The Mage's Passion

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The Mage's Passion Page 7

by Reed James


  “Gods, yes,” groaned the karabasan through my Angela. “What a delicious cunt. A pure, priestess's cunt. I always wanted to defile one of Saphique's virgins. What a treat.”

  Angela thrust her cock back into my depths. I shuddered as the pleasure washed over me. Wave after wave, churned by her dick, crashed through my mind. I drank it in, forgetting about the dangers to Angela while I was caught in the torrent of bliss.

  And then she erupted into me.

  My eyes widened. I had never felt the like. Hot cum squirted into my pussy. I never should have felt this sensation. I shuddered in revulsion. A real cock was in me. I was no longer pure. I had lost my connection to my Goddess.

  “That's it, slut,” hissed the karabasan. “Take my cum. Mmm, you brought me a little bit closer to possessing your Angela. But I need more.”

  I squeaked as the cock ripped out of my soiled pussy. Cum leaked out. Hot, sticky, nasty cum. I shuddered as Angela's strong hands flipped me over onto my stomach. She slapped my ass with her shaft, and then the hard, spectral cock pressed at my sphincter, lubed by my pussy juices.

  “No,” I groaned, throwing a look over my shoulder.

  Angela looked the same, except the cock made of black, translucent energy thrusting from her groin and into the valley of my asscheeks. The tip pressed on my sphincter, lubed by my pussy juices. The karabasan made Angela thrust.

  Her dick speared into my depths. I gasped, my eyes widening as my sphincter gave way and the hot bliss of anal sex washed through me. I shuddered and groaned, gripping the sheets as she speared her cock deeper and deeper into me.

  “Yes, I'll fuck your asshole until I cum,” the karabasan hissed. “And then I'll make you suck my cock clean. Mmm, three cums will bring me close, but it will take all night for the transformation. You will have so much cum leaking out of your whorish body.”

  “No,” I gasped. “I'll stop you.”

  “How?” Angela thrust her cock deep into my asshole. I groaned as the pleasure rushed out of me. “You love it.”

  “I'll...” My hips bucked up into her thrusts. How could I stop her? I didn't have my magic any longer. I couldn't exorcise the karabasan from Angela. Worse, she was stronger than me and my body loved the feel of her cock slamming into my depths.

  “That's right. You can't, whore.” The karabasan laughed as she pounded my asshole. “You're weak.”

  “I am,” I panted. “But...” Xera and Faoril were in the next room. “Xera, help! Xera! I need you!”

  ~ * ~

  Xerathalasia

  The moans and pants of Angela and Sophia woke me up. My ears twitched in the dim room of the inn. To a human, it would be dark, but moonlight and starlight bled through the small window. Faoril slept beside me, her back to me.

  The mage slept undisturbed by the moans coming in from the other room.

  I rolled onto my side and cuddled into Faoril's back, pressing my heavy breasts into her naked skin. I concentrated on Faoril's slow breathing, tuning out Angela and Sophia's bizarre lovemaking. They were pretending Angela was a man with a cock.

  Sophia loved it.

  My ears twitched and a hot itch formed in my pussy. My nipples hardened against Faoril's back. Her skin was smooth against my hard nipples. I pressed my nose into her hair and inhaled Faoril's scent, a mix of human musks and the chalks she carried in her robes.

  As an elvish hunter, I had trained my acute senses to filter out the unimportant. Angela and Sophia's lovemaking became a passionate murmur, a mix of moans, gasps, bed creaking, and flesh slapping.

  I concentrated on Faoril. She inhaled. She exhaled. Her heart beat in her chest. It was far slower than the frantic beat humans had when they were active. Maybe that was why they lived such short lives—their hearts beat so fast compared to an Elf's.

  I used to spoon my wife like this on those rare nights we had alone. I pictured Atharilesia, her stomach round with our unborn daughter, her necklaces jangling around her lush breasts, a lovely smile on her lips.

  She was a wonderful wife. So supportive and understanding on why I had to come on the quest. I was glad my sister was there to watch over Atharilesia. By the time we returned from the quest, my daughter would have already been born.

  I didn't want to—

  “...Xera...”

  My ears twitched. Sophia had cried out my name. Like most individuals, I was sensitive to my name being said. It resonated out of the background noise. I looked at the wall behind me, my ears focusing on the room.

  “Xera! I need you!” screamed Sophia while the bed groaned and flesh slapped together.

  “Quiet, whore,” Angela shouted. But her voice was different. There was a second person speaking at the same time.

  “Faoril,” I hissed, shaking the mage.

  “Xera! The karabasan has possessed—” Sophia's words cut off.

  “Faoril.” I shook the mage harder.

  “Hmm?” groaned the mage, stirring. “What?”

  “Trouble.” I rolled out of bed and snatched my knife from my discarded belt, my breasts jiggling.

  Faoril sat up and rubbed at her eyes. Her short hair framed her petite face. Her right side had red crease lines running across it left by the lump pillow. “What's going on?”

  I told her. Faoril gasped and reached down to grab her red robe. She pulled it up and fumbled around within it, searching for the pocket that contained her cum vials. She grabbed one and downed the jizz—the fuel for her magic.

  “Let's go,” Faoril said as she pulled on her robe. It hung loose over her body as she rushed to the door.

  I followed, padding naked. I didn't have the human shame and need to clothe my body.

  Sophia and Angela's room was next to ours. The door only a few steps away. Faoril reached it and threw the door open, stepping into the room. Her back straight. She was a bold woman, confident in her magic.

  I followed.

  “That's it, whore,” growled Angela, her hand clasped over Sophia's mouth as she fucked her spectral cock in and out of Sophia's asshole.

  The brunette acolyte shuddered and moaned, her hips bucking up into Angela's thrusts. The tart musk of Sophia's arousal mixed with the salty scent of Angela's cum. Sophia, despite calling for help, was in the throes of passion, cumming on the cock reaming her asshole.

  “I'll attend to you whores in a moment,” Angela hissed, the karabasan speaking through her.

  “I don't think so,” Faoril said calmly.

  Angela gasped as she was yanked up into the air by the wind swirling through the room. Though Faoril did not speak, I could hear her voice whispering through the room, commanding the air to seize Angela.

  “Bitch,” snarled Angela, her spectral cock thrusting from her groin as she struggled against the invisible bonds.

  “I think a gag is appropriate,” Faoril said. “I'm sorry, Angela.”

  Part of the blanket tore. A wad of cloth shoved into Angela's open mouth then a long strip bound it about her head. Faoril had such control over her magic, she even knotted the cloth tight behind Angela's head.

  “Xera, there is rope in Angela's saddlebags,” Faoril said, her voice even. “Fetch it. We will have to tie her up.”

  “Just have Sophia exorcise her,” I said.

  “I...I...can't...” sobbed Sophia. She pulled the blankets over her and rolled into a ball beneath them.

  “Why?” I frowned.

  “She is sworn to Saphique to always remain pure,” Faoril answered. “A cock fucked her. She lost her connection to her goddess.”

  “But surely she was forced, even if the creature's magic caused her pleasure.”

  “It doesn't matter,” sobbed Sophia. “I lost it.”

  Chapter Eight: Changes

  Journeyman Mage Faoril

  The possessed Angela struggled against my magic. But I held her immobile with a simple thought. It was truly easy. The air bound her in place. All she could do was scream through her gag and try to fuck her hips at me.

 
Did the spirit think she could attract me to her cock by doing that?

  Although...

  I shook my head. As a female mage, I was a cum-slut and a cock lover. I loved examining new cocks and seeing how they performed. I had a journal full of entries on the subject matter. But making the karabasan cum would only aid him.

  I moved to the bed and sat on the edge. I touched Sophia as she huddled beneath the covers, shuddering as she cried. I stroked her through the covering and made a motherly, shushing sound. I vaguely remembered my mother making that sound when I was a child and had nightmares.

  “It'll be okay, Sophia.”

  “She's gone,” the acolyte sobbed. “I can't feel her anymore. I never even realized how she made me feel. She was inside of me.”

  “Saphique?”

  “Yes.” Another sob racked Sophia. “And she was ripped away.”

  “But surly you can be re-blessed?” I pulled back the blanket, exposing her tear-stained face. Her eyes were puffy. “Right?”

  “I guess,” Sophia muttered. “I didn't knowingly break my vows. I was forced.”

  “Right,” I nodded. “I know it's scary. I would hate to lose my magic.”

  Sophia sat up and did not look at Angela struggling over us. “He possessed her. I loved her and she...betrayed me.”

  “Not on purpose.” I put an arm over Sophia's shoulder and pulled her close. The scent of the spirit's cum filled my nose. What properties would karabasan cum have? It would be good for working mind control spells, an offshoot of life magic.

  I glanced up at Angela. Whispering thoughts filled my mind. It wouldn't really hurt her to be harvested one more time. It would take dozens of orgasms for the spirit possessing her to transform her body. She was so helpless right now. I could take my measurements and then jerk her off...

  I glanced at Sophia. I bet she wouldn't like that.

  I put an arm around her and pulled her to my breasts. She pressed against my naked skin between the opening of my robe. Her tears stained my tits as she sobbed into me. I stroked her brown hair and rocked her.

  “It'll be okay. There's a temple to Saphique in Allenoth. Your sisters will help you. We'll reach it in two days of traveling. Right on the Summer Solstice. Imagine that.” I smiled. “There'll be a festival to the Goddess Biaute going on. We could have fun after we help you out.”

  “I guess,” Sophia sniffed.

  The door opened and Xera walked in with a coil of rope. The elf unwound the rope as I lowered Angela to the ground. The spirit fought as I used air to bend her arms behind her back. Xera deftly tied Angela's hands together.

  “We'll have to keep her bound until we reach Allenoth,” I said. “She'll need to be exorcised by a stronger priestess than Sophia.”

  “It should have worked,” Sophia muttered. “I drove the spirit out. It should have returned to the other side.”

  “Maybe it did,” I mused. “But because of the spiritual turbulence you sensed, the spirit crossed back over.”

  “So...it will always come after us or others?” Xera asked as she went to work on Angela's feet. The elf tied her knots with skill, binding the Angela's ankles together.

  I released my magic and Angela squirmed on the floor, glaring daggers at me with her blue eyes. I knew it was the spirit. The real Angela was trapped in there, helpless to break free and no doubt horrified at what she was forced to do to Sophia.

  “No, the turbulence ended,” Sophia whispered. “When I woke up, right before Angela...penetrated me, the world felt normal. Whatever was the cause of the turbulence has ended.”

  “It still concerns me,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out Fireeyes's journal.

  Sophia grimaced. “Why did you pull that out?”

  “Fireeyes delved into the secrets of death and beyond,” I answered. “It is horrific the acts he committed but, perhaps, there is a clue to what happened that could be garnered. The turbulence started the night he died.”

  “Yeah, but that was hours apart,” Sophia said. “Why would it start hours after?”

  “True,” I nodded. “I may be drawing an inference from a simple coincidence. Just because his death proceeded the event does not indicate causation.”

  Sophia blinked. “What?”

  “I was agreeing with you. It would be foolish to think Fireeyes is responsible. He was dead.”

  “Maybe it was his spirit trying to cross over,” shuddered Xera. “If he truly was powerful and studied death...”

  “Only the most powerful of spirits can normally cross over,” Sophia agreed. “Eww, I don't like the sound of that.”

  “Then it is even more pressing that I read his journal,” I declared. “Don't you agree, Sophia?”

  “Yes.” She pulled her blankets around her. “I need to take a bath. I'll go wake up a maid and see if they can help me out.”

  “We'll keep watch on Angela,” Xera nodded.

  I conjured a ball of light, a mix of air and fire, and sat cross-legged on Sophia's bed, reading the spidery handwriting of the most terrible warlock of the last hundred years. My stomach roiled as I read his sick notes.

  He took such joy in his experimentations.

  ~ * ~

  Acolyte Sophia

  I sank into the filled copper tub, the water warmed. The tired maid dozed on a chair in the corner. I grabbed the brush, the bristles made from stiff swine hair, and scrubbed my body. I felt so dirty. Angela had soiled me.

  Tears trickled down my body as the bristles rasped across my skin. I scrubbed hard, leaving my skin pink. I ignored the pain. I had to get clean. I had never felt so filthy in all my life. Angela had defiled me.

  No. Not Angela. It was the spirit.

  But when I closed my eyes, it was Angela's face above me, her breasts and soft body atop me, her hair falling around us, and her voice calling me her whore as she plunged her cock in and out of my pussy.

  I scrubbed at my sex, fighting against the pain. I had to be clean.

  Would I ever be clean again?

  More silent tears fell as I lay back in the tub and stared up at the ceiling. How could I ever be purified again? I had a cock in me. And I had enjoyed it. My body had responded. I came like a whore, twice.

  I moaned and panted. I begged for it.

  What was wrong with me? How could I have enjoyed it?

  The rational part of me explained the spirit's magic increased your libido. It sent pleasure through my body. I couldn't help it. I didn't have to feel guilty for enjoying it. It wasn't my fault. And it wasn't Angela.

  I threw the brush. It crashed into the wall. The maid jerked awake. “Ma'am, are you okay?”

  “No,” I muttered, sinking my head beneath the water. It washed over me, warm and safe. I held my breath, staying under as long as I could. I didn't want to surface.

  But I had to breathe.

  I popped my head above the water. I needed to be strong. I would be purified. I would be made whole in Allenoth. There Angela would be fixed, and then we would continue on the quest like nothing ever happened. I just had to be strong.

  Angela was strong. And I could be, too.

  ~ * ~

  Fireeyes – Allenoth Highway, Magery of Thosi

  My eyes opened. I raised my arm. It was strange. Too strong and too long to be my own arm. I sat up and a wave of dizziness washed over me. The ground was farther below than was normal. My hands were thick, calloused from work, and had pale skin.

  Not the reddish hue I was used to seeing. I shook my head, mastering the momentary surge of panic.

  I was in my new body.

  “Good morning, Master,” my simulacrum said as she knelt naked before me. Her hairless head was round and exotic. Her breasts were firm, her nipples hard. Her tart pussy juices wafted into my nose.

  “How long did I sleep?” I growled.

  “A day-and-a-half,” the simulacrum replied. “It is the Summer Solstice.”

  I blinked. “Three days since I...died.”

  �
��Nearly, Master. It is morning.”

  “Three days for Angela to get farther away,” I growled.

  “So I would presume, Master.”

  I took a deep breath, struggling to think. “What paraphernalia do I have?”

  “Only your phylactery and the amulet King Edward gave you.”

  “So I can still track the bitch.” I stretched. My body possessed an abundance of hard muscles. It was strong and sturdy, the opposite of my original body.

  “I am sorry I couldn't recover any of your paraphernalia,” the simulacrum continued. “Angela and her companions stripped your corpse. I only managed to hide the two pendants in my pussy.”

  “That's fine.” I stretched, a smile crossing my lips. “It worked. I came back from the dead.”

  Now, could I still use magic? If my theorems were correct, the knowledge and skill was tied to my soul, not my body. I glanced down at the simulacrum. My cock hardened at her beauty. This body had lusts. Youth. My cock was thick, larger than my original.

  “I am ready to be taken,” the simulacrum said, no emotion in her voice.

  I thrust my hand down and grabbed her by the throat, squeezing. Her life fluttered beneath my fingers. Even though simulacrum were artificial creations, they still lived. They still had hearts beating blood through their veins.

  I loved the feel of her fluttering beneath me. She didn't fight even as she struggled to breathe. I squeezed a little harder. Her body shuddered as she gasped. My cock ached harder. I threw her down on the bed I slept on, her breasts bouncing.

  Her thighs parted. “Take...me...Master...” she choked out. “Use...me...”

  Like the rest of her body, no hair adorned her flushed pussy. Her juices coated her pussy and upper thighs. Mages created Simulacrum to produce an excess of sexual fluids to power their masters' magic. If I fucked her to orgasm, I would absorb the energy I needed to prove I still had magic.

  I slammed my cock into her hot, tight depths. Her pussy gripped my cock, and she shuddered. Her heart beat faster, her pulse fluttering beneath my grasp. I squeezed and her pussy clamped down on my cock, caressing the sensitive tip.

 

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