Thaumatology 08 - Ancient

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Thaumatology 08 - Ancient Page 4

by Teasdale, Niall


  ‘Tomorrow? Well, tonight really.’

  ‘Uh-huh. I have to sign some stuff, but after that we’ll be free to do whatever we want. You know they even have a farm out in Hampshire somewhere. It’s called “The Stud.” I’m not entirely sure what goes on…’

  ‘Pony training.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You dress slaves up in harnesses, like carriage horses, kind of. It’s a really heavy discipline thing. Not, like whipping, though there would be some of that, more self-discipline. Learning steps, acting like a pony. I knew a girl who was into it. She had really amazing poise for a human.’

  ‘That’s not something I’ve heard of before.’

  ‘Always good to learn something new,’ Lily replied, giggling.

  ‘I think I should learn all I can about being a good ordinary mistress for you before we develop any other kinks.’

  ‘Thank you, my beautiful Mistress.’

  Ceri smiled and stroked Lily’s soft hair. ‘My pleasure, my gorgeous pet.’

  Mayfair

  Ceri signed her name along the bottom line of the membership contract, and then added the date next to it. Arabella’s signature was already on the line beneath, Ceri had watched her putting it there.

  ‘Welcome to Demi-monde, Ceridwyn,’ Arabella said, smiling. She was dressed in a black, latex gown which hugged her body like a glove before spreading at her knees into a fishtail. Ceri could tell there was nothing but her under it.

  ‘Thank you.’ Ceri glanced over to the corner of the room where Lily was waiting patiently, hands at her sides, eyes downcast. She was wearing only her new collar and the triple nipple chains; Ceri had decided to keep it very simple tonight. Her own outfit was a short, black, strapless sheath-dress, slightly translucent. Her shoes were simple four-inch pumps; Lily was barefoot. ‘Time for that visit to the library, pet.’

  ‘You’re a practitioner, yes?’ Arabella asked. ‘With a licence?’

  ‘I have a PPC.’ The Public Practitioner’s Certificate gave Ceri the right to practice magic professionally, though the only reason she had it was for raising circles in the lab.

  Arabella nodded. ‘Ask one of the attendants if you want access to the restricted section.’ Ceri raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Didn’t Carter say? We have one of the best collections of sexual magic grimoires in the country. Some of them definitely qualify as restricted reading, but there are several which are simply books on enhancing the experience. Considering your pet’s nature, you may find some of the demonology books particularly interesting.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to take a look,’ Ceri replied. ‘Come, pet.’

  Lily moved smoothly, but swiftly, across the room to open the door for Ceri, closing it behind them both and following along, just behind Ceri’s shoulder without a word.

  ‘Does she practice?’ Ceri asked, her voice kept low.

  ‘Yes, Mistress. I can’t tell what. General magic. Wizard or witch, probably. Quite powerful.’

  Ceri nodded and headed for the small lift which would speed them up to the top floor where the library was. It was just about big enough for two; a manual design where you pushed a lever one way to go up, pushing it back to stop and then further for down. In the close proximity, Ceri decided not to resist the urge to trail a finger over her meek little pet’s breasts as they ascended. Lily made no sound, but her tethered nipples stiffened. As they approached the top, Ceri slid the lever over, but there was obviously some form of override which brought the car to a stop at the right level. Lily slid the doors open, allowed Ceri out, and then slid them back.

  There was a corridor off to one side, but ahead of them were double doors with a small, brass plaque on it; “Library. Quiet please.” Lily was already opening the door for Ceri to enter, a smile playing over her lips.

  ‘Are your Mistress’ weaknesses amusing, pet?’ Ceri asked, more or less knowing what the answer would be. Was she fishing for compliments? That would have to stop.

  ‘No, Mistress. I delight in seeing your anticipation.’

  Ceri strode into the library, a smile playing over her lips. They seemed to be alone in the room which stretched from the front of the building to the back, its walls almost entirely lined with shelves except where a fireplace took up the space on the wall directly in front of them. The middle area of the room, in front of the fire, was taken up with reading tables in dark, varnished wood with lighter inlay. The room itself was dimly lit, but there were carefully shielded lamps fixed over the tables and shelves, and each of the heavy, wing-backed chairs which occupied much of the rest of the room had its own lamp attached to the chair back via a gooseneck stand.

  ‘Where shall we start?’ Ceri asked, though Lily took it for the rhetorical question it was and said nothing. Turning left on a whim, Ceri examined the nearest shelves. She heard a little gasp from behind her and glanced at Lily. ‘What’s wrong, pet?’

  ‘That’s Sonnetti Lussuriosi, Mistress.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘It was made in the sixteenth century or something, one of the first ever mass produced pieces of erotica. Definitely one of the most notorious. There isn’t supposed to be a complete copy in existence.’

  ‘Really? Interesting. That’s Ars Amatoria, Ovid as translated by Christopher Marlowe. The Golden Ass by Apeleius.’

  ‘This is practically an academic collection of pornography down the ages over this side of the room.’ Lily blinked, running her finger over the spine of a leather-bound volume. ‘The Yokel’s Preceptor. It was a sort of guide to gay London disguised as a rant about how terrible the place was.’ Her voice turned a little sad. ‘Professor Harrow could’ve sat here for hours.’

  ‘The old guy who told you about Vauxhall? We could invite him…’

  ‘He died a couple of years ago.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Well, he died in bed with twins so I don’t think he was too unhappy about it. It’s like a pornographic history lesson. The Story of O. The Pearl. Fanny Hill. Astarte. The Whipingham Papers. The Way of a Man with a Maid. Delta of Venus.’

  ‘More modern stuff here,’ Ceri said as she scanned another stack. ‘The Enchantress. A Succubus Abroad. The Call Girl Chronicles. You could spend years studying in this place.’

  ‘Is Mistress considering another thesis?’

  Ceri turned, smiling, and spotted the books on the other side of the room. ‘Perhaps something on sexual positions through the ages. Multiple copies of the Kama Sutra and the Perfumed Garden, and… I may well have some reading to do.’ There were shelves of manuals and novels on the BDSM lifestyle just sitting there waiting for her to consume and she started carefully examining the spines, considering what to try first.

  ‘Mistress is well past half of these,’ Lily commented.

  ‘But I’ve never…’

  ‘Natural talent and a little instruction, Mistress. You understood the nature of the relationship from the start. The trust interactions inherent in the power exchange. Perhaps because you were more naturally submissive? If you want to go further you should go for the more specific stuff.’ She tapped the spine of one book. ‘Japanese rope techniques. Hmm… Sensual Torture.’

  ‘I’m not sure “sensual” and “torture” should be used in the same sentence.’

  Lily smiled, lowering her eyes. ‘Mistress tortures her pet in the most sensual way just by being too far away to touch.’

  Ceri’s eyes narrowed slightly and her lips quirked. ‘Really. Let’s have a look at the other side.’

  The other side had more esoteric manuals, books of erotic photography, novels, and then they found the multi-media rack. ‘You in any of these?’ Ceri asked.

  Lily’s eyes scanned over the spines of various DVDs. ‘Two more than my Mistress.’

  Ceri blinked and looked at the cover of the DVD Lily had pulled out. It was titled Pastoral and, on turning it over, she found her own image, masked and corseted, looking back at her. The credits included “Lilith,” which was actually Lily’s birth name, t
hough she had stopped using it after leaving the sex industry. There was also an entry for “The Mistress,” but no indication of any other name. Neither of them had even seen a production copy of the film; the one they had at home had been put together especially for them by Tawni, the producer. Tawni was on the cover, kneeling naked in a flower meadow, legs spread wide in a posture of rapturous pleasure.

  ‘I wonder how many people have seen this,’ Ceri mused. ‘I wonder how many would recognise us.’

  ‘They might recognise pet, Mistress.’

  Ceri slipped the case back into the rack. ‘We can watch that any time we like. That must be the magic books.’ Crossing the room, she stood in front of the glass case with its locked doors and its array of randomly sized, variously bound books. ‘Enchantment on the doors?’

  ‘Yes, Mistress. Some of these have titles in Devotik.’ She crouched down to look at the spines of several thick tomes with odd glyphs marked on them in gold or silver. Devotik was the most common of the demonic languages; Ceri knew Lily’s father had been teaching her more of it than he had when she was a child.

  ‘Can you read any of them?’

  ‘Not entirely. This one’s about Lorril.’ Succubi and Incubi were Lorril in Devotik, not simply the same species, but the same creatures, able to be either sex, or no sex, at will. ‘So are these two. This one’s about Hoprak, the parasitic demon that likes possessing teenage girls. Uh… oh, yuck, Chelvig. Those are a big mass of tentacles. They feed on human fear, generally invoked by being attacked by a huge mass of tentacles.’

  ‘Attacked?’

  ‘Yeah, attacked in an intimate manner. Though they’ll happily go for strangulation or anything else they can use to freak someone out.’

  ‘Lovely. So what is a book on them doing here?’

  Lily appeared to be purposefully not looking up from the bookshelves. ‘Properly controlled, tentacles probing everywhere. Some people get off on that kind of thing.’

  ‘Is my pet harbouring secret desires to have tentacles in all her orifices?’ Lily was concentrating very hard on the book covers and Ceri smirked. ‘Most of these seem to be moderately normal spell books, just concentrating on sex spells. Not that I want to know about that one.’ Lily lifted her head enough to see The Necromancer’s Kama Sutra on one of the books; even she cringed a little.

  Turning from the cabinet, Ceri selected something more or less at random from a shelf and walked over to settle into one of the big chairs. There was a cushion beside it and Lily started toward that. ‘Ah, no,’ Ceri said. Lily stopped, looking confused, her eyes carefully fixed on the floor. ‘Stand in front of me, three feet back.’ She nodded as Lily stepped into the spot she was indicating. ‘Good. Ankles together, hands behind your back. Perfect. Look straight ahead, shoulders back, chest out.’

  Lily stood there, not quite able to see Ceri and certainly unable to touch her. Ceri smiled and opened her book. It turned out to be an illustrated sex positions book. ‘Sensual torture, huh?’

  There was a tiny, barely audible, whimper from Lily. It was just enough to let Ceri know that her pet appreciated the discipline. Mistress Ceridwyn smiled, crossed her legs, and started reading.

  Part Two: Nachtmerrie

  Kennington, London, April 6th, 2012

  ‘What are you reading?’ Lily asked. She was watching the lunchtime TV news, sat on the couch with her head in Ceri’s lap. It made reading a little difficult, but Ceri was not complaining.

  ‘It’s a book about Houdini’s escapology techniques.’

  ‘Escapology? What do you need escapology for?’

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I keep getting kidnapped, tied up, shackled, and generally disabled.’

  Lily’s lips twitched. ‘If I didn’t know any better I’d think you liked being tied up… Oh, wait…’ Without looking, Ceri reached out and gave Lily a slap on the rump. Lily gave a little giggling squeak and wriggled playfully. ‘Can I read it after you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’ Lily asked, pouting.

  ‘Because when I tie you up, I expect you to stay tied up.’

  ‘Maybe we could practice that later.’

  ‘It’s pole dance day, and then we’ve got work. Two nights of Easter costumes, isn’t it?’

  ‘Uh-huh, but we don’t need to go in early this time. No body paint.’

  Ceri folded her book, setting it down on the arm of the couch, and started stroking Lily’s hair instead. ‘I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad. If he’s not putting us in paint, what is he going to do?’

  ‘He wouldn’t say.’

  ‘Now, see? That’s just worrying.’

  Lily giggled. ‘I’m going to get dressed for pole practice. What are you going to wear?’

  Ceri looked down at the shirt she was already wearing, a translucent, pale blue one. ‘I’m going to add a thong and heels and dance in this.’

  ‘Yum,’ Lily said as she got to her feet and strutted toward the door. Of course, Lily would say that about just about anything Ceri chose to wear, but it was nice to be appreciated.

  Soho

  The full moon was in the sky outside the Jade Dragon and inside the werewolves were in high spirits. Being dressed as a rabbit was, perhaps, not the best thing under the circumstances, but Ceri was rather enjoying it.

  Well, “dressed” as a rabbit was probably the wrong term. The outfits were white; white six-inch, platform pumps, white push-up balconette bra, white satin, high-hipped thong with a little white puff-ball tail on the back, and, of course, white rabbit ears on a hairband. The four waitresses were basically naked rabbits dodging the paws of a bunch of horny wolves.

  Still, there was a good atmosphere. It was a national holiday and people were out enjoying themselves. Boy, were they enjoying themselves! The good humour of the werewolves seemed to be rubbing off on the humans more than usual, the drink was flowing freely. Carter was looking a little concerned that someone might get over-excited, right up until the point where Cheryl walked in in a pale yellow, halter-necked gown which flowed around her figure like water and left little to the imagination.

  ‘Business first,’ Cheryl said as Ceri walked up to the bar with a tray of empty glasses. ‘You know I’m going over to Amsterdam for a project meeting?’

  ‘Sunday, coming back Tuesday, right?’ Ceri replied.

  Cheryl nodded. ‘I know it’s really short notice, but do you think you and Lily could come over with me? The Dutch project manager would like to meet you so he can talk over the ley line construction, and here’s a guide they’d like us all to meet.’

  Ceri glanced at Lily, receiving a shrug in reply. ‘How would we be getting there?’

  ‘Car to Felixstowe, high-speed ferry to Rotterdam, train to Amsterdam.’

  Ceri took in a deep breath. ‘I flew all the way back here from America on an airship, I can handle a few hours on a boat.’

  ‘Ship, Ceridwyn,’ Carter corrected. ‘They get annoyed if you call them boats.’

  ‘Whatever floats your boat,’ Ceri replied.

  ‘We’ll be there two nights?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Cheryl said. ‘Monday will be fairly busy, but we’ll be there from about seven pm on Sunday and we aren’t leaving until ten am on Tuesday.’

  ‘I wonder if Tawni has a contact number for Lia?’

  Ceri grinned. ‘Probably. I’d imagine she’ll be happy to show us ‘round the town if she isn’t busy. I’ll call Tawni tomorrow.’

  ‘Business concluded?’ Carter asked.

  Cheryl gave him a broad smile. ‘You’re driving us to the dock, yes?’

  ‘Indeed. I’ll pick you ladies up from High Towers at… around midday?’ Ceri nodded; that should work. ‘Excellent. Alec, wine for our lady.’

  Grinning, Ceri turned to scan the room and immediately started across the floor. Table sixteen was looking ready for the next round, another six Wolfsbanes if she were any judge. Cranking her strut up to “high,” she headed out to satisfy their need
.

  Kennington, March 7th

  By the end of the evening, Ceri and Lily could have gone home with about half a dozen different groups of werewolves. They had all been respectful about it; it was well known among the respectable packs the Ceri was mated, and that Lily was Ceri’s “property.” No one made any demands or lewd suggestions, but the offers had been there. They had all been politely declined because the moon was full and one werewolf in particular was going to be ready to pop if they did not get home to him pronto.

  Usually, Michael came to the house on Saturday nights. It gave them a long Sunday lie in to get over it. However, the full moon made werewolves just a little hyper, and usually very horny, and none of the members of the unconventional threesome were willing to pass up the opportunity to indulge. Ceri was pretty sure that the same was happening somewhere else with Cheryl and Alec, and possibly Carter.

  The girls were walking through Kennington Park, among the trees, when Ceri smiled slightly. ‘We’re being stalked.’

  ‘Michael?’

  ‘It better be, or he’s going to rip whoever it is’s lungs out.’

  Lily giggled, turning it into a happy squeak as a long, grey-furred arm encircled her waist. Michael’s other arm was encircling Ceri’s and, in a moon-powered burst of enthusiasm, he carried the pair of them, laughing like children, the rest of the way to the house.

  ‘You’re more than usually happy,’ Ceri pointed out as he let her onto her feet to unlock the door. She noted that he still had Lily dangling, however.

  Michael growled, a sound which was little more than an animal noise to most humans, but to her it was words. Mate heard me. Hiding good. Mate did good. Werewolf speech was not exactly eloquent, but it got the meaning over usually.

  ‘You’ve been training me for months. I should damn well hope I could spot you. You weren’t hiding your best either. I’ve got human ears and I still heard you.’ She swung the door open and stepped inside before he could pick her up again. He followed her in and there was a sudden shriek from Lily as he swung her under his armpit and started carrying her like a roll of linoleum.

 

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