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  • Charm 7: Cut Off the Head

    2014 - 03.16

    Jump to Chapter 1

    Day 2

    Water poured down the south wall of the room, a thin, flat sheet over a wall of stone that had been polished smooth by many years of controlled flow. The water descended through a grate in the floor, and disappeared beneath the flagstones. Rippling slightly in the irregularities of the water was an image of Sezithorum’s ritual room. The old wizard stood with his arms raised. His mouth moved, but there was no sound other than the toneless drone of the water falling.

    A short distance in front of the wall was a large bulbous cushion, upholstered in dark red velvet, with a sort of pedestal in the center. Bent over the pedestal, facing the wall of water, was a woman approaching her sixth decade of life, gray streaking her tight light brown curls. Her lips moved continuously, though no sound was audible. A robust man half her age stood behind her, gripping her hips and pounding her violently. She paid no heed, however, her attention entirely focused on the representation before her.

    The room was circular, and much bigger than Sezithorum’s ritual room. The floor was made of flagstones mortared together and polished to a perfectly flat, level surface by centuries of feet. The diameter of the circle in the center of the room was similar to that Tiska had inscribed the day before, but there was much more space surrounding the circle, and many more people occupying that space.

    The main entrance to the chamber was in the north wall, and above it protruded a balcony, upon which stood the second most imposing person in the room. Kel stood tall in a black silk robe, tied tightly around her waist. As was her custom, her robe was wrapped tightly, crossing high on her chest, just below her collarbones. She revealed no cleavage at all, although it was clear from her profile that she had plenty to show, should she so choose. Her long, wavy blond hair cascaded down her back, and her bright blue eyes flickered all around the room, keeping constant track of everything that transpired. She looked very young to have such a strong aura of power and respect surrounding her.

    Below her and to either side, a handful of men and women of various ages stood watching. Some masturbated, some touched each other, but all were nude, and all were visibly aroused.

    Scattered within the circle were three pairs of men on more cushions. One man pummeled his partner from behind, while the other two pairs had one partner lying on his back with his legs elevated, and his partner lying half on top of him.

    In the center of the room, slowly revolving and squeezing her nipples, stood the clear director of the pageant. As she turned, surveying her meddle-fueled servants, her roseate lips smiled and her scarlet tongue generated a series of magical syllables that no human mouth could produce. Her crimson hair was collected in a bundle at the base of her skull, and her eyes took on a ruby glow as the charm built up within her. She stopped rotating when she once again faced the likeness in the waterfall, now showing Roji mounting Tiska.

    To her right, the man on top reached orgasm and filled his partner with charm. As soon as he had finished gushing, he dismounted and left the circle, to be immediately replaced by a woman. She lay down on the cushion, and the man who had just received the charm mounted her.

    The red ball of fire in the center, known only as “Mistress,” nodded and grinned, broadly but without humor, as the air around her became more and more charged with charm. One hand glided down across her belly, the fingers brushing through the patch of wispy, flamelike pubic hair, and began massaging the sensitive prominence beneath. Without stopping her chant, she motioned with her other hand toward the waiting bystanders. From the balcony, Kel barked, “The chair! Now!”

    Several people carried a small structure into the room and set it in the center of the circle. It was a sort of chaise, with an especially wide area surrounded by extra flanges at one end, and a narrow protrusion at the other. Its padding was sporadic, but all to design.

    Mistress walked around to the wide base of the chair. As they were filing back out of the circle, she touched the arm of one of the men who had carried it in. A large, heavily-muscled, brown-skinned man from the south, she motioned him to stay. He was already erect and oozing, stimulated by the events around them, and eagerly stepped behind her as she crawled up onto the chair on her hands and knees. She reached between her legs and stroked his tool, nestling it between her lips and sliding its length along her furrow, rubbing past her sensitive hillock as it moved.

    He was impatient to get on with it, but knew better than to take charge over her. Even in such an inherently subordinate position, she was still Mistress. She grasped his shaft and rubbed its tip against her clitoris, teasing both of them. Then, still chanting those impossible words, she set his head at her entrance, and pressed backwards. He moaned and took the cue, grasping her hips and pulling slowly backwards, sliding in, deeper, deeper, until he thought he’d never hit bottom.

    When he finally did, she reached a hand back and touched his hip, holding him in place as she worked her internal muscles, swirling, grinding, clenching, and releasing, more tricks no human could ever hope to learn. His head lolled backwards and he moaned again, trying desperately to hold off as long as possible, both to build up more charm for her sake, which would prove his usefulness to her, as well as to simply draw out the pleasure a bit more.

    She released his hip and rocked forward again, then back. Once again, he took the cue, and began thrusting into her, letting her set the pace. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, synchronizing it with his thrusting, and trying to let the charm flow through him, but to no avail. He gripped her hips tighter, and increased his pace and force as he felt his orgasm approaching. Her chanting rose in a crescendo as his thrusting mounted, becoming a screech as he exploded within her, the charm draining from him, spurt by spurt.

    The endless string of sounds quieted and stopped completely as his twitches faded. She pushed him gently backward, then turned to lick every last drop of charm from his trembling rod. A moment later she pulled away, and he exited the circle. Seeing him leaving, one of the men within the circle stood up and disengaged from his partner. Mistress saw him approaching, followed by the woman. She grinned again. The time was nearing, and she was already feeling the glow of that first load of charm that had been deposited within her.

    The man ministering to the voyeur finally could hold out no longer and slammed into her a few last times, each accompanied by a wave of fluid and a grunt. Her chanting wavered slightly, along with the figures on the wall. She recovered, and the image solidified. It was even more vibrant now, displaying Sezithorum positioning himself between Tiska’s legs. A moment later, the man collapsed next to her on the cushion, and almost immediately the figures began fading.

    “Ferl, get over there and get that window back up!” Kel snapped. One of the standbys jumped to attention and rushed around the outside of the room to stand behind her. One of the voyeur’s hands went to her clitoris to stabilize the spell, while the other hand tried to line his mast up with her opening. An instant later she gasped as he sunk in. The picture wavered again with the pause in her incantation, then settled back into focus.

    In the center of the circle, Mistress ignored all of this. She rolled over and laid on her back, her head on the narrow extension at the upper end of the chair, her legs propped up and spread on the flanges protruding from either side of the base. The man said nothing, merely positioned himself and began thrusting. The woman moved in front of Mistress’s head, and then walked backward to straddle her face. A tilt of her head brought Mistress’s tongue up to the woman’s clitoris, and she licked furiously. The woman screamed and her knees gave way. For an instant her entire weight rested on Mistress’s face, but it made no difference. Mistress’s tongue was powerful enough to continue working without pause.

    She reached up with a hand and inserted two fingers into the woman, touching the sensitive area on the anterior wall of her very juicy cavern, which elicited another scream and very nearly made her legs collapse a second time. The man at Mistress’s other end continued pounding, his eyes fixed on her fingers disappearing into the woman.

    It didn’t take long before the woman hit her limit and began shaking and screaming continuously. Mistress redoubled her efforts with her tongue and inserted a third finger, which finally caused the screamer to burst. She sat down on Mistress’s shoulders, her thighs trembling, a fountain of fluid gushing from her. Mistress continued moving her fingers, trapped as they were beneath the woman, and lifted her head to catch as much of the fluid as possible in her mouth.

    Jet after jet of ejaculate squirted out of the woman, accompanied by surge after surge of charm, spreading throughout the room. That new influx pushed the man over the edge too, and he emptied himself as well, of charm and semen, into Mistress’s other end.

    As the fluid spurted into her, Mistress could clearly differentiate his own charm from the charm given him by his first partner, as well as that of the woman who had just orgasmed in front of him, and whose charm he had absorbed just from being so near her. Then there was the charm Mistress had received directly from the woman, smeared over her face and in her mouth, and that of Mistress’s first partner, still distinctly perceptible, despite already diffusing throughout her body. And scattered throughout all of it was the faint undertone of the meddle that was energizing everyone and allowing their charm to flow more freely.

    Mistress reveled in it. She smiled again, her eyes glowing an even brighter red now. As both of the now-spent participants exited the circle unsteadily, another of the couples fornicating nearby disengaged from each other and approached Mistress.

    Suddenly the water image disintegrated in a swirl of colors. “Theb, what happened?” Kel shouted across the room.

    The voyeur didn’t respond, except to grit her teeth and concentrate harder on her incantation. Ferl turned his head and shouted back, “Nothing, still going!”

    “Stupid Iltarian brother-banging miscarriage,” Kel muttered. The colors danced for a moment before gradually organizing again, showing Tiska on her knees with the old wizard behind her. The colors still weren’t quite right, and they continued to pulse and waver, but the image held.

    In the center of the circle, the second woman was grunting and squirting all over Mistress’s face, and the second man was dismounting. The third man was ready to step into position, with his partner standing near Mistress’s head, one hand buried between her legs.

    Mistress could feel seven humans worth of charm flowing through her now, circulating and blending, but each still distinct and recognizable. And there was another one, carrying two additional loads, now wildly flailing at her crotch, and one more getting into position astride her face. Her eyes were actually radiant now, the red light illuminating the woman’s thighs and abdomen as she settled into position.

    The picture in the water fuzzed again, then evaporated completely, replaced by vertical stripes of various colors. Theb screamed and convulsed, her limbs jerking spastically. Her flailing motions pulled her away from her partner, and she collapsed on the cushion next to the pedestal.

    Kel turned various shades of red and purple. She spoke softly to the servant standing just behind her shoulder. “As soon as this is over, lock that useless whore up. Mistress will deal with her.”

    “Yes, lady.”

    The stench of sex saturated the room, and as the flush of fury slowly receded, Kel realized for the first time that she had become aroused by the proceedings below. No, that was only half of it. It was the wave of rage that had gotten her loins vibrating. The corners of her mouth twisted. Maybe Mistress would allow her to punish Theb.

    Mistress could see the voyeur and the color bars from her position between the third woman’s legs, and became worried for the first time. The window of time during which Sezithorum was vulnerable was closing. The connection was still there, she could still feel Theb’s link to Sezithorum, even if there was no signal coming through anymore. She must finish the casting immediately, before the portal closed; there would be plenty of time later to discipline Theb for her failure. She added a third finger to probe the woman’s prostate, and actively clenched her own vaginal muscles, attempting to accelerate both orgasms, and with good results. Presently both of them were spraying her with their juices, and filling her with their charm as well.

    “Ferl, to me!” she shouted, her head still between the woman’s legs. She pushed both of her most recent partners away, and rolled back to her hands and knees. Ferl had still been standing near Theb, unsure what to do, but he moved quickly at Mistress’s summons, and immediately buried himself inside her.

    She resumed her vocalizations, and drew upon all of the charm now amassed within her. She carefully molded the energy, precisely positioned the components, meticulously aimed the force. She diligently nursed her own orgasm, contriving to make it coincide with Ferl’s, even as she fought and worked all of her tricks to cause him to erupt. He slammed her furiously, but he was getting no closer.

    She reached between her legs to cup his sack, and extended her middle finger to push against his nether opening, all the while breathing deeper and deeper, her voice rising in volume while dropping in pitch, until it sounded like an ogre gargling around a mouthful of rocks.

    She alternately squeezed and released her fingers, working the middle one deeper into his anus. Finally, his pace slowed and she could feel his pouch contracting, his shaft pulsing within her. With that ultimate signal, she pushed her own climax over the edge. As he burst and released his charm into her, she used that discharge to ignite her own compressed charm, which detonated the spell she had so carefully crafted.

    A thunderclap filled the room, and its deafening echoes continued to reverberate off of the stone walls. The concussion wave had knocked Ferl to the ground unconscious. Kel looked on with envy as Mistress’s spasms continued interminably. She grunted and writhed, knocked halfway off of her special chair by the force of her jerking. Slowly, gradually, the convulsions faded, and she lay still for a long time.

    When Mistress was finally able to move, she crawled to the floor and sat cross-legged. In front of her, on the floor between her chair and the cushion where Theb still lay, four manacles had been laid out, apparently unconnected to anything. Now, however, they were connected to Sezithorum’s limbs, restraining him.

    She slowly got to her feet and strutted toward him, her hips undulating. Thin streams and thick globs of fluid made their way down each muscular leg. She stood between his knees, gazing disdainfully down at him. He looked around wildly, desperately, eyes wide. His mouth was open, but fixed, unmoving, and no sound emanated. “Welcome, Sezithorum,” she purred. “It’s so good to see you again.”

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