Biomancy

by Desdemona Gunn

  As the water boiled, he threw a perfectly level tablespoon of it into the pot.

  “And you steep it at a full boil?”

  “Yup. This stuff’s way hardier than your normal tea. Takes a full boil to get all the flavor out of it.” He let it steep a short time, and poured it into their cups, then took a sip and sighed in pleasure. “Careful, it’s hotter than you’re used to. Smell it first, try a sip. You may not like it; people tend to be polarized about it.”

  She sipped, grimaced, raised her eyebrow, sipped again, looked curiously into the cup, sipped again, and smirked. “I think I like it.”

  “Happy to share it with you, then.” Flicking his fingers towards the fireplace, an illusionary fire burst and began to crackle. Naturally, fires were illegal in the dorm buildings, and putting a fire that close to shag carpeting would be stupid. Elon just liked the effect, so he built an illusionary rune generating a fireplace, another to spark a fire inside it, and painted a heat rune over those to generate a fire-like heat. The two of them stared at the fire for ten or so minutes, sipping down their tea before she walked over, straddled his legs, and locked her lips to his.

  Elon didn’t really get the whole “kissing” phenomenon. It was nice enough, he supposed, but no nicer than sitting back and staring at the fire. She aggressively massaged the lower half of his face with her lips, forcibly shoving her tongue into his mouth. He reciprocated as much as he knew how, but couldn’t help wondering what made her want to do this.

  She moved to his neck and went to town on it, leaving him to lean back, as he knew this would appease her, giving her the impression she was doing a good job. She was, and it would be driving anyone else wild, but Elon had more important things on his mind. He was wondering what was running through her mind, whether she was actually thinking anything beyond animal instinct or actively trying to read and appease him.

  His shirt lifted off, which he didn’t particularly mind. Even with the window open, a hot summer breeze was still blowing through Bargatha on the trade winds as the sun set, leaving him unfortunately sweaty. She pulled off her shirt, flung it in a random direction, unhooked her bra, and tossed it in the same direction. Her hands laid atop his, and she lifted them onto her breasts. He took this as a cue and began to massage, letting her moan with delight.

  She leaned forward and shoved her breasts into his face, and he stopped, wondering exactly what she wanted him to do. What... Um...

  “Suck on ‘em, baby.” She jiggled her chest about, glancing her nipples against his lips.

  “What, like a baby?”

  “No, use your tongue. A tiny bit of teeth. You never done this before?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  “Lick it like you’d lick my pussy, babe.” She grinded on his lap as she spoke, talking breathily into his ear. Welll... Alright. Elon grabbed her shoulders from behind, maneuvered her into position, and latched on, eliciting excited and passionate moans. Really? This is what you’re into? That’s... something. After a few minutes of intense enjoyment on her part, she leaned back and kissed his shoulders, moving down to his naturally hairless chest. He rested his arms, laid back his head and closed his eyes.

  Do some men actually enjoy this? Lips on their chests? It doesn’t even feel good; it just feels like... someone kissing my chest. Seriously.

  Cancaten filled his mind, as he had a test after a sleep. It was easy enough, as the test was just sitting down with a native and chatting with them for a short bit, making sure the students remembered everything from before their break, which he did. He ran through some preliminary dialog anyway.

  Back and forth in his head, he bantered in the language, reminding himself of all the customary greetings and colloquialisms he’d need, playing each side of the conversation. His concentration was suddenly broken by a feeling of a hand where he didn’t expect one. He looked down to see her unbuckling his belt with her hand down his pants. “Whoa, what’re you doin’ down there?”

  “Showing my appreciation.” She smiled, wrapped a hand around her target and used the other to yank at his pants.

  “How ‘bout you show your appreciation back up here?” With arcanely-generated hands, he helped carry her back up to eye level and kissed her as passionately as he was able, making her tighten her grip and start pumping her hand. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it out of his pants. “Let’s get into bed and I’ll give you a massage.”

  She looked at him with a look somewhere between concern and disappointment.

  “Um... Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, you’re doing everything great. I just wanna massage you is all.”

  “But...” She stared into his eyes soulfully before giving in. “All right, if you want.”

  The curtains parted as Elon silently floated out of bed, gathered his clothes, and floated out the door. Jasmine had fallen asleep on the bed stark naked. He had disrobed her completely, appeasing not only her libido, but making his massage far easier. He figured she wouldn’t miss him while she dreamed.

  He enjoyed her company enough, but she was no different from anyone else. There were things wrong with her, things that just irked him to the core. She laughed in a disingenuous way, whether she meant it or not. It came out sounding forced, endlessly agitating him.

  Her voice was also just the wrong pitch that it blended into the background noise. She was just the wrong amount of quiet with just the wrong tones to leave him incessantly asking her to repeat herself. Still, she was pretty, he supposed. She was also nice to him, gave him pleasing company, and put a warm feeling in his chest.

  The only issue with this, he thought, was that she was obviously expecting more at this point. They had been dating for around a turn, and she, like most, was actively pursuing more than just company and massages.

  He found sex degrading, vulgar, unrefined. He wondered exactly why people had an ingrained need to get naked and hump each other to convulsion, splashing fluids into one another and ultimately collapsing in a heap of sweat and used hormones. It just didn’t sound appealing to him. It felt demeaning.

  He knew he’d have to break it off soon, which saddened him; he rather liked how nice this one was. She’d get tired of waiting and try to force him into it, claiming “it’s time” and “you and I both know we’re ready,” and “come on, you know you’ll like it.” He might, sure, the little he’d had done to him (such as just a cent previous) felt good enough, he supposed, but he might also like Gorenyan dust; doesn’t mean he should go sniffing it. He had a hundred other things he’d rather be doing than madly humping her like a crazed dog.

  The library called to him, so he obliged. His posh corner chair sat empty, waiting for his company, so he obliged it as well. He found a book on experimental alteration he hadn’t looked into yet. For a few minutes, he sat back reading on the composition of theoretical spells before a familiar voice broke the silence.

  “Fuck. Zippy? Are you seriously reading in the fucking library on a Tendess?” A leather-clad Mohawked Nojernan woman loomed over him. “You should be out hanging, eating, dancing, fucking. Where the fuck’s Jaz?”

  “Asleep, Cherry. Good to see you too.”

  “And you’re letting her sleep? You’ve been together for a turn now; she wants you to be keeping her up all night. And for god’s sake, it’s a Tendess, it’s sunset; they’re practically made for fucking.”

  “You assume I want to.”

  A starry hand pulled his book down and a finger dragged his chin up to meet her lack of face. He stared into where he was pretty sure her eyes were, made easier by the rings pierced through the bridge of her nose, fascinated by her skin. Sure, he’d seen Nojernan skin up close, but it caught him just now, centimeters from her face, how truly textureless it was.

  Her skin bent and curved like anyone else’s, but the light refused to bounce off o
f it. The image painted over her entire body was absolute and offered no contours, just an endless starscape, like a cut-out. Her face seemed like a flat painting, but bent the mind when touched, leaving one wondering just how such a two-dimensional image could, in fact, be as three-dimensional as it was.

  Things only got more confusing as the viewer shifted his angle of perception, showing this two-dimensional painting in a head now shifting like a night sky. It positively perplexed Elon. The only things close to a texture were the rings in the bridge of her nose, up her ears, and into her eyebrows. This only added to the perplexity, as these rings were clear and present, but simply disappeared into the starscape like a wall of darkness.

  “Dude, what the fuck?”

  “Huh?”

  “Gods, was that a come-on? Look, Zippy-”

  “What? No, I’m not fucking hitting on you, Cherry. ‘Sek, you’re like my fuckin’ sister.”

  “Oh thank the gods.” Her posture shifted back a bit and shot out a short breath. “Okay, to reiterate my question, why aren’t you fucking your girlfriend’s brains out?”

  “Because, frankly, I have no desire to.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No bullshit.”

  “If she wrapped her lips around your cock-”

  “I never argued that I wouldn’t biologically respond to her advances and actions.”

  “Then what the fuck are you arguing?”

  “That I don’t want to!”

  She stared at him, or at least in his direction. He couldn’t really tell for sure, though her dangling arms and slouched back implied an exasperated look was painting her face. “What do you mean you don’t want to? You look at her titties, feel her pussy, and you just don’t want to do naughty things to ‘em?”

  “Sex is disgusting, Cherry. Animals hump each other. Civilized men have intellectual conversations.”

  “And fuck each other’s brains out. You know why, Zippy? Because it fucking feels good! It’s our biological imperative! How would you know if you’ve never tried?”

  “How do you know I’ve never tried?”

  “Trust me, I can tell. That and, you know, you’ve told me.”

  Elon sighed annoyedly. “You don’t see me running off to snort up some Gorenyan dust just because it makes my head feel fuzzy. Just ‘cause it feels good doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

  “Hey, just because you’re not adventurous doesn’t mean that I’m wrong. And you know, maybe you should. You might learn something. Besides, you like massaging, don’t you?”

  “Well yeah. I’m good at it, and it’s a bonding thing.”

  “Do you even listen to yourself? You realize that sex is a ‘bonding thing,’ that you might even be good at it? Hell, it’s basically a massage with your dick.”

  “I massage with my hands, not my dick.”

  “Then finger her? Massage her with your fingers. In her pussy.”

  “That’s not how it works, Cherry.”

  “Why not?”

  “Cause massages don’t end with seizures. They feel good, not orgasmic.”

  “Then you’re not doing it right.” She smirked.

  “I’m doing it fine; ask Jaz.”

  “You know what she’ll tell me? That her fingers are about to fall off.” He stared at her. “Cause you won’t pleasure her.” He continued staring. “And she’s masturbating a lot. So her fingers are— For fuck’s sake, Zippy, you’ve got a great thing going, don’t ruin it by...” She struggled for words for a second, allowing Elon to break in.

  “By what? Doing something I’m not comfortable with?”

  “But there’s no good reason you’re uncomfortable! You’re just afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid, I just don’t want to!”

  “No, Zippy. Trust me. I know you. You’re scared, and it’s unhealthy.” She turned on her heels and walked off. “Fuck it, you won’t listen to me. Why bother?”

  “Cherry!” He called out and she stopped, looking back. He sighed. “I forgot to ask. Why are you chiding me for being here? If it’s such a sin to be in the library on a Tendess, what brings you in to find me?”

  “A: I’ve already floated through two parties in the last couple cents. B: I had a book to drop off; I’d be up to my tits in fines if I did it after waking. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go track down a boy for the night and celebrate this gorgeous fuckin’ sunset.” A metal ball appeared on her face, informing Elon her tongue was sticking out. She walked off laughing before putting a hand to her face and sighing.

  Watching her figure walk away in a nonchalantly sultry fashion, he pondered his previous statement. You’re like my fuckin’ sister. It was true, she was. They’d known each other since the first turn of classes, at this point well enough to have names for each other no one else could use. Well enough to cry on each other’s shoulders when necessary. Well enough to console each other in times of need. Well enough to know they were good friends and would never work as anything more; a fact that Elon took no umbrage with.

  She does know me pretty well. What if I am?

  Shut up. She’s a nymph, dude. She’d fuck every minute if she could get away with it. Her hang-ups aren’t yours.

  But I’ve got hang-ups?

  Everyone’s got hang-ups. You not degrading yourself isn’t one of them.

  He sighed and engrossed himself in the tome of alteration; his interest kept for a few cents before a clock finally took his attention. Despite how long he had been awake, he didn’t feel tired at all. A nude black-haired beauty rested in his bed awaiting his embrace, but he had no patience for her ‘cuddles.’ No, Elon longed for intelligent conversation, something Jasmine couldn’t give him until she’d been up for a couple cents. Now who can I contact around this time for a worthwhile chat? I know Rena’s passed out, Jaz is asleep, Kera’s crazy busy, Gar sleeps the entire fucking weekend...

  A few minutes passed as he thought before realizing that the only friend of his available left the library a few cents ago.

  Sighing into the empty library, he cupped his hands together, both of which began to glow a soft pink, and runes quickly inscribed on his palms. Tiny tendrils formed a minute orb floating between his cupped hands. He put his face into his palms and softly whispered, “Hey, you available? Insomnia grips me and I crave intelligent conversation.” He slammed his palms together and an explosion of pink rushed out in a thin spherical wall from the tiny orb, flying out in all directions from him, quickly out of sight through the walls. He waited for a brief period before a pink flash flew through the library and disappeared upon reaching him. Arianrhod’s voice rang through his head.

  You’re interrupting my blowjob. Gimme... half a cent. Courtyard sound good to you?

  He cupped his hands and repeated the spell. “Sounds good, see you then.” He paused, almost closed his hands, but stopped. “And really? It’s been three cents. Did you just find a new guy to blow?” Cue pink explosion, followed shortly by another coming from the west.

  Gimme a break, we’ve fucked thrice tonight, I wanted a taste. Now shut up, can’t suck and talk.

  Elon respected her wishes as he levitated out of his chair, gently put the book back in its place, and floated out the door.

  The campus was cold, but reasonably so. A light breeze sailed between the buildings, leaving Elon with a good reason to have grabbed his coat. He waited, looking at the clock tower across the courtyard from him, sitting at a small table, a chessboard built into it. A few tables behind him, he could hear a couple whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears between rabid kisses.

  While he waited for his gothy friend to show up, he pulled out a short tobacco pipe, packed it and lit it with a quick cantrip. Despite urgings otherwise due to his age, he had always found the pipe oddly refined and sooth
ing. Though no one had qualms with smoking indoors, he tended to use it outdoors almost exclusively. The smoke, he figured, could mess with spells, components, and even just atmospheric conditions for people.

  As he drew the smoke into his mouth, a soft almost creamy flavor coated his tongue, the smoke holding a noticeable weight in his mouth. He dropped his jaw and let the smoke pour out, a delightful smell with a seemingly vanilla-tinged tone to it wafted daintily about. He smiled as he drew in another puff, the tobacco burning a nice smooth red in the bowl.

  Before long, Arianrhod found her way to his table garbed ever in her black leathers draped in chains, the only difference being her hair, the usual erect mohawk lying limp to the side. She sat across from him, bridged her fingers, and looked at him.

  “Do you have a good reason for dragging me from tonight’s entertainment?”

  “Is desiring the pleasure of your company a good enough reason?”

  “There’s a boy in my bed that was quite enjoying the pleasure of my company before I got your message. As was I.” She reached into a hip-pouch, pulled out a small cigar wrapped in a green leaf, and pulled a knife out with her opposite hand. “Thanks,” she said as she cut the tip off, “by the way. Ever try explaining to a boy why you’ve stopped sucking his cock to mutter into your hands? It’s fuckin’ awkward.”

  He laughed to himself, small puffs of smoke jumping out of his mouth with each chuckle. “I can’t say I’ve had the opportunity.” She put the cigar to her mouth and Elon snapped his fingers, pouring fire magic into the tip of his finger, lighting the end for her. Rhod drew deep and let out a cloud of smoke.

  “You’ve had the opportunity to have the dude equivalent.”

  “I didn’t bring you out here to bring this back up.”

  “Monica. Jaina. Kitty. Sally. Kelly. Soon, Jazzy. They all end the same fuckin’ way.”

  “Wow, I’ve dated a lot of ladies ending in ‘y.’” He laughed at this. “Hah. Most of those flings ended in ‘why?’” Gods, I crack myself up.