, and she shimmied herself over Aurora’s lap to head for her bag of scales.

  Shoshanne discreetly patted my leg while she sent me a sweet smile, and I nodded as I started in on my own meal.

  At least Deya was content, but I had a feeling I’d have to carve a puke hole into the floor sometime so there wouldn’t be a bunch of half-digested bones strewn around the car.

  Once Deya was happily transmuting on the bed, Cayla craned her neck to make sure she was fully absorbed before she leaned across the table.

  “You’re the sweetest man alive,” the princess whispered. “I can’t wait until I’m carrying your baby, and you let me have anything I like.”

  “I already do let you have anything you like,” I chuckled.

  “But I mean the weird things,” Cayla giggled.

  “Like having sex with Mason while he designs new deadly weapons for you?” Aurora muttered.

  “Hey,” the princess snapped. “That is the sexiest gun you�
�ve ever seen.”

  “It is,” the half-elf chuckled, and Cayla adjusted her corset with a haughty nod.

  “I mean the things that make no sense,” the princess clarified.

  Shoshanne nodded in agreement. “Let’s just hope we don’t all go as feral as Deya.”

  “Please?” I groaned. “I can do cake or chocolate so much easier.”

  “I think it’s cute that she needs to tear creatures to shreds right now,” Aurora mused while she nibbled on her food. “This time is so fleeting, you know?”

  I grinned. “That’s true. One day, I might miss watching her spew raw sinew all over my floor.”

  Shoshanne gagged as she held her fingers to her lips.

  “Can we not discuss Deya’s puking habits during mealtimes?” the healer mumbled.

  “New topic,” Aurora announced. “Mason, I want to set aside time to work on my craft more.”

  “Your magery?” I asked.

  “Yes,” the half-elf replied. “You’ve been advancing so quickly with your magery, and it’s so inspiring, but I’m starting to feel a little left behind. Ever since the Master showed up, I’ve put most of my focus into fighting his advances, and I haven’t dedicated myself to my studies.”

  “I completely agree,” I mumbled through my bite. “We’ll be travelling for a few days, and the generals are picking up a lot of the slack, so that should give you time between stops. You might want to ask Nulena for some pointers. She taught herself about her magery, and I’m sure she’d be just as helpful to you as you’ve been to me.”

  “Wait, she taught herself?” Cayla clarified. “With no one else’s input?”

  I shrugged. “I think so. That’s what she told me when I saw her at Temin’s castle. She never studied at the Oculus, but she can push her magic outside herself and everything.”

  “Gods,” Shoshanne sighed. “That woman is constantly full of surprises.”

  “That is incredible,” Aurora agreed. “Most mages outside the Order lead difficult lives on account of their untamed powers. That’s why they eventually come to the Oculus, but to recognize the possibilities and explore them independently with no one’s help is no easy feat.”