The Mage's Passion

by Reed James

  “We're not playing right now, Angela,” Sophia said. Her brown hair dragged across the ground as she spun and her pale face had gone red. She spun around, and her shaved pussy was right before my lips.

  “But I can just lean forward and lick you. And I bet you can nuzzle at my pussy, too.”

  “Angela,” complained Sophia. “This really isn't funny. All the blood's rushed to my head. And my foot hurts.”

  I peered up. A thin wire was wrapped about her leg. It was also made of crystal. It glinted in the light of Sophia's pink ball. I knew Dwarves were the masters working in stone and metal, but I had no idea they could create such a marvel. How could crystal be flexible? I furrowed my eyes. Was it made of little segments? I stood on my tiptoes.

  “Wow,” I breathed. It was made of little segments as wide as my pinky finger. They were somehow attached together and could bend at the joints. “Clever.”

  “Please, Sophia.”

  “Okay.” I drew my sword. “Brace yourself.” I swung my sword above her foot.

  The crystals shattered. With a yelp, Sophia fell to the stone floor. Then she grunted and rolled onto her back. She stared up at me, her face contorted in pain.

  “That hurt.”

  “How else was I supposed to get you down?” I asked her. I knelt down. “Do you want me to kiss it better?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “But not down here. It's creepy down here.”

  “Angela, Sophia,” Xera's voice called from above.

  “We're down here.”

  “Don't move!” The elf's voice echoed. “The place is dotted with traps.”

  “We know,” groaned Sophia.

  Chapter Fifty: Darkness

  Chaun

  “So that's it?” I asked, peering into the dark tunnel.

  “Yes,” Xera nodded. “Smell it?”

  “No,” Sophia answered.

  I shook my head. After the discovery of the traps, Xera had explored the basement alone until she found the path that led down into the tunnels. Now we had all gathered. Two globes of floating, golden light orbited us, summoned by Faoril's magic.

  “I smell water and minerals,” she answered. “The stones are different from what the fortress was built from and the walls have been chiseled and not constructed out of blocks.” Xera pointed in that direction. “This tunnel also runs to where the dwarves covered the main entrance.”

  “So that's the beginning of the Kingdom of Modan,” Sophia said. She shivered. “I really hope we don't run across what destroyed them.”

  “Agreed,” Angela said.

  Thrak uncoiled a hemp rope. “There are no more traps in this room, Xera?”

  “None.”

  Thrak tied the rope to a stone pillar, uncoiled it to the hole, and threw it down. He went first, sliding down the hemp, and landed in the tunnel below. Xera followed, hugging the rope with her naked body.

  It was an impressive sight. I smiled, my cock hard. The elf was an exciting woman. It was so strange how my powers did not work on her. There was no man whose form I could assume that she cared for in any way. Even the lesbian couldn't say that. Sophia had, as a young girl, a crush on a stable boy.

  I grasped the rope and made sure the case holding my lyre was properly secured, then slid down into the darkness. Excitement built in me. I would compose an epic song. A knight and her questing party venturing into the Fallen Kingdom of Modan to face unknown terror cloaked by darkness.

  Every bard craved such a tale to sing.

  The dangers and risks of my assignment were worth it.

  Angela, Sophia, and Faoril came down last. Sophia unfurled her map before we headed into the darkness. The tunnels were wide and even Thrak could walk straight-back, though his head did come close to brushing the ceiling. The tunnel walls were smooth. I could see none of the tool marks Xera did. I ran my hands along them, admiring the skill it must have took to chisel out this tunnel.

  The tunnel slopped down but ran straight for a while. Smaller tunnels branched off of it, but we didn't take the detours. My legs grew sore and my feet ached. I was used to traveling by horseback. Sophia and Faoril also showed signs of fatigue.

  So I pulled out my lyre and sang a song. It was a marching song, designed to lighten steps and reduce the weary rigor of travel. My fingers strummed across the strings as I sang. My music echoed through the tunnels.

  “Is that really wise?” Thrak rumbled from the front.

  I froze before I finished the first verse. “What?”

  “You will attract notice,” the orc rumbled.

  “Oh, er, yes,” I flushed. “My apologies. I just wanted to ease our burdens. Some of our party are not used to walking.”

  “Sure,” Sophia said flatly. Her arms were folded across her chest.

  I gave the lesbian my most winsome smile. It did little to wipe away her hostility. She did not like me. I suspected jealousy. Angela was her lover, but Angela enjoyed cock almost as much as she enjoyed tying Sophia up and playing with her pussy.

  “But Thrak, you are most right, I was not thinking.” I sighed as I put my lyre away. My feet really ached.

  “We have another hour before nightfall,” Xera called. “Let us keep walking.”

  “How can you tell?” I asked.

  “I can feel the rhythm of the world even down here.”

  I grit my teeth as I took another step. The pain was worth it. I would complete Lady Delilah's mission, compose an epic song, and have my title of master bard restored to me. I would find a privileged place at court and have an endless parade of highborn ladies to seduce wearing their husband's faces.

  I might even reconnect with my sweet Adelaide. I pictured my princess's strawberry-blonde hair and piercing-blue eyes. And those lush breasts. So big and round. Like Xera's. I marched in the darkness, eager for camp and the elf's body. I could close my eyes and imagine I was with Adelaide for a few moments.

  ~ * ~

  Thrak – The Tunnels, Fallen Kingdom of Modan

  The tunnels remained unchanged on our fourth day of travel through them. There were many branches, some as wide as the one we traveled through. We kept having to consult the map Faoril bought in Esh-Esh to navigate and stay on the right path. The tunnel spiraled us deeper and deeper underground. I could feel the stone lurking above my head, threatening to crush down on us. My shoulders squirmed, but I ignored it. We had a mission to accomplish and my fears would do little to help.

  But I missed the openness. I had grown up on the northern tundras, on endless plains of sere grass and rolling hills. I could see vast distances, and not just the dozens of feet Faoril's balls of light allowed me to see.

  As we neared our midday break, Xera strode up to me. “There are noises ahead. Movement. Footsteps, the bang of hammers. It sounds like a village.”

  “Smells?”

  “I pick up something. Not human or orc. A different smell.”

  “Foul? Could it be goblins?”

  “I have never smelled goblins before,” she answered. “I do not know what is ahead.”

  “Then we should move with caution.”

  Xera passed the word. We crept forward. Every time we passed a side-tunnel, I heard the tink of hammers. Sometimes, I would catch a ruddy glow. The tunnels were not empty of life as we expected.

  We did not stop for our midday break. Angela agreed to hurry us through in case we were walking through a threat. Everyone moved as quietly as possible. Faoril snuffed out one of her lights and dimmed the other. She kept it in the middle of the group, lighting our steps and little else. Xera took the lead with her keen eyes.

  When she froze, I drew my ax.

  A harsh voice boomed out of the darkness in a language I had never heard. Booted footsteps approached. Faoril flared her light while I grit my teeth and prepared to face the threat. The steps grew closer, coming from one of the side tunnels.

  Figures stepped out. They were dwarves.

  ~ * ~

  Faoril – Shevan, The Fallen Kingd
om of Modan

  The dwarven kingdom was not as fallen as we had believed. Short, stocky, bearded men wearing plate armor made with such skill it did not rattle as they moved. They held wicked halberds with sharp ax-blades on the end of stone hafts.

  Luckily, one of them spoke human with a gutteral accent, demanding to know why we had ventured into their territory. When Angela told them our purpose to retrieve adamantium, the dwarves had grown quite agitated and insisted we go before the Kings of Barzidi.

  From what I knew of dwarven custom, Barzidi would be their queen and ruler, though her seven husbands would handle most of the administrative decisions. Seven husbands. I glanced at the dwarves. They were shorter than me, and almost as wide as my Thrak. And though they had those long beards, they had to be powerfully muscled to stomp around in all that armor.

  I pictured myself surrounded by seven dwarves with hard cocks aching to fuck me. How wicked would it be to have more than one lover? Dwarven women had the right idea. It was, of course, a natural result of their skewed birthrates. For every seven males born there would be a single female.

  When we entered their city, Shevan, there was not a single female dwarf to be seen. Plenty of men wearing leather vests and pants, leaving barrel-chests bare. They were all strong and had the look of laborers. My pussy itched beneath my robes. Even their beards seemed sexy as I gazed at those sculpted pecs and abs, and those thick arms.

  How big were their cocks? I wanted to find out.

  The dwarves watched us pass through their city in silence. They paused in their labors, whether working at forges that seemed heated by liquid magma itself, or shaping stone with tools, or even tending to strange, cow-like creatures that munched on fields of blue-glowing lichen. Every male dwarf worked. No one was idle. Not even their children. Young male dwarves assisted.

  Their city was constructed in a natural cavern, filling up all the space with buildings that reached to the ceiling high overhead. Light glowed blue from strange lamps. It wasn't magic. They had found a natural way to produce phosphorescence. It was clear they needed no help from the surface to survive in the depths.

  The soldiers escorted us to a building that appeared a little larger than the rest. It was just as grand and ornate. The dwarves covered their buildings in carved reliefs depicting past triumphs. Everywhere you looked was a new work of art adorning something as mundane as a smithy. The dwarves took pride in everything they did.

  We marched up the steps to the new building and through a pair of tall columns shaped like dwarven warriors with hammers raised high to hold the ceiling aloft. Inside the building, the floors were covered in an intricate pattern of colored tiles that led to a throne at the far end.

  A woman sat on the throne.

  Seven male dwarves, their arms folded across their chests, stood around the base of the throne, screening us from Queen Barzidi. She sat naked save for countless golden necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings, and belly chains. Though she had the same stature as the dwarves, she was not stout. She was slim and beautiful, her breasts as large as Angela's. The mounds rose and fell as she breathed, her necklaces slipping around to reveal a pair of pink nipples. Her hair was fiery-red and adorned with a gold net twinkling with emeralds.

  The warriors proclaimed something in dwarven, then they retreated, leaving us before the Queen of the Dwarves. The Queen's eyes flashed across us. They seemed to linger on Thrak. She straightened in her throne and said something in dwarven.

  One of her seven husbands stepped forward. He had a black beard and hair. He kept his arms folded before him. Chainmail armor adorned him, no doubt more comfortable to wear than the full plate of the guards. At his side hung a sharp ax from his belt. All her husbands were similarly armed. Each looked prepared to fight to protect their wife.

  “Why have you tread our tunnels?” he asked.

  “We need adamantium,” Angela said. “I am Angela of the Knights Deute on a Quest. I need adamantium to accomplish it.”

  “Then you have wasted your time,” the dwarf barked. “There is no adamantium to be had. The mines are closed.”

  “We understand the risks and are prepared to brave them.”

  The dwarf snorted. “What risks can you possibly understand? Do you know what lurks beneath our feet? No. How could you? It is cursed down there.”

  “Still,” Angela insisted. “I have a skilled and capable party. I have a mage and a priestess.”

  “We have priests,” sneered the dwarf. “Krab's mighty blessings and crafts were no match against the horror.”

  “Does the horror even still exist down there?” Sophia asked. “It's been centuries. Do you ever venture into the mines?”

  “They are forbidden to all. Only those with the Queen's blessing may enter. And she will not give it.”

  “Why doesn't the queen tell us that?” Thrak asked.

  Chapter Fifty-One: The Dwarf-Queen's Hot Demands

  Thrak

  The dwarf glared at me. His black beard bristled. “I am Azken, her first husband. I speak in her name.”

  My eyes glanced at the queen on her throne. She had a sultry smile as she stared at me. Her legs parted. She threw them over the arms of her chair. Her pussy lips glistened with golden piercings. She rubbed at her pussy and let out a cooing moan.

  Azken glanced over his shoulder at his masturbating wife and shook his head. He glared at me. “You are not welcomed, outsiders. You have wasted your time. You shall not be permitted entrance.”

  The dwarf queen moaned again. She licked her lips. Her breasts jiggled beneath her jewelry as her body undulated. Both her hands caressed her pussy. Her dainty toes, adorned with jeweled rings, curled as she let out a shuddering moan.

  My dick grew hard. Sophia let out a purring moan. Queen Barzidi may be half my size, but she was sultry and curvy. Her fingers made a wet noise as they plunged into her dripping pussy. Her juices glinted in the white lamps that illuminated her.

  Azken said something in Dwarvish to the queen.

  “No, I will not stop,” she answered in human, her voice musical. It lacked the rough gravel of a male dwarf. “Not when such a handsome man stands before me. Mmm, look at him, Azken. So big.”

  Her dwarven husbands shifted. I swallowed. Would the masturbating queen cause her husbands to lash out with jealous violence? I did not know the sexual mores of the dwarves other than their women had infamous appetites. How else could they keep seven men satiated?

  Her fingers pumped faster. Her moans echoed through the throne room. My dick ached. Sophia squirmed her hips as she watched the sexy dwarf-queen masturbate. Barzidi brought her left hand to her breasts and pinched her nipple, pulling on the nub.

  “Do you think you'd crush her?” Faoril said, her voice low. “She's so tiny.”

  “Maybe,” I answered.

  Faoril patted my cock tenting the front of my kilt.

  “Krab's skilled cock,” gasped Barzidi. “He's so big. Show me your cock, mighty warrior. Let me see it.”

  I glanced at her husband. His face was hard.

  “Oh, please, show it to me,” gasped the Queen. “I need to see it. Are you huge? Please, let it be huge. I need something big to fill my cunt.”

  “If I show it to you, will you let my companions and I venture into the mines?”

  “No,” she moaned. “But I'll consider it.”

  “Barzidi,” Azken shouted then rumbled in dwarven.

  She moaned back, then turned to me. “Yes, yes, show me your cock. Mmm, you are an orc, yes? With that swarthy skin. Ooh, no dwarf has ever fucked an orc.”

  Faoril hauled up my kilt. “It is huge, your Majesty,” she smiled. She grasped my hard cock, stroking it with her hands. “I can vouch for it.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” gasped Barzidi. She undulated on her throne. Her fingers dug deep into her wet pussy. “Such a huge cock.”

  “It will feel so good sliding through your pussy,” moaned Faoril.

  Pleasure shuddered through me as Faoril's h
and reached the tip of my cock. She rubbed the crown. I shuddered as the sensations rippled down my cock and spread through my body.

  “You're his wife?” gasped the Queen. “Will you share his cock with me? Will you let me feel it in me? I need it.”

  “Will you let us into the mines?”

  “If he satiates me,” gasped the dwarf queen. Her eyes squeezed shut. Juices squirted from her pussy as her orgasm crashed through her. “Yes, yes, yes. I will let you through. Oh, yes. I need that cock in me.”

  She heaved a final time as her orgasm reached its peak. Then she sighed and smiled. She pulled her fingers from her pussy and licked them clean one by one, her jewels flashing in the light. Then she descended from the throne, her hips curving. She pressed through her husbands and stood before me. Her small hand grasped my cock. She only came up to my waist.

  She leaned in and sucked the tip, her tongue playing with my piercing.

  “I can't even fit it in my mouth,” she cooed in delight. “Come, mighty orc, my bed awaits.”

  “Have fun,” Faoril winked.

  “Wow,” Sophia whispered. “No wonder we didn't see any of their women. They would have swarmed Thrak. I bet they're all in their houses masturbating. I've never seen a woman so horny before.”

  “And only I get to fuck you,” sighed the Queen. “Ooh, every woman in the kingdom will know their Queen fucked an orc. They will all love me and envy me.” Her hand tightened on my cock as she led me to a door behind the throne.

  ~ * ~

  Knight-Errant Angela

  “Wow,” Sophia groaned again. “Can you smell her juices? That was so hot.”

  “When we camp tonight, I'll make you feel good,” I promised her even as I watched her shift her thighs. I knew she was masturbating herself. She could cum without using her fingers to play with her pussy.

  Lucky her. My cunt was on fire beneath my armor.

  Thrak vanished into the doorway. Chaun, looking crestfallen he wasn't chosen to be the queen's lover, sat gracefully on the floor and rubbed at his feet through his boots. Sophia shuddered beside me, her eyes squeezed shut, her smile growing.