Carnival of the Soul

by Cebelius

  "Break me bond to Thomas," Isthil said quietly. "I'll ask no more than that. Free me, please."

  Terry thought about that, about what he would have to do to break Isthil's bond. He had spent much of the last week practicing his magic, and as he thought about how to accomplish what she wanted without any side effects, he decided to try something.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he thought about what kind of phrasing he should use and then, careful to speak proper English, he said, "By the power in my veins, alter the seed of my next orgasm to break bonds rather than form them."

  A sudden heat suffused his privates, coiling inward like water funneling down a drain, but just at the point where it was getting too painful to bear in silence, the pain vanished. Terry felt weariness settle on him like a heavy blanket, and knew that the spell had taken most of his mana to cast. He knew that the phrasing of his spell meant it remained an active drain upon him, and that he should get this over with as soon as possible.

  "Prada."

  "Yes, Husband?"

  Prada wasn't keeping any particular shape, and simply slid in close and quivered as she stopped by his side.

  Terry nodded toward Isthil and said, "Do as she asks."

  "Right now?"

  There was a mischievous tone in her voice, and he gave her 'the look.'

  "Be efficient, but get it done."

  "What kind of spell did you cast?"

  "The kind that will accomplish my objective. Now, please."

  Isthil was looking on in some confusion as Prada's gumdrop shape shifted back and forth, then she said, "Nnno. I don't think so. Isthil? Close the curtains."

  "Prada, no. Euryale's not going to come back and patiently wait for you to do whatever the hell you're planning. We cannot leave this until tomorrow either. As long as she is bound to Thomas, who knows what can happen with her here. It needs to be quick, and it needs to be now."

  "The curtains, if you please," Prada said, clearly ignoring Terry.

  Isthil was so tall that all she had to do was lean to one side to reach the curtains, which she pulled closed before looking curiously from Prada to Terry, and then back.

  "I'm sorry, I dinnae mean to offend anyone, Terry Mack, but what is she?" Isthil asked, lifting a hand to indicate Prada. "I've lived a long time and I've never seen anything like her."

  "I am sooo many things. A sanguine devil, a doppelgänger, my husband's wife. I am Prada. And while I acknowledge the need to do this quickly, I do not wish to put on a show. Isthil?"

  "Yes?"

  "What I am about to do can be pleasant, or clinical. Which do you prefer?"

  Isthil was clearly thrown by the question, and her head tilted as she asked, "Are ye talkin' about the bonding? I ... thought that involved sex. I've never heard of clinical sex."

  "In this case, there will be no sex," Prada said, sounding perfectly annoyed. "My husband will give me his seed, and I will give it to you. Unfortunately, this has been tested and we know it works. So the question remains. Do you want my touch to be pleasant, or clinical?"

  "I ... well, I dunno," Isthil said, still looking very confused as she looked at Terry and asked, "Which should I choose?"

  Terry glanced at Prada and grinned, thinking about the last time she had done this. She was always meddling, always mischievous. He sensed a chance to get a little back, and decided to take it.

  He looked at Isthil and said, "Pro-tip: she cums when you do, and she's really greedy. The last time we did this, Prada made that poor woman cum so hard she passed out. Just so you know, that's the pleasant option."

  He cupped his mouth to shield it from Prada and mock whispered, "It's a trap!"

  "Husband!" Prada sounded scandalized as she spread out and began to rise up next to him.

  "If-you're-a-screamer-the-whole-camp-will-hear-you-ahh!" Terry blurted before Prada crashed down on him with all the force of a ruby wave to cut him off.

  'You're spoiling my fun!'

  Prada coiled and oozed around him almost violently, bringing him to rigid attention and jacking him off with all the subtlety of a junior high kid alone at home for the first time in a month.

  'I swear I will have my revenge for this!'

  As she aggressively forced him to cum, he barely managed to mentally string together, Maybe, but you better not do it NOW ... if you knock me out or wear me down, Euryale will never forgive you!

  'Ooooh! You ACTUALLY managed to outmaneuver me! You mark my words, Husband! There WILL be a reckoning!'

  His orgasm faded. It had been short, violent, and not nearly as good as his other experiences on Celestine. Still, he'd gotten the better of Prada for the first time, and that made it all worth it ... so he felt no need to hide his next thought or the genuine warmth that went with it.

  Something to look forward to.

  Prada froze for a long moment, during which he felt her probing around in his mind, checking for sincerity. When she found it, she said aloud, "Husband ... that was almost impossibly sweet. It won't save you, but I will probably refrain from my original plan of stripping you naked and hanging you from a post in the middle of the carnival while you sleep."

  "Hahaholy shit, what?!" Terry gasped, his laughter mostly terror-driven. "Jesus! I'm sorry!"

  Speaking aloud, Prada replied sharply, "Jesus is not the one you should be apologizing to, and don't you lie to me. You are not sorry."

  Glancing over at Isthil, he shrugged, still chuckling helplessly as he said, "She's got me there. It was worth it and I am totally not sorry."

  "Hush you! Now, Isthil, do you want it-"

  "Clinical! Definitely clinical!" Isthil said in a near panic, staring at Prada with an expression of wide-eyed fear as she added, "Please, just break the bond! I may be a Nightmare, but I'm not into that kina torture!"

  Terry, valiantly trying and failing to contain his grin, said, "Now see, if you'd treated me nice just now she might still have gone for it."

  "Ooooh Husband. Just you wait."

  And with that dire warning, Prada flowed around Isthil's front, seemed to hesitate a moment, then backed away again as she said, "It's done," still sounding surly about the whole affair.

  Terry blinked, then said, "Um ... question."

  Isthil looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he asked, "I don't mean to pry, but I thought your gear was in the back?"

  He pointed toward her equine rump, and Isthil glanced back at herself, then at him in momentary confusion. Then the light went on and her expression cleared.

  "Oooh! You mean me cunts! I've got two. One in front, and one in the back," Isthil said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "All centaurs are built that way, male and female. Dinnae ask me why."

  Terry closed his eyes and slowly leaned forward, covering his burning face with one hand as he made a gesture with the other pantomiming putting a piece of paper onto a stack as he said, "Yep! That's another on the pile of 'Questions I wish I hadn't asked.' Thanks sooo much."

  The weariness was still on him, and though he'd phrased the spell to be a one-shot thing he still felt compelled to focus and murmur, "End my spell."

  He felt no different, but it was better to be sure. He searched inside himself for evidence of his bonds, and found nothing missing, and nothing new. Well, he still felt a vague uneasiness from Mila. He could only presume that what he had done had worked as he planned.

  "Well, that's it then," he said aloud, turning his attention to Isthil. "Can you confirm that the bond with Thomas is broken?"

  "I ... yes, but where is your bond, Terry Mack?" the Nightmare asked.

  "You didn't ask for my bond. You asked me to break your bond. That's all I did."

  The curtain flapped open before Isthil could reply, and as she held it Euryale asked, "Master? Can you see my face?"

  Terry smiled warmly at her and opened his arms as he said, "I sure can. Welcome back."

  Euryale's smile lit her up like Christmas, and every single snake on her head was staring intently
at him. She straightened a bit and folded her arms imperiously as she announced, "Now! I crossed the continent on a Nightmare to get back to my master. While I am eager to catch up with you all, the very first thing I am going to do is get laid. So, if you aren't involved, shoo!"

  Isthil got up immediately and bowed low to Euryale as she said, "Thank you, Euryale. Without you I'da ne-"

  "Isthil? Sex now, gratitude later, kay?"

  Euryale's voice had that overly sweet note that meant imminent danger, and Terry caught Isthil's eye and jerked his head meaningfully toward the exit.

  "Aye! Understood! G'night."

  Isthil didn't actually physically leave. She simply faded into the shadows and disappeared, leaving Terry blinking, convinced that he could still see an after-image that wasn't actually there.

  "Well, that was interesting," Shy said as she slipped in and closed the curtain, then met Terry's eye and smiled slyly as she asked with faux innocence, "What? Euryale's back, she's getting laid ... and I'm involved. According to her, I get to stay."

  At Terry's bemused look she laughed — an easy, musical sound — as she knelt next to him and murmured, "Be thankful Laina is passed out, or she'd be in here too."

  Prada rose, taking on her template form, blonde hair and green eyes. Terry blinked as something occurred to him and he said, "Prada? How come your eyes are blue sometimes and green others?"

  "Because I can't quite decide which you like better. Sometimes your memories have blue eyes, sometimes they have green," she said. The words were flat, and it was obvious to Terry that she was genuinely upset with him.

  Did I misjudge her? Take the joke too far?

  He hadn't thought he had, but despite the fact that they had for a time been literally a single hybrid person, Terry and Prada were fundamentally different creatures. She was trying to learn his values, perhaps it was time for him to make the same effort.

  "I'll see myself out."

  "Why?" he asked, as Prada turned to go. He knew she didn't want to leave. Words she had whispered to him on their wedding night came back to him as he waited for her answer.

  Prada hesitated, frowning at him, then glancing meaningfully at Euryale as the gorgon settled her hips over his. She said, "Euryale has missed you, Husband. It is obvious she wants all your attention."

  Abruptly, he realized that it had nothing to do with Isthil. She was aware that Euryale might not welcome her presence. While Shy and Euryale had been intimate, allowing the dryad to presume, Prada had no personal interactions with the gorgon. Almost immediately after he had married Prada, Euryale had been lost. There had been no time for the two to work out for themselves what their relationship would be.

  This, this right here, is why people don't do harems. This shit's entirely too complicated.

  Terry shook his head bemusedly and kissed Euryale, then set a finger against her lips. She stilled, looking askance at him as he looked to Prada and said, "Wife, you said you wanted a share in all my bliss. Think this doesn't count? The only reason I wanted to be alone with Mila is because it was her first, and she isn't into group sex."

  "Euryale wouldn't mind?" Prada asked, turning her eyes on the gorgon, who paused just long enough to look at her and say, "You can stay. I don't really know you, but you have served me well in keeping my master safe."

  She looked at Terry as she added, "Besides, it's obvious he wants you to stay, and I want what my master wants. Always."

  He grinned at her and quirked a brow as he said, "Oh really. I can recall a few times that-"

  Euryale kissed him, filling his mouth with her serpentine tongue as she ground herself against his rising flesh, and Shy murmured in her ear, "Don't be a stickler for the details, Tee. Let her have her moment."

  He glanced at Shy and saw her smiling softly as she leaned up and beckoned to Prada, her voice warm and welcoming as she said, "This will be your first sexual experience with a body?"

  "Should I keep it?" Prada asked as she slipped into Shy's embrace. "It always seemed to me like too much of a bother."

  "As a blood devil, you simply inflict pleasures on your partner and feed on them," Shy murmured, her fingertips tracing gently down over Prada's spine. "If you keep a body of your own, I presume you might feel pleasure for yourself."

  Keeping one ear on the conversation between Shy and Prada was getting increasingly difficult as Euryale finally broke her kiss and whispered, "I want to taste you."

  "Didn't you just ... oh."

  Terry grinned as Euryale slipped down his body. Her snakes explored his chest as she went, tongues flickering out, their sensations tiny individually but adding up as they moved, teasing his nipples and causing his chest to tighten reflexively.

  She smiled at that and slipped her main tongue into his belly button as her snakes played with his nipples. Her blue eyes glimmered as she watched his face twist as he struggled not to writhe against the ticklish assault.

  Then she dragged her claws down his sides, and he gasped. For a moment he was sure she'd cut him, but he felt no blood, and she hummed with satisfaction as she lowered herself further, settling between his spread thighs as she wrapped her tongue twice around his erect flesh and pulled it to her lips, then past.

  The first time she had done this had been in the tomb where he had found her, and she had not done more than taste him then. This time she seemed intent on pleasuring him, and it very quickly became apparent to Terry that she had no idea what she was doing.

  With her eyes on his, he struggled to keep from wincing as she squeezed and tugged on him with her tongue, but it was getting difficult as it seemed Euryale had gotten the idea that the harder she squeezed, the better it would be.

  Shy leaned over him, and his eyes flickered to hers. She touched him, and through that contact spoke into his mind.

  'She needs help with that, doesn't she.'

  It wasn't really a question. Shy knew. He could feel her mind, and sent gratitude flowing into it as she brushed kisses over his belly and then drew Euryale off his shaft to kiss her in turn.

  Prada tilted her head into his view, looking at him with that familiar mischief in her eyes as she said, "Shy told me there was something you do for her that I would enjoy. Care to demonstrate?"

  He patted his chest, and she straddled him, then slid forward as he wrapped his arms around her thighs to settle her. As he began, he shivered as he felt Shy brushing fingers around his glans and then elsewhere as she said, "He's extremely sensitive here, here, and here. Just like the seasons, a man's arousal changes. What makes his cock swell will not necessarily make him finish. Even if it does, it may not be the best feeling. If you want to give him the most powerful orgasms, you must learn what he likes. Here, let me show you ..."

  Terry groaned into Prada's sex as he felt Shy's lips, felt her tongue. She wrapped her hand around the base of him, stroking in time with her lazy play, and the warm air of her breath as she opened her mouth and ran her tongue over the head of his shaft made him shiver as he felt himself getting harder.

  Euryale gasped, "Look at him twitch! Can I try?"

  Terry tried concentrating on Prada as a way to distract himself from the two women taking turns playing with his cock. He'd wrapped hands around her hips and had her caged, but in this position it was easier to use his fingers on her clit and mons while his tongue curled inside her.

  Prada's expression as she met his gaze had a strange intensity to it as she murmured, "This is certainly different, Husband. These sensations you cause, but do not feel for yourself. I find though, that I am impatient for pleasure, and I would like to feel yours. This body feels like a straightjacket, when there is obviously so much more to experience here. Would it offend you if we try this some other time ... perhaps, when we are alone?"

  With his tongue buried deep inside her and his shaft under a serious lingual assault, Terry wasn't exactly able to reply verbally, but he knew Prada could sense him from where she was, and he sent her his approval.

  Prada smiled
at him, and then quite literally melted down atop him, her flesh distorting and settling as she lost shape and her color shifted from pale to ruby. He felt his body shifting to accommodate her as she settled into him, and within his mind he felt a sense of relief along with her thoughts.

  'While being a doppelgänger has its uses, I feel so much more comfortable this way. Your body is where I live ... where I feel most at home.'

  Well then, welcome home.

  He grinned as he felt some of her substance settle under his head to lift it, giving him a view of the two women who were practically worshipping his cock. For a bare second he thought she was being considerate, but then realized that, no, she just wanted to see for herself and needed his eyes.

  Euryale was beginning to experiment, with her main tongue's fork trailing up and down the underside of his shaft as she held it upright with the curve of one of her snakes. Each side of the fork was curling around his girth to stroke independently. Several other strands of her hair were flicking their tongues around the head, and the feeling was like nothing in his experience. It was a complex web of sensation and he felt tension building inside him as his body flexed upward involuntarily to get more.

  'Mmmm, that feels nice. I wondered if you would start excluding me again. I am glad that you remembered my wish.'

  Splitting his mind between the pleasure being heaped upon him and Prada was difficult, but when Euryale paused to whisper something to Shy, he thought, Why would I? After we fused, what possible reason could I have? You're my wife. If I'm not going to share my pleasure with you, who the hell would I share it with?

  Warmth tingled through him. Prada's happiness was so profound it manifested as a physical sensation, and her substance behind his head slipped around his shoulders, digging in, massaging in a way that made him shudder and groan.

  Euryale glanced up when she heard him, and her eyebrow lifted when she saw what was happening. She asked, "She's feeding now?"

  Shy laughed as she said, "Prada is giving him a massage."

  Euryale blinked and said, "He's groaning like that from a massage?"