The Mage's Passion

by Reed James

  I concentrated on the sensations, letting myself forget the karabasan's dick. A true woman was atop me and fucking me with a dildo. Nothing male was in me. This is the way it should be. I bucked into her thrusts, savoring the pleasure shooting through me.

  “Fuck me harder,” I groaned. “I can take it.” My hands gripped the Virgin Superior's ass, pulling her in tight.

  “Saphique, what a whore,” purred the Virgin Superior. “What a dedicated servant.”

  “Yes,” I groaned, my pussy clenching down on the stone dildo.

  My right hand found her nipple. I tugged on it as she slammed into me. She groaned, her eyes fluttering as I played with her nipple. My other hand dipped into the crack of her ass and teased her sphincter.

  “Oh, you are the wildest virgin I've ever fucked,” she gasped. “Finger my ass. Make me cum.”

  “Yes,” I purred as I pumped my finger in and out of her hot ass. “Pound my pussy. Let's cum together.”

  “Saphique, yes.”

  Our bodies heaved as the pleasure built inside of us. Our tongues met, our piercings clinking together as we shared our passion. Her dildo stabbed faster and faster into me. Her asshole clenched on my finger.

  My toes curled. My orgasm swelled through me. I broke the kiss and let out a wordless scream as my climax erupted through me. The Virgin Superior shoved her dildo deep into me, gasping in delight as she joined me in orgasm.

  The Goddess's touch surged through my body.

  “Yes,” I cried out, tears burning in my eyes. I was an acolyte of Saphique again. I was welcomed back by my goddess. “Thank you, Saphique.”

  The Virgin Superior collapsed on me. She nuzzled into my neck and cheek as I cried for joy. I never wanted to lose my Goddess's touch on my soul again.

  Chapter Eleven: Prowling Rage

  Thrak – Red Eye Tribal Lands, Larg Federation

  The clear stars burned overhead. I stared up at them, my thoughts drifting. The summer solstice was upon the world. The time to hunt, gather, and war had come to the orc lands. I studied the stars' patterns as they drifted across the night sky. Serisia's spirit lay beside me, cold with her unlife.

  She was a phantom and had a corporeal presence now. I had fed her my seed, anchoring her to the world with my life. Would she become a murderous spirit like the legends spoke of? Or would she guide me to my destiny? To my new woman that would heal my heart?

  Her hand rested on my reddish-brown chest, idly playing with my coarse hairs. I waited beside her grave. I had abandoned my duty to my tribe to stay with her. My people's destiny lay in the hands of my brother. He would lead them. I was dead inside. I couldn't protect Serisia. How could I protect the rest of my tribe?

  The wind shifted. The acrid tang of bird dung filled my nose. Ghost Wolves.

  I sat up and reached for my double-headed greataxe. Each crescent blade gleamed in the starlight as I rose to a crouch, peering across the dark tundra. Grass moved, little more than dark silhouettes in the night sky.

  “What?” Serisia asked.

  “Ghost Wolves,” I growled.

  She gasped. Her spirit remembered little of the brutalization she had experienced before her death. She had been struck from behind, a single blow delivering darkness. When she gained consciousness, her rape had already begun. She was dazed, the details blurring.

  I did not blame her for wanting to ignore the trauma.

  My hands tightened on my ax as the figures crept closer. The Ghost Wolves had always been rivals to the Red Eye Orcs. They bordered our lands to the north and always raided us, jealous of our wealth and prowess. They painted their faces white, the paint made from the droppings of seagulls.

  It was the distinctive scent I smelled. Every Red Eye orc recognized it.

  These were the orcs that brutalized my wife. I had killed thirty after finding her savaged corpse. I had let the berserker rage consume me. There were those of my kind who could become rage distilled to its most pure. I had learned much of the human theories on berserkers when I attended the University of Allenoth. The scholars called it a fugue state. When I berserked, my mind disassociated from my body and only my pure, primal emotions controlled my body.

  My rage.

  I hated the bloodlust, and yet it called to me. My hand tightened on the leather wrapped handle of my ax. It begged to kill these orcs. The ones who had despoiled and murdered my wife were dead, but their kin remained.

  And they crept towards the graveyard of my people. The cowards were here to despoil while my tribe moved to the summer pastures.

  “Why do you skulk like dogs in the night?” I bellowed, rising atop the hill. I let the starry night sky illuminate my silhouette. I lifted my ax high. “Why do you cowards trespass on Red Eye lands?”

  “Vengeance,” a rumbling voice growled. “The blood of our kin cries for your death, Thrak.”

  I laughed. They wanted vengeance? “It was your cowardly kin that took her from me. Your kin deserved to be dismembered and slaughtered. You all deserve it.”

  The rage spoke. I hated these words, but seeing the white-painted faces rise out of the surrounding grass sparked the darkness inside me. I despised them all, glaring from one orc adorned by gray wolf pelts to another. I sneered at the crude weapons clutched in their hands. I had human-forged steel, while they carried pitted iron.

  “She was a human,” one laughed. “Weak. An orc woman would have survived our kin's embrace.”

  “What a whore she was,” another growled. “I bet she left you and came panting after them, her cunt dewy with her slattern excitement.”

  “The slut couldn't handle a Ghost Wolves' cock,” another laughed. “Ours are mighty. Not like your puny Red Eye cocks. Real orcs tear human cunts apart.”

  The rage seized me. The world became red.

  I sat in the calm center of my mind as my body moved on its own. Wordless rage burst from my mouth as I charged down the hill. An arrow buzzed past my head. Other bows were raised. The rage didn't care.

  I would feel no pain.

  One grazed my shoulder. Blood dribbled. The rage howled.

  And then the ax swung. Silver flashed. The first Ghost Wolf died, his head parted from his body in a fountain of life. The corpse thudded to the ground as my berserked body leapt at the next cowardly orc.

  I hated it. Blood painted me. The rage savored every kill, every agonizing scream.

  They were recorded in my mind. I wanted to stop the slaughter. There were a dozen Ghost Wolves. They tried to fight. They tried to be true orcs, but none had faced a berserker before. They did not know the savagery I could inflict.

  I threw my ax, braining an orc, the weapon's weight carrying his corpse to the ground. I pivoted and, with my bare hands, seized another. I raised his squirming, screaming body over my head and then slammed his back down on my knee. Bones cracked. I dropped the limp orc while the rage laughed.

  “Weak!”

  My foot came down on the paralyzed orc's head. His skull popped like an over-ripe melon.

  The last few tried to flee. I retrieved my ax and ran them down, the rage giving me more speed than their fear. I loped off the first's leg, leaving him squirming on the ground as I went for the second. He was young, just entering his orchood.

  My rage savored his scream.

  I strode back to the maimed orc clutching the bleeding stump of his leg. “Weak!”

  I ended his life. He gurgled as he died. They were all dead, but the rage still held me. I needed to kill more. I had to keep fighting. Nothing could stop me. I raced back up the hill, searching for more to hurt.

  To the west, the Red Eye lands awaited. My brother was there. Bruk. He had called Serisia a whore. I could run through the night and—

  “Thrak,” a woman spoke.

  My rage spun me around, and I sighted Serisia in all her pale beauty. She cupped her round breasts as she lay on the ground, her legs spread wide. Her fingers slid up to her pink nipples, pulling on the bone pierced through her nubs.
<
br />   “Mmm, you were so wonderful, Thrak.”

  My cock hardened. I was still in the fugue, but lust began replacing rage.

  There were only three ways for a berserker to stop killing: death, exhaustion, or sex.

  The lust threw down my ax into the grass. I ripped off my kilt, baring my thick cock, the end pierced by bone like a proper orc—pain was to be endured. I throbbed for her as she pinched her nipples and moaned, drawing me to her.

  “Mine!”

  “Yes,” she groaned as I threw myself on her.

  I wasn't gentle—the lust didn't allow for that—as I squeezed her cold breast. My wife shuddered, still able to feel pleasure as a phantom. She had always enjoyed rough sex. It was what had drawn us together in the university. She had been a rich man's daughter then, studying while searching to find another rich, boring man to marry. And then she met me. She burned to experience an orc's passion. When I had taken her the first time, I wasn't gentle. I hadn't learned to love her body.

  I rutted with her. And she loved it.

  “Thrak,” Serisia groaned as I slammed my thick cock into her tight pussy. She shuddered beneath me, so small compared to my hulking frame. She looked so fragile, but she never broke. “Oh, yes. Satiate your lust. Let go of your emotions. I love you.”

  My hips hammered hard. My cock ached in the depths of her hot pussy. Her hard nipples and piercings rubbed into my lower chest while her lips kissed and sucked at my shoulders. Her fingernails clawed my back as her hips bucked to meet my thrusts.

  “Mine!” growled my lust. “Cum!”

  “Yes,” she shuddered, her hot pussy clenching down on my cock. The rest of her body was cool, but not her silky sheath. “Cum in me. Give it to me. Mmm, you know I love it. Come back and remember your love.”

  With every stroke, the lust weakened, and I began to return to my body. The barriers between my flesh and my rationale mind faded. My strokes grew more purposeful. I no longer rutted in Serisia's body, I made love to my wife.

  “Serisia,” I growled as she humped beneath me.

  “Yes, Thrak,” she moaned in delight. Her body shuddered. “Oh, yes. I love your cock. Hammer me. Make me cum.”

  My heavy balls smacked into her flesh as I savored her tight grip. My fingers tore at the ground as she shuddered beneath me. My wife came, her body convulsing and her pussy milking my shaft. I thrust slowly. Powerful strokes that buried into her depth and savored our union.

  I savored her cumming pussy. The pleasure radiated to my balls, building the pleasure. I groaned as the rapture built. Her bucking slowed beneath me as her orgasm died. She moaned in delight as her hips moved again, matching my thrusts.

  “Cum in me,” she groaned. “Love me, Thrak.”

  “I do,” I growled. “My wife. No woman can replace you.”

  “She won't,” gasped Serisia. “But you'll love her all the same. You'll find happiness.”

  “This is my happiness,” I growled. I thrust into her. My balls tensed. “Only here.”

  My cum erupted. I growled atop her as my pleasure pulsed out of her body. Every blast sent shudders of ecstasy flooding through my body to my brain. My back arched as the pleasure reached its peak.

  And then I collapsed on her.

  “This happiness can't last forever. I'm dead, Thrak.”

  “Let me have this dream,” I whispered, savoring her beneath me. “Let me hold onto you as long as I can.”

  “You will,” she whispered. “But she'll be here soon. She'll complete you.”

  “How much longer?”

  “I don't know. Time is...different for me. It all blurs together. Soon.”

  I rolled off my wife and stared up at the first sky of summer. How could any woman give me happiness? Serisia was my happiness. I didn't want to give her up, even if she was only a spirit, a phantom feeding off my cum.

  It was better than life without her.

  Chapter Twelve: Passion's Cure

  Knight-Errant Angela – Allenoth, The Magery of Thosi

  “I am going to enjoy the festival,” Faoril said, stretching as she stood. “I'm glad you're better, Angela.”

  I nodded as I pushed aside the second bowl of savory stew the acolyte had brought me. I hadn't eaten in two days because of the karabasan that had possessed me. I shuddered, remembering how horrible it had been to be trapped in my mind.

  I was such a strong warrior, but how could I fight against something insubstantial? The spirit had slipped into my body through my dreams, tricking me and then claiming me. And what it forced me to do to Sophia threatened to make me weep.

  “I hope they can restore Sophia,” I muttered to Xera.

  The elf nodded. She sat across the table from me.

  “They will,” Faoril said as she slipped out of her red robes. She left them on the table.

  “Are you really going out there, Madam Mage?” the attending novice asked. She was young, maybe nineteen, her exposed right breast little more than a puffy mound.

  “Of course. It's the Summer Solstice. So many men to enjoy.” Faoril smiled at the novice's wrinkled nose.

  “Enjoy,” I said. I almost wanted to join, but I needed to see Sophia. I turned to the novice. “How much longer until Sophia is restored?”

  “Acolyte Sophia has already been restored,” the novice answered. “I believe she is in a guest room recovering.”

  Hurt stabbed my heart. She didn't come to see me. I couldn't blame her. The karabasan spirit had formed a cock out of spiritual energy and forced my body to fuck her. It was such a violation for a woman that had sworn to never let a man touch her.

  To always be a virgin.

  Did she hate me? Did she fear me? I swallowed. That...made my heart ache. I wasn't sure what I felt for Sophia, but there was affection for the girl. I did enjoy dominating her. I enjoyed her supportive presence.

  Maybe I loved her.

  I wasn't sure. The last person I loved I gave up, allowing the Lesbius Oracle to steal my memories of him in exchange for a prophecy to defeat the dragon Dominari. How much could I really love someone if I was willing to give up every bit of my love?

  Maybe I couldn't love. Maybe I just lusted. Sophia and Lady Delilah both made my heart race.

  I had thought little of Lady Delilah lately. My hand went down to the garnet-studded amulet she had given me. I clenched my fingers around it. I treasured the amulet. I had a crush on the beautiful knight since I was a girl. She was the first to awaken my body to pleasure. I had masturbated for the first time to her.

  I still fondly desired her. It was her encouragement that kept me from losing all hope when I was given the quest to slay the Dragon Dominari.

  If she were here, she would know how I could help Sophia. She would be strong and bold. She would march into the room and show Sophia that I wasn't the karabasan any longer, that I was the woman Sophia loved.

  Her mistress.

  “Novice,” I said. “Fetch me a dildo and a harness for it.”

  “Yes, Lady Knight,” the novice nodded, a smile on her lips.

  Xera gave me a questioning look.

  “It's time I talked to Sophia,” I answered.

  The elf nodded with approval.

  ~ * ~

  Acolyte Sophia

  “That's it,” I purred as the two novices suckled at my breasts.

  The first thing I did after being restored to Saphique was make sure I had my magic. My milk filled my small breasts, and I ached to nurse someone. So I found a pair of novices—Gressi and Tholia—and dragged them to my guest bedroom.

  “Oh, you are so delightful,” I purred, my hand sliding down to cup their round asses. They were both so cute. Their hands slid down my body, reaching for my pussy while their hot cunts humped against my thighs.

  I shuddered as their fingers ran through my bare pussy. Their slim fingers caressed my folds while their cheeks hollowed, mouths sucking hard to drink down my milk. They loved it, suckling noisily and moaning in delight around my aching ni
pples.

  “Mmm, I love Novices,” I groaned. They were both new, only eighteen, and oh, so cute.

  My fingers dipped between the cracks of their asses. Gressi squealed on my left nipple as my finger penetrated her tight asshole. Tholia humped harder, her asshole clenching around my finger as she worked against my thigh.

  “You like my finger in your ass, don't you, sluts?”

  “Yes, Acolyte Sophia,” gasped Gressi. Her red lips were stained with my milk. Her light-brown hair fell in waves around her porcelain face. “You are so amazing. On a Quest with a Knight, an Elf, and a Mage.”

  “I know,” I said, trying to ignore the strange fear that flushed through me at the mention of knight. Flashes of Angela on top of me, fucking the spectral cock into my pussy shuddered through me. I seized Gressi and pulled her back to my nipple. “Keep suckling.”

  Help me forget.

  I worked my fingers deeper into their tight asses. Their hot cunts smeared faster on my thighs. They were so silky smooth, their pussies bare. Both had mastered the art of controlling whether they had pubic hair, a simple trick.

  Their hard clits rubbed on me. Their fingers both penetrated my pussy as they moaned louder. They humped faster, their assholes clenching about my fingers. I loved their passion.

  “That's it,” I cooed. “Cum while sucking my tits. Let me feel your passion coat my thighs.”

  Gressi humped faster. Her body shuddered. Her juices flooded my thigh. My nipple tingled in her mouth as she suckled hard and moaned. Her lips popped off as her body thrashed. She let out wordless gasps as her pleasure burned through her.

  Tholia groaned. She slid her pussy along my thigh, her asshole so tight on my finger. Her own fingers shoved deep into my pussy. And then she joined Gressi in the delight of her orgasm. She bucked against my body, her hard nipples atop her puffy breasts pressed on my side.

  “Mmm, that was wonderful,” I groaned. “Now it's your turn to make me cum.”

  The door banged open. “But I haven't given you permission to cum.”