Coven Master 4: (A Harem Fantasy)

by Nick Storming

  Darien didn’t like it, but he gave a sharp nod and with a silent signal, sent his elves to die for Queen and country. As he charged across the broken desert landscape, he thought he heard the human laughing, only it sounded far too high pitched and cruel.

  If the best squad in all of the White Knights must die, Darien thought to himself, then let it be a glorious death!

  “To victory or death!” He shouted as the first scorpion man reared up, pinchers wide and hooked tail hovering dangerously, and felt his heart sing when the six voices rose in answer.

  Knight-Lieutenant Darien’s last thought as his body hung up on the scorpion’s tail and Mordrek and the triplets sprinted past without looking back, was for his loved ones, as they still battled for their lives, the Aquabuamelu pushing them deeper and deeper into the desert.

  “No! No! No! The ley-field is turned counter-clockwise and then crosswise four degrees! Not 3.5! You damn idiot, boy!”

  Logan sighed as he released the power and began again, tracing the ley-field with his fingers. Meryl’s form of instruction left much to be desired and after an afternoon in Professor Holgrim’s class he couldn’t help comparing the two.

  Gwen taught in an encouraging manner, guiding you to the answer, and celebrating your success when you discovered it. Meryl enjoyed brow-beating her students and wielding her superior knowledge like a club to beat them into submission.

  At first Logan worried how Evelyn would handle being yelled at or cursed whenever she made the slightest mistake. Fortunately for the witch, the woman rarely made mistakes, and when she did they were only on the most complex spells and castings and then never repeated. Meryl grumbled that first night, wanting to find fault in the raven-haired beauty’s fledgling Earth Magic casting, but a grudging respect was growing between the two.

  Jex-Amina was unlike either Gwen or Meryl when she taught. In part it was the magic the young elf was teaching, and in part it was her own feelings of inadequacy. The young elf never felt comfortable around the ancient and legendary, Meryl, and the only human she was fully comfortable around was Becca whom she’d become fast friends with.

  Fae Magic is less structured than Earth Magic. It had rules and philosophies, to be sure, and Logan had learned some of them along the way, but it was a magic of feel and instinct as much, if not more, than book learning.

  Logan listened in on the lessons, and went through the motions with Evelyn, Meryl and the rest, but his results couldn’t compare with theirs. None of the women mentioned his special little problem with magic, but the power wouldn’t flow for him the same on this side of the Cauldron as it had in Fae.

  He missed the sensation of elation as magic filled him and his mind was used to accomplish feats his body could not. Eris said she might have a solution to his problem, but it would require another healthy vial of his blood and a couple days buried in her lab. He hoped she could help, but the memory of those strangely cold and distant thought sliding across his mind gave Logan a shiver of fear whenever he thought of it.

  Fear, because those cold alien thoughts had felt so… right. So… him.

  Shaking clear the encroaching worries, Logan twisted the ley-field crosswise as Meryl instructed. This time he saw the white lines of magic melt into one another, but before the spell would have taken hold and surrounded him in a shield of force to stop unmagical-missiles from striking him, the magic melted away, no power channeled into them.

  “Good,” Meryl said with a grunt, “now practice the cantrips while I teach Evelyn about Time and how the Flow can’t be sped left and rejoined but can be slowed or sped up if one has sufficient will-power and the right knowledge.”

  The clash of practice blades warned Logan, Becca and Ly’Synthia had finished their strange dance and were sparring. Moving between two ancient olive trees, the young man’s fingers moved through the motions of casting all ten cantrips, working on dexterity and precision, while his lips whispered the words of power. All the while his attention was on the brunette teen and the dark elf as they clashed.

  Logan didn’t see how it was possible, but Becca’s skills improved since their last session. The girl had always been preternaturally talented with either blade in her hand and it wasn’t her sword work precisely that had improved, but her balance, speed and flexibility.

  The two warriors fought with the same, single edged swords, curved like katanas. Syn said the principles of swordsmanship could be learned best with a single blade and the sword was best for teaching martial skills. They danced back and forth, arms and legs a blur, the clatter of dull steel blades ringing out into the night.

  As Logan worked through each cantrip again and again, increasing his own dexterity bit by bit, he couldn’t help but be happy for his friend. The joy was plain on Becca’s face, the girl had never been happier than when she tested and pushed herself and Ly’Synthia was proving a more than worthy opponent.

  “Instruction is useless,” Syn had said when they began their training that night. “It’s the body that must learn, not the ears.”

  The sun sank beneath the horizon and the two combatants put aside their training weapons, Meryl and Evelyn talking quietly about the intricacies of calling a fireball into being as they stepped inside.

  “You are improving,” Ly’Synthia was saying to Becca when Logan approached, “but your forms are still too unstructured. Once you know the full range of your motions and talents, you’ll be able to plan farther out, movement into movement.”

  “Like chess,” Becca said, nodding, “I think I see what you mean. Less reaction and more tactical.”

  “Exactly,” Syn said, “And you, sire? Would you seek instruction in the blade? That is a magnificent weapon you’ve been blessed with.”

  Logan had been hoping to head in and get some much-needed rest, but instead he stifled his sigh and took up one of the practice blades Ly’Synthia had brought with her. The dark elf faced off with Logan and launched an attack before he’d settled his feet into the opening stance.

  Again, and again, the dark elf attacked, her sword breaking through the man’s defenses easily. Though his sides and limbs grew dark bruises, Logan lasted a bit longer in each exchange. He didn’t have Becca’s incredible natural talent, but he’d always had good hand-eye coordination and balance which helped in sword play.

  “Good feet,” Syn nodded, “quick wrists… and your mind sees the coming attack clearly.”

  The dark elf disengaged, nodding as she circled Logan slowly, “You have the makings of a fine swordsman, Sire, you might even reach the status of blade master, with enough decades of training and devotion. You have it in you I think.”

  Logan stood a little straighter until the dark elf spoke next.

  “But the sword won’t be your weapon of choice, not when you can employ magic. It wouldn’t be good for you to build the instincts of a swordsman and rely on that weapon too heavily when another, more efficacious one is at hand.”

  “I can make that determination for myself,” Logan said, and Syn caught herself, bowing low.

  “My apologies, your majesty. I forget myself.”

  “That’s not what he meant, Syn,” Becca drawled, stepping up and handing over her practice blade, “You call a man your king, at a certain point you have to put a little faith in his judgement.”

  The dark elf Commander wore a troubled look on her delicately featured face. Leaving the woman with her thoughts, Logan led Becca through the garden to her car where Jex’Amina waited.

  “You have dinner with Simon and his mom tomorrow?”

  “Yea, he wants to bring over his game too. Might be stuck with him all night.”

  “That’s good,” Becca said, slipping her hand in his as they stepped through the side yard, “Simon’s been asking when you’re free to hang out for over a week.”

  “I know,” Logan said, frowning, “Feels like I’m being pulled in a million directions lately. There’s just too much stuff to juggle-!”

  Becca pushed him up agains
t a vine covered wall, her kiss shocking him to silence and drawing a deep moan from him. The kiss slowed his frenetic mind, and he luxuriated in the feel of her body against his. Leaves tickling his ears, he ran his hand down her sweat slick sides to cup her tight little ass.

  “I know what you need,” Becca purred into Logan’s lips, her nimble little fingers fishing his cock free of his gym shorts.

  Chapter 8

  Logan was exhausted but the haze and stress faded as he lost himself in the feel of his knight. Becca’s delicate lips nipped at his neck as he worked the yoga pants down over her slender hips. There was no foreplay, no warming up for the young lovers. Their need was too insistent and the joy of fucking out in the open filled both with heightened desire.

  The brunette threw one foot up beside his hip and Logan gasped in shock as she pressed her tightness down around his cock. Cupping her tiny ass, he pulled her up along his shaft, savoring the feel of her warm, wet pussy as it gripped him.

  “Mhmm, I missed this,” Becca purred into his neck.

  “Me too,” Logan sighed, then his sigh turned into a groan as Becca did something with her hips, twisting them in a circle, before pulling back until just the tip sat within her lips, then slamming back forward to take all of his length within her.

  “We have a witness,” Becca breathed, her head twisted to the side.

  When Logan followed his knights gaze, he saw Ly’Synthia standing on the edge of the side yard, observing the young teens coupling. The dark elf stood out in the open, eyes bright with interest and clearly taking notes of what she was seeing.

  Grinning, Logan gripped Becca’s tiny ass and lifted the teen, loving her little yelp of surprise and pleasure as he slammed her down into him. The wet squish was joined by a deep, almost guttural groan as the brunette threw her hands behind his neck, holding on as the lust swept through both.

  Ly’Synthia witnessed the wild passion of her King and his greatest knight, feeling a pang of envy for the human woman, and noting just what the girl did to drive the young man wild.

  Becca’s arms were wrapped around Logan tight, her lips locked with his and ankle pressing into the small of his back as her hips thrust into him with relentless insistence. Guided by his hands gripping her firm ass cheeks, the young woman’s voice rose in a yelp of pleasure, breaking their kiss as her body exploded in orgasm.

  The feel of Becca gripping him, her tight sex milking his cock as she convulsed in orgasm was too much and Logan felt his own orgasm rush through, toes curling and cock throbbing as it flooded her depths. Gasping, the pair grinned into their kiss, laughing gently as Logan eased Becca’s feet to the ground.

  Just as sudden and fierce as their passions awoke, they faded, the two pulling their clothes back in place as they stepped out of the ivy. Becca stepped away from Logan easily, a look of renewal and relaxation on her face as she passed the dark elf, offering the woman a little wink before heading to her car.

  “This evening has been most instructive, my liege,” Ly’Synthia said, her violet eyes glowing faintly in the night and the bright line of her teeth flashing as an almost predatory smile grew on her lips. “Tell me, is there a difference between the pleasures of a human vagina and that of an elf’s? I’ve heard a succubus can melt a man’s brain with the touch of their genitals to his, but what of say… a dark elf’s?”

  Sighing to himself, Logan led the tall warrior inside.

  “Every woman is different, unique and wonderful,” Logan said, and though he meant it to reassure the elf, he found he meant it. “There are… differences, but nothing bad.”

  “What’s this?” Gwen asked, stepping over from a pot of chili bubbling away on the stove.

  The blonde witch ran a hand down Logan’s cheek and a silvery glow emanated from the fingers. As the glow faded, so did his bruises and injuries from training, as well as the cramp and ache in his fingers.

  “Nothing-.” Logan started to say, but Ly’Synthia went right on, causing him to flinch.

  “I was curious about the physiological differences in the races when it relates to pleasuring our liege.”

  Gwen blinked in shock and Logan heard a small sound emanate from the back of her throat, but Eris cackled.

  “Exactly what I told both of them!” The red headed witch said, popping up from the table, “There is too little known about the races now adays. Much of what we thought we knew isn’t so and I wonder how much of what we learned was false or misleading.”

  “The humans are even more changeable. We still have sages who think you’re little more than apes.”

  “I think some experimentation is in order,” Eris said, her pale blue eyes sparkling as she watched Logan dish up a bowl of chili and sit at the table.

  “It would be best if we had a Halfling and a Dwarf as well as a dryad. The Fae races are quite varied in their physiology.”

  “I think we can begin here,” Eris purred, winking up at the tall dark elf, “Evelyn, don’t you think tonight a good chance for the three of us to get acquainted with our new friend here?”

  “It will give our Lord a chance to have a rest,” Evelyn said, patting Logan on the shoulder lightly and smiling when he gave her a relieved smile.

  “I’m not sure,” the tall Commander began, swallowing hard as three sets of gleaming blue eyes focused on her.

  Whatever the dark elf might think of humans, having a coven of witches focusing their sharp gazes on her sent a quiver through her mid-section. A quiver of fear and one that awoke a deep heat within Ly’Synthia.

  Looking forward to an evening of rest, Logan downed his chili fast and slipped back to his bedroom. Opening the door, he froze when he found two tiny figures huddled beneath his blankets.

  “If you thought you were resting, think better.” Meryl growled, her kinky mass of black hair pushed back, revealing a delicate featured face, scowling and blushing.

  Beside the ancient sage lay the trembling figure of Jex’Amina. The tiny elf, so confident when teaching, clutched at the blankets with tiny fists, her cheeks a deep shade of red and Logan could just make out her whisper.

  “Let’s leave, my Lady, the King has no wish to bed me-.”

  “Hush, girl!” Meryl hissed at Jex-Amina, “Your Lord understands his duty,” turning her eyes hardened, “don’t you, Sire?”

  Logan’s desire for rest dissolved before the young elf’s shy innocence. Jex-Amina watched the tall man’s eyes shift from Meryl Linn to her and the sparkle of interest and desire grew within them. The sorceress’s shyness faded as the man slowly removed his shirt and shorts, standing with supreme confidence and a small smile of anticipation playing along his lips, he held out a hand, beckoning her to come kneel at his feel.

  Gazing up from the floor the delicate little elf’s gem-like eyes widened as the object of her desire swung out into the open. Firm little hands gathered the sorceress’s hair, guiding her forward as Logan’s manhood rose before her. Delicate lips spread as she gobbled him down her throat, causing a groan of pleasure from Logan.

  Meryl slipped forward on the bed, her legs spread to either side of Jex-Amina’s kneeling form as the girl tried fitting as much of him down her throat as she could. Bending low, Logan kissed the ancient sage, her little tongue darting into his mouth playfully as she shoved the elf’s face forward and dragged it back.

  Logan let a bit of the demonic beast within him emerge as he fucked the happy little elf’s face. The girl seemed eager to be of service and Meryl loved dominating her. As their play progressed and he pressed the two elves down on the bed, he took special pleasure in pressing the ancient one’s energetic tongue into Jex’Amina’s tiny little pussy, as he slid into the sage’s depths.

  It wouldn’t be until late at night before Logan finally passed out, with two sated elves tucked beneath each arm. The little creatures were slick with sweat and all manner of juices and though millennia separated them in age, they could have been twins as they faded into gentle dreams.

  Logan found dre
ams waiting for him too, as sleep stole him under, but they weren’t gentle.

  Darkness closed in around him, only it wasn’t him but a larger, shorter figure he lived in. Darkness closed in, trapping, stealing away all hope and light, except for four figures striding forward out of that darkness, golden light at their back.

  Logan felt a moment of déjà vu as he saw his own silhouette striding forward, golden light revealing his face and those of his companions. On Logan’s right side stood Dawn Ngyuen, Simon’s mom, but he didn’t recognize the other two figures. One was a tiny, black-skinned creature with twin rows of pointed teeth and curved horns rising from her delicate brow.

  The third might have been strangest of all, for it was a High Elf. The woman’s armor named her a White Knight, but she gazed at ghost Logan with a similar devotion and fervency as Ly’Synthia. The golden haired and fair skinned elf had a slender figure, boyishly slim, and wore an elegant rapier on one hip, but other than that there was nothing to indicate who she was or why she was there.

  Ghost Logan raised his hand, as did the three women beside him, and as they did the feeling of imprisonment faded. As the stream slipped away and Logan fell into the washed-out dreams of regular sleep, none noticed the glow within the gemstone inset in the pommel of his sword fading as well.

  Chapter 9

  When he woke the next morning to the sensation of Syn’s hot lips wrapped around his cock, Logan couldn’t forget the strange dream. The immediacy of what he was experiencing pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and he moaned in pleasure, reaching down to slip his fingers into the elf’s silky hair.

  Forms stirred to either side of him and soon Logan was drowning in elven flesh as Meryl and Jex’Amina joined the Commander in her morning duties. Twenty minutes later, after edging their lord for long minutes, the three were rewarded with fountains of magically laced seed that they gobbled down with glee.