The Mage's Passion

by Reed James

  They knew a real man when they saw one. Orcs were real men.

  “I'm going to fuck you so hard,” I snarled as I headed into the service corridor.

  I barely glanced at Xera in the alcove as she ground on the face of the serving girl. The music still bled through the walls, filling me with such lusts. I had to unleash them. I had to pour them into my Faoril. I had to please her and love her and make her scream my name into the night air.

  I burst through the side door into the courtyard. The stables were nearby. The music faded to a dull whisper, the night air wonderfully cool on my skin. The day had been warm, but the wind blowing down from the towering Lesh-Ke Mountains to the south brought such relief.

  “Oh, Thrak, I'm so wet,” moaned Faoril. “I'm dripping down my thighs.”

  I set her down, and she leaned against the wall, her red robes crimson in the moonlight. My thick fingers deftly unfastened the ties, and her robe fell open. It was heavy, her pockets filled with all manner of arcane paraphernalia. Underneath, she was wonderfully naked.

  I fell to my knees. My dick ached, but I had to taste her spice. Her hand seized my black, woolly hair, pulling my broad, piercing-studded face between her thighs. Her flesh was silky and her spicy musk filled my nose.

  I inhaled deeply. “My mage.”

  “Yes,” Faoril moaned, her hands tightening in my hair. “My barbarian.”

  I buried my lips into her pussy. Her spicy musk dribbled into my hungry mouth. I licked as I rubbed my thick lips and the bone piercings into her flesh. Her round breasts jiggled as she shuddered against the wall.

  Her juices coated my tongue. I closed my eyes, savoring her spicy musk. I shoved a thick finger deep into her hot depths, my dick throbbing beneath my kilt in anticipation of her tight embrace. My tongue licked and nuzzled at her clit while my free hand reached around beneath her robe and gripped her ass, pulling her tight against my tongue.

  “Oh, yes, lick up my juices,” gasped Faoril. “Oh, that's what I need. Mmm, you are amazing. You know how to please a woman. You know how to make her cum so hard on your cock. Oh, yes, Thrak. Devour me.”

  “I planned on it, slut.”

  “Slut,” she moaned. “Mmm, I love that word. Slut. I'm an orc's slut. My pussy is owned by Thrak. It craves his cock, his tongue, and his fingers.”

  She clenched her pussy down on my probing finger. Her body shuddered. Her free hand squeezed her pink nipples. They would look beautiful pierced. And she needed another ring piercing her clit so I could play with it when I ate her cunt.

  Faoril ground harder. The pleasure stirred through her. She shuddered on my hungry mouth. Her body heaved as she humped against my tongue on her clit and my finger in her cunt. Her juices trickled down to my wrist, coating my hand.

  She was excited. The music had driven her wild with lust.

  My hand squeezing her ass moved to her crack. She had another hole I could play with. I dipped between her silky cheeks and savored the growing warmth. I brushed her sphincter, swirling my thick finger around it.

  “Thrak, you amazing orc,” she gasped as my finger sank deep into her asshole. Her hands tightened in my hair as she bucked and ground against me. “Oh, yes. Get my ass ready. I want your cock back there. Not my pussy. I need to cum so hard.”

  “Yes,” I growled. “I'll make you explode. I'll fuck your ass so hard.”

  I pulled my lips and fingers from her body. She gasped as I ripped her robes off her shoulders. She stood naked in the courtyard, her body trembling in the darkness. I spun her around, her curvy rear before my face.

  I parted those cheeks and buried my lips between them. I tongued her sour sphincter while my hands reached around her body to play with her pussy. I fucked two fingers into her tight cunt with one hand while the other attacked her clit.

  “Thrak, yes,” gasped Faoril, her hips undulating, her butt-cheeks clenching on my face as my tongue drove into her bowels.

  My dick ached harder. The sensitive tip rubbed at the fabric of my kilt, eager to be buried to the hilt in my sweet Faoril. Her juices coated my fingers. I ripped the pair out of her cunt and slid them up her taint to her asshole. I licked at her sphincter as I shoved the two lubed digits into her asshole.

  “You like that, slut?” I growled. “A taste of the real pleasure you'll get when my cock reams your tight ass.”

  “I love it,” she gasped, her bowels clenching on my fingers.

  I kept rubbing at her clit. Her body shuddered. Her head tossed back and then she bucked. I moved my mouth lower, licking at the bottom of her pussy as her spicy juices flooded out. I drank as she screamed out her pleasure into the night.

  “My orc made me cum,” Faoril gasped. “Oh, yes, he's all mine. He owns my body, and I own his. He's going to fuck my ass and make me cum again.”

  “Yes, I am,” I growled as I rose, ripping my fingers from her ass while savoring her hot pussy juice on my lips. My hands hiked up my kilt, my dick brushing the cheeks of her ass. I left a glistening line of precum as I moved my cock across her rear. “This is my asshole. I claim it.”

  “Yes,” Faoril gasped as I thrust hard into her depths.

  Her tight, hot, velvety bowels engulfed my cock as I pressed her into the side of the building. I draped my muscular chest across her supple back, the top of her head brushing my chin. I drew back, my cock aching in her depths, the pleasure shooting to my balls, then thrust back into her, the bone piercing at the tip of my dick sliding along her flesh, tugging on my head.

  It added one more delicious sensation for the both of us.

  “Fuck,” gasped Faoril, her body trembling.

  Her rear pushed back, undulating as she took my cock. My swarthy cock slammed in and out of her pale asscheeks. I braced my hands against the wall as I fucked her hard, pounding her ass, my balls smacking into her flesh.

  “Take it, whore,” I snarled. “Take every inch of my cock. You love it.”

  “So much,” Faoril gasped. “Such an amazing cock. Keep fucking me. Give me that wonderful cum. You know how much I love your cum.”

  I let out a growling laugh. “You are my cum-slut.”

  Her ass tightened on my cock. “Yes. Yes.”

  Faoril quivered beneath me. She moaned again, her ass writhing about my dick as her second orgasm burst through her body. I loved making her cum. I fucked her faster as she screamed out my name for the night.

  “That's it, slut,” I growled. “Clench that ass. Make my cock erupt into your tight bowels. You want my cum dripping out of you.”

  “I do,” she gasped. “Pater's cock, yes. Cum in me. Flood me.”

  Our flesh slapped together. Her body's shivering died down as her orgasm faded. She still gasped and grunted, her bowels still tight on my cock. I closed my eyes, savoring the hot velvet caressing my cock, building the pleasure in my balls.

  “Keep pounding me,” she groaned. “Don't let up until you give me all the cum in those thick balls.”

  “Gewin's cock, you are a woman, Faoril. More woman than many orc females I know.”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Now give me my cum.”

  Dogs howled in the distance.

  I slammed my dick deep into her. My balls smacked her body. They boiled. I growled as the pleasure burst from my dick. My cock unloaded into her ass. Every blast of my cum sent the fierce pleasure whipping through my body. I shuddered and growled, the dogs baying with me.

  “My woman,” I howled into the night.

  “Yes,” Faoril panted, her ass clenching and relaxing on my cock, trying to draw out the last drops of the cum she hungered for.

  The dogs' howls grew even louder.

  Chapter Forty-One: Angela's Lover

  Knight-Errant Angela

  My body was on fire and my eyelids were so heavy. As much as I wanted to watch Sophia dance, the droning, soothing song of the minstrel only made me yawn. I tried to keep focusing on how beautiful my Sophia was on stage, her pale body pressed into the ebony dancer's.


  But I was too tired. I needed sleep. Our traveling was catching up to me. Even with Gewin's blessing girding my body, I had my limits. Which was a shame because the dancing was so erotic. I wished I had the strength to push aside my chainmail loincloth and finger my wet pussy.

  With a groan, I rose from the table. I was all alone. Xera, Thrak, and Faoril had slipped off, their lusts inflamed by Sophia's dancing. So were mine, but I was the only one tired.

  I hoped I wasn't coming down with an ailment. Had I inhaled any foul vapors? Or had Illth's cock spewed disease on me? I shuddered, hoping I hadn't attracted the hermaphroditic goddess's poxy gaze. I already had one goddess trying to kill me.

  I stepped into the side corridor. Xera was stretched out on the hallway floor, a serving girl on top of her, the pair sixty-nining and moaning in delight, writhing, heedless of anyone stumbling upon their lovemaking.

  My lusts surged through me and I groaned as my head swam. The droning music from the common room was too soothing. I couldn't fight against it. I yawned and trudged up the stairs, my boots thudding with every heavy step.

  I reached the room I shared with Sophia. We rented three rooms: Thrak and Faoril had the second, and Xera had the third. I opened the door, glancing at my sword and kite shield leaning against a pile of saddlebags and bedrolls. I groaned as I closed the door behind me. The music drifted through the floor.

  I yawned again as the music stopped. My eyes fluttered closed. I had never been so tired and so horny all at the same time. I unbuckled my pauldrons and slipped them off, then undid the straps holding on my half-breastplate and backplate, freeing my large breasts.

  The music had stopped and the hot itch between my thighs spread upward. My back straightened as I set my armor carefully down. I stretched, my chainmail loincloth jiggling between my thighs. Sophia was down there, undulating on the dancer, having fun.

  Why was I up here?

  My fatigue rapidly washed away. My hands slid up and pinched my nipples. I should have fun. I could join Sophia and the dancer on the table. There was room. My pussy clenched at the thought of dancing with the graceful pair, making all the men in the room hard.

  Maybe I could enjoy a few men while Sophia and the dancer entertained each other tonight.

  A knock rapped my door. I shuddered. I was so horny. Whoever was on the other side of the door would be in for a wild night. I didn't care who they were. I just had to fuck someone. Anyone. Preferably with a hard cock.

  “Yes,” I purred, marching topless to the door.

  ~ * ~

  Chaun

  I let my music die. The acolyte Sophia still danced with Jathibiyya on stage, the pair grinding their pussies on the other's thighs. They didn't need my music any longer. They were gripped by their passion for each other.

  I carefully put my lyre into its wooden case. It was made of polished wood, dyed as red as my lyre, and inlaid with matching gold that made a pattern of swirls around the edge. It was given to me with my lyre when I graduated from the Bardic College of Az. The case had a cunning latch hidden in the middle that clicked when I closed it. I picked up the case and moved with rapid steps across the common room. The crowd were already entranced by the dancing on the table, no longer needing my music to be entertained.

  It was time to seduce Angela and win her confidence. I had to. I made a deal with Lady Delilah.

  I slipped into my room, carefully setting the case on my bed. And then I changed. When I stared at Angela, a man rose in my thoughts. I was a changeling. I could look at a woman and know her husband's or lover's shape. My race could only impregnate a married woman, and only when we assumed her husband's form.

  But I also could assume a lover's form. I wouldn't impregnate Angela even if she wasn't warded by a mage's contraceptive magic—another thing my race could sense. I stared into the mirror as my face changed; it grew stronger, still handsome, but now dashing like a hero out of a quest, with flowing, dark-brown hair and dark eyes. My body swelled, stretching out the clothing I wore. Her lover, Kevin, was far more muscular than my current form.

  His hands were calloused. Not from labor, but holding a sword, and there were more callouses on his body, places where armor had rubbed his skin rough. A knight, like Angela. I quickly stripped and found a change of clothing more suitable from my troubadour trunk—leather pants, a loose shirt, and boots. I closed the trunk. It was small, too small to hold so much clothing, but a Tuathan soulborn witch I had seduced, had gifted it to me.

  She had such burning-red hair.

  Dressed, I strolled out of my room and into the service hallway. I passed the elf and a serving girl in a passionate sixty-nine before heading upstairs. I reached Angela's door. She was in there, coming out of her drowse but still incredibly horny from my song. She would be eager to fuck anyone.

  But most especially the man she loved.

  I knocked boldly on the door the way Kevin would.

  ~ * ~

  Knight-Errant Angela

  I opened the door and blinked in surprise. “Kevin?”

  “Angela,” he said, right before boldly seizing me and kissing me on the lips.

  I stood frozen, his mouth working against mine. I was so horny, eager to fuck any person, and yet Kevin's lips did nothing for me. I barely remembered Kevin. I knew he was a knight. I remembered him from a few times during my early training. And then there were the holes in my memory stolen by the oracle.

  According to Sophia, I had loved this man.

  Not any longer.

  I pushed him away and stepped back. “What are you doing here?”

  “I'm here to help you on your quest,” Kevin declared. He was handsome, with dashing eyes and flowing hair. He wore a shirt that clung to his muscular body and tight, leather pants. He would make any maiden swoon.

  I could understand why I was attracted to him in the past.

  But not now. Even as horny as I was, I might as well have kissed my aged grandmother.

  “Help?” I frowned. He wasn't mentioned in the prophecy so why was he here? “You came from Shesax to help me?”

  “Yes,” he grinned, stepping into the room and seizing my shoulders. “How I missed you. I should have come with you.”

  “Why would you? I'm on a Quest.”

  “I said terrible things to you,” he continued, his eyes filled with such passion.

  It was wasted on me.

  “Uh-huh.” I shrugged my shoulders out of his grip and stepped back. “I guess that's why I gave you up.”

  “What?” Confusion flashed around Kevin's face.

  “I don't love you anymore,” I answered. “I've moved on. I have a girlfriend now. My acolyte. Sophia loves me, and I'm very fond of her.”

  “But...you have to love me.” His eyebrows furrowed.

  “Have to?”

  “Yes. I'm the man you love. You should be dripping wet and eager to bed me.” He stepped forward, and I frowned.

  Where was his armor? His sword? Why would Kevin travel all this way to help me and come dressed like a man out to carouse at the tavern?

  “Are you...really Kevin?” I swallowed, moving back to my sword, my heart thudding.

  “Who else would I be?” Kevin scoffed. “Don't you remember all the times we lay in bed? The promises we made of marriage when we finished our Quests? Or the times we would duel on the training grounds and the winner would dominate the loser?”

  Dominate... I did have a fondness for dominating Sophia, and when I defeated Injuriae the Erinyes two weeks back, I had an overwhelming urge to make her submit. Could it have come from those missing parts of my life?

  “No, I don't love you.”

  “You have to,” he insisted, growing even more baffled. “I saw it in...”

  “Saw what?” I seized my sword.

  Kevin flinched. Not like a warrior readying himself for battle, but like an untrained man suddenly confronted by violence. Kevin stumbled back, letting out a panicked yelp that any Knight Deute would be ashamed to make.r />
  I didn't remember Kevin well, but I wouldn't have loved a weak knight.

  I aimed my sword at him and demanded, “What are you?”

  “Sorry, I don't mean you any harm,” Kevin said. “I'm a changeling.”

  His body suddenly changed, his flesh flowing like wax. He grew taller and slimmer. The chiseled lines of his face muted and grew soft, turning into something almost beautiful. His ears grew long and pointed like Xera's as his skin darkened. He grew black. Not the dark, deep brown of a Halanian, but the true black of midnight. His hair became silvery and luxurious, shining about his ears.

  The lust rushed back. The urge to fuck the next man or woman seized me. I let out a moan. The changeling was gorgeous, even beautiful. His clothing hung loose on him, his trousers slipping off revealing a thick, ebony cock that made my pussy clench.

  “Sorry,” the changeling said. “I'm the minstrel, Chaun. I saw you in the crowd and Kevin's image rose in my mind. It's what we do. Seduce women while looking like their husbands or lovers. I only wanted to give you a night of passion. I don't understand why you don't care for this Kevin. You should. You love him.”

  Angela groaned, her grip weakening on the sword. “A night of passion is what I was interested in. But not with Kevin. I...I gave up my love for him. I don't remember him.” My smile grew wanton. “But I'll remember you. What a cock you have.”

  A cocky, bold grin spread on his dark lips. He opened his mouth to say something when the dogs bayed loudly outside. I frowned, the howls cutting through my lust. There was something about the howls. Something...bloodthirsty.

  “Those aren't dogs,” Chaun said, cocking his head. “The howls aren't quite right. The pitch and the way their larynx vibrate. Not wolves either. There's a bit of human in the baying. Monsters.”

  I spun and grabbed my kite shield.

  Chapter Forty-Two: Howls

  Faoril

  “What are those dogs?” I frowned as Thrak pulled his cock out of my ass.