Cantrips: Volume #2: Minor Magics Crafted to Amuse and Entertain

by Joey W. Hill

  Their hands on her were implacable, terrifyingly confident and smooth, no hesitation, no way to let her back out. It was still like being pushed toward a plane’s open door. The chute was on her back, and she was going, but in the end, it was still a leap out into the sky, away from the safety of the plane.

  “I love you, Sergeant,” Peter murmured against her ear.

  Everything came to a halt, everything getting still as he paused for that long moment, holding her head against his shoulder, letting her feel the pounding of their hearts together, chest to chest. “You scared the shit out of me. I’m never going to stop protecting you. Taking care of you. Loving you.”

  Tears squeezed out her eyes as she heard the rough truth of it in his voice. “I know. I don’t want you to. Knowing that is what makes me so brave. So really…it’s all your fault.”

  Ben’s low chuckle vibrated against her rim. “She’s incorrigible. I guess the only thing that’s going to make her an obedient slave is fucking her brainless.”

  Please God, yes. And please let me survive until the end. Even though I don’t think I ever want it to end.

  As Ben withdrew, she thought she detected clothes falling to the floor, the creak of the mattress. When Peter moved forward, put his knee on the bed, her foot brushed a bare thigh that wasn’t his. That, and the audible clues, the movement of air in the bedroom, gave her a delectable visual of the fate that awaited her. Ben was lying on the bed now, his knees off the end of it, feet on the floor. His thighs would be spread, his feet planted wide so Peter had room to stand inside their span.

  Now her husband lowered her, tender as laying a baby down in her crib, only he was easing her into Ben’s embrace. And the man was at last fully naked, God bless America.

  Peter was heavy muscle, a soldier through and through. In contrast, Ben had his own muscular hardness, the kind she expected those cable channel street fighters had. But that hardness was a momentary distraction from a far more invasive hardness. As Peter held her upper body still suspended, encouraging her to keep clinging to his shoulders, Ben clasped her hips and guided himself back into her ass. “Push out, baby girl.” He muttered the reminder. “You’re still hot, slick and tight as heaven. Fuck. There you are.”

  She pushed for all she was worth, ready for the agonizing, burning discomfort this time, embracing it, breathing through it, pressing her face into Peter’s neck, feeling the tautness of his shoulders under her hands. She sighed against him, long and deep, as he pushed his cock into her pussy, only part way again. Her pussy sucked on him like a vacuum, wanting him deeper. Two powerful males taking her like this… When her buttocks pressed against Ben’s hard body, the nerve endings registered how her ass was still throbbing from the quirt. It merely turned her on more.

  Peter cupped her head protectively, his other hand supporting her back to hold her at the right angle. “Squeeze down on me, girl. Give me that tight glove I love so much.”

  She did, and drew in a breath as Ben began to go deeper. “He’s…”

  “Yeah, he’s a horse. You can take him again. I know you can. The pain’s part of it for you.”

  Ben did it easy and gradual, even more so than last time, coming into her on a slow tide of movement. Peter lifted and lowered her body with firm hands, moving her up and down on his own cock in slow, slick glides. Ben came in a little further on each downward stroke, the men moving together like a well-oiled machine. All of Peter’s wonderful muscles flexed against her body, while Ben’s hands were firm and strong on her hips, his thighs pressing the backs of hers.

  Fuck. She was a small woman. Tough, yes, but certain parts of her weren’t as tough as others. She wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to do it this time, take all of him. Then Ben’s lips nuzzled between her shoulder blades, teasing the tattoo that was there. Athena. The warrior goddess. Nothing they did was random, and his touch on the ink centered her, helped her bear down, mindful of her service to her Master, to both Masters. Peter’s fingers were there, stroking over the same area. Ben stilled as Peter pushed in all the way to the balls, and her ass contracted in reaction. She cried out in animal pain and pleasure as he slid down even further. Oh, God, it wasn’t possible that she could be this full of cock and not die.

  “There we go. Fuck, she’s a pleasure all the way to the root. Twice in one night. Most women couldn’t do that.” Ben squeezed and kneaded, lifting her buttocks, massaging her around his cock in a way that sent pleasurable sensation rocketing through her lower body, like a powerful climax, only different. Peter withdrew an inch and drove in, the impact of his cock teasing her clit. She hitched over a sob. “Master…”

  “Absolutely. You’re heaven, sweetheart. How does it feel, having us both all the way in like this?”

  “He’s all the way in?” Hope and panic warred in her voice.

  Ben gave a laugh, a sound she was pleased was a little strained. “Damn well near, girl. Not many can take all of me. Not the first evening like this. You ready to surrender it all to us?”

  “I want to feel you both come inside of me. Please.”

  “You going to hold out, let us take you for a rough ride first?”

  “Anything you want. Whatever my Master and you want.” She practically begged for it.

  “All right, then.” She could sense the silent communication between the men. It was like battle, that synergy, everyone so in sync that it created a volatile type of sorcerer’s spell, full of darkness and fire, a sense of another dimension or plane of existence, where horrible and wonderful things could happen.

  They both pushed in deep, two sets of male hands gripping her. She cried out, long and desperate, and kept making sounds of lust and pain. It felt like Ben was ramming into her, working her on his cock with a Master’s pure dark pleasure, as Peter did the same with her cunt, thrusting deep, pulling out long. It was as if she was the anchor point of a glorious machine sparking with energy on every rotation of the pistons. In, out, in, out, deep thrust, long pullout, her ass on fire, stretched so wide, drilled so deep, her pussy full of her Master as he rotated those fine hips of his and speared her with his cock, making her feel every movement of it inside her, against her slick tissues.

  She was calling on God again, mouth open wide and screaming. She’d gripped Peter’s shoulders once more, and her teeth snapped down on the right one, the reaction of a seizure victim when it became too much. Because of her exhaustion, or their damnable skill as master torturers, they were holding the climax beyond her reach. With this much sensation, she should have been crashing over, but instead she was wavering on that pinnacle like a buoy on a stormy sea, them holding her there like two fierce weather gods, dueling to see who could keep her rocking the longest before they tipped her over, tore her from her anchor line.

  “Beg, baby girl. Beg your Master.” Ben’s voice had that fierce, implacable sound, and she was helpless to do anything but obey.

  “Please, Master….please come for me. Both of you…want to please you…want to be yours in all ways…want you to own me, fuck me…fucking own me…my cunt, my climax…all of it…”

  “I do, girl. I do.” Peter’s hoarse voice nearly undid her, and the tears came anew. It was too intense, too crazy. “Please…”

  They started to come and, as they did, they changed angle, or thrust, or some other devil-be-damned thing, because suddenly that climax wasn’t out of reach. It was here, and it came down on her like a freaking building implosion.

  It started in her ass of all things, and deep in her cunt, swirling out in the tingle behind her nipples, that feeling that Peter had left there. All the sensations spread out and, when they touched, it was like three different sets of live electrical wire. It set her on fire. She was screeching like she was being killed, but it was the best kind of dying ever. She was bucking on them, against them, and they were ramming into her, talking rough and dirty to her, telling her she was their slave, their slave to fuck however, whenever. She was loving it, dying from it, screaming f
rom it…

  It was the most amazing orgasm she’d ever experienced, that anyone had ever lived to tell about… At least she hoped she’d live through it, because she was headed for that dark vortex again at full speed. Though she tried her best to hold on with her fingernails, scarring Peter’s strong shoulders, she lost the fight.

  But that was the point wasn’t it? She fully surrendered to them both, and was lost in the blissful death they’d given her.

  * * *

  She woke to find she was still clinging to Peter’s strong shoulders, but they’d changed position. He was lying fully on the bed, her sprawled halfway across him, her thigh over his. Ben was massaging oil into her shoulders, moving down her back, over her buttocks. When he slipped between them, putting something cool and soothing on all the abraded tissues, she whimpered and trembled, but it was okay. He was as gentle now as he’d been brutal before. Peter stroked his fingers through the oil, teasing her nape, the sensitive area between her shoulder blades.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Sssh,” Ben admonished her quietly. “I told you not to tell me that where Peter can hear you. It makes him insecure.”

  She wanted to smile, but even her face was exhausted. “Ass,” she mumbled.

  “You have a very fine one, girl. Don’t tempt me to give it another workout.” Ben worked his fingers in her cunt and ass, and she let out a little mewl. “There you go. Let that stay in for a little while. It will make everything feel better, so your Master can take you again tonight. He’s already hard for you, the fucking beast.”

  Holy Mother of God, he was. When she shifted her thigh, bringing her knee up higher, Peter’s cock was stiff against his belly. He made a quelling noise, though. “Be still. It’ll wait. I just keep thinking about the way you looked, and felt, and all I want is to fuck you again. You’re a treasure, girl.”

  “Yours. All yours.”

  “You bet that sweet ass.” As his large hand passed gently over it, Ben withdrew, because she heard him cross the room, go into the bathroom.

  “Thank you, Captain.” She closed her eyes but, daring another punishment, she found enough energy to shift her body further on top of him. She knew his body well enough she was able to lodge that broad head in the opening of her pussy, and sighed in pleasure. His fingers tightened on her.

  “I said no, sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “You won’t. I need you. I know… I know you need to be there, so you know you’re the one, the only.”

  His touch on her back stilled. His palm was flat on Athena, fingertips brushing the other tattoo, the one of the Lord’s Hands in prayer, wrapped in dog tags. “I’m that transparent, am I?”

  “You’re a big male animal. It’s what you all do.” She smiled against his chest, emitting a soft noise as he slowly eased her down with minimal discomfort, so he was all the way back in. However, when he pulled the light sheet up over them both, she knew he was going to be content to lie there like that, no actual fucking, just cunt and cock joined, heart to heart, soul to soul.

  She might have dozed a little, because when she became aware again, she had a sense they were alone.

  “Did Ben go?”

  “Yeah, he headed out. Left a kiss on your ass, over the sheet.”

  “I wanted…I should thank him.”

  “You did. Trust me.” Peter’s arm tightened on her. She heard that growl in his voice that she loved, reasserting his claim.

  “Thank you, then. For the best punishment ever.” She smiled against his chest as he groaned.

  “I guess that means I’ll have to come up with something even more severe next time.”

  “My heart won’t take it.”

  “Neither will mine.” He squeezed her. “Sleep for now, Sergeant. You can turn my hair gray another day. For now, just be my sweet slave and hold me while you dream.”

  “Forever and always, Captain.”

  The End

  You’re All Invited…

  A vignette featuring Lyssa and Jacob and friends, characters from the Vampire Queen Series.

  Originally posted 12/22/2012

  This vignette featured Jacob and Lyssa, who kicked off the series in Book I, Vampire Queen’s Servant, and many of their friends, who have appeared in subsequent books of the series. There was also a special guest appearance by Dante and Alexis, characters from the Daughters of Arianne Series. A Mermaid’s Ransom is their book (Book III of the Daughters of Arianne Series).

  Background: in 2011, I did a brief vignette about Jacob and Lyssa going to the mall at Christmastime. It was so well received, I decided to return to Lyssa’s Atlanta home the following year and bring you all with me, to share their very special Christmas party with family and friends…

  * * *

  Gideon studied the eight-foot fir tree that towered up to the vaulted ceiling of the sunken living room. Besides being wrapped in what he was sure was well over a thousand lights, it had been decorated with ribbon, popcorn strings, and numerous ornaments that had been collected by Lyssa over the past several hundred years. The older and more delicate ones were toward the top, whereas the lower branches had disproportionately thick clusters of more expendable wooden ornaments and balls, suggesting that was where Kane had focused his decorating efforts. Whiskers was in the process of batting at one of the balls, studying her reflection in the glossy crimson surface. A few moments ago, Bran had slunk off, threatened by Ingram with bodily harm if he or any of his canine siblings tried to eat the popcorn strands—again.

  The mantel glowed with candlelight set amid fresh garlands. All three of the entranceways to the room were likewise framed with lit greenery. The back wall displayed a cloth mural, reindeer bounding in a snowy field, snowflakes dancing across the dark blue sky above them. The air smelled of forest, cinnamon and sugar cookies, compliments of the fir tree, the red candles and Ingram’s efforts in the kitchen, respectively. Piano instrumentals of Christmas carol favorites filtered from the discreetly disguised speaker system.

  In short, the room was a holiday paradise. The outside of the house was festooned with a million more lights, and there was a life-sized nativity scene planted in the front yard. A full complement of glowing wire angels were hark-the-heralding in the air above them. Luminaries lined the quarter mile driveway. He’d helped Jacob and Ingram light all 526 of them just before nightfall. That would teach him to get here a day early.

  When Jacob appeared at his elbow, Gideon glanced at him wryly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because you obviously worked your ass off on all this, but it’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone.” He dropped his tone, offering a decent Rod Serling imitation. “We find ourselves in the midst of a peculiar amalgamation, where poignant Hallmark movie meets the Addams Family Christmas special. Very special guest stars Hannibal Lectre and Jeffrey Dahmer will demonstrate the proper way to marinate a turkey.”

  “It could be worse. It could be the Manson Family Christmas.”

  “Oh, you mean the Council Christmas party you had here last week? I was so disappointed to miss that one. Not.”

  Jacob grinned. “Tim Burton and Stephen King could have written the screenplay together. Lady Helga insisted all the servants band together and sing Christmas carols for the Council’s entertainment. Naked. Lord Stewart’s servant plays the piano, so there we were in the atrium, doing rounds of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ and ‘Jingle Bells.’ Belizar was acting like the grumpy uncle who’s always invited to the holiday festivities, though he’s a killjoy. But he cracked a smile a time or two.”

  “Isn’t it enough they demand unnatural sex acts with their meals? Singing Christmas carols is cruel and unusual punishment.”

  “Lady Carola’s servant has an excellent baritone. Mariela, Lord Uthe’s servant, is completely tone deaf, but she goes at it with charming enthusiasm.”

  “She’s a hot blond Amazon with a face like Grace Kelly.” Gideon snorted. “She could bray like a mule and no one with testicl
es would complain. Except maybe Lyssa.”

  “Careful.” Jacob shot him a warning look. “After that, they rated the best kiss under the mistletoe. Servants-only participating, of course.”

  Gideon turned a narrow eye on him. “If you tell me you got to kiss Mariela, I’ll have to regret not being invited.” When he winced, Jacob gave him a sympathetic look.

  “How long is it going to take you to remember Anwyn can hear all your thoughts?”

  “Apparently a little longer.” But a smile curved Gideon’s lips as he glanced across the room at his vampire mistress. Sitting on the staircase that led into the living area, she wore a gold dress of some glittery, clingy fabric. The gathered neckline showed a generous curve of breast, along with a gold pendant shaped like a delicate dragon, set with a dark green stone. With her sable hair down and curling around her face, she was breathtaking. Daegan was sitting a step above her, his bent thigh providing her a place to lean as he had his back against the wall. A drink dangled from his hand, the other on her shoulder as they studied the tree.

  The number of packages under the fir suggested Santa’s sleigh had tipped over there. Gideon could see Anwyn was still worrying about that, thinking they hadn’t brought enough gifts for Jacob, Lyssa and Kane, but both he and Daegan had assured her they had.

  She’s a thousand years old and wealthier than most Middle Eastern oil countries, Gideon reminded his mistress now. You bought her some hair combs she liked when you two were shopping together. She won’t expect that, and she’ll find the fact you remembered charming. For Lyssa, it’s not just a bullshit saying – to her, the thought is what counts most.