MASTERY

SEX WIZARDS

ALETHEA FAUST

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 Alethea Faust, LLC

All rights reserved.

Cover art by Jo O’Brien

Edited by Rebecca Scott

Formatting by BreathlessLit

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

2022 has been a roller coaster, y’all. The outpouring of support and love that Initiation has received has seriously blown me away, and I’m so excited to share this newest adventure with you. But first, I need to give some much needed thanks to the people who helped get me to this point.

First off, I owe Katie from @diktokpod on Tiktok a huge, throbbing thank you. Without her videos about Initiation, I have a feeling many of you would have never found this story. Likewise, a huge thank you to Adelaide Blaike, who not only spread the good, sexy word about book 1 on social media, but became an amazing sounding board and friend in the process.

Then there’s Sierra Cassidy, my smut bestie, wholesome Canadian cheerleader, and beta reader who combed through all 115k of this book and pointed out all the ways it could be better. Likewise, a huge thank you to Sax Mahoney for finding holes in my kink logic while also making sure that everything in this book stayed risk-aware and consensual. Then there’s the capybara of chaos, Vera Valentine, who seriously deserves an award. Not only is she an amazing community leader among us smut-peddlers, but she also read a couple of choice scenes from this book with the sole purpose of giving the all-consent clear while simultaneously talking me out of my anxiety. And lastly, a huge thank you to Mila Sin and Manuela Rouget for their support, humor, and infectious enthusiasm. I’m so glad that even though we live on different sides of the country (and in some cases, the globe) that I’ve gotten to know you all.

Then there’s the particular type of friends who not only don’t judge me for my smut-peddling ways but actively celebrate it. So thank you Kirren, Katie, Peter, Kryssi, and the rest of the Knights, as well as Bonnie and Christina for suffering through my various rants and ravings without so much as a blush.

As always, a huge thank you to my partner Geo. Without his humor, support, and perfect ass, neither Dom nor Olbric would exist. And to Jo, whose sparkly, gay cover art is the perfect face for this story.

Then there’s Rebecca Scott, grammar goddess, Oxford comma stan, and friend who once again did the extra hard work of delving through this monster of a book to find all those little errors my dyslexic brain just can’t see. This book was tossed at her with a much shorter timeline than Initiation, but she still came through like the hero she is. To learn more about her talents and how she can help your writing endeavors, visit her website at: www.bee-scott.com/proofreading

Last, but certainly not least, a huge thank you to my readers. To everyone who has reached out to me, tagged me on social media, left ratings and reviews, you are the fuel to my fire. Thank you so, so much for your support, but a special thank you to B Scott, LBMatt, botanicalmysts, R’lee, SortaVulcan, Lila, Ace_Of_Clubs, Matt, Cheryl Terra, “Cancassi’s Favorite,” Azamir, Nora, HypnoStory, Peter, B.K., Melody Diaz-Musgrave, Jaye-Anne, Kate W, Anna Lea, Kristen, Jessica Syring, Charlie Osborne, Nicole Wurster, Jayne Fowler, Tyler Rose, Veronica Alvarez, Mila Sin, Gale B, Hadlee, Heat, Anna Slayton, Alex M., Sax Mahoney, @lupaescosces on Tiktok, Liz Lane, Jen B, Saibh, Annie Lynch, Read, Psy, Kathryn Noelle, Deimos B., Cassandra Baqir, Jessa Monroe, Brock Mason, Alex, Cait Fallows, DevilAlice, Carmel, Mady, Nilas Simonsen, Eliza Eveland, Emily, Julchen, Michelle, Lisa G., Jessi Larkins, Tesla Rue, Ashley Nebula, and the rest of my Patrons who have supported me with patience and grace while I got this book together.

Your wait for the next installment is almost over!

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This queer erotic fantasy novel has a kink-based magic system, and as such, contains explicit adult content. As this story crosses a wide range of kinks of varying degrees of intensity, applicable chapters will have a description at the top showing what type of play is included in the chapter as well as any other applicable warnings.

PREVIOUSLY

Dominai was a poor hunter and forest guide when the wizard Allisande hired him to guide her through the dangerous woods of the Hobokin Mountains. During their journey, after one passionate night spent together under the stars, Allisande revealed that Dom had magic in his bloodline and wrote him a letter of introduction to the Crux, the center of magical study in the kingdom of Straetham. But it wasn’t until an accident broke his arm and robbed him of his ability to hunt that Dominai finally left his home and old life behind in search of a new one at the Crux.

But magical study was a far cry from the dusty tomes and rituals he expected. Instead, it was learning the surrender of rope bondage with the wizard Galiva, and exploring the pleasure in pain with the evoker Olbric. He was taught the power of denial by the Grandmaster of the Crux, Arlon, as well as the abandon of transmutation with the intersex Maeve, Cancassi. He even experienced miracles when Galiva used corpimancy to heal the injury in his arm that had driven him from his old life as a hunter.

But divination is where Dominai excelled. After learning that Allisande, the woman responsible for changing the course of his life, had gone missing along with three other Crux wizards, he had a vision of her. One that confirmed that she was still alive but was being held against her will by unknown assailants. Yet it wasn’t until Dominai helped Galiva overcome her fear of the divining silver that they learned who was behind these disappearances: Diran Barclay, a disgraced wizard who had been expelled from the Crux for assaulting and raping a fellow wizard.

Meanwhile, Olbric had been sent out on what was supposed to be a low-risk assignment to provide security to the Black Burrow mines in the Hobokins. It proved to be anything but when he was attacked and overwhelmed by the same rogue wizards who had kidnapped Allisande. He would have become yet another name to add to the list of missing wizards, but Dominai saw the attack happen while divining, and immediately alerted the Grandmaster.

With no time to spare, Arlon gathered a retinue to travel to the Black Burrows in hopes of picking up Olbric’s trail. After reaching the mine, they learned from the miners that the rogue wizards weren’t after the mine’s gold, but instead had stolen a vein of magiline, the rare and valuable stone used by wizards to store magic. Fortunately, with the help of the half-orc, Garrett, Dominai was able to find Olbric’s trail. It led them further into the mountains where they ran across Diran’s mercenary, Isa, who informed them under the thrall of magic that their missing wizards were being held in an old goblin hovel further up the hill.

Dominai and the Crux wizards infiltrated Diran’s secret hideout where they found Olbric, Allisande, a kidnapped Tinari woman named Orabelle, and the other missing wizards, scarred from their time in the cave, but alive. In the heat of the altercation, two of the rogue wizards were killed and another two captured, but their victory was not without a cost. Cancassi was mortally wounded during the encounter, Dominai barely escaped with his life, and instead of facing his fate, Diran Barclay fled with a teleportation spell and escaped. The group was able to return to the Crux with the two captured enemy wizards, Lucien and Jaret, in tow.

For his role in uncovering the rogue wizard’s treachery and helping Galiva back into the silver, Dominai earned his divination mastery. And only then was he able to accept that he wasn’t just welcome at the Crux, he had found a home in it.

Six months later…

1

CASTING BLOCK

Abjuration is a versatile school, one that is considered fundamental for any wizard pursuing multiple masteries. The spells produced from rope bondage can be used to contain or expel, block or bar. Using more constricting ties, more complicated knots, and adding elements of suspension can all vary the strength and power of a spell.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

The quiet creak of the ropes is an oddly peaceful sound. The casting room is warm and cozy, the afternoon sun streaming in through the window to make a puddle on the floor. I lay right in the center of it and pillow my hands under my head as I look up to admire my handiwork.

It’s a hell of a view.

The neat harness of white ropes contrasts nicely where they bite against Galiva’s brown skin. Her eyes are closed, face serene, head hanging low as she sways gently. Even her breathing is even and deep, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was asleep. With the long hours she’s been pulling at the clinic, I’m glad to give her a bit of a rope break.

Not to mention, it’s a pretty great time for me, too. Galiva’s so godsdamned beautiful that I’m having a hard time looking away from her. And with her trussed up as she is, I get to stare all I like.

Her arms are folded and tied behind her back, but I was careful when I did it. I made sure not to tie the ropes over any pressure points or put any undue stress on her shoulders. All the ropes attach to two sturdy metal rings that I used to cinch her up about three feet off of the ground.

I reach up with my foot and give her a gentle nudge to get her swaying again. Her brown eyes open and meet mine, a contented haze relaxing her face. I smile at her obvious enjoyment.

“Having fun?” I ask as I continue to rock her.

“Mmhmm.”

Leisurely, I reach up and tug at one of her perky brown nipples. Framed by the ropes, her breasts look incredible.

“How’s your neck? Want me to rig a sheet up to support your head?” It’s the only part of her that isn’t supported. I’m not about to wrap ropes around her throat, but a sheet or scarf could be a nice hammock for her head.

“You worry too much,” she says. “Rope suspension can only be so comfortable.”

“You’re the one who drilled that worry into me,” I point out. “All that talk about nerve damage and strangulation, straight up dropping someone on their head -”

“Alright, alright,” Galiva chuckles and lets her head hang down again. “I appreciate that you’re careful, but I’m fine, I promise.”

“Good,” I say and still her gentle swing. “Ready to come down?”

Galiva gives me a thoughtful look. “I know this was just supposed to be rope practice, but your rig is solid. I think you’re ready to cast.”

I blink up at her in surprise. In the past six months, Galiva and Olbric have tried to ease me into casting. Abjuration spells, for the most part. Between the shifts she’s taken at the medical clinic in town, Galiva’s been nice enough to let me use her for some higher caliber rope practice, but I’ve never actually cast a mastery level spell like this.

The idea sends a thrill of excitement through me, but worry comes hot on its tail. “You’re sure?” I ask as I stroke my thumb over her bottom lip. I like the idea of casting, but the nerves are hard to shake. I almost wish she’d say no.

Galiva pulls my thumb into her mouth and sucks, swirling her tongue around my digit. It sends a throb of heat straight to my groin, and when she opens her eyes again, they smolder. “Do I look like a wizard who’s unsure?”

“Nope,” I say, my breath catching. “Seem pretty damn sure.”

I prop myself up on my elbows to capture her lips with a kiss. Her chuckle quickly fades to a moan, and I swallow her quiet whimper of need as I drag her lower lip gently through my teeth. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about casting with Galiva in the past few months, it’s that once she’s tied, it doesn’t take much to get her riled up.

Truth be told, I’m nervous as hell, but I don’t want to disappoint her. I roll out from under her and scramble to my feet. My heart thuds anxiously as I recheck my rig. I’m careful as I grab the anchor rope and draw her up to a good height before securing it through the ring set into the floor.

I give her a little spin and can’t stop a grin when I see that both her mouth and slit are at the right height for me. She squeals, but I stop her before she can get too dizzy.

“That’s rude,” she chuckles, yet when I reach between her legs, she gasps.

Her slit is already dripping, and I smirk as I push two fingers into her. Galiva gives an eager moan as she wiggles her hips as best as she’s able, begging with everything but words. It’s sexy as hell, and I can’t help but indulge her.

I let her ride my fingers for a bit as I tease that sweet spot inside of her. When I slide my fingers free, the noise she makes is pure disappointment. She only has herself to blame, really - she’s the one who taught me what it is to tease someone to desperation.

I lick my fingers clean as I circle around to the front of her. The taste of her makes my cock swell in my trousers, and she lifts her head to watch me. I smile before I slide my cleaned fingers through her curly black hair, gripping gently at the roots to help her keep her head up.

“Help a friend out?” I ask as I release my cock.

Galiva smirks up at me as she opens her mouth. I thrust in, and her tongue immediately starts to work around me. I grab the ropes with my free hand to pull her closer, easing more of my length into the accommodating heat of her mouth. She feels incredible, yet when I hear her quiet gag, I immediately draw back out.

“Alright?” I ask.

“Did you see any thumbs going up?” she asks, wiggling her fingers at me.

“No.”

“And did you hear me stop?”

“No.”

“Then hurry up and face-fuck me already.”

“Fuck - alright, alright! Impatient conduit!”

I use the ropes to guide her back onto my length, thrusting shallowly. She moans before her throat loosens to accommodate me. I seat myself deep, feeling her nose brush my stomach. The wet, welcoming heat of her is nearly my undoing. My cock slips out of her mouth before she sets me off. Her head hangs with a quiet whimper, and when I tilt her chin up, I’m greeted by her hazy smile.

Gods, she’s beautiful when she falls into it. That face never ceases to send a thrill through me. Not only is this powerful wizard trusting me enough to cast, she’s relaxed enough to give control fully over to me. Yet at the same time, it always makes me extra aware of the responsibility that comes with casting. The weight of it settles onto my shoulders even as it softens my length a little. I handle her more gently as I move behind her.

I grab the bottle of lotion from my pocket before going to the cabinet to grab a string of five round focuses. I slick them before I spread Galiva’s cheeks and ease them into her, one by one. She shivers as they settle in her ass, and I can’t help but give the string a tug, threatening to pull one back out. I’m rewarded with her whimper of need.

It’s ambitious - I don’t think I’ve charged more than two focuses on lower caliber spells, but maybe this one will be different. Galiva is well and worked up, and I’ve got just the thing to keep her that way.

I reach into my pocket and pull out an oblong focus that’s charged with a lower caliber evocation. I’d accidentally stolen it from Margeurite during one of our divination sessions, but fortunately the ovisari doesn’t seem in a hurry to get it back. As soon as I touch it, it starts to vibrate between my fingers.

Galiva shivers as I trail it up between her legs. “Oh fuck, please,” she moans as she writhes in the ropes. I brush the focus through her folds before I settle it against the hood of her clit. She shouts her gratitude, tensing under the onslaught of sensation, her body shaking with need.

I swear quietly, transfixed by the sight of her. Even bound and quivering, she’s beautiful. Maybe especially bound and quivering. I roll the buzzer around and smile as she jerks and wiggles, helpless in the ropes.

Casting divination has given me a knack for reading people, and I watch her closely to make sure the vibrations don’t get to be too much. I see the telltale tensing of her muscles, the way she bites her lip, and roll the buzzer off of her. Her throaty wail of disappointment is like music to my ears. The ropes keep her legs spread, and I barely brush the tip of my cock against her wet entrance to tease her. The promise of her willing heat perks me right back up, but I don’t push in yet.

“Dom, please!” she begs as she squirms in her ropes, trying to coax me in.

It works. I slide into her with a groan, and she replies with a simpering moan of pleasure. Her walls clench around me, and I can tell she’s already close. I glide deep into the wet heat of her, giving a few experimental thrusts. She feels incredible, and I grab the ropes before pulling her onto me, snapping my hips to meet her.

Galiva wails, and I keep the pace up for a minute before I pull out to let her cool down a bit. Though if I’m being honest, it’s a necessary cool down for me, too. She wiggles her hips in invitation, and I can’t help but give her ass a gentle swat before I thrust deep again.

She gives a mewl of pleasure, but when I reach around and put the buzzer against her clit again, it turns to a scream. I speed up and my free hand holds the ropes for leverage, my hips bumping hers with every hard thrust.

Her orgasm builds slow, and I feel it as she tenses. When it crashes over her, she jerks in the ropes, her hips bucking against the little buzzer. She wails, throwing her head back as her body shudders in pleasure. I don’t let her finish before I bury myself in her, let go of the ropes, find the string of focuses, and pull. Galiva’s moan rattles out of her, her body jerking as each marble pops out.

I swear as my own end comes. I manage one more thrust before my cock empties into her, filling her willing slit. A moan makes it past my pursed lips as I rest my head against the ropes.

For a second, I just stay there as we both pant in the afterglow. It takes a minute to get myself together before I ease out of her. She yelps as the last focus slips free, but my pleasant buzz disappears when I only see two of the five glowing. I sigh and wrap them with a handkerchief before storing them in my pocket.

“You’re alright?” I ask.

Galiva chuckles, and satisfaction layers her voice as she says, “Fantastic.”

I muster a smile as I go about freeing her. I untie her arms first out of habit - if something goes wrong, at least she’ll have some freedom to brace herself. Not that anything does. Even if I’m a dud at casting, I sure have gotten good at rigging.

Carefully, I lower her feet down and help steady her as she wavers. I make quick work of freeing the rest of her from the rig before I start to unwind the rope harnesses. It takes a few long minutes to get it all off but when I do, Galiva drapes her arms around my shoulders and kisses my cheek.

I smile as I return the embrace. She always gets cuddly after conduiting, and I’m happy to indulge. I guide her over to the comfortable chair in the corner and pull her onto my lap. She settles against me, face nuzzled into the crook of my neck as I rub at the rope marks on her arms. For a while, I just hold her and let her ease back into herself.

When her eyes are a little clearer, she looks up at me and asks, “How’d we do?”

I fish the focuses out of my pocket and fold the handkerchief back. Two of them skitter with light, but the other three remain dim and uncharged. Galiva frowns as she looks at them. I pinch one of the glowing ones between my fingers.

“That’s a fucking mastery level spell, yet they still feel weak,” I say through a sigh.

Galiva takes one of the focuses and rolls it in her palm. “You’re right,” she says, sounding perplexed. “It sure felt like it was strong.”

“It definitely wasn’t you,” I mutter. “I’m just… not right for casting. Maybe I should stick to being a conduit.”

Galiva scowls, her nose brushing my collar. “You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re a quick learner, but when all is said and done, you’re still new at this.”

I tighten my grip on her with a sigh, but she tilts my chin so she can catch my lips.

“Don’t get discouraged. You’ll get there.”

I muster a smile. “I hope you’re right.”

Once Galiva is well taken care of, I head up to Olbric’s room. The magical lock on his door clicks open as I approach - a modification he made a few months ago - but I still knock before coming in.

Olbric’s at his desk, round spectacles low on his nose as he takes notes from a tome of a book. His long black hair is tied away from his pretty face, and in the past few months it’s only gotten longer, hanging nearly halfway down his back. He looks at me over the tops of his glasses as I flop onto his unmade bed.

“Rope practice went that bad, huh?” he asks.

I scowl and bury my face into his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent. “Rope practice was great, but then Galiva said I should try to cast. Casting spells is like toffee apples - it’s never bad. I’m just terrible at trying to make it.”

“You’re not terrible at it,” Olbric says, and his chair creaks as he reclines. “Did you have a good time?”

I sigh and roll onto my back, dragging my fingers through my hair. “I guess? I dunno. Casting is weird for me.”

Olbric turns around in his chair, his arms resting over the backrest as he gives me his full attention. “Weird how?”

I scrub my hand over my face. “I don’t know how to explain it,” I mutter at last. “I feel like I’m doing everything right. The rig was good, my knots were perfect, Galiva was having a good time, and yet this is all I got out of it.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the two cleaned focuses. Usually you’re supposed to divvy the spells out, with any odd focuses going to the Crux’s stores, but Galiva let me keep both.

Olbric takes them and rolls them in his palm. “You were doing rope suspension?” I nod and Olbric hums thoughtfully. “It’s definitely a diminished output for a spell of that caliber,” he says with a puzzled frown.

“Do you notice anything when I’ve cast with you?” I ask. “Am I… doing something wrong?”

Olbric shakes his head as he hands the focuses back. “Not that I’ve been able to tell.” His grin turns sly. “Though if you’re wanting to try again, you know I’m certainly willing. You still haven’t tried casting evocation.”

I groan and bury my face into his pillow. As much as I enjoy evocation, I haven’t touched casting it. Every time I even think about it, it makes me uneasy. I’m quick to change the subject.

“Any headway on your transmutation spell?” I ask. Ever since he was overwhelmed outside of the Black Burrows by Diran Barclay and the other rogue wizards, Olbric’s taken a step back from evocation. Instead, he’s turned his sights onto a transmutation mastery.

“Some, I think.” He frowns at the notes on his desk. “After talking to Cancassi, I think I have an idea for the spell I want to develop.”

“Yeah?”

“But I’m not telling you a thing about it until it’s ready,” he says resolutely. “Though once it is, I’d love for you to help me test it before I take it to Arlon. If I have the nerve to take it to Arlon, that is.”

“Oh, so you’re fine to cast it with me, but not with him?” I chuckle.

“Arlon is intimidating to cast with! You got lucky getting around it for your divination mastery,” he says. “You, though - you’re easy to debase.”

I laugh and grab one of his pillows to chuck at his head. “Rude!”

Olbric’s chair scrapes against the floor before he’s on me, pinning my hands over my head. “And you love every second of it,” he growls playfully before nipping my neck.

I bite back a moan, but can’t deny that he’s right. “Maybe I should just conduit. I’ve got one mastery. Maybe that’s enough.”

Olbric soothes the spot he bit with a gentle kiss. “Even though I think you’ll be great at it, there’s no rule saying you have to cast,” he points out. “But I think you should take this to Arlon. I’m sure he’d be able to give you some advice.”

Heat floods my face at the thought of it. “I can’t talk to Arlon about this.”

Olbric catches my lips. “Dom, I went to Arlon my first month here after I lost a focus in me,” he says. “Your casting block has got nothing on that.”

I chuckle and let my head flop against his bed in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

My heart is in my throat as I approach Arlon’s office. Yet when I reach it, his door is closed. I settle against a spot on the wall to wait and try my best not to eavesdrop, but Allisande doesn’t make it easy.

“- won’t even let me try!” Her voice is raised in anger, loud enough to make it through the big wooden door.

Arlon’s reply is quiet, but as I inch closer to the door, I hear something that sounds like “breach of trust.”

“- like you trusted my cousin?”

I frown at that. I’m not sure what her cousin the King has to do with anything. But her next words are clear as day. “Jaret and Lucien are being held in the palace keep. If I could get close to them, I know I could get more information. They have to know where Diran is.”

My stomach sinks. With our divinations turning up so little about her captor’s whereabouts, I can’t blame her for wanting to try other methods. Arlon’s reply is calm, though it’s quiet enough that I can’t catch it. Whatever he said is apparently the wrong answer for Allisande, because she storms from his office a moment later in a whirlwind of black robes, fiery red hair, and indignation.

She catches sight of me on her way out and says, “Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

I watch her retreating back before slipping through Arlon’s door. The Grandmaster is seated behind his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering look on his face. He’s started keeping his dark beard trimmed short over his strong jaw, though, just like the hair on his head, parts of it are streaked with gray. I’ll admit it’s a good look for him. Even annoyed, he makes a handsome picture.

“I can come back,” I offer.

“No, it’s fine. So long as you’re not here to talk about committing potentially treasonous acts.” He sighs and waves me further in.

I close the door behind me and can’t help but chuckle. “No, sir. No treason today.”

Arlon gives me a close-lipped smile. “Then what does bring you in?”

My face gets hot before I even start. “I’m… having some trouble with casting.” I approach his desk, pulling out mine and Galiva’s spells. “I tried casting a mastery level abjuration spell with Galiva yesterday. It went well, but this is all we got out of it.”

Arlon takes the cleaned focuses and rolls them between his fingers. “There’s barely a hint of your energy in here.” At my look, he raises an eyebrow, a shadow of a grin crossing his face. “When you’ve cast as many spells as I have, you start to feel the difference.”

I sit down in the chair across from him with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I did everything by the book, yet every spell I cast ends up like this.”

“It’s not uncommon for the most willing conduits to have trouble casting,” Arlon says. “Rest assured, you are not the first person to have this problem. I’d wager that most who study at the Crux come in with a natural predisposition for either casting or conduiting, though in some of us, that predisposition is stronger.”

He sets the focuses on his desk, a fond look crossing his face. “I remember Garrett was in a similar situation to yours when he first started casting, whereas I had the opposite problem. It took me some time to be humble enough to be an effective conduit.”

“Garrett had trouble casting?” That revelation surprises me just as much as the revelation about Arlon doesn’t. The half-orc doesn’t seem like one who’d have an issue with casting.

“It was quite a block he had to overcome,” Arlon says. “I wish he was in Straetham for you to talk to, but he’s in the Eastern Reach helping with the aftermath of an earthquake. He’s not scheduled to be back for another couple of weeks.”

I sigh and drum my fingers on his desk. I feel a little better knowing that I’m not the only one who’s had trouble. “Do you know how he got past it?”

Arlon smiles, and it’s one of the few times I’ve seen him do it when he’s not planning something particularly sadistic. “The same way I got past my own. When we were adepts, the Grandmaster of the Crux was a wizard by the name of Fawn Maitre, and she saw our unique situations as a learning opportunity.”

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, a fond look on his face. “She collared us both for a week. Seeing Garrett’s perfect submission helped me understand how to embrace my own, whereas I think he was so focused on Fawn that he learned something of how to channel his own dominance.”

I have a hard time picturing Arlon conduiting, though the thought of it makes an errant shiver rush over my skin. “What does collaring mean?” I ask, though I’ve been around the Crux long enough to have an idea.

Arlon looks at me thoughtfully. “It’s the opposite of marking you as a target. When a wizard is collared, it means that they’re unavailable for casting save for whoever collared them. It can be used for any school, but it’s very effective with enchantment and some of the more subtle abjuration spells. A collared wizard is at the beck and call of whoever has collared them, for both casting and non-casting requirements. It’s a high protocol submission for a set period of time.”

I remember reading about protocol in one of my abjuration books. From what I understand, it means that the caster sets stricter rules and requirements on a conduit to elevate the efficacy of a spell before, during, and even after casting. It also entails punishments for breaking those rules. It’s no one-afternoon thing, and I can’t deny that I like the idea of it.

Arlon seems to read my mind. “Would you like to try? It’s been some time since I’ve collared anyone, and with no one currently petitioning for mastery, now is a good time for me to do so.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as I mull it over, a knot of anticipation forming in my gut. If it could help me get through this casting block, maybe it’d be worth it. “How do stops work while collared?”

Arlon looks pleased by the question. “If you call a stop, then the protocol is dropped for us to talk and renegotiate. Depending on what you decide, we can re-establish protocol under new parameters, or we can drop it all together. The conduit always has the final say.”

I lean back in my chair as I consider it. The idea of being under Arlon’s control for a whole week sounds as daunting as it sounds interesting. What goes into a day for the Grandmaster of the Crux?

“I’m interested,” I say at last. “Let’s talk.”

A bit of excitement is hidden in Arlon’s normally stoic face. He looks me over, sizing me up. “Does a full week sound like too much?”

“A week sounds fine,” I say. I’ll have to let Margeurite and Allis know that I won’t be able to make our usual divination date this week, but they’ll understand. We’ve been trying to divine information about Diran Barclay with no luck, and I think all three of us are feeling burnt out on it. The break might do us good.

“Good,” Arlon says. “Are there any schools you don’t want me casting?”

Negotiations used to feel so awkward. Laying out what I wanted and what I was okay with was difficult at first, but in the past six months at the Crux, I’ve had to get used to it.

“Corpimancy is a soft limit,” I say. I’ve only ever done it with Galiva, and as much as I trust Arlon, I’m not sure if I want him putting needles through me quite yet.

“Any hard limits?” Arlon asks.

“No canes,” I say immediately. Olbric discovered they were not my brand of pain pretty quick, and he’d spent the rest of the night apologizing while kissing every welt on me.

“What about mastery level spells?” Arlon asks. “I’ll admit, I usually don’t collar anyone who’s been here less than a year, but you’ve demonstrated a willingness for all schools, so I’m making an exception.”

I rub the back of my neck as I think about that. Mastery level abjuration, illusion, and transmutation don’t scare me. Conjuration shouldn’t be an issue because mastery level spells usually just involve a longer period of chastity. Even high level evocation can be fine as long as the canes don’t come out.

“Mastery level enchantment scares me a bit, but it’s not a limit.”

Arlon leans forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Why is that?”

My grin comes out crooked. “The overwhelm spell you all did when you made me a target is the only time I’ve ever dropped after a casting.”

“Ah.”

I shrug. “I just… haven’t quite figured out what’s too much with enchantment, I think. The mind games are tricky for me.”

“Understood,” Arlon says, though there’s a smirk already tugging at his lips. “Would you be alright with me easing you into some higher level enchantment?”

The idea of it sends a thrill of excitement up my spine. “I’m fine with that.”

I can see the ideas already running through his head. It makes my nerves thrum, because honestly, there’s not much I haven’t enjoyed conduiting for, and Arlon is a wizard who knows how to cast.

“Do you want me to tell you my ideas, or no?” he asks.

My stomach does a strange little somersault. “Surprise me.”

Arlon chuckles, and the sound of it makes the hair on my neck stand on end. “Then starting tomorrow morning at first bell, you belong to me, Dominai,” he says, voice pitched low. “Don’t be late.”

2

GO EASY

While magic is an important and worthwhile endeavor, it is important to remember that it is also very personal. The individuals involved in making magic have histories, sometimes traumatic ones, that can color their sexual experience and boundaries.

Magic Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

*Please note that this chapter contains brief mentions of sexual assault.

“Oof, you’re in for it. Being collared by Arlon is no joke.”

My stomach tightens as I watch Galiva sink further into the steaming waters of the baths.

“That doesn’t help my nerves at all.”

“Good,” Galiva counters. “I won’t give you any false expectations. Arlon will put you through it, but he’ll take good care of you. He’s a hell of a caster.”

My cock jumps with excitement at the thought. I’m not sure what all to expect tomorrow, but I’m looking forward to it all the same.

Beside me, Olbric is suspiciously quiet. He dunks his head under the water to wet his hair before resurfacing and flipping it back, his russet skin shining.

“Guess this means you won’t be available this week, then.” It’s not a question, but he sounds a bit put out all the same.

“Not while you’re wearing Arlon’s collar,” Galiva points out.

I scoot closer to Olbric and slide my hand up his thigh. “You still have me for tonight at least.”

Olbric gives a huff of a laugh. “If I have you tonight, I’ll ruin you for the rest of the week.”

“You think so?” I purr, locking eyes with him in a challenge.

A slow smirk spreads across his face as he raises an eyebrow. “Do you hear this, Galiva? It sounds like Dom is doubting that I can and will send him to Arlon spanked red and bowlegged.”

A shiver of excitement races up my spine. “I think you might have to prove it to me.”

Galiva rolls her eyes and gets to her feet, her brown skin glistening in the gentle glow of the baths. “And hopefully you won’t live to regret it,” she says before leaning down to kiss my cheek. She does the same to Olbric before pulling herself out of the pool. “Though I’m sure by around mid-afternoon tomorrow, you’re going to.”

“You sure you don’t want to help?” Olbric asks as he puts his arm around my shoulder before drawing me close.

“Absolutely not,” she says through a laugh. “I’ve got first shift in the clinic tomorrow, and in case you two didn’t notice, it’s getting late.”

Olbric’s hand glides through my hair before he tightens his grip. I yelp as he tugs me against his side, his other hand sliding around my neck even as I vainly try to squirm out of his grip.

“Ugh, you and the clinic,” he says, not even phased by my splashing. “Aren’t you getting bored with corpimancy yet?”

Galiva snorts as she grabs her towel and starts to dry off. “Even if I am, it’s necessary. Garrett’s still out East and his physicians can’t handle everything. Arlon can’t fill in, so as the Crux’s only other corpimancer, it’s my job.”

Olbric’s hand tightens gently around my throat to still my squirming. I can’t quite stop the whimper of pleasure that makes it past my lips as he says, “Aah, the curse of being naturally talented.”

Galiva chuckles as she tucks the towel around herself before gathering her clothes. “You need to go easy on him tonight.” She locks eyes with me and adds, “Believe me, you’ll be grateful tomorrow.”

My reply is cut off when Olbric tightens his grip on my throat. “I promise, I’ll only go as hard as Dom lets me,” Olbric says.

“And with how hard Dom lets you go, that’s not reassuring!” Galiva calls back as she heads towards the stairs. “Go easy, both of you!”

His hand reaches under the water to cup my swelling cock. I moan as I roll my hips, thrusting gently into his grip. His teeth are sharp against my shoulder as he loosens his hold around my neck. His voice is little more than a growl.

“Then let’s go easy.”

We do not, in fact, go easy.

The outline of Olbric’s hand is emblazoned on my skin a dozen times over by the time he gets tired. I groan as he grabs the reddened mounds of my ass, fingers digging into the sensitive skin as he spreads me. My head swims, chills razing up my back as his lotion-slick thumb teases the pucker of my entrance. He slathers my hole before his finger pushes into me.

“What do you think, Dom?” he pants, breathless with exertion. “Do you want me to go easy?”

“Fuck no,” I gasp.

He hums as the blunt head of his cock replaces his finger. I scoot my legs a little wider, trembling with anticipation only to shout when Olbric’s cock sheaths itself in me with one hard thrust. I arch, only to have Olbric catch my neck with his hand, pulling my head up.

“You know, Gal was right. It’s pretty late.” He shoves my own discarded underthings into my mouth before he forces my face down against his covers. “So try not to wake the whole evocation tower.”

My legs shake as I hold my ass up for him, my chest pressed firm to the sheets. I clench my hands around the magiline rings, feeling the focuses spark with charge. My arms are bound behind my back, and Olbric’s hand wraps around my wrists.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Dom?” he purrs as he gives a leisurely thrust.

I roll my hips to meet him, feeling every inch of his hard length as he fills me from behind. My words are garbled by the gag, but I hope my enthusiastic yes comes across all the same. He chuckles as he tightens his grip on my wrists before thrusting deep. Chills race up my spine as he drags over that sweet spot, pleasure lighting every nerve on fire. He sets a fast pace, and every bump of his hips against my heated ass makes the memory of pain spark all over again.

Drool wets my gag as I bury my face against his bed, muffling the string of moans and pleas that fall from my lips. As Olbric’s pace builds, so does the pool of heat in my stomach. My cock hangs off the edge of the bed, and I shout my gratitude when his slick hand finally wraps around it.

He strokes me in time with every thrust, and it doesn’t take me long to come completely undone. I moan against his sheets as my cock empties onto the towels we discarded after the baths. Olbric only finishes a few more thrusts before he tenses behind me, hips stuttering to a stop.

His forehead rests against my back, and I shiver as his lips brush my heated skin. For a second, we bask in the mutual pleasure as we catch our breath. After a moment, Olbric unties my wrists, and I stretch my arms out only to groan when he slides out of me.

Before I can even clean myself up, he drags me fully onto his bed, his arms wrapping around my waist. I pull my underthings from my mouth and toss them back at him. He dodges them easily even as he presses a kiss to my shoulders.

“Are you going to miss me this week?” he purrs as he spoons up behind me.

I stifle a yawn as I sink against him. “My ass won’t be able to forget you.”

He chuckles and nuzzles against the back of my neck, his arms tightening around me. I idly stroke my fingers down his arm even as a thought trickles its way into my blissed-out head. His arms loosen as I turn to face him, scooting close so I don’t fall off of the edge of his bed. I reach up to cup his cheek and his eyes slide closed, a contented smile spreading across his face.

“Are you alright with this?” I ask.

Olbric blinks his eyes open with a grin. “With me thoroughly reddening your ass? Yes, absolutely.”

I snort as I lean forward to kiss the tip of his nose. “I meant me conduiting for Arlon this week.”

He lets out a long, contented sigh as his eyes close again. “Arlon doesn’t offer to collar everyone. It’s a hell of a learning opportunity.”

I twine my leg with his as I tug his quilt up to cover us. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

In the past six months, we’ve gotten pretty close. Olbric and Galiva are my main casting partners, but he’s the only one I share a bed with some nights. The last thing I want to do is make him feel like I’m abandoning him this week.

But he opens his eyes to look at me, a small smile on his face. “I’m fine with it. Just be sure to tell him who got you ready for him.”

I press my lips to his in a chaste kiss. “Night, Olbric.”

“Goodnight, Dom.”

His bed is warm and comfortable, and I have little desire to get up and walk all the way to my room in the divination tower. Olbric doesn’t let me leave, anyway. He rolls, dragging my arm over his waist as he does. I smile as I snuggle close, breathing in the scent of the honeyed soap he uses in his hair. With every curve of him snugly nestled against me, I nod off.

I sleep soundly, all the nerves about being collared thoroughly fucked out of me. So when I wake to a dark, still room, I’m not quite sure what’s caused it. It feels like the middle of the night. Then I hear Olbric’s quiet groan.

He jerks in his sleep, a low, distressed moan making it past his lips. Even fast asleep, he’s tense under my arm, like he’s fighting against something I can’t see.

“You’re alright,” I murmur. I lift my arm from his waist and press my lips against his shoulder. “You’re safe.”

In the months since he was overwhelmed outside of the Black Burrows by Diran and his rogue wizards, the dark memories from that time catch up with him now and again. He doesn’t talk about it, but I know how heavily those five days weigh on him. The memories don’t seem to care if he’s awake or asleep when they come to him, either. I’ve seen him lash out when they hit, watched him stop dead in his tracks, his eyes wide as if he’s seeing something that no one else can. This isn’t the first time his nightmares have woken me up, and I doubt it’ll be the last.

I can’t do much, but I murmur quiet comforts to him and hope it’s enough. Slowly, the bad dream must pass. He starts to relax again, and I let out a small sigh. His breathing evens out, his troubled face returning to something more peaceful. I kiss the back of his neck before I slide my arm around his waist once more, holding him close.

Sleep is a long time coming. As if some of Olbric’s troubles have seeped into me. I can’t help but think that if we could catch Sight of Diran with our divinings, maybe all of us would sleep a little better.

3

COLLARED

Collaring can be used to increase the efficacy and power output of spells across all magical schools of thought. Conjurations can be heightened through prolonged chastity; enchantments can be enhanced through any number of mundane embarrassments a caster subjects their conduit to. Even evocations can be amplified because a conduit will suffer pain or punishment due to an infraction of their caster’s rules, rather than simply ‘for the sake of a spell.’

Advanced Casting Principles: Collaring by Felix Kessler

Ihadn’t meant to sleep in, but after mine and Olbric’s late night, the sun is up before I am. I swear quietly and am greeted by Olbric’s quiet groan. Carefully, I slip out of his bed before I give him a kiss on the cheek.

He stirs and smiles blearily at me over his shoulder. “Have fun this week.”

I smile and catch his lips one more time. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

I hurry from his room and down the baths, but my whole morning is a little thrown off by my late start. I debate skipping breakfast but can’t bring myself to do it. Though there’s never a lack of food at the Crux, I always hate missing a meal.

Yet it’s not until I arrive at Arlon’s office just a minute after first bell that I realize Galiva and Olbric might be right - maybe I am crazy for agreeing to this.

Arlon looks up from his pocket watch when I come through his door and raises an eyebrow. “You’re late.”

I clear my throat, suddenly nervous. “Sorry - had kind of a late start this morning.”

“That sounds like an excuse,” Arlon says before motioning me over. It’s only then I see the collar on his desk.

It’s no small band. It’s as tall as my pointer finger and made of a sturdy black leather lined with soft fur. A silver buckle closes it, and the three small rings that lay at even intervals around it have been polished to a shine.

“Kneel.”

I swallow and do as told, sinking to my knees in front of him. Arlon pulls my spell necklace off before he takes the collar and slides it around my neck. My heart thuds as he tightens it snugly, though he checks to be sure it’s not too snug with a couple fingers under the band. Even so, it’s just tight enough and just wide enough that it checks my posture, keeping my chin up. I’ll certainly never be able to forget it’s there.

“For the duration of this week, this collar will stay on,” he says and hangs my spells back where they belong. “You are not allowed to remove it or loosen it, but if it becomes too constricting you may ask me, and I will loosen it for you.”

I swallow as I look up at him, and my answer is automatic. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon’s thumb brushes my lower lip. “Good. You’ve already found the correct way to address me,” he says approvingly. “When I give you an order or ask a question, you will always answer with ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir.’ Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I say again. There’s that authoritative tone I remember from when I first cast conjuration under his supervision. It’s enough to make my cock twitch.

“Excluding any stops, you are not allowed to speak unless I give you permission or ask you a direct question,” he says. “If you need to get my attention, you may bow until I acknowledge you.”

Fucking hell. High protocol indeed. My stomach twists when he continues. “As of now, you are not allowed to leave my presence without permission. This includes meals as well as relieving yourself. Is that understood?”

I flush red all the way to the tips of my ears. No wonder collaring is used for enchantment. Having to ask to even take a piss is humiliating in and of itself. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he says, and I hear the satisfaction in his voice. “Because you were late this morning, I think I’ve altered my plan for how this week will go. I was originally going to try and ease you into some mastery level enchantments, but now I think I might use this opportunity to wring a strong conjuration out of you.”

He’s grinning from ear to ear as he opens one of his desk drawers and pulls out a familiar metal chastity cage. It’s the same one he locked me in when I first tried conjuration, and I barely bite back a whimper. It’s one thing to think of conjuration as no big deal during negotiations, but it’s another thing entirely to be staring at the prospect of a week collared by Arlon without orgasm.

“Do you think that’s an acceptable punishment?” he asks, and I realize he’s giving me an out.

I swallow and try to calm my racing heart down to get a reasonable thought through. Maybe this week will be easier with the cage? At least then I don’t have to worry about being paraded around the Crux naked all week.

“Yes, sir,” I say at last and hope it’s the right decision.

In the six months I’ve been at the Crux, I don’t think I’ve seen Arlon smile this much. “Good. Then strip, and fold your clothes on the chair in the corner.”

I recognize my mistake instantly. There’s not a godsdamn thing stopping him from parading me around anyway. I learned from corpimancy that an orgasm isn’t necessary to create a spell. He might be able to wring some enchantment out of me even with the cage on.

I shiver as I get to my feet, my cock already hardening as I move to the corner and do as ordered. I fold my robe before stripping off the rest of my clothes. His office is chilly, and gooseflesh breaks out over my skin.

When I turn around, Arlon’s watching me from where he’s seated behind his desk. His eyebrow is raised as he takes in the blush that no doubt still colors my ass. The corner of his mouth quirks up as he beckons me closer with a finger.

“Come here, Dominai.”

I walk over to him, face flushed until I’m standing next to his chair. His fingers toy with my cock, and I clench my hands behind my back, trying not to tremble.

“You will learn that I am strict, but I am not cruel,” he says. “So consider this a gift to help get you through the rest of the week.”

He grabs my hips before he yanks me close. My hands fly behind his neck, and I yelp as he draws my cock into his mouth. Fucking hell he’s fast.

Even if speaking isn’t allowed, making noise seems to be encouraged, and I moan as his tongue works my length expertly. My half-hard cock swells, and Arlon holds my hips in an iron grip, not allowing me to pull away. Not like I want to anyway. The heat of his mouth surrounds me as he swallows me to the root, taking my full length with ease.

I shout as he grips my waist tightly, holding me flush against him as my release comes. He doesn’t relent, and my hands knot in his hair as he swallows every last drop of me. As soon as I’m spent, he hooks a finger through a ring on my collar and pulls me down to crush his lips against mine.

I whimper against him as I taste myself on his tongue, a rush of lust and humiliation flooding me. Godsdamn, it took him no time at all to unravel me. I suddenly feel completely outclassed and decide that Galiva and Olbric are right: I am crazy.

Arlon smirks against my lips even as he fastens the cage around my softening cock. I hear the quiet click of the lock before he holds the silver key up for me to see. “This cage will stay on until the last day of your collaring. And I’ll be sure you earn your freedom in the meantime.”

I’m panting by the time he lets me up, my cock already protesting the tight confines of the cage. “Now, this week is meant to help you better understand casting techniques and mindset through your own submission. This means that you will need to be paying attention to all that I do with you,” he says. “So, I want you to note every time I do something that puts you into a submissive headspace, because I will ask you to recount them to me at the end of the day, understood?”

Fucking hell, all of that was a pretty strong start, but I just say, “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Arlon says before he scoots his chair away from his desk. “Now, get comfortable. I have some work to do.”

It takes me a second to understand what he’s implying, but then I see the pillow and blankets he’s set up for me. I flush hot red, but crawl into the gap under his desk, feeling like a collared dog. It’s roomier than I thought it would be, though I still have to sit hunched to avoid hitting my head on the underside. Arlon reaches down and hooks one of the rings around my collar to a tether that’s attached to the foot of his desk. It seems to be a permanent addition. Guess I’m not the first person he’s kept under here.

I shift until I find a comfortable position and settle in, pulling one of the blankets around my naked shoulders. I hear the scrape of Arlon’s pen, but after a few minutes of listening to him work, I start to get a little anxious. I feel like I should be doing something. Taking notes or studying one of Galiva’s endless books. It’s hard to accept that other than being here, all of my responsibilities have been lifted for the time being.

It’s… actually kind of nice.

When I realize I’m here for the long haul, I curl up more comfortably, my head left with nowhere to go but rest against Arlon’s leg. He doesn’t seem to mind it, and I let my eyes drift closed. A minute later, he reaches down and strokes a hand through my hair. I smile as I start to doze.

I’m not sure how much time passes, and it’s kind of nice to not have to worry about it. Since coming to the Crux, I haven’t really taken a break longer than the occasional Saturday. With the steady thrum of arousal coursing through me, this isn’t exactly a break, but it’s just close enough.

At some point, someone knocks on Arlon’s door, and I blink awake. My head is pillowed on Arlon’s boot, and I rub the sleep from my eyes as he calls, “Come in.”

The door grinds open, and I hear the familiar voices of Quartermaster Farlan and Paulette the Chamberlain as they greet him. I flush to the tips of my ears and curl further into the space under the desk. The non-magical staff of the Crux have no delusions about what we do, but I don’t go out of my way to involve them in it. Arlon seems content to ignore me, but now that I’m awake, I can’t help but listen in on their meeting.

Until now, I hadn’t realized how much Arlon was involved in the day to day at the Crux. The Chamberlain reports earnings for the week, and the numbers make my mind boggle. Apparently people really do pay good coin for spells and wizard services. But then Paulette starts talking about how much of it we need for the final food and cloth requisitions for winter. After some back and forth, the numbers are settled and the requisitions list finalized.

It’s interesting to listen in on. I never really thought about how much money and resources it takes to sustain a place like the Crux.

“Do you have the requisitions list for the clinic?” Farlan asks in his usual gruff tone.

“Unfortunately not,” Arlon says. “Master Garrett handles the inventory for the clinic, and he’s still out East.”

Paulette tsks. “Any news?”

Arlon’s chair creaks as he leans back. “The quake was severe, but recovery is going well. Garrett’s been dealing with the injured with some help from Grandmaster Demica and the Eastern Tower.”

“Do you have an idea of when he’ll return?” Farlan asks. “People get antsy ahead of winter. If I wait much longer to submit the clinic’s requisitions, I may not be able to get all of it.”

“He’s still scheduled to be gone for a few more weeks,” Arlon says. “But I’ll send Galiva to talk to you. She’s been covering the clinic in Garrett’s absence, so she will have a better handle of what’s needed.”

The last order of business is that the Crux is looking to hire another cook after Gladys accepted a position cooking for the King and court. Arlon leaves recruitment for that to Paulette before their meeting is adjourned.

“Oh, Arlon,” Paulette says as the office door creaks open again. “You might tell whoever is under your desk that their toes are sticking out.”

My eyes go wide, and I yank my foot out from the little crack of clearance between the bottom of the desk and the floor. Paulette and Farlan laugh before I hear the door close. Arlon chuckles as he reaches down to stroke through my hair.

“Are you hungry, Dominai?”

“Yes, sir.”

Arlon leans back in his chair, and I blink when he releases his cock from the slit of his trousers. “First, you tend to this.”

A shiver races up my spine, my pulse speeding up as I’m drawn right back into a headspace. I gently grab the base of his hardening cock, and though I’ve felt how big he is before, seeing it displayed makes me wonder if I can even fit him in my mouth.

I lap at the tip before opening my mouth wide to draw him in. He swells to full attention, and I inch my lips down further, my jaw stretching to accommodate him. I fall into a rhythm, using my hand to cover what my mouth can’t as I bob up and down his length.

“No hands,” Arlon orders, and I can’t stop a whimper as I let go of him.

His fingers twine through my hair before he eases me further down his length. I close my eyes and do my best to relax, but my throat isn’t as flexible as Galiva’s. I gag, and Arlon pulls my head back an inch, letting me take a second before he guides me down again. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes as I fight off another gag, but I breathe deep through my nose and manage to stave it off - barely. It’s a relief when Arlon retreats back to the tip.

“I’ll expect you to be able to take my full length by the end of the week,” he says, his voice thick with pleasure. He doesn’t seem to expect an answer as he starts to fuck my mouth shallowly, thrusting deep enough to tease at the back of my throat. He lets up, and I swirl my tongue around his tip as best as I’m able, focusing on drawing air in through my nose to stave off another gag.

My jaw aches, but then I feel the telltale throb of his cock. For a second, I’m afraid he’s going to pull away and make me go to lunch with him all over my face. I shiver in relief when instead, he thrusts deep with a sigh of pleasure. The sheer amount makes me grunt in surprise, a bit of him trickling from the corner of my mouth.

“Swallow it,” Arlon growls, and I do the best I can. I gasp as I pull my mouth off of him, but he doesn’t let go of my hair until I lick him clean. Only then does he tuck his cock away before he unclasps the tether from my collar.

He pushes his chair back to allow me out from under his desk. I unfurl and stand, leaving the blanket I had been using behind. Even though I know he’s seen me naked, I still feel exposed and vulnerable. It’s a challenge not to drop my hands to cover my caged cock.

Arlon’s eyes rake over my naked body appreciatively, and for a second, I’m afraid he’s going to take me to the mess hall like this. But he must read the unease on my face because he jerks his head to my pile of clothes in the corner.

“I’ll allow you clothes today,” he says. But it sounds like that won’t always be the case.

I spend the whole day with Arlon. For most of it, I’m kept under his desk, listening in on a stream of meetings, or just the quiet scratch of his pen. He keeps busy enough that he sends me out on a couple of errands to pick up a specific book from the library or grab him a drink from the kitchens, though he lets me stay clothed for the rest of the day.

After dinner, he takes me back to his quarters. He leads me up a set of stairs to the second floor of the main tower. I hadn’t realized there were living quarters inside of the magiline tower, but there’s a single door at the end of the long corridor. His rooms are big, but they’re not lavish, though the wall that holds the large glass window is pure magiline, and it makes the whole room seem a little more splendid.

There’s a bed large enough to fit three people, and through the far door, there’s a private bath. Thick, comfortable rugs cover the floor, and a fire crackles in the hearth in the corner to stave off the late fall chill. A few shelves along the stone wall are stacked with books, and there is a desk that, to my surprise, is covered with finished and half-finished wood carvings. The largest is a rearing horse that is carved in fine detail and polished to a rich red while the mane and tail are stained black.

He must see me staring because he says, “I used to whittle when I was younger. The hobby has only grown in scale over the years.”

“It’s beautiful.” I immediately realize my slip and look at him with wide eyes.

Arlon smirks and motions me closer as he takes a seat in a comfortable reading chair by the fire. I swallow as I approach, feeling exposed even with my clothes on. He hooks a finger through the ring on my collar and drags me to a half bow, drawing my face close to his.

“I’m honestly surprised that was your first slip,” he says. “I was expecting to do this a few times today.”

Without warning, he yanks me over his lap. I yelp as he pulls my trousers down enough to expose my ass. I know what he’s about to do the second before he brings his hand down in a sharp, stinging slap. The memories of my night with Olbric spark to life as I yelp. Fortunately, he only delivers nine more hard spanks before he tugs me up by the collar to catch my lips in a deep kiss.

“Though I appreciate the compliment,” he murmurs, his scruff tickling my cheek.

He releases me, and I stumble to my feet, face hot. It reminds me of my da taking me over his knee when I was a boy, making me flush with embarrassment. I go to pull my trousers back up, but Arlon stops me.

“That’s unnecessary,” he says. “Take them off.”

His deep voice has adopted that tone again, sultry and almost playful. I shiver as I do as I’m told. He hasn’t told me to put them anywhere, so I just let them drop. The fire helps stave off the draft, but gooseflesh breaks out over my skin anyway.

“All of it,” Arlon says. From his comfortable chair, he watches me intently as I strip off my robe and shirt before discarding my boots and socks. I’m left with nothing but the cage, collar, and spell necklace, and even with the fire, I shiver.

“You’ve done well today,” he says as he motions me forward again. He guides me up so I’m straddling his waist, knees resting on either side of his lap. His gentle hand brushes my hair back from my face. “I think that deserves a reward.”

My heart’s pounding as he guides my arms over his shoulders, moving me like a doll. My breathing sounds loud in my own ears as he pulls a small bottle of lotion from his pocket before he slathers his fingers. His slicked digits glide down my crack before he pushes one into me, loosening me gently. I can’t stop a moan, hands tightening in the fabric of his robe.

He moves without an ounce of haste, thrusting one finger in and then a second. His fingers are large, and even with two, I feel full. When he pushes a third into me, I groan as my cock throbs inside of the cage. His free hand trails over my hip and down my ass before grabbing one cheek to spread me. I whimper and bury my face into the crook of his neck, as mortified as I am aroused.

I don’t know how long he prepares me, but I’m a trembling mess by the time he draws his fingers away. My pulse spikes as he releases his cock from his trousers and coats his rigid length with lotion. His hands tighten on my hips, angling me just so. I’ve only taken him twice, and I tense as the blunt tip of him prods at my well-slicked hole.

“Relax,” he orders.

I draw in a breath and let it out as the tip of him enters me. He feels just as big as I remember. Gently, he guides my hips down even as he rolls his up to meet me. I whimper, the stretch bordering on painful even though he’s prepared me well. I bury my face against his shoulder, and he strokes a hand down my back, letting me adjust around him.

“Are you alright?”

I bite my lip and shift, lifting myself up before sinking down onto him again. Arlon’s big, but the past six months at the Crux have made taking him a whole lot easier. I relax around his girth with a quiet groan. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

He grabs my hips, pushing me further onto him even as he thrusts up to meet me. I cry out, eyes shooting wide as his cock spears me. My stretched hole accepts him, and I shout again as his second thrust rams that sweet spot inside of me. He holds my hips hard enough to bruise, anchoring me to him.

I’ve been taken rough before, but never by Arlon. Never like this.

I wrap my arms around him, clinging to him as he uses me for his pleasure. Like I belong to him. It’s a bit of a jolt to realize that I do. Arlon’s cock rams into me, and only then does it finally sink in - what collaring really means. I’m his property, and for the next seven days, Arlon can do whatever he wants with me. The thought makes my head swim with pleasure.

I whimper with every deep thrust, my trapped cock straining inside of the cage. There are no ropes holding me, no straps keeping me contained. Nothing is keeping me bound to him but the collar around my neck, yet it holds just as strong. Fucking hell, and this is only day one.

My cock leaks, but I already know there will be no release for me tonight. I won’t have it until Arlon allows me to have it. The realization wrings a tormented moan from my lips even as I spread my legs wider, accepting every tortuous thrust. I give myself over to him, submitting entirely to the rough fucking.

His breath hisses by my ear, and I shiver at his groan of pleasure. It sends a thrill of satisfaction through me to know I’m the one causing those noises. He sinks into me, and when his cock swells, I feel a bit of elation that I was able to give him that, too. He fills me with a moan, one hand gripping the back of my neck as his teeth scrape my bare shoulder. I whimper and sag against him, my own cock throbbing and red inside of the cage.

For a long moment, we stay like that. Arlon is relaxed and spent while I tremble with unfulfilled desire, his cock still sheathed inside of me. Finally, he pulls out with a groan, and my hole twitches at the loss. He scoots me onto his lap as he cleans me with a handkerchief from his pocket. My trembling slowly subsides, and I start to relax as his arms circle me.

Gentle fingers brush my hair away from my face, and I blink hazily up at him. “I want to check in with you,” he says. “You have permission to speak freely. How are you feeling?”

I give a small laugh as I rub my face, trying to sort through my own emotions. “I’m so randy I can barely think,” I admit.

Arlon’s chuckle rumbles through me. “Expect that to get worse as the week goes on,” he promises. “How was today for you?”

I try to sort through my own thoughts, but I have a hard time with it. “Relaxing isn’t the right word… calming, maybe? I didn’t have to worry about studying or casting or anything else. I just had to be here.”

Arlon’s fingers continue to stroke through my hair. It feels nice. I let my tired eyes close. “I don’t think I understood just how deep your submission ran until today,” he says after a moment. “I saw you fall into it the moment I put the collar on you. Some I’ve collared have balked at what I’ve had them do, but not you. You took everything in stride. You fell right into it.”

I shift more comfortably against his chest as I digest that. “I guess… it wasn’t my place to refuse. And nothing you had me do ever made me feel like I needed to stop.”

Arlon smiles, and there’s no hint of sadism in it. Only pride. “You’re an incredible sort of wizard, Dominai. Very few are so willing to trust and experience as openly as you do.”

I flush at the praise. “No one at the Crux has ever given me a reason not to trust them. Least of all you.”

Arlon cups my head and presses a kiss against my forehead. “And I will never knowingly betray that trust. When I collar someone, I do so with the intention of helping them reach their potential as a wizard, and though I am good at reading people, even I can make mistakes. In spite of the control you’ve given over to me, never forget that you have the final say here. If I ever overstep or do anything that makes you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, I want you to stop me.”

I nod and rest my head against his shoulder. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon kisses my head again. “Good. Now, tell me about your day.”

I flush as I recount all the things he did that put me into a submissive headspace. But as I do, I start to realize something. Even though there were flashpoints where it was particularly intense, Arlon’s very presence puts me there.

“It’s like… dominance pours off of you,” I say. “I’ve always noticed it, but it feels like now I’m getting the full force of it.”

Arlon pulls a blanket off of the back of his chair to drape over my bare shoulders. “I have a dominant personality,” he says as he makes sure I’m covered. “That’s what you see during the normal day to day at the Crux. But when I’m casting or have someone collared, I fall into my own sort of headspace. It’s a thrill to have someone submit to me, to allow me to control their experience. I enjoy the responsibility that comes with dominating another person - for their own enjoyment as well as my own.”

Folks in the Crux often talk about headspace as a conduit thing, so I’ve never thought about a caster headspace.

“When I first cast divination with Galiva, I felt that thrill,” I say. “It was… heady knowing I had control over her.”

Arlon’s fingers stroke through my hair gently. “Yet the spells you’ve produced recently show that you don’t experience that same feeling when casting abjuration,” he says. “Why do you think that is?”

“I do get that feeling. But the nerves sort of… stamp it out.” I sigh, but it takes me a moment to put my thoughts into words. “I think it has to do with the silver,” I say at last. “Since they can’t hear me or see me, they can’t… judge me.”

Arlon hums thoughtfully. “It sounds like a confidence issue. This is not the first time your lack of confidence has come to my attention. We’ll work on that this week.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I stay quiet, keeping my head buried against his neck. Arlon continues to stroke through my hair, a comforting presence. The adrenaline starts to wear off, leaving me in a comfortable post-fuck haze. His gentle touch nearly lulls me to a doze.

“You’ll stay here tonight,” Arlon says at last. “I know you’re an early riser, so when you wake up, you will prepare my clothes for me, and then you have permission to go down to the baths without me. I will meet you in the mess hall at first bell, sharp.”

I smile at that. “Yes, sir.”

4

LOANED OUT

Evocation is a school that can be very polarizing for some. Many wizards do not enjoy pain, but they will conduit for other forms of sensation play that fall under the school. Others take the pain of heavy evocation without so much as batting an eye. Therefore, it is important to understand your conduit’s preferences and limits before casting a spell in the school.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

The next morning, I wake up on the sleeping mat at the foot of Arlon’s bed. At first, I don’t really register where I am, but then I feel the weight of the collar around my neck and let out a sigh of relief. I blink, letting my eyes adjust to the dark room before I get up. Arlon’s still asleep, his deep, even breathing rising from the bed.

The fire has dimmed to embers, but I stoke it again when I feel how cold the room has gotten. It’s too early for the sun, so I use the crackling light to gather Arlon’s clothes. I track down a clean shirt and trousers hanging in the closet. I set them out on his chair along with a pair of socks. There’s even a rag and polish that I use to shine his boots before I set them on the floor underneath. His robe is hanging over the back of the chair, but I take it down and fold it so the ribbons of color on his sleeves are showing.

My own clothes are still where I dropped them the night before. I put them on before heading out as quietly as I can. The door opens with a quiet groan, but Arlon must be a hard sleeper because he doesn’t stir as I close it quietly behind me. I let out a sigh of relief and head down to the baths, but I swing by my own room in the divination tower for a change of clothes first.

It’s early, so I take my time to wash, seeing a peppering of bruises on my hips. I’m still sore, but it’s nothing serious, and the hot water of the baths does good to soothe the ache. I wash my hair and shave, which is a tricky thing when I’m trying my best to keep my collar dry.

Someone pads down the stairs, and I smile when Cancassi emerges from the stairwell. They’re wearing a bathrobe that barely covers the small swell of their breasts, and their long white hair is already freed from its elaborate braid. Their copper eyes shine in the dim light of the baths before they land on me. Not many are awake this time of day, and though I still haven’t quite figured out the Maeve’s sleep schedule, I’m starting to lean towards nocturnal.

“Good morning, Dom,” they say brightly. Ever since the fight with the rogue wizards, they walk with a limp, but it’s especially obvious as they head towards my pool. The cold weather must be making their leg ache like my arm used to do before Galiva fixed it. “May I join you?”

I have a feeling the no-talking rule probably applies even when Arlon isn’t present, so I just nod and wave them over. They discard their bathrobe, exposing the scar that stretches over their left hip and down their thigh. Every time I see it, I get angry at Diran all over again. Galiva and Garrett had only been able to do so much for the wound once Cancassi had been stabilized. The acid ball Diran threw had already done its damage, and there was no healing flesh that was no longer there to heal.

“You’re awfully quiet this morning.” I offer them a hand to get into the pool, which they gratefully take before their eyes land on my collar. “Aah. That’s right - Olbric mentioned that Arlon had collared you for the week. How does it feel being the Grandmaster’s bitch?”

Ever since Cancassi decided to work towards an enchantment mastery, they’ve started saying shit like that to make me blush. Truth be told, they’re getting rather good at the humiliation aspect of it. I flush, and the heat of the baths does nothing to hide it. The Maeve laughs before they catch sight of the cage through the water.

“Gods, and a chastity cage?” They tsk and sink back into the water. “I do not envy your week.”

I shrug and Cancassi hums as they comb through their hair with their fingers. “Maybe I envy it a little bit. I certainly look forward to hearing all the sordid details once you get your voice back.”

I’m sure I’ll have some stories, though whether I decide to share them is still up for debate. I glide across the pool to kiss their cheek before I motion to the stairs. I’m not sure of the exact time, but I’ve got to be getting close, and I’ve learned there’s nothing wrong with being early with Arlon.

“Don’t let him loosen your ass too much,” Cancassi calls as I climb out of the pool. I flush again and flip a rude gesture, though I can’t help but chuckle.

I dry off and get dressed quick before heading up to the mess hall. I’m greeted by the smell of cooking sausage, and my stomach grumbles loudly. Fortunately I don’t have to wait long. First bell rings and Arlon walks in only a second later.

He catches sight of me and tsks dramatically as he walks over. “I must not have been very clear. When you are collared, clothes are a privilege that are earned. Take them off.”

He’s speaking loud enough that the whole hall can hear. It’s peak time for breakfast, and I flush as all eyes turn to me. I catch sight of Galiva and Olbric’s wide grins behind Arlon and realize that this was no unintentional slip on the Grandmaster’s part.

Godsdamn, but he likes to get me naked in front of the entire Crux. Maybe it’s just because I still haven’t lost all of that hammered-in Airedale prudishness, but it never gets easier being naked in front of a group. I’m red to the tips of my ears as I pull my robe off and put it over Arlon’s waiting hand. My shirt goes next, followed by socks and boots. When I get to my trousers, I hear Olbric’s distinct whistle and shoot him a glare. Then I stand naked as the day I was born, save for my spells, my collar, and the cage around my cock in front of the entire Crux.

Arlon smiles as he bundles my clothes up. “Let’s eat.”

After breakfast, Arlon informs me that he is taking me to a casting lesson with Orabelle. “I thought you would be a fine conduit for her to practice evocation on. But don’t worry, the cage will stay on,” he says with a wicked grin. “This is more for her to be able to familiarize herself with other evocation casting components.”

I shiver and look at Arlon with wide eyes. Ever since it was confirmed the Tinari woman we freed from Diran had magic in her blood, she made it very clear that she would not consent to conduiting. After what she’d been through, no one could blame her. What I hadn’t realized was that Arlon was mentoring her casting lessons personally.

Arlon must sense my unease because he says, “I will be there to monitor. She has learned admirably for someone who has never conduited, and I will be sure you are handled appropriately. Agreeable?”

I run a hand through my hair, realizing he’s giving me a choice. Evocation is a challenging school. I’ve never actually done it with anyone save Olbric and Galiva, but I trust Arlon. Knowing he’ll be there to monitor takes some of the weight off of the decision.

“Yes, sir.”

Arlon squeezes my shoulder before he leads me to the evocation tower, to a room just a few doors down from the one Olbric usually uses. He opens the door, and Orabelle is already inside, comfortably reclined on the bed that rests in the center of the room. She looks up, and her eyes immediately land on me. She’s a petite woman, standing only as tall as my chest. She’s cropped her black hair short since deciding to stay at the Crux, and it frames her pixie-like face, but the look she’s giving me is downright impish.

“Hi, Dom,” she says slyly. I flush and raise a hand in greeting.

Arlon claps me on the shoulder and says, “Dominai has volunteered to conduit for your lesson today.”

“Oh has he now?” Orabelle asks as she steps towards me, eying the collar and cage curiously. She says something in a lilting language I don’t recognize, and Arlon chuckles before he responds in kind. I glance at him and wonder, not for the first time, where Arlon comes from. I know he’s non-bloodline, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s Tinari as well.

Orabelle snaps me to attention when her finger trails lightly down my chest. “I’ve got some ideas for you.” She asks something in that same lilting tongue. Arlon considers it for a moment before he says something in response that makes Orabelle’s grin widen.

“Go ahead and get comfortable, Dominai,” Arlon says and motions to the bed. I sense a trap, but I do as asked and go sit on the edge of it. Orabelle is already at the supply cabinet and pulls out a length of rope.

“Lie back, if you wouldn’t mind,” Orabelle says.

“No need to ask him,” Arlon says. “Just give the order and he’ll obey. Isn’t that right, Dominai?”

“Yes, sir.”

The bed isn’t any different than my own, save that it only has the bottom sheet tucked around it. The main difference is that there are four posts, one at each corner, built right into the framework. I can easily tell what they’re for, and I’m not wrong as Orabelle ties my wrists and ankles to each of them to keep me splayed.

She’s efficient with the ropes and goes about binding me with quick confidence. “How’s that feel?” she asks.

I open my mouth to speak but stop myself. I swallow and look back at Arlon. He seems pleased and says, “You may address her with the same respect you would address me.”

“It feels fine ma’am, thank you,” I say, though my voice comes out a little rough. Whether it’s from anticipation or disuse, I’m not sure. I test the ropes and find they’re secured well, and the posts I’m bound to are strong.

“Is the cage coming off?” Orabelle asks.

“No,” Arlon says. I can’t stop a small groan of disappointment. Just being tied and splayed out has already gotten me heated. Inside of the cage, my cock aches.

Orabelle smiles and says something I don’t understand before she heads back to the cabinet to fetch something else.

“No, that is certainly available for use,” Arlon says. I shudder, not needing a translation to guess what they’re talking about.

Orabelle returns a moment later with a bag full of something that clanks. I frown as I try to puzzle out what it is, but she’s kind enough to reach in and pull one out to show me. It’s a simple wooden clothespin, no different than what the launderers use to hang the sheets out to dry.

“Ready?” Orabelle asks, a smirk on her face.

I raise an eyebrow, and can’t help but mirror her smirk. Clothespins have nothing on some of the spells I’ve let Olbric cast with me. This, I can handle.

“Yes ma’am.”

The first one pinches around my left nipple with a little sting of pain. I lay back and close my eyes even as she closes a matching one onto the other. The spots fade to a dull throb, but after a moment, it’s easy enough to ignore.

It gets less easy the more she puts on. She targets the sensitive spots - the skin over my ribs, my inner thighs, under my arms. She leaves even rows of clothespins behind, and I grimace as she closes one on a particularly sensitive spot on my chest. I don’t know how long it takes, but she finally closes one last pin onto my side. I don’t breathe too deep, because every time I do, it tugs at the row on my ribs.

In an almost innocent gesture, she flicks the long forgotten one on my nipple, and I gasp as pain radiates from the spot. My eyes fly open, and I look down to see the display she’s made over my skin in no less than fifty pins.

She smirks as she meets my eye. Then, she tugs the pin on my nipple off. I shout as hot pain laces through the sensitive skin and realize that putting them on wasn’t the hard part. It’s getting them off that’s going to get the screams out of me.

“Still feeling so cocky?” she asks as she toys with the clothespin over my other nipple.

“N-no ma’am,” I say, and I hear Arlon’s deep chuckle behind me.

Orabelle pulls the pin off my other nipple, and I hiss as I clench my eyes shut. Blood throbs back into the pinched skin, wringing a miserable little whimper out of me. Getting the rest off is going to be nothing short of torture.

“Maybe give him something to distract him,” Arlon suggests, and I’ve never been more grateful in my entire life.

Orabelle replies in that lilting tongue before she returns to the cabinet to grab something else. I whimper as she eases my legs even further apart before something buzzes against my hole. I jump in surprise only to hiss as it makes every pin on me rattle. She presses a slicked focus into me that vibrates with charge. The rest of the string follows, five in all, and they bump against one another inside of me. I shudder, a moan leaking out from behind my pursed lips.

Then without warning, she swats off two clothespins from the inside of my thigh. I shout and flinch away, but I have nowhere to go. She doesn’t relent and takes two more off from my other thigh, and I can’t tell if I prefer it when she gets rid of them quick or pulls them off slow. Both ways are terrible.

The buzzing focuses only do so much to distract me as she plucks off all the ones she’s put on my thigh. But then she leans down and kisses the sensitive skin gently, and I shudder for a whole new reason. My cock throbs, and the vague thought crosses my mind that this is only day two.

She tugs out one of the buzzing focuses, and I yelp in surprise as it sends a thrill of pleasure up my spine. Leisurely, she pushes it back in, and I sag in my ropes with a needy whine.

Arlon floats into my field of vision. He reaches down to flick one of the clothespins on my chest.

“Are you alright, Dominai?” he asks.

I arch as Orabelle takes one pin off from the skin of my ribs. I kick my legs against the bed as best I’m able, like any movement will ease the sting. It doesn’t, and I take a few deep breaths through my nose before I answer. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon looks at me thoughtfully and says, “Orabelle, I think we might be able to get a spell or two out of him with this.”

“Really?” she says even as she tugs another clothespin from my abused skin.

“Orgasm isn’t required to finish a spell, though it can depend on your conduit,” he says. “Sexual release can help charge a few more focuses, but with what you’re doing, Dominai will almost certainly be able to fill a couple all on his own.”

Orabelle smiles and pulls out a couple of uncharged rings from her pocket. For a blessed second, I think they’re going to take the cage off, but then Orabelle simply slides the focuses over my fingers. They spark with charge, and I sag helplessly before Arlon’s grip tightens in my hair.

“Do you remember how to stop around a gag, Dominai?” he asks.

I look up at him as I say, “Thumbs out, sir.”

“Good boy,” he says. “I’m going to give you one more distraction, but if you bite me, I’ll have Orabelle put the clothespins back on.”

A tormented moan passes my lips, but Arlon tightens his hand in my hair before he pushes his cock past my lips. He stretches my mouth wide as he thrusts deep. Tears leak from my eyes as I fight not to gag, but it’s a losing battle. As soon as I do, he retreats to a comfortable distance, though he doesn’t pull out.

Orabelle takes the opportunity to slap off three more clothespins, and my shout is muffled around Arlon. He groans appreciatively, pushing in deep once more. He said that by the end of the week I’d be able to take all of him, and he seems intent on making that happen. I clench my eyes shut tight and focus on keeping my teeth away from his skin. His cock tickles at the back of my throat, just shy of making me gag. He stays there for a long moment, and it’s enough of a distraction that I don’t shout when Orabelle takes off two more pins.

Arlon pulls out of my mouth, and I gasp, feeling lightheaded from the onslaught. He cups my chin as he asks, “Are you alright?”

Orabelle plucks off another pin and I arch with a groan. “Y-yes, sir.”

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” he asks. I nod, breath hissing through my teeth as heat blossoms across my skin when Orabelle removes another one. His hand is gentle as he strokes through my hair. “Take a deep breath.”

I do as told before he thrusts back into my mouth, moving past the point I thought I could take. His grip on my hair is firm, keeping me there as I reflexively try to tug away. Tears stream from my eyes as I try to fight off another gag. He pulls me down further, his thick length slipping deeper into my throat. My nose just brushes the hair that halos his cock before he releases me. All the while, my thumbs stay firmly tucked under my fingers.

I jerk back and cough, spit trailing from my mouth as I try to get myself under control. A hand touches my cheek, and I blink hazily up to see Orabelle smiling.

“Ready for the last ones?” she asks.

I glance down and see that there are still two rows of ten on either side of my chest. Then I notice the small string that’s been pinched under each pin, and Orabelle holds the string ends in her hand.

Fuck all the way off with that. I whimper and shake my head. I war with myself - I don’t want to stop, but those pins scare the hell out of me.

“Give me a second. Please, ma’am” I say, voice strained.

Orabelle’s lips are soft where they brush my forehead. “I’ll wait.”

I draw in a few deep breaths. Either way, the damned things have to come off. Better this than plucking them off individually, right? Then Arlon’s fingers are under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. I quiver as I meet his gaze.

“I know you can do it, Dom,” Arlon says. “You’re almost done.”

I grit my teeth. It’s going to hurt. A lot. But hearing Arlon’s belief in me is what makes me say, “Alright. I’m ready, ma’am.”

Orabelle smiles and the strings pull taut. She does me the courtesy of counting down. “Three, two, one.”

With one sharp tug, she yanks the strings up, and the two rows of clothespins follow. Arlon pulls the buzzing marbles out of me at the same time, making me howl. I arch on the bed even as the focuses around my fingers spark and crackle. My skin feels like it’s been ripped off, but at least it’s over quick.

I slump back against the bed, trembling as the fizzles of pain start to subside. Orabelle’s hands are gentle and cool as she brushes over my abused flesh. She leans down to soothe the red marks with kisses, and the soft feel of her lips makes me shake so hard I feel like I’ll rattle apart.

“Oh hell, I missed one,” Orabelle says, and I yelp as the last clothespin under my arm comes off. Relief washes the sting away. I bury my face against my arm and start to laugh even as tears leak from the corner of my eyes. It’s backwards, but it’s not the first time I’ve cracked up after evocation, and I doubt it’ll be the last.

Arlon’s fingers are gentle as they stroke through my hair. “Are you alright, Dominai?”

It’s an unstoppable, aching kind of laugh. It takes a moment, but I finally manage to get out one weak little word. “Ow.”

Orabelle says something I don’t understand even as she starts to untie me. I hear the smile in Arlon’s voice as he responds, and once I’m free, he scoops me into his arms like I weigh nothing. He pulls me into his lap as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, stroking my hair until my laughter subsides. I’m left sore and exhausted in the wake of it, but the aching throb in my cock takes a bit longer to fade than the pain does.

“Are you alright, Dominai?” Arlon asks again.

This time I’m coherent enough to say, “Yes, sir.”

“Then thank Orabelle for casting with you.”

Arlon gently helps me to my feet, and I sway as I settle into the familiar floaty feeling of conspace. The glowing focuses are still around my fingers, but I pull them off as I sink to my knees in front of Orabelle. She looks at me in surprise as I offer the spells to her.

“Thank you for casting with me, ma’am.”

Orabelle takes the focuses from my palm and leans down to kiss my cheek. “You’re very welcome.”

I tail Arlon for the rest of the day, and sometime around mid-afternoon, I notice that the embarrassment at being naked has lessened some. Eyes follow me, expressions ranging from sly to amazed at the red marks that still haven’t faded from my skin, but I find myself standing straighter under their scrutiny. The collar always corrects my posture, so it’s easier to hold my head up as the day goes on.

Arlon spends the rest of the afternoon checking in with the wizards we recovered from Diran’s cave. First stop is with Alix, and of all the rescued wizards, he’s the one I’ve seen the least of in the past few months. When he opens his door, he looks pleased to see Arlon, but his smile falters when he sees me.

“Dom will wait outside,” Arlon says before Alix can even ask.

The man nods even as he looks me over with something like curiosity. I’ve got a good few inches on him, but he has a strong build with broad shoulders and muscled arms I have a hard time tearing my eyes from. Black hair is cut short around a pretty face, but his copper tan skin looks sallow, like he might be sick. He gives me a wan smile as Arlon goes into his room before he closes the door.

I lean beside the door, but other than the occasional murmuring, I can’t catch any of their conversation. Not like I’m trying to eavesdrop, but Alix is so secretive that it’s hard not to be curious about him. After Allisande, I’ve gathered that he spent the longest amount of time in the cave, and I have a feeling that it still weighs heavy on him.

Their meeting lasts nearly an hour, and I learn how drafty the halls of the Crux really are by the time it’s over. When Arlon emerges, Alix offers me a small smile before he closes his door again.

Up next is Marvin. I’ve only talked to him in passing - he tends to keep his company with Fey and Fey alone, but hearing the loud boom of his laughter through the door makes me smile.

Iona is next, and though I try my best not to eavesdrop, her voice has a way of carrying. I overhear some of the issues she’s having with her two main casting partners, Ambra and Thaddius. I gather that the three of them had been close before Diran had caught up with her. Now that she’s back, Ambra has been keeping Iona close, and Thaddius has been moody and jealous because of it. Hearing her cry over it hurts. I don’t hear what Arlon tells her, but by the time he emerges, Iona’s red-eyed, but smiling.

After, Arlon checks in with Olbric as well. A wicked grin spreads over his face as soon as he catches sight of me. I flush as his eyes rake over my naked self before Arlon closes the door behind him. I wait patiently and try not to shiver at the chill breeze that creeps through the halls. Once they’re through, Olbric winks at me before he closes his door again.

When we get to Allisande, the red-haired wizard doesn’t even let Arlon into her room. Instead, she gives a thin, cool smile. “I am fine, thank you, Grandmaster,” she says formally. “But I have a casting appointment with Margeurite.”

Arlon leads us towards the mess hall for dinner as he mutters, “Apparently she’s still mad at me.”

We had missed lunch due to the lesson with Orabelle, so I’m starving as I gather a plate for both of us. Arlon takes mine from me and sets it on the floor, denying me utensils before he allows me to eat it.

After, we return to his quarters, and a vague part of me recognizes that I’m deep in a headspace. Apparently a day of being paraded around naked and made to eat my dinner from the ground like a dog is enough to keep me in it, even though it’s only Arlon’s eyes watching me now. He must see my vacant expression because he cups my cheek, and I blink to attention.

“Are you alright, Dominai?”

I lean into his touch, letting my eyes slide closed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Kneel.”

I do as I’m told, my knees hitting the soft rug as I look up at him. His thumb brushes my lips, and I draw it into my mouth, sucking gently. A barely-there shiver runs through Arlon, and I feel a thrill of excitement that I can have that effect on him.

“You did very well today,” he says as he pushes his thumb a little deeper. “I saw that Orabelle was testing your limits, yet you persisted.”

With his thumb in my mouth, I can’t answer, but I flush all the same. He pulls his hand away, and I let out a small noise of displeasure.

“So eager,” Arlon says. “How about I give you something that will make this next bit easier?”

That catches me off guard. I’d been so convinced we were through for the night, but even as tired as I am, a thrill of excitement rushes through me. “Please, sir.”

Arlon’s thumb strokes my cheek before he goes to his bedside table. He opens the drawer and pulls out a small jar that’s filled with what looks like round sugar candies. He grabs one and brings it over to me. “Suck on this.”

I frown but accept it as he slips it between my lips. The hint of sweetness is quickly overwhelmed by the taste of sage and mint. It floods my mouth and nose, strong enough that my eyes start to water, but I suck until it dissolves. Only when I swallow the last bit do I realize that it’s numbed my throat. I look up in surprise and meet Arlon’s intense gaze.

He runs his hand through my hair before he tightens his grip. “For leaving me unsatisfied earlier, you deserve to have your throat fucked until you gag,” he growls, and the heat in his voice makes me shiver. “But I am kind, so I will spare you from gagging as best as I can.”

I don’t quite stop a whimper. The numbing candy makes words difficult. They come out a little thick, a little clumsy as I say, “Thank you, sir.”

“Tell me what you want.”

I swallow. My tongue feels heavy, but I form the words anyway. “I want you to fuck my throat, sir.”

“Good boy.”

His grip on my hair tightens, and I open my mouth to allow him in. I draw in a breath as he thrusts deep, but he doesn’t seat himself fully. He tests me, poking at the back of my throat as if checking that I can handle him. My throat quivers, but thanks to the candy, there’s no automatic urge to pull away. He sets a steady pace, inching deeper with every thrust. My jaw aches as he works himself into my mouth.

He moans deeply, his grip tightening on my hair. The sound of his pleasure causes a thrill to rush through me. “Ready?”

I can’t give an answer, and he doesn’t seem to expect one. Instead, he thrusts deep, sliding to the back of my mouth with an ease that surprises me. My nose just barely brushes his navel, and he guides me back before thrusting in again, seating himself even deeper, holding me flush against him.

His cock slides down my throat, and even with the numbing candy, I can’t help but gag. I automatically try to pull away but Arlon tightens his grip, holding me there, my nose flush against his stomach. Tears leak from my eyes as my throat swallows around him. My head swims from the lack of air as I will myself to hold on for a little longer.

Then Arlon moans as his length swells. He cums hard, and I have no choice but to swallow what he gives me as his cock pulses and empties down my throat. It feels like it goes on forever, but I don’t pull away until Arlon lets me. When he finally releases my hair, I gag and cough, my mouth thick with the taste of him and a hint of sage. I wipe spit from my mouth, my hand shaking.

Then a glass of water appears in front of me. I go to reach for it, but Arlon gently pushes me away. “Hands at your sides, sweet boy.”

I do as told and he tilts the glass to my lips. I drink obediently, the cool water soothing my used throat. His fingers stroke through my hair as he murmurs soft praise that I barely register.

When I’m finished with the glass, he scoops me up, carrying me with ease. I’m in it deep, so I just rest against him, limp as a kitten. He takes me over to his chair and sits, pulling me onto his lap. He holds me close as he strokes my hair, but it takes a few minutes more before the quiet murmurings start to make sense as words. I flush when he calls me talented and capable and beautiful. I start to sink back into myself, and Arlon’s fingers are gentle as they brush the last of my tears from my face.

“I want to check in with you,” he says. “You are allowed to speak freely. How do you feel?”

I let my eyes close as I let out a quiet groan. “Exhausted,” I say, voice hoarse. My words are still a little thick coming off my tongue. “Today was… a lot.”

Arlon kisses my temple. “I pushed you today,” he says. “And you rose to the challenge admirably. I’m very proud of you, Dominai.”

My chest swells at the praise, and for once, I don’t flinch away from it. He’s right - today was a challenging day, but hearing him say it does something to me. I’ve always shied away from folks telling me the good things about myself because part of me could never believe them. Yet hearing Arlon say it breaks through the barrier of disbelief I’ve built around myself. For once, I’m proud of myself for what I was able to handle.

The fatigue hits me like I’ve run into a wall. I yawn and curl up tighter, trying to stave off the chill that the fire can’t quite dispel.

“Thank you,” I say and mean it. “But can I make a request?”

Arlon hums thoughtfully. “You may ask.”

I nestle against his chest, my nose brushing his neck. “Can I please have clothes tomorrow? It’s fucking cold in this place.”

“Winter has made an early appearance,” Arlon says. “With what we are doing tomorrow, you may have clothes.”

I open my eyes to look up at him. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

Arlon smiles. “You’ll just have to find out.”

5

THE HEART OF THE CRUX

When collaring, giving rewards for good behavior is just as important as administering punishments for infractions. When rewarding, be sure to utilize things that you know your conduit enjoys.

Advanced Casting Principles: Collaring by Felix Kessler

When I wake the next day, I watch the sky brighten to a dreary gray that threatens snow outside of Arlon’s big glass window. He didn’t give me permission to leave this morning, and I have very little desire to anyway. Other than a quick venture out to re-stoke the fire, I stay firmly planted under my pile of blankets at the foot of his bed.

Winter in the Hobokins usually meant I holed up in my cabin, only going out into the cold when I had to. I’d live off my stores, and I’d sleep more often than not. My own kind of hibernation. I give in to that familiar urge and doze for the better part of an hour before Arlon starts to stir.

“Are you awake, Dominai?”

I yawn and try to shake off the winter pall. “Yes, sir.”

He groans, and it sort of sounds like he wished I hadn’t answered. I hear him shift before he says, “Then get dressed. Be sure to dress warm.”

I do as asked, and Arlon gives me permission to go to my room to grab my winter cloak. I don my thick socks as well, brush my teeth and hair, before meeting him in the mess hall. We eat a quick breakfast of hot oats and dried fruit, but no matter how many times I catch his eye, he doesn’t give a hint as to what we’re up to today. At least he lets me sit at the table and use a spoon today.

We’re heading back towards his office when he holds out a hand. “Give me your spell necklace,” he says. “Charged focuses can act a bit strange where we’re going.”

I look at him in surprise, but I do as asked and pull it off. I only have one full row, and the wire-reinforced strand is stiff when Arlon takes it. When we reach his office, he unlocks a drawer on his desk that I only now notice is reinforced with abjuration. He stores my necklace next to his own before locking and sealing the drawer once more.

“Though it’s not exactly a secret, I don’t share what I’m about to show you with everyone,” he says. “So I would ask you to keep it quiet, even after this week is over.”

I blink in surprise, though a part of me is pleased that he’s sharing whatever it is with me. “Yes sir, of course.”

“Follow me,” Arlon says, and he seems a little excited. With how bundled we are, I expected to be heading outside, but instead, Arlon goes to the far wall of his office. His hands brush over one of the stones and something glows. A focus, I realize, sealed right into the mortar.

A crack appears, like the stones have suddenly come loose. But then, they fold back, opening to expose a narrow stone staircase that descends down and out of sight. I gape as Arlon takes one of the glowing orbs from its alcove in the wall. He smiles at me over his shoulder before he starts down. I follow him, feeling a rush of chilled air from below.

The staircase descends in a tight spiral, but the further we go, the colder it gets. I shiver and wrap my cloak closer around me, tailing close enough to stay in the light of Arlon’s orb. The stairs seem to go forever, but after a long minute, they come to an end and spill out into an open clearing. I gasp, my breath misting in front of me in the cold, humid air.

“Welcome to the heart of the Crux,” Arlon says. He keeps his voice low, but it echoes all the same, bouncing off the cavern around us. The light of the globe brightens to catch the pillars of shimmering magiline that jut from the ground. They erupt like frozen geysers from the veins of white that cut through the stone under our feet. Some of the pillars are thick as tree trunks, but the largest by far is the base of the main tower of the Crux.

It doesn’t matter that Arlon has ordered me to silence - I can’t muster the words anyway. Arlon runs a hand over one of the pillars, and it comes alive under his touch, shimmering with a ghostly white glow.

“This cave is where every focus you have ever used came from,” Arlon says. “Every spell we store and release is made possible by the magiline we’ve harvested from this place.”

The pillar he touched starts to hum gently, like a tuning fork being struck. The sound of it seems to wake up the others, and soon, the whole cavern is bathed in a soft white light. It ripples gently, like light shining through water.

“And right now, we are low on our stores.” He scoops a chisel and hammer from the ground before offering them to me. I take them and bow, my head spinning.

Arlon smiles. “Ask your questions.”

I hardly know where to start. “How old is this place?”

“The Crux as we know it has been an institution for about three hundred years,” he says. “But the magiline tower and this deposit existed long before that. Before it was altered, the main tower was a sacred site of the Lightbringer.”

“I’m sure that caused a bit of a stir when folks realized it could store magic,” I snort, imagining how the particularly pious folks in Airedale would react to that revelation.

Arlon chuckles at that. “Wars were fought over it. Even today, there’s still a not insubstantial part of the population that thinks wizards are vulgar heretics for desecrating the site. It doesn’t help that it took another three decades for the clerics of the Lightbringer to confirm the stance that magic was a gift sent from the divine. Even after they did, they didn’t want their goddess of light and life associated with things like sex and magic, so the site was re-associated to the goddess Coition.”

“Coition?” I repeat.

“The patron goddess of sex, pleasure, and as of about three hundred years ago, magic, which certainly upped her standing in the greater pantheon,” Arlon says. “Coming from a conservative village like Airedale, I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of her.”

“We only had shrines to the Lightbringer and Quietus,” I admit.

“Then you have a whole pantheon of lesser gods and goddesses to explore, but at least you had the main two,” Arlon says. “Once the dust settled, use of the main tower’s resources was granted to a wizard named Eroland Lockhart with the blessing of the regent of Straetham and the grudging approval of the clerics of the Lightbringer. Once Eroland showed how useful magic could be when it was able to be stored and focused, the site was entrusted fully to him, along with the title of Grandmaster.”

“What did wizards do before then?” I wonder.

“Very little, though there are notable records of a few battlefield encounters that turned the tide of a fight,” Arlon says. “Needless to say, direct casting in a situation like that wasn’t comfortable or safe for any involved.”

I can’t stop a small laugh at the thought of fucking in the middle of a battlefield. “Thank the gods for magiline.”

“Indeed,” Arlon says with a huff of a laugh. “Once Eroland was given full authority, he laid the foundations for what would become the Crux. Over the course of a century, the main tower was hollowed out and reinforced with stone and mortar to make it the structure we use today. He never did see the culmination of his work, but I think Eroland would be proud of what the Crux has become.”

I look at the massive base of the tower with new appreciation. Arlon leads me through the maze of magiline to an area that looks far less untouched. A couple of the large pillars have been toppled, though what remains of them still shift with light in time with the others. I look at the chisel and hammer in my hand and ask, “Do you mine all material for the focuses yourself?”

“Keeping an inventory of focuses is a duty of the Grandmaster of the Crux, though it’s not required that we quarry it ourselves. Fawn certainly never did, but I enjoy the work,” he says with a shrug. “I keep track of how many are made, how many are used and any that are lost. Since you currently only have a divination mastery, you haven’t had to report on the spells you’ve cast because you don’t take a focus with you once the spell is complete.”

I’ve seen the spell notes that Olbric and Galiva and Cancassi fill out, but they haven’t made me do it yet. “Fucking hell, that sounds like a lot of work,” I say, but quickly amend, “Sir.”

“Once you get a handle on the numbers, it’s not so bad,” he says. “Though I’ll admit, I’m still reconciling how many are missing after all of the chaos with Diran and his ilk. No matter which way I look at the numbers, we’re missing between forty and seventy, which is far too many. And that’s not including whatever amount they managed to steal from the Black Burrows.”

Anger colors his voice, and I can’t blame him. That’s a whole lot of firepower they could be carrying. I whistle, feeling a little overwhelmed at the grandeur around me. “I gather that magiline is valuable.”

“Very,” Arlon says. “Even those without magic covet it as a status symbol instead of recognizing it as the very useful and finite resource that it is. You wouldn’t believe how many nobles I get knocking on my door petitioning for some magiline bauble or trophy. They still haven’t learned that I won’t grant it.”

I look around the vast cave and see that only one small section of it has been carved away. “At least we’re sitting on a good store of it,” I say, and I’m unable to stop a bit of awe from leaking into my voice.

“And we have another in the mine in the Hobokins,” Arlon says. “Though from what our canvassers have discovered, it’s a small deposit. We’ll drain it and store what we find here before we reopen the mine. We’ll have to monitor the site in case more is found as they excavate further.”

I watch as he takes his own hammer and chisel and crouches over the fallen pillar. He wedges his chisel at a junction in the shining white stone. He taps it, once, twice, three times before there’s a soft schnick. A crack appears, and he carefully scoots the chisel down and does it again, tapping until a long, even piece breaks off. It’s only then I notice that the magiline naturally forms in pieces the shape of a honeycomb. Arlon sets the yard-long piece aside and says, “We’ll take that back upstairs where we can cut and polish it. But we need four more pieces just like that before we do, so get to work.”

“Yes, sir,” I say and move to the pillar next to him. It takes my unpracticed hands far longer to separate one of the long pieces, but it’s satisfying when it does come off. The honeycomb piece really isn’t that much wider than a focus, but the edges flake curiously, almost like fine hair.

Arlon separates three more pieces in the time it takes me to do one. When we have five rods total, Arlon bundles them together with some twine from his pocket and hands me the stack.

“Don’t drop them,” he says. “They’re rather fragile before they’re trimmed down.”

They’re no light parcel, but I carry them over my shoulder, trying my best not to smack them against the winding stair as we head back up. I still do a couple of times, but they’re light taps and don’t seem to harm the magiline any.

I’m breathing hard by the time we make it into Arlon’s office. He seals the entryway behind him before saying, “We’ll take these through the posterior courtyard.”

Even though I’ve passed by it many times, I rarely have need to go into it, save to visit Mo in the stables. It’s bigger than the anterior yard, though far less accommodating. It’s where most of the Crux’s non-magical work happens. There are a number of outer buildings - the laundry, the kitchens, the stables, and the like - but Arlon leads me to a small workshop set against the outer wall. The door unlocks as he touches it, and I feel the strong abjuration surrounding the building.

Inside, the floor is littered with magiline powder that sparkles like freshly fallen snow, coating every surface of what looks like a carpenter’s workspace. There’s a long worktable and various saws, measuring sticks, and chisels hanging on the wall. Arlon wastes no time showing me what to do, and he explains everything as he does it.

First, he takes one of the magiline rods and cuts it into three more or less even pieces with a sturdy saw. The fibrous stone flakes and peels a bit as his saw cuts through it. He settles one of the pieces in between two padded clamps before cranking the clamp closed.

“Not too tight or you’ll crack it,” he warns.

Next, he takes a coring saw and sets it carefully at the center of the rod before he starts to drill in. It’s a slow process, and even in the chilly workshop, Arlon starts to sweat. When the rod is cored, he hands it to me.

“That’s a two-inch core,” he says. “We want to make spheres, so use that measuring stick to mark two inch increments all the way down.”

I do as I’m told and measure carefully before marking the magiline core with a charcoal pencil. Once I’m finished, Arlon checks my work before nodding and telling me to saw through the lines I’ve made. By the time I’m through, I’ve got six two-inch pieces, and I’ve also worked up a sweat. He has me do the same to the cored piece, though he has me cut it in half inch increments for rings.

Arlon shows me the lathe he uses to finish shaping them, but he takes that duty himself. I’m glad for it - the foot pedal that makes the thing spin gets going quick, and the sharp tools he sets against it grind so loud it makes my teeth ache. While he widens the hole on the rings, shapes the spheres and drills a hole through the marbles so they can be strung, he puts me on coring and cutting duty, which is only a little less noisy.

But by mid-afternoon, I’m through coring and cutting all of the pieces, though my hands are blistered and aching. If Arlon usually does all of this himself, it’s no wonder his hands are so calloused. He’s only slightly behind me on the lathe, and if I thought I was done, he points to the pile of shaped marbles and rings before saying, “Polish those.”

I barely stop a groan. We’re well past lunch and edging closer to dinner, and I don’t think he’s going to let us eat until we’re finished. I get to work, but fortunately there’s a second lathe I can use. I spin each ring, and marble individually, using a cloth and a handful of sand to buff away the fibrous residue before I hit it with an oiled rag. When all is said and done, I have a perfectly polished focus in my hands, shining and ready for use.

We do that hundreds more times, and when the sun goes down and snow starts to flurry, Arlon lights a fire for us to keep going. It’s well past dinner and hunger gnaws at my stomach, but finally, finally, I finish polishing the last one. Each rod nets us just shy of 100 focuses, giving us a total of nearly 500 in all. Arlon scoops every last one into a sack that he tosses over his shoulder before clapping me on mine.

“Good work, Dominai.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say before my stomach lets out a loud grumble.

Arlon chuckles and says, “I warned the cooks we would be working late. They will have left food in my office. Let’s go eat.”

After I’m fed, I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, but Arlon insists we go down to the baths. Coated in magiline dust and sweat, I can’t even complain. I don’t know what time it is, but it feels late - far later than I normally stay up. The fact that the baths are empty when we reach them only confirms my suspicions.

Arlon chooses the pool in the back, and I follow his lead. Magiline dust falls from my clothes as I strip them off. Arlon’s are even more coated, and the shining powder sticks to his skin as he pulls his shirt off.

I sink into the pool with a groan, only to hiss when my blistered hands touch the hot water.

“Let me see,” Arlon says as he slides in beside me.

I hold my hands out to him, and he tsks. He washes them gently, sending a sparkling cloud of magiline dust into the water. “Finish bathing, and I’ll tend to them in my room.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He doesn’t order me to do anything, but I grab a washcloth and start to bathe the dust off him. He seems surprised but not displeased as he lets me do as I like. As I do, I realize that this is the first time I’ve seen Arlon fully naked.

I’d guess he’s about twice my age - mid to late forties. Sturdily built, broad and well muscled, though maybe not as much as he used to be. He’s got dark hair on his arms and chest, though just like up top, parts of it are starting to turn gray along with a few streaks through his charcoal beard. He has that rough non-bloodline edge about him, the same as I do, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s why he stays covered most of the time.

I take my time bathing him. When I move on to wash his salt and pepper hair, I’m rewarded with a sigh of pleasure. Once he rinses the soap out, I go over the rest of him, mapping the old scars that mar his swarthy skin. As I trace a particularly impressive one across his chest, I wonder, not for the first time, what a man like Arlon did before he came to the Crux.

Apparently he’s not one to remain idle either, and after a few minutes of enjoying my attentions, he starts to wash the magiline dust off of me. I’m almost dozing by the time he finishes, but then he pulls me onto his lap. As tired as I am, my cock twitches inside of the cage. It’s been a long, busy day, and he’s barely even touched me, but now, his rough hands send a thrill up my spine.

“Did you enjoy today?” Arlon asks as his fingers brush gentle circles over my hip bones.

“Yes, sir.” It almost felt like choring in the Hobokins. A long day of work that was only finished when it got done.

“We managed to do nearly twice what I can manage on my own,” he says. “Your help was appreciated.” His fingers stroke down my thighs before he toys with the cage around my cock. It sends a jolt through me, and as tired as I am, I shiver. “I think you deserve a reward.”

I can’t quite muffle a quiet sound of need. “Thank you, sir.”

The cage won’t come off - that much I know, but I shudder as his cock stirs underneath me. His finger hooks around the ring on my collar, and he stands, bringing me with him. He grabs a bottle of lotion out of the pocket of his discarded trousers before he pushes me over the lip of the pool, resting my knees on the stone seat. It’s just enough that my ass is out of the water, my cage brushing the magiline wall of the pool. I shiver as my hands rest against the cold, wet stone, but then his slicked length prods at my hole.

He fucks me right there, his fingers hooked around my collar as he takes me from behind. He doesn’t prepare me, and the stretch of his cock borders on painful as he thrusts deep. I force myself to relax, moaning as his cock drags across that sweet spot inside of me. It’s a thrill to be used, a thrill to know that I can take him now, whenever and however he wants me. And tonight, he wants me rough.

His hips snap against mine, but the grip on my collar keeps me upright, constricting just enough that I start to feel light-headed. My cries echo around the empty bath even as Arlon speeds up, reaching deep as he spears me over and over. The cage around my cock rattles with each hard thrust, a thin stream of liquid oozing from my tip and into the pool.

In spite of my cock being locked away, I feel something building. The drag of Arlon’s length over that sweet spot inside of me wrings a low moan out of me. Pleasure builds behind my balls and at the base of my trapped cock. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, but with every deep thrust, the pleasure mounts before reaching a tipping point.

A very different kind of orgasm rocks through me, but I know it for one all the same. Nothing else could feel so good. I shudder with release, a long quavering moan escaping me even as Arlon speeds up. Every thrust sustains it, stokes it until my mind is blank of everything else but the pleasure that seems to radiate through my whole body.

My soft cock dribbles liquid through the bars of the cage, my exhausted body shaking as pleasure saps what little strength I have left. My arms fail to hold me up, and I collapse, laying flat against the ground and see the magiline shimmer where I touch it. Then Arlon grips my shoulders and thrusts deep as he swells inside of me. I cry out as he fills me, adding one more sensation on top of everything else. I’m staggered by it, my vision swimming as I try to make sense of what just happened. Under my cheek, the magiline lip of the pool sparks and ripples with color.

Behind me, Arlon breathes heavy, his head resting against my shoulders. For a long moment, neither of us move. He presses a kiss against the small of my back before he pulls out of my sore and used hole.

“Fucking hell, Dom,” he says. He gathers me up in his arms and sinks back into the pool, settling me onto his lap. “Have you ever had an internal orgasm before?”

I give a small, exhausted laugh and sink bonelessly against his chest. “No, sir. But you may have ruined regular ones for me.”

Arlon strokes my wet hair away from my face. “Wait until I give you both at once,” he rumbles into my ear. “Then you can say I’ve ruined you.”

I shiver and let my eyes slide closed. “I hope that’s a promise, sir.”

6

ERRAND BOY

Collaring means taking control of your conduit in a way that extends beyond casting. Reinforcing your control through mundane tasks can be an effective way to heighten the spells you create with your conduit at a later time.

Advanced Casting Principles: Collaring by Felix Kessler

*Please note that this chapter contains sex toys under clothes while in public and brief mentions of rape and sexual assault.

After breakfast the next morning, Arlon punishes me for cumming without his permission. It’s not my place to point out that it’s entirely his fault, so I take it in stride.

“You could have wasted the conjuration you’ve been building,” he admonishes as he spanks my ass red over his lap.

When he finally finishes, thirty smacks total that he makes me count, I move to get up, but he pushes me back down. “Now that we know you can work yourself to an internal orgasm, I’ll have to block that entrance and use your throat for the rest of the week.”

I whimper at the heat in his voice. He is in a mood this morning. The day’s barely even started, and he’s already shot me so deep into a headspace that I’m having trouble thinking straight. My head hangs over his lap, thoughts slowed to a trickle.

He spreads me wide as he pulls out a sizable glass plug from his desk. I barely get a chance to glimpse it before he slicks it and pushes it into my sore hole. My face heats as it settles inside of me, sending fizzles of pleasure through me.

“Just as with the collar, you are not allowed to remove this without permission,” he says as he gives the flared base a tug before pushing it back in.

“Yes, sir,” I gasp, breathless already.

Arlon finally allows me up, and my legs shake as I get to them. I pull my trousers up, feeling full and unsatisfied with the plug in me. It makes my trapped cock ache, nerves alight with unmet need.

Arlon’s smile is pure sadism as he grabs my spell necklace from the drawer he locked it in yesterday. He hands it back to me and says, “I need you to run some errands for me.”

I take my spells from him even as my stomach drops. My eyes go wide as he brings out a pile of sealed letters.

“Do you know where the merchant’s guild is?” he asks. “It’s the collection of red buildings just outside of the market.”

“Y-yes, sir,” I say as I drag my scattered thoughts back into my head. I know I’ve seen them in the times I’ve gone to market with Galiva and Olbric.

“These need to be delivered to the main building,” he says. “You’ll need to speak to a woman named Katarine. Tell her these ones are meant for our sister tower out east - non-urgent, obviously, and these are the remains of our winter requisitions.”

He points to two small stacks that are wrapped in twine before pointing to a single letter, written on fancy parchment. “And that needs to go to the Lord Chamberlain at the palace. Do not let one of her attendants take it. This needs to go into her hands only. Do you know where the palace is?”

The monolith of a structure on top of the hill is impossible to miss. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, repeat those instructions back to me.”

My mind is reeling from the fact that he plans on sending me to the fucking palace with a cage around my cock and a plug in my ass. Arlon raises an eyebrow expectantly. “Ah - fuck, sir. Those two to Katarine at the merchant’s guild, that one to be sent, that one for them,” I say, pointing at each stack as I do. “And that one goes to the palace to the Lord Chamberlain only.”

“Good,” Arlon says with a smile. “Paulette has come down with a cold or she would normally deliver them herself. Fortunately, you’re here, so I told her that it was in capable hands.”

My face feels hot enough to catch fire. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon grabs a few coins from his pocket and hands them over as he says, “While you are out, you are allowed to speak, eat, and do whatever necessary functions you must while you’re away. Be sure you pick up lunch and bring me back a meat pie. Not from that place on Hilltop either - get one from Mabel.”

I swear under my breath as I take the coins and put them into my own pocket.

“What was that, Dominai?”

“I - fuck. Nothing, sir,” I say and draw in a breath to try and calm myself down. Of all the things I expected Arlon to put me through this week, leaving the Crux was not one of them. I don’t like the city much anyway - it’s too loud, too busy. But the idea of going out like this sends a very different kind of dread through me.

Arlon’s expression softens. He gets up and takes my spells from my hands before he drapes them around my neck. He puts the letters in my hands before he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“You can do this, Dom,” he says gently. “Trust yourself. I would never send you out if I didn’t think it was safe to do so. I know you can be polite, and that will be all that’s required of you at the palace. So, take a minute. Get your head in the right place.”

I draw in a breath and let it out like I’m about to go into the silver. I do that a few more times, letting his words sink in. I can do this, right? I can do this. I rub my hand over my face and say, “Yes, sir.”

Arlon smiles, and there’s something like pride on his face. He presses one more kiss to the top of my head. “Galiva will be waiting at the gate to walk with you into town,” he says. “Dress warm.”

I grab my winter cloak, a scarf to cover my collar, and a bag to carry the letters in before I head out. Just as Arlon said, Galiva’s waiting for me at the gate. I hurry over to her, though it makes the bulb in me shift in a way I can’t ignore. I’m happy to walk again as we head across the drawbridge together.

“So you’ve finally been let off the leash,” she teases.

“No leash yet, though I wouldn’t put it past Arlon,” I say with a lopsided grin.

“And talking, too!”

I hold up the messenger bag. “He’s made me a delivery boy today. Though I think I prefer being a fuckboy, honestly.”

“You’ll do fine,” she promises. “I don’t know why you make such a big deal out of the city.”

“It’s big! And loud! And there’s, like, five thousand people in it!”

Galiva hums. “Try forty thousand.”

“Not helping!”

Galiva tsks and puts an arm around my waist before kissing my cheek. “I’ll stick with you until we’re past the marketplace. How does that sound?”

The market is always overwhelming, what with folks shouting at me from every angle to buy something. Not to mention, the last time I went into town with Olbric, some urchin swiped my purse.

“Thanks,” I say, trying not to feel silly. I’m a grown-ass man - it shouldn’t be a big deal to go into town. “Where are you headed?”

“To visit Bridgette’s apothecary first. I’m trying to help the Quartermaster get the winter requisition for the clinic settled while Garrett’s out east. Then it’s yet another shift,” she says through a sigh.

“Sick of needles yet?” I tease.

Galiva snorts. “Don’t have to break out the needles unless it’s something really serious.”

“Yeah?”

“Part of a corpimancy mastery means knowing what natural remedies will work when magical ones can’t,” she says. “Speaking of, what the hell did you do to your hands?”

“Oh.” I look down at the neat bandages Arlon had wrapped last night. “Yesterday was a long day of helping Arlon make focuses. It’s just a couple of blisters.”

Galiva chuckles. “He really is working you to the bone, isn’t he?”

“It was fun,” I say with a shrug. “Informative.” And ended in the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, but I don’t say that part out loud.

“You and I have very different definitions of fun,” she says. “I hope he rewarded you well for that.”

My finger hooks through the ring on my collar. “Oh, he did.”

Galiva gives me a sly grin. “So you’re enjoying being collared?”

“I am. Quite a bit,” I say even though it feels strange to admit. This whole week, I’ve felt the same surrender of responsibility that abjuration gives me, but amplified tenfold. Never in my life did I expect to be walking towards the palace with my cock in a cage and a plug in my ass, but I’m doing it because the decision isn’t up to me. “It’s… freeing in a twisted sort of way.”

Galiva smiles at that. “Arlon collared me for my abjuration mastery so I definitely understand what you mean. He has a way of empowering you even while he’s taken your power away.”

I hum thoughtfully even though I’m stuck on the image of Galiva naked and collared. It’s a pretty picture.

“Do you think it’ll help with your casting block?” she asks, snapping me out of it.

“I think so?” I say. “If nothing else, he’s certainly given me some ideas.”

“I’ll bet,” Galiva says knowingly. “Arlon is nothing if not an efficient caster.”

The second the words leave her mouth, the bulb inside of me starts to buzz. It catches me so off guard, I nearly trip.

Galiva grabs my arm to steady me. “Shit! Are you alright?”

“Fucking hell,” I moan miserably when I realize that the godsdamn plug has a focus sealed in it. It went in so quick I didn’t get a chance to see it.

“Ooh,” she says in understanding. “He’s sent you out with something in you, hasn’t he.”

“How the hell is it just now buzzing?”

Galiva chuckles. “They can be activated a couple of ways. My guess is he has a linked focus that he touches whenever he wants to turn it on.”

“Of course he does,” I say, but sigh as the buzzing relents. I straighten and drag my fingers through my hair, trying to right myself again. “Why do I get the feeling he’s going to do that at the worst times.”

“Oh, you can count on it.”

I groan and rub my face but start walking again. The thrum of pleasure starts to subside, but it takes a few long moments before I can think straight. The ache in my cock never quite goes away. At least it gives me something other than my nerves to focus on.

“Where’s Arlon sending you?” Galiva asks.

“I’m taking some letters to the merchant’s guild,” I say and pat my bag. “Then sir is sending me to the palace to drop off something with the Lord Chamberlain.” Galiva gives me a look, and it takes me a long second to realize what I’ve said. “Fuck - Arlon, I mean.”

Galiva gives me a sly grin. “Gods, you’re still half in it, aren’t you? The perfect conduit.”

I flush and try to snap myself out of it, though Galiva’s right. With all that’s hidden under my clothes, Arlon’s hold on me is strong even though he’s back at the Crux. That thought alone makes a thrill of pleasure tighten my gut.

“I’m a little afraid what’ll happen once this week is over,” I admit.

“What do you mean?”

I sigh and rub the back of my neck. “I just… I’ve never fallen into it this deep before. Never given quite as much as I have with him. I’m… afraid I won’t know how to bounce back when I’m no longer bound to him.”

“Aah,” she says in understanding. “Collaring can be pretty emotional. It creates a unique kind of bond between the conduit and their caster. Arlon knows that better than most - it’s why he doesn’t collar very often and why he’s very picky about who he does it with. It’s just as emotional and personal for him. He isn’t going to drop you after the week is over.”

I let out a long breath, but hearing her say it takes a bit of the weight off. “Thanks, Gal.”

“Besides, I’ll personally be happy once you’re freed,” she says. “Olbric’s been too busy talking transmutation with Cancassi to do much casting. I’ve done some more divination with Margeurite and Allisande, but helping at the clinic has taken most of my time. I’m getting bored and pincushioned doing corpimancy by myself.”

I laugh at that and kiss her cheek. “I miss you, too.”

When we get through the main throng of the marketplace, Galiva asks, “How are you feeling about going on your own from here?”

I take a breath as I look at the bustle around me. No one so much as glances twice at us, and that helps to put me at ease some. I double-check that my purse is safely tucked away, and make sure my spells are still where they’re supposed to be.

“I think I’ll be okay,” I say and am a little surprised by it.

“Got your head on straight enough to get where you need to go?”

I chuckle as a blush warms my face. I’ll never be able to forget that the plug’s there, but the walk into town helped clear the fog of conspace. “I can do it.”

“Good boy,” Galiva says before she kisses my cheek. “Have a safe trip.”

“You, too.”

Galiva disappears into the throng, and I sigh as I head off. It’s never not busy, but I’m able ignore the hubbub as I cut through the crowd near the back of the market. Yet even without Galiva, the nerves I had felt about going into the city diminish some. Having a job to do helps - I have that to focus on rather than the hustle and bustle around me.

Thankfully, the merchant’s guild isn’t easy to miss. It’s a large collection of red buildings just off the main stretch of the market. The main building must be the largest of them, and I barely make it to the front door when the bulb starts to buzz again. I swear and let go of the handle to lean against the wall. I bite back a moan as I ride it out, eyes clenched shut. I don’t know how long it keeps it up, but when it finally stops, I let out a shaking breath and rub the heat from my face before I head inside.

The petite woman behind the desk gives me an odd look. “Are you sick?” she asks, eying me warily.

“I-no, I’m fine,” I say, even though my ears redden all over again. “Grandmaster Arlon sent me with missives from the Crux.”

“Ah,” the woman says as if being a wizard explains away any strangeness. “I’ll fetch Katarine. Have a seat.”

I do as asked and take a seat on the chair in the corner just as the bulb starts up again. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying and failing to focus on anything else. It’s a few minutes later when I realize someone is talking to me.

“Hey - hey wizard!”

I snap my eyes open to see an older, rather severe woman frowning down at me. Her brown skin is only a little lighter than Galiva’s and her arms are crossed over her chest impatiently, one eyebrow reaching up into her curly gray hair.

“You’ve got something you need sent?” she asks.

With the plug still buzzing away, I swear and get to my feet. “Yes, sorry,” I say and clear my throat, trying my best to hide the tremor in it. “Here.” I reach into the bag and grab the two letter bundles. It takes me a second to remember which one is which. “These are requisitions for the Crux, and these are meant for our sister tower out east.”

Katarine takes them with a nod, though she’s still giving me an odd look out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve got some for you to take back,” she says and goes to an assortment of shelves behind the desk. She pulls out the stack of letters as, somehow, the buzzing gets more intense. I bite back a whimper as Katarine returns.

On top of the stack is a letter that has been marked with a score of red across the front. “This was just brought in by one of our caravans today. It’s from Cairish on the edge of the Gonia desert. It’s been six months in transit, but the Shykh requested it be sent to the Crux as quickly as we could get it here. The rest is the standard incoming.”

The plug finally relents, and I let out a long, shaky sigh as I take the letters. “I’ll be sure it gets to the Grandmaster.”

Katarine is already going through the requisitions list. “You can tell Arlon and Paulette my runners will have most of this for them next week.”

“Thank you.”

Katarine gives me a wan smile, looking me over once more before and says, “Don’t let him run you too hard.”

I give a lopsided grin and double-check that my collar is covered. “Yes, ma’am.”

It’s a relief to leave, though now I have no choice but to head towards the palace. It’s impossible to miss - a stone monolith on top of the hill of Straetham. It’s also deceptively far away and takes me the better part of an hour to get there. The plug goes off three times during the trip, and at one point, it gets so intense that I have to duck into an alley and focus on keeping my legs under me until it stops.

So with my cock throbbing in the cage, I walk up to the main gates of the palace. Two guards are posted, but one comes out to meet me, armor gleaming and spear in hand.

“What business do you have?” he asks. He somehow manages to sound bored and arrogant at the same time.

“I’m from the Crux,” I say and pull my spell necklace out from under my shirt. I regret not wearing my robes, but as nice as they are, they aren’t warm. “I have a message from Grandmaster Arlon for the Lord Chamberlain.”

The guard smirks as he looks me over, creating a dimple on his cheek to match the one on his chin. “Give it here, thot. I’ll take it to her.”

I bristle at the slur and straighten my back. I’m not about to let this asshole tell me what to do. Arlon had been very specific with his instructions.

“I’m to deliver it to her directly,” I say. The guard’s smirk disappears as his eyes narrow, but I don’t back down. I really just want to go home, and this guy’s the last thing standing in my way. “Look, I’ve got nothing left to do today but deliver this message, so you could save us both a lot of time and tongue wagging if you’d let me do my job.”

I idly toy with a focus on my necklace, and something like unease flashes across the guard’s face. He glances at his buddy before he gives me a once over, expression bordering on disgust. “Follow me.”

I flash my brightest smile and follow him through the gates. He leads me across an expansive courtyard and into a large atrium. If I thought the Crux was lavish, it’s got nothing on this place. Marble inlaid with gold vines rests underfoot while lush red curtains frame the glass windows. A large chandelier hangs overhead, and I’m surprised to see the same magical globes we use at the Crux inlaid instead of candles.

We cast that spell a couple times throughout the summer, and I flush at the memory. I bet it’d make this guy’s hair curl telling him how we do it. I keep the information to myself as the guard turns to me, still frowning.

“Wait here,” he says before he sweeps off down one of the many halls.

I watch him go before letting out a long, low whistle as I look at the grandeur around me. It’s a whole lot of money spent on a room that’s practically empty. What a fucking waste. There’s not even a chair for me to sit in while I wait. Instead, I walk over to the window and glance out.

There’s another courtyard, even more lavish than the one I came through. It’s filled with carefully tended trees that have started to shed their red and orange leaves in colorful puddles. I see a group of finely dressed people emerge from the far arch to head down the colorful path, but Arlon chooses that moment to start buzzing again.

I swear and flush hot, stepping out of sight of the window. I bite back a moan and lean my head against the wall, all too aware that anyone could walk from one of these halls and see me. I press my hand over the cage, using my cloak as cover as I vainly try to rub myself for any relief. I can’t, obviously, and I groan as I imagine Arlon smiling behind his desk. My cock throbs and my legs tremble by the time it finally turns off. I swear and straighten up, trying to shake it off, though no matter what I do, I can’t get the heat to fade from my face.

Fortunately and unfortunately, the asshole of a guard is in no hurry, because I must wait the better part of an hour. Arlon’s distracting reminders are coming more often because it goes off five more times. It’s past lunch, so I bet he’s wondering where the hell I am.

I start to think that the guard has abandoned me here when I hear footsteps coming down one of the halls. I turn just in time to come face to face with a silver-haired woman, dressed from neck to ankle in blue finery. On her lapel is a gold crest of rearing griffins that I recognize as the King’s seal.

I clear my throat before I ask, “My Lord Chamberlain?”

“Yes,” she says sourly. “And who are you?”

“Master Dominai from the Crux,” I say before I hand Arlon’s letter over. “Grandmaster Arlon asked me to deliver this to you.”

“Something of utmost importance, I’m sure,” she says and sounds none too pleased that I’m here. She snatches the letter out of my hand and pulls the wax seal open. Her eyes scan the page, and her scowl deepens. It strikes me that I wish I knew what it said.

I hear others coming down the hall and wonder if some meeting just got finished. Their voices sound like so many clucking hens as they echo off the high walls. They round the corner, but as soon as they catch sight of me, they fall quiet. I look over and my stomach lurches, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck.

I bow low to avoid the eyes of King Thermilious. I’ve never seen him before, but the thin gold crown that rests on top of his head and the gold embroidered finery he wears makes him impossible to mistake.

“Who is this?” he asks, his voice clipped and cultured.

“Master Dominai of the Crux,” the Lord Chamberlain says. “And he brought this.”

I straighten and try not to stare as I take the King in. He’s got to be a few years younger than me, but the gold circlet that rests on his dark brown hair seems to add years to him. He’s got a pale face that looks like it could be sculpted from marble, and there are echoes of his cousin Allisande in his features. I can’t help but admit that he’s one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.

Ice blue eyes skim over Arlon’s letter, his expression carefully neutral. When he’s finished, he hands the letter back to me. “You may tell Grandmaster Arlon that my answer remains the same,” he says. “He was unable to extract information about Diran Barclay’s whereabouts the first time, and I have no faith a second time will prove fruitful. Besides, by the end of the month, he will no longer have to worry about Jaret Voss and Lucien Carter.”

The heat vanishes from my face. Oh, fuck. Of course this is about the rogue wizards. It takes me a second to find my voice, and I hope to the gods I’m addressing him correctly. “I’m not sure what you mean, Sire.”

The look he gives me is hard as stone. “I will send notice when the execution date is set,” he says. “Be sure that Grandmaster Arlon is informed.”

I bow again, my heart in my throat. “Yes, your Majesty.”

“There you are. I was just starting to worry,” Arlon says when I enter his office. He’s seated behind his desk, going through a stack of spell notes. He’s got a logbook in front of him that he squints down at through a pair of spectacles. When I don’t answer, he looks up. “What’s wrong?”

I hand him back his own letter first. He frowns as he takes it, and that frown deepens when I tell him what the King said. Arlon runs a hand over his face as he sinks further into his chair, looking tired.

“I was a fool to turn Jaret and Lucien over to the royal authorities so quickly,” he says. “The interrogation I conducted on the road was less than my best.”

I bow low and it’s enough to get a small smile out of him. “Speak freely.”

“Do you think they know something?” I ask. Allisande, Margeurite, and I have had no luck divining anything about Diran, and it’s been infuriating knowing that he’s still out there when we’ve turned up fuck all in spite of our best efforts.

Arlon’s expression darkens. “I’m sure of it.”

“Then why the hell won’t the King give you a second shot at them?”

“You’re still new to Straetham politics,” Arlon mutters, sounding, somehow, even more tired. “The Barclays are tied to the crown of the kingdom of Immenbach to the east. They’re a powerful house, holding a large amount of land and wealth. Though Immenbach swore fealty to Straetham generations ago, recently… fractures have been appearing. If Thermilious allowed us to interrogate the captured wizards - if we found Diran, it would put him in a… precarious position. Retaliation against Diran could start a war with Immenbach, though the Barclays have patently refused to condemn Diran’s actions. So, instead of entertaining that whole mess, Thermilious refuses my petitions and hopes that Diran has the sense to stay away, or return to the safety of his home for good.”

I stare at Arlon, my hands clenched into fists. “Diran kidnapped and raped his cousin and three others! And Thermilious is just going to sit there with his thumbs up his ass because he’s too afraid of pissing the Barclays off?”

Arlon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “So it would seem,” he mutters. “This only means we’ll have to track him down another way. As far as I’m concerned, the fact that Diran’s a disgraced wizard of the Crux means that this is a matter of magical importance. By the King’s own decree, that means it is my jurisdiction.”

Anger simmers behind Arlon’s eyes, and I can’t stop a shiver. I remember that look from when we first found the goblin hovel Diran had made into a prison. “I intend to find him,” Arlon says. “I’ll apologize to Thermilious later.” He sighs, and the anger is replaced by weariness. He pulls his glasses off and rubs his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dom. I didn’t realize you would encounter the King during this trip.”

My grin comes out crooked. “Well, sir, you missed nearly bringing me to orgasm in front of him by a whole five minutes.” After I had left the palace, the damn plug had started buzzing again, so intense that I thought I was going to finish like I had in the baths last night.

The declaration breaks through the pall of the conversation, just like I hoped it would. Arlon gives a bark of a laugh as I hand over the other missives. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh before. It’s a nice sound.

“There’s an urgent one from Cairish on top, sir.”

He scoffs and slices through the wax seal with a small dagger on his desk. It’s like he already knows what it is. He barely reads it, before rolling his eyes and tossing it onto his desk in disgust.

“Certainly not urgent,” he mutters. “Yet another threat from the Cairish Shykh claiming I have corrupted his son. Every time a caravan passes by the desert, he sends an urgent missive to remind me.”

“To be fair, sir. If they’re at the Crux, you probably have.”

Arlon snorts. “No more than you, I’m sure.” At my questioning look, he says, “The Shykh’s son is Olbric.”

My voice emerges in a croak. “Oh.”

Arlon chuckles and gets up, coming around his desk to plant a kiss on my forehead. “Was going into town as bad as you thought it would be?”

“Not until that last part,” I admit. I would have balked if Arlon hadn’t ordered me to do it, and yet the reality of facing the city alone was nothing compared to the big, scary thing I’d built up in my head.

Arlon pulls me against his chest, and his arms are a comforting weight around me. “I’m proud of you, Dom. I know that this wasn’t an easy step for you.”

I sigh and sink against him. “I’m just glad to be back, sir.”

Today was a whole lot of people and a whole lot of talking after not talking for half a week. Not to mention one very nerve-wracking conversation too many. But then I remember the one thing I didn’t do.

“Oh, hell.”

“What?”

I groan and bury my face into his thick shirt. “I forgot lunch.”

Arlon rubs my neck before his hand slides up into my hair. He grips hard before tugging my head back, surprising a gasp out of me. He tilts my head aside, and I tense, but he only presses a deliberately soft kiss against my neck.

“Then we’ll just have to wait until after dinner to take a trip downstairs.”

I shudder at the promise in his voice. His mood hasn’t gone anywhere while I was away. “Yes, sir.”

7

PUNISHMENT

When a conduit is collared for a period of time, enacting punishments can be an effective way to obtain multiple spells during a single session. A caster can fluidly move from one school to another. For example, evocation can be used as a painful correction while enchantment can be used to ensure the lesson sticks.

Advanced Casting Principles: Collaring by Felix Kessler

*Please note that this is an intense chapter that involves elements of bondage and pain play, as well as humiliation and degradation in the form of piss play.

I’m allowed to have dinner clothed and seated, which only makes me wonder how bad my punishment is going to be after. Arlon’s given me an hour to do whatever I need to, so I eat quick before hurrying to the baths to use the facilities and take a quick rinse. I clean the plug in the sink before I ease it back into me with a shiver, both anticipating and dreading what Arlon has planned.

My nerves thrum as I head into his office, but he’s not there. Instead, the door to the dungeon is open, the stairway beyond it lit. I walk past his desk and head down the stairs, my hand brushing the cold stone wall. Below, the lights are dimmed, and I barely step onto the floor before something falls over my eyes.

“Be still,” Arlon says when I jump. “No talking. You aren’t allowed to speak until you have formed a proper apology.”

I shiver, biting my lip to stop my normal “yes, sir” and nod. He finishes tightening the blindfold around my head, and I feel that it’s leather, not cloth. My clothes come off shortly after, and Arlon’s hands are rough and efficient as he strips me. He lifts my spell necklace off last, leaving me with nothing but my cage, the plug, and my collar. Leather cuffs tighten around my wrists before they latch together in front of me. And just like that, I’m trapped.

“Your punishment will start with illusion and evocation tonight,” Arlon says, though the way he emphasizes start makes my stomach clench. It’s a shock to realize that of all the things we’ve done this week, these will be the first spells he’s gotten out of me. Going off how my nerves are already singing, they’ll be strong ones, too.

The cuffs tug, and I blindly follow, my heart racing. The short chain linking them jingles as my arms are pulled over me and hooked onto something. I’m put on my toes and can’t stop a quiet whimper of anticipation. He’s certainly not fucking around tonight. The Grandmaster is gone, and instead, the full force of Arlon the caster is focused on me.

He makes quick work of the ropes around my chest, tying a standard abjuration bind so whatever evocation he’s casting can be released safely. The ropes bite against my skin every time I draw a breath in, but then Arlon moves to my left leg.

He grabs my ankle and folds my leg before resting it against his thigh. He weaves ropes around my thigh and shin, tying them so my leg stays bent. He leaves a length of rope free that he uses to cinch me up, stretching my hip as my leg is forced out and up. I hang, half suspended, my right foot planted on the ground. I wobble, but the ropes and cuffs keep me from falling over, though it leaves my ass and thighs dangerously exposed.

Then a hand is on my hip even as another tugs at the base of the bulb inside of me. I whimper as it starts to buzz, sending a thrill of pleasure through me. I can’t so much as wiggle away as he toys with it, twisting and tugging until it almost slips out before letting it settle back in. He moves to my caged cock, fingers playing with my balls before he cups my trapped length.

“I bet you’d like this off, wouldn’t you?” he rumbles, and I hear that familiar purr in his voice. I purse my lips and nod, even as my cock throbs. “That’s too bad. Rewards are only given to those who earn them. If you hadn’t forgotten my lunch, I might have considered it. I was feeling so merciful earlier.”

I whimper, even though I know it’s not true. He made it clear he was going to keep it on the whole week, and I don’t doubt that he will. But my cock doesn’t know any better, and it aches in protest, trying and failing to swell inside of the cage.

Arlon tsks and lets go of me. I hear his footsteps across the stone floor before he comes back. “And since I’m not going to risk ruining the conjuration you’re building, I’ll just have to loosen your throat up.”

Something pushes past my teeth, blunt and a few inches long. A phallus that slides into my mouth, deep enough to tickle at my throat. Straps fasten around my head to hold it there, and I groan around the gag. My mouth floods with spit to try and wash it away. It forces me to swallow around the phallus as I draw in a few deep breaths through my nose.

“Show me how you stop with a gag,” he says, and I shiver as I lift both of my thumbs for him. “Good.”

His rough fingers cup my chin and force my head up, tilting it one direction and then the other. I can’t see him, but I can feel the intensity of his gaze as he examines me.

“Four days is all it’s taken,” he says. “Four days to turn you into a perfectly obedient fuckboy of a conduit. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

I lean into his hand, nuzzling his fingers as I nod. He chuckles as six focuses slide down my fingers, three to each hand. He lets go of me, and my chin drops as far as the collar will allow. I’m left gagged and blind and half-hanging and trembling as I try to pick out his footsteps over my own thudding heart.

The buzzing of the bulb intensifies, and I moan around the gag, realizing the longer I’m forced to swallow around it, the less my throat protests it being there. My world narrows down to the bite of the cuffs, the rub of the ropes, and Arlon’s voice. I’m already floating half out of my body, and he hasn’t even hurt me yet.

“From the spells that Olbric has turned in, it appears that you’re rather fond of a flogger,” Arlon says from somewhere behind me. “Let’s see how you like this one.”

He drapes the flogger down my back, letting me feel the thin leather tresses. My skin prickles at the gentle touch before he pulls it away. I wait with bated breath before it finally cracks against my back.

The tails are thinner and far more numerous than what Olbric’s used on me in the past. Arlon starts lightly, warming me up before he ups the intensity, and the thin tresses sting like hell as they snap sharply against my back. I grunt as my skin fizzles with pain, but I’m not given time to recover.

He sets an agonizingly steady pace. Crack against my thighs. Crack against my ass. Crack against my back. He is relentless, though the strength behind each lash never varies. He’s perfectly controlled, perfectly accurate with every strike, giving enough to hurt me but not injure me. Welts rise on my back and ass as he starts to speed up, even as the buzzing of the plug starts to intensify.

Then, Arlon changes directions, and I yelp as the flogger lashes up between my legs. It licks across my inner thighs and ass, and for once I’m glad the cage is there to keep the stinging tresses from hitting my cock. I wail miserably, but he doesn’t relent. Lines of fire start to rise across the tender flesh there as he cracks the flogger onto my thighs over and over.

I don’t know how long I endure. When he gets tired of hitting me from behind, he moves on to my chest until my sweat stings the welts he creates. After a time, my cries of pain start to fade to whimpers. Only then does Arlon stop.

I’m shaking, braced and tense for the next strike, but it never comes. Arlon pulls the focuses off of my fingers even as the bulb inside of me stops buzzing, giving me a moment of reprieve. I hang limp, feeling the cuffs dig into my wrists.

“I’m impressed, Dominai,” Arlon says, though his voice sounds like it’s reaching me through water. Warped and a little garbled. “Even without orgasm, you managed to charge all six of them.”

The ropes around my leg loosen before Arlon sets it down, but it feels like I’ve forgotten how to use it. My thighs brush together, and I whimper anew at the sting of the hot welts he’s left behind. The ropes around my chest go next, and I draw in a deep breath, trying to ground myself for whatever he has planned next.

The blindfold is unclasped and lifted, though I feel where my tears have built up behind it. I blink and squint at Arlon, but my eyes refuse to focus on him. He cups my cheek and brushes his thumb under my eyes, clearing away what’s left of my tears.

“Are you alright, Dominai?” Without thinking, I nod, and his white smile is the one thing I can focus on. “Good. Because we’ll move on to enchantment next.”

I whimper, but whatever is holding my cuffs up releases. Arlon steadies me, though the cuffs stay on and locked together in front of me. He grabs me roughly by the collar and leads me over to a padded rug before he shoves me to my knees. Arlon takes my shackled hands and puts six more focuses around my fingers before he pushes me onto all fours without warning. I yelp as he abruptly tugs the base of the plug and pulls it out of me. I raise my ass up in offering, a low moan escaping around the gag.

“Do you think I’m taking this out so I can fuck your hole?” he asks. His hand fists in my hair, forcing my cheek to the ground. “Careless fuckboys don’t get a real cock until they earn it.”

Something cold and wet drops onto my hole, and I yelp in surprise as the blunt tip of a phallus stretches me. I cry out around the gag as Arlon starts to fuck me with it, plunging deep. Even with the plug stretching me today, I’m still a little sore from last night, making each thrust jolt through me.

“Only six months in and you can take a cock like a trained whore,” he hisses as he tugs at my balls. “By the time you’ve properly apologized, your fuck hole will be too loose to satisfy me.”

That rings a genuine wail out of me. All I want is to satisfy him. To make up for whatever it is that I’ve done wrong. I can’t even remember now. My world has narrowed down to Arlon’s punishment and the fact that I deserve it. Whatever he does to my body it isn’t my concern anymore, because I’ve earned this. It’s his choice to use me whatever way he wants.

The phallus slides out of me, and I shudder in relief as his hand releases the back of my head. His finger hooks through my collar again, and he drags me off of the rug and onto the cold stone. Under my knees is the cold metal of a drainage grate set into the floor. The gag is unbuckled from my face, and Arlon pulls it off, taking the phallus out with it. I cough weakly and look up just in time to see Arlon release his cock.

But he doesn’t thrust it into my mouth. Instead, I hear him groan as something hot hits my chest. I gasp and flinch away, a hard shudder rushing through me as I realize what he’s doing.

He’s pissing on me. And I deserve it.

I hear him sigh as he shakes his cock off on me before tucking it away again. I can’t stop shaking, even as he reaches for a bucket by the wall. I barely have time to register what’s happening before a torrent of cold water is dumped over me. I don’t even have the strength to scream as the water jolts me unpleasantly back into myself.

When the torrent finally passes, I look up at Arlon, my hair wet and dripping. His white-toothed grin comes into focus before it abruptly disappears. His eyes go wide as they meet mine.

“Stop,” he breathes. “Stop.”

I blink and suddenly he’s in front of me, loosening the cuffs and cupping my face. I’m shivering so hard I feel like I’ll fall apart, but his hands are warm and comforting. His mouth moves, but the words don’t quite make it into my ears. One hand disappears and a towel is draped around me before he’s giving me a gentle shake.

“Dom, say something.”

I blink again as Arlon’s face swims into focus. The caster is gone, and instead, there’s a very worried Grandmaster in his place. I frown in confusion, but when I find my voice, it comes out rough. “Why’d you stop?”

Arlon looks at me in open shock. He pulls me into a tight embrace as he kisses my wet hair. A towel wraps firmly around me before he picks me up.

I slump against him, and I think I must doze, because the next thing I know, we’re in his rooms, and a hot bath has been drawn in his private washroom. He’s still fully clothed as he carries me into the water. I hiss as it stings my welts, but the fizzle of discomfort helps clear my head some. I sink in, letting the water rise up to my collar as Arlon settles behind me. His hands are gentle as he strokes over my shoulders and chest, waiting patiently for my senses to return. I tilt my head back against his chest and look up to see him watching me worriedly.

“Why did you stop?” I ask again.

Arlon strokes my cheek as he looks down at me. I don’t see the caster or the Grandmaster anymore. He’s just Arlon now, exposed and vulnerable. He lets out a shuddering sigh.

“I am not the type of caster who enjoys breaking people,” he says. “I like to explore tolerance, see what my conduit can take, but Dom, I looked at you, and you looked… shattered. I’ve never felt so cruel.”

Words are still slow to come, and I don’t know what to say to that anyway. Instead, I let my head fall back against his chest. Arlon lets out a long breath.

“I am so sorry,” he says, his voice layered with guilt. “I know your history with enchantment. I never should have used it as a punishment. Coupled with the day I put you through earlier, I pushed you way too far. I… let the frustrations of today fuel me, and I mishandled you.” He sighs and rubs his eyes, that familiar weariness creeping onto his face again. “We can end your collaring tonight.”

That sends a jolt of fear through me, banishing the last of the haze of conspace. “What? No!” I turn around and straddle his waist, my hands tangling in the wet collar of his shirt. “Please, please don’t send me away yet.”

I can’t imagine ending it now. Don’t think I could stand it. Arlon looks at me in surprise before he cups my cheek. I lean into his touch, feeling the drop catch up to me as tears well to my eyes.

He guides my lips to his, kissing me gently, almost tenderly. “I’m not going to send you away.”

His arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest as my tears spill over. Arlon just holds me, whispering gentle reassurances into my ear until my shaking subsides. When it does, I’m exhausted. The torrent of emotion passes, leaving nothing but confusion behind.

“I don’t want to end this early,” I say as I look up at him. “Do you?”

The look on his face is so full of longing that I know the answer before he says it. “No. But Dom, you have to understand… you are both the best and worst kind of conduit for me to have collared. Tonight proves that when you’re in the right headspace, you will allow me to do anything to you. And if I’m not careful, I will take advantage of that.” He sighs, his fingers stroking through my hair. “I certainly did tonight. I pushed you too deep.”

I lean into his touch, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Did I do something wrong?” My grip on everything that happened is still blurry. Stopping never even occurred to me, but if it had, would I have done it? I still don’t know.

“No - no, of course not,” Arlon presses a kiss to my forehead. He takes my hand and pulls the forgotten focuses off of my fingers with an amazed laugh. “I’ll be damned, you manage to charge these, too. I don’t think you understand what a feat it is to charge twelve focuses in a session without ever reaching climax.”

I flush even as I take one of the focuses and roll it between my fingers. I can feel that it’s enchantment and a strong one at that. Arlon sighs as he strokes my damp hair back. “You really are an incredible kind of wizard, Dom. You experience everything so acutely. You trust implicitly, and your desire to please is deeper ingrained than your own self-preservation. I’ve learned this about you this week, and yet in the heat of it, I felt like I was casting with Garrett, and not a wizard still in his first year. You… are truly beautiful in your submission, but the moment I got a good look at your face, I knew I’d gone too far with you.”

It’s a bit of a jolt to realize that he’s right. It’s only as I start to come up that I feel how deep in it I was. I truly would have let him do anything. A shiver of unease rushes through me.

“I kept thinking that I deserved it,” I say after a moment. “I… think I forgot I could stop.”

Arlon tightens his embrace on me. It’s only when a shiver runs through him that I realize how shaken he is by this. “It sounds like I untethered you from reality. That’s a dangerous place for a conduit to be. I could have seriously hurt you if I hadn’t realized it.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” I promise. “At least, not in any way I wasn’t okay with.” I lean back so I can get a good look at his face. I read the guilt and worry there, and all I want to do is see it gone. Maybe it’s part of that desire to please, but I don’t like seeing him look so upset.

I feel bold as I lean forward and catch his lips in a kiss, feeling the scruff of his beard. Arlon sighs as he returns it. When I finally pull back, I know I’m red to the tips of my ears. “Thank you for looking out for me when I didn’t have the sense to.”

Arlon looks at me, something like amusement breaking through the guilt and worry. “Are you sure you want to finish this week?” he asks. “I would never blame you for wanting to stop.”

I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished talking. “I don’t want to stop.”

He sighs, and it sounds a little like relief.

“Arlon, I trust you. I can’t imagine stopping this now. Even once this week is over… it’s going to be difficult.” My grin is lopsided as I say, “You’re my kind of caster.”

He looks at me in surprise before he starts to laugh. It starts soft but grows to a full belly laugh that makes the water around us ripple. He pulls me into a tight embrace and tugs the collar down before he plants his lips on my neck and sucks. I yelp, feeling a bruise pop up instantly.

“And you are my kind of conduit, Dominai,” he says. “We will finish this week, and we will talk about what comes next after it is over. I promise that I will take care of you.”

I smile and let my tired eyes close. “I know you will.”

8

DELIVERY BOY

Straetham is second only to the Lenear Isles in their open views of sex and sexuality. While the Strae villages in the mountains and other rural areas tend to be more conservative than the capitol city, none can compare to the strict sexual conservatism of the oligarchy of the Cairish Shykhdar.

A Magical History of the Greater Continent by Aurelia Laskarsis

The next morning, I wake up in Arlon’s bed, so hot I can hardly stand it. I kick my leg out from under the blanket, but Arlon’s heavy arm tightens around my waist, pulling me snugly against his chest. It’s like sleeping with a godsdamn furnace, but there’s no escaping now. Behind me, his breathing is still low and steady, and it makes me shiver as it brushes my neck.

I manage to wiggle enough to get part way out from under the covers, and the cool air of his room is a relief. The sun is just starting to turn the sky outside of Arlon’s window gold, and it’s enough to see the map of welts left on my skin. The salve he used last night certainly helped, but some of the lines are still raised and red. Feeling how sore I am today makes me all the more grateful Arlon stopped when he did.

I realize I’m not going anywhere, so I doze until he starts to stir. He yawns before pressing a kiss against the top of my head. “How are you feeling?” he asks quietly.

“Comfortable,” I mutter. “Sore, but nothing too bad.”

“Good,” Arlon says. “And how’s your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet,” I say with a smirk and am rewarded with Arlon’s snort. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. The drop last night was… rough, but I’m alright.”

“You’re sure?” he asks as he tightens his grip.

I roll so I can look at him. I want him to see how sure I am. “Positive,” I promise. After a full night’s rest, I’m even more certain I want to finish out the rest of the week. Being collared has been informative in more ways than just casting and conduiting.

As strange as it is to admit, last night was good for me. So much of my nerves around casting revolve around screwing up - of hurting my conduit. But last night, Arlon showed me that even if I’m casting, I have permission to stop, too.

Arlon grins and brushes my hair away from my face. “Today and tomorrow are the last days you’ll have the cage. I’ve made sure to take the day after tomorrow off so I can give you my undivided attention.”

I shiver at the implication. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon allows me clothes, and we grab breakfast before we head to his office. The stack of letters I brought are still on his desk, but he picks out the letter from Cairish and holds it out to me.

“I think Olbric will want to see this,” he says. “Will you take it to him?”

My heart does a little somersault in my chest. “Yes, sir.”

I go to take the letter, but Arlon pulls it back before I can. “You’re allowed to speak, but no casting. You still belong to me, for now,” he says before he offers the letter to me once more. “But be sure to tell Olbric that he’s allowed to keep you warm for me. Be back before lunch.”

I shiver as I take the letter, realizing this must be Arlon’s way of making last night up to me. “Yes, sir.”

I try not to hurry out of his office, but this is the longest I’ve gone without talking to Olbric since he was nabbed by Diran. I make my way up to the evocation tower, hoping I can catch him. He’s not usually an early riser, so there’s a chance he might still be getting up.

I’m just in time though - he’s about to close his door but stops when he sees me.

“You’re free!” he crows, and I smile as I throw my arms around him. He catches me and gives me a spin even as his kiss steals my breath away.

“Not quite,” I say and pull my robe down enough so he can see the collar.

“Oh, look at that. He’s given you a little color,” Olbric teases and brushes a finger over the bruise Arlon left on my neck last night. “Can only imagine what the rest of you looks like.”

I swat his hand away with a grin. “A few welts, but nothing too bad. It’s been a busy week.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I met the King yesterday,” I say.

“Fucking hell!”

“And I have this for you,” I say and hold out the opened letter for him.

Olbric groans the second he sees it. “Goddammit, of course you do,” he says, snatching it from me with a sigh. His eyes skim the letter, and he makes a sound of disgust. “Blah blah blah, ‘corruption of my son’s eternal soul, God weeps at the magic you weave, the punishment for kidnapping is death.’ He’s gotten so dramatic.”

“Sounds pretty serious,” I say.

“He sure likes to think so,” Olbric mutters. He opens his door again, and I follow him into his room. He tosses the letter onto his desk as I take a seat on the edge of his bed.

“You want to talk about it?” I ask. I’ve noticed that Olbric doesn’t talk about home often, and it seems like there’s a pretty good reason for it.

“What’s there to talk about?” Olbric flops onto his bed next to me. “My father has created a narrative that I’ve been kidnapped and am being used for magic by the Crux instead of admitting to himself that I came here of my own volition.”

“I mean… it sounds like there’s a lot to talk about there.”

Olbric snorts a laugh. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going home, and he certainly wouldn’t dare come and try to fetch me.”

“Why not?”

“With the threats he’s made against the Crux, Straetham would have to intervene,” Olbric says. “He’d never get across the moat. For all intents and purposes, I’m a ward of the Kingdom.”

I turn to look at him, propping my head up on my hand. “Sounds like he’s got a pretty big issue with magic.”

Olbric sighs. “That’s the thing - so long as no one he knows is casting, he loves it. The hypocrisy is astounding.”

“Ah. So he just has a problem with how it’s made.”

“Exactly,” Olbric mutters. “And it’s not only him. Most of my countrymen are like this. We follow a very different religion than you all have on this part of the continent and sex is… complicated.”

“How so?”

“So, it’s forbidden unless you’re married and definitely forbidden if you happen to have the same parts,” Olbric says. “I think the greatest insult to my father is the thought of me being fucked by a man. Joke’s on him though - even outside of casting, it’s my preference.”

I lean over to kiss him to try and wipe the scowl off of his face. “I’m sorry. My da had… similar hang-ups. He spanked my ass red when I was caught in some innocent fondling with the herdsman’s boy, though I’m not sure what pissed him off more - the fact that it was with another boy, or that I was daring to touch someone in public. In Airedale, you keep anything intimate quiet, quick, and behind closed doors.”

“That sounds incredibly boring.”

“And now you know what losing my virginity was like,” I snort. “I honestly think my hometown would have their hairs collectively curled if they knew what I was up to here. Fortunately, none of them have any clue how magic is made outside of rumor.”

Olbric sighs and rolls onto his side to look at me. “Wish my father didn’t know,” he mutters. “Would make things a lot easier.”

“I’m guessing magic doesn’t come from his side of the family?”

“God, no. My ama carries it,” he says. “She was never allowed to study it, but she encouraged me to leave for Straetham. I sure as hell wasn’t going to study it in Cairish.”

“What’s studying magic like there?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to know.

Olbric sighs. “Because it’s so taboo, there’s no institute like the Crux. There’s no real source of magiline save for what you can get on the black markets. Prostitution among magical folks is common,” he mutters. “On top of that, if you are outed as practicing magic, you guarantee that any title you held is forfeit, you become a disgrace to your family, etcetera, etcetera. I think that’s why my father chooses to believe I was coerced.”

I scoot closer to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. Me and my da had our problems, but I can’t imagine being estranged like this.

Olbric turns and kisses my palm. “It is what it is. I’ve been at the Crux for four years, and I don’t have plans to leave any time soon. Let my father rant and rave and send angry letters until he drops.”

He speaks blithely, but there’s real hurt behind his eyes. I lean forward to catch his lips and am glad when he relaxes. My fingers tangle in his long hair as I deepen it, holding him a little closer. He’s breathless when I pull away, and when he smiles at me, the hurt has retreated.

“I know it doesn’t mean much,” I say, “but I’m real glad you’re here.”

Olbric brushes my hair from my face before cupping my cheek. “Coming from you, that means everything.” Then he lets out a groan and flops onto his back again. “But damn do I wish you weren’t still collared. I’ve missed you.”

I give a small laugh. “About that. Arlon said no casting, but he, ah, gave permission for you to keep me warm for him. His words.”

Olbric turns to look at me slow, one dark eyebrow raising. “Oh, has he now?” A smirk spreads over his face. “How very generous of him.”

Olbric’s hand slides up under my shirt, and I yelp and flinch away. “Why the fuck are your hands ice!”

“Because it’s cold outside, you dolt,” he laughs before he puts both of them up under my shirt. I move to roll off the bed, but he grabs me. I try my best to flail out of his grip with a squawk of protest. Ever since Galiva fixed my arm, we’re close to matched in strength, but he’s got the advantage of leverage as he wrestles my arms over my head. I pant as I grin up at him. At least with both of his hands holding me down, he can’t put his ice blocks on me.

“You do look rather dashing in a collar,” Olbric says as he straddles my waist. “Maybe someday you’ll let me put one on you.”

I tilt my head up so he can get a good look at it. “I don’t know. Arlon may have ruined me. I’m not sure I can be collared by anyone else,” I tease.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Olbric growls.

I bite back a groan at the heat in his voice. My hips roll to grind against him even as my cock throbs in the tight confines of the cage. “Of what - who can debauch me the most? I promise you, Arlon’s winning.”

It’s enough to goad him on, and he leans down, catching my lips in a bruising kiss. His hips grind against me before he shifts, moving his legs between mine and spreading mine open with his knees. Even fully clothed, it sends a jolt of anticipation to my groin.

“Just wait until I get my chance,” he purrs. “God, how I’d love to walk you around on a leash in front of the Crux. But I wouldn’t keep you in a cage - I’m not that cruel. I’d let everyone in the towers see how hot you get when you’re stripped naked in front of them.”

I shudder, heat flooding me, but Olbric is nowhere near done. He nips down my neck, focusing on the skin around the collar. “Because nothing gets you heated more than being used, isn’t that right, Dom? I could mount you in a pillory in the yard, a ring in your mouth so anyone could fuck it, let your cock hang down for anyone to play with. Everything that Arlon’s denied you this week, I’d let you have. You’ll cum until you’re dry, but your hole? That would only be for me.”

“Fucking hell, Olbric,” I gasp. “Remind me - why aren’t you trying for enchantment?”

“After I check off transmutation, who’s to say I’m not?” he purrs. “But do you want to know why I chose transmutation first?”

I shudder and arch under him, my face flushed. “Why’s that?”

Olbric’s smirk is downright obscene. He leans in and nips at my earlobe before he whispers, “Because with transmutation, I can use you like the fucktoy you’ve always wanted to be. I can use you for decoration, use you as furniture, use you whatever way I like.”

I barely bite back a moan. “You’re filthy.”

“And you love it, don’t you?” he says before he bites my shoulder sharply.

I shudder, and suddenly the next few days can’t pass fast enough. “Yes, sir,” I gasp before realizing what I’ve said. I blink and look up at Olbric, seeing him grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, now that’s something I could get used to,” he says, and I flush hot red. “He’s put you in it deep this week, hasn’t he?”

My face somehow gets even hotter as I nod. “I’ve been a key turn away from cumming for the past five days. It doesn’t take much to get me there,” I admit.

For a second, I could swear something like a scowl crossed his face, but it’s gone so fast I must have imagined it. Olbric adjusts his grip, grabbing both of my wrists with one of his hands. He reaches down to toy with the cage through my trousers.

“Interesting that the cage makes you even more submissive. I haven’t considered conjuration because I can’t go more than a couple of days in a cage before I get downright testy.”

“You would, you addict,” I tease and am rewarded with Olbric tickling me until I shriek. “No! I take it back! Have mercy!”

Olbric chuckles and catches my lips again before he finally releases my hands. That doesn’t mean he’s finished with me, though. He half strips me before mapping out my welts with his tongue. A finger through the ring of my collar keeps me compliant, though I’m not too eager to get away. He leaves me panting, my cock leaking even though he’s not so much as grazed my ass.

Eventually, I find myself kneeling on the floor in front of him as he sits on the edge of his bed. His hair’s come loose and he blows a strand out of his face as he grins down at me. He seems to consider something before he releases his cock from the slit in his trousers and hooks a finger through my collar.

“Arlon said I should keep you warm,” he says. “So let’s see how well he’s trained your mouth this week.”

Olbric pulls me forward, and I wrap my lips around his cock. I’m surprised how easy I can take him. He’s sizable, but he’s got nothing on Arlon. I draw him in deep, tongue working down his length as I suck and bob obediently. Arlon’s gotten me used to not using my hands, so I inch myself down until Olbric’s fully seated. My throat quivers around him, just shy of gagging, but I stave it off.

Olbric’s grip on my hair tightens, and I hear his pleasured groan. “Goddamn, Dom,” he mutters. “You’ve always been good, but fuck.”

I reply by retreating to his tip only to open my throat as I swallow him again. Olbric moans and leans back, letting me set the pace. I take my time teasing him, rolling my tongue around the tip before swallowing him fully. My throat does the rest. Olbric grips my hair, his cock swelling as he cums. I shudder and swallow what he gives me, realizing I like the taste of him better than I like Arlon. I decide to keep that fact to myself as I suck him clean.

Olbric runs a hand through his loose hair as he looks down at me. “Fucking hell, what day are you getting the collar off?”

I glide up between his legs to kiss him hard, letting him get a taste of himself. Olbric gasps as he returns the kiss with a shudder. When I pull away, he’s got a bit of haze behind his eyes, and I feel a thrill of satisfaction. I thought that might get him. It sure as hell got me when Arlon did it.

“You’re definitely learning,” Olbric says with a small laugh and wipes the flush from his own face.

“We’ll see,” I say. “I’ve definitely learned a lot about conduiting. We’ll see how well it translates to casting.”

Olbric grins and flops back on his bed. “I literally can’t wait to find out.”

9

PEOPLE PLEASER

Many of the methods wizards use to create magic would be considered torture without the presence of consent. Yet mistakes can happen, and a wizard must feel comfortable stopping if they are pushed beyond their tolerance.

Magic Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

The next morning is a dull one. I stifle a yawn, discreetly shifting from one foot to the other as Arlon talks to yet another visitor. With so many outsiders filtering in and out, I’m stationed like an aide at his right hand instead of under his desk.

Truth be told, I’d rather be under the desk. At least down there, I can take a nap when I get bored. Today has been nothing but meeting after tedious meeting and going off of how his fingers drum against his desk, Arlon is as over it as I am.

“I am not at liberty to give away the Crux’s resources,” Arlon says, his voice losing its polite tone. “As I’ve told Lord Carrus personally, numerous times.”

The poor sap sitting on the other side of the desk is no more than an aide, and he squirms under Arlon’s gaze. “Please, Grandmaster. This isn’t a grand request - just a dusting of magiline powder is all that Lord Carrus asks. He’s heard rumor that it might clear the cough that’s plagued him.”

Arlon leans forward on his desk as he gives the man a stern look. “If Lord Carrus has a concern about his health, he is welcome to visit the clinic in town, the same as everyone else.”

The man deflates when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere. After nearly fifteen minutes of going round and round on the topic, I’m relieved that he’s finally taken no for a godsdamned answer. He resignedly gets to his feet, offering Arlon a small bow.

“Of course, Grandmaster,” he says. “I will inform Lord Carrus.”

Arlon’s smile is thin as the ice on a lake in summertime. “I assure you, he already knows.”

The man’s pale face flushes before he bows again and leaves the office, closing the door behind him. As soon as he’s gone, Arlon sinks back into his chair with a sigh. Without an outsider present, I drop common decorum and sink to my knees beside his chair.

“Lord Carrus is baron of the neighboring town of Belton,” Arlon says without me having to ask. “And ever since his health has taken a turn, he’s become one of the more persistent nobles trying to get magiline out of me. He’s so afraid of being seen as a commoner that he’s refused to visit the clinic. Time will tell if that stubbornness kills him or not.”

I wince at that, wondering what sort of person cares about their image more than their own godsdamned life. Arlon’s fingers slide through my hair, and I close my eyes as I lean into his touch. But his next words catch me off guard, “Speaking of stubbornness. Now that we’re through with meetings, I want to work on yours today.”

I look up at him with a frown. Stubborn?

Arlon raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Now, why do you think I say that, Dom?”

I know he’s expecting an answer, but I’m not sure how to reply. Finally, I say, “I-I don’t think I’m stubborn, sir.”

Arlon hums before he grabs a book from the corner of his desk. When he opens it, I realize that it’s the casting log I’ve seen him mark in a couple of times this week. He flips through it until he stops on a certain page and holds it out to show me. There are lines of his neat script, but then I notice the name printed at the top of the page: Dominai of Airedale.

“This is how I keep track of how much magiline a wizard is carrying,” he says. “Once you fill a focus with a spell, it belongs to you until that focus wears out. But I also use this to get an idea of people’s casting habits in case we ever need a particular type of spell created. Spell notes are turned in even when the spell is botched or when a stop is issued, and for most newcomers to the Crux, I see a number of stops in their first six months. Do you know how many I’ve seen with you?”

Suddenly I understand where this is going. Even that one time with Olbric and the canes, he’d been the one to stop when he noticed I wasn’t enjoying it. I clear my throat.

“None, sir.”

“That’s right,” Arlon says. “And do you know what that says to me?”

My grin is crooked. “That I’m a wizard who’s open to new experiences?”

Arlon chuckles, his fingers drumming against my head. “In part. But the other part tells me that you’re afraid to stop. I’ve been trying to find your threshold this whole week. When I loaned you out to Orabelle, I told her not to go easy on you because I wanted to see where your limits were. But then you didn’t stop. And again, when I administered your punishment, you still didn’t stop.”

My stomach sinks even further. I can’t quite meet his eye, but his finger hooks through one of the rings on my collar and makes me. “I need to know that there won’t be a repeat of what happened during your punishment, Dom. Not with me or anyone else.”

I swallow, feeling a knot tightening in my chest. Arlon must sense my anxiety because he cups my face with his hands, one thumb stroking my cheek.

“What keeps you from stopping?” he asks gently.

My thoughts swirl even as the knot tightens. “I-I don’t know, sir.”

Arlon hums, his gentle caress never stopping. “Then come on, sweet boy. We need to find out.”

Arlon leads me down the stairs to the dungeon. By the time we reach the bottom stair, I’m shaking with a mix of dread and anticipation. I have no idea what he has planned, but the knot in my chest has only gotten tighter.

“Clothes off, Dom,” he orders as he heads to the cabinet of casting supplies.

I swallow my nerves and do as asked, stripping down to nothing but my spells, collar, and cage. He grabs a pair of steel cuffs from the cabinet before he walks to the center of the large room, the dim lights casting him in shadow. He beckons me over with a finger before he fastens the cuffs around my wrists. They’re connected with a short, metal bar, and I don’t have time to wonder what the purpose is before Arlon grabs the bar to pull me close.

“I’m going to hurt you, Dominai,” he says, the gentleness in his voice at odds with the promise. “I’m undoubtedly going to hurt you in ways you don’t like. And when I do, you need to stop me. Do you understand?”

My breath catches in my throat as I look up at him with wide eyes. The shadows across his face betray nothing of what he’s thinking.

“Do you understand, Dom?” he asks again.

I swallow. “Y-yes, sir.”

Without warning, the back of his hand catches my cheek. It’s not a hard strike, but it’s so unexpected that I try to pull back on instinct. He doesn’t let me get far, one hand yanking me back by the cuffs around my wrists. He pulls my hands over my head before he reaches behind my ear.

It doesn’t feel like he does anything more than press his fingers to the base of my ear, but pain sings from the spot. I shout and try to jerk away, my fight instinct kicking in. Arlon’s shadowed face is a mask as he follows me. His hand is big enough that he can cup my jaw, pressing the same painful spot behind my other ear with his thumb.

I drop to my knees and out of his grip, trying to hide my head between my arms to stop him from doing it again. Arlon anticipates the move and he drops down with me, pushing me onto my back as he pins my arms over my head.

My legs kick against the ground as I try to struggle away from him, but he’s too strong. He straddles my waist, one hand keeping me pinned while the other curls into a loose fist. His knuckles rake down the center of my bare chest, and my eyes fly wide as the pain jolts through me.

Tears well in my eyes as I kick and struggle. A vague part of me knows that he’s not doing anything that will damage me, but fucking hell does it hurt, and not in a fun way. Above me, Arlon’s face looks pained as he moves his hand to my thigh, digging his thumb into a spot just below my groin.

“C’mon Dom, don’t disappoint me now,” he says, voice tight.

The quiet words seem to open a hole in me. A realization fills the pit as I shout, “STOP!”

Arlon immediately lets up. He gets off my hips and sits on the ground beside me before he pulls me against him, his arms wrapping protectively around me.

“Thank you, Dom,” he says, lips murmuring against my shoulder. “Thank you for stopping.”

The cuffs come off my wrists, and I can’t stop my eyes from spilling over as I bury my face against his neck. I cling to him, hiccuping over my words as I say, “I just don’t want to let you down.”

Arlon pushes my hair back, gently guiding my head up so he can cup my face with his hands. He presses a kiss to my forehead. “No, Dom, you made me so proud,” he says as his thumbs brush my tears away. “Is that why you have a hard time stopping? You don’t want to disappoint your caster?”

I don’t trust myself to attempt words, so I just nod. Arlon’s arms tighten around me, pulling me into his lap. I bury my face against his shoulders as he says, “Dom, you should never feel guilty for stopping. And if a caster ever tries to make you feel that way, they don’t deserve your submission. You did exactly as you should have. Thank you.”

It’s a relief to throw my arms around his neck as I cry against him. Even more of a relief to know that… it’s okay. Before coming here, I’d spent years trying to please everyone: the charges that I guided through the mountains, my village, my father. That people-pleasing habit is a hard one to kill, and even after nearly half a year at the Crux, I don’t think that the lesson was able to truly sink in until now.

I can say no.

The praise that Arlon murmurs in my ear fills me with warmth, slowly banishing the torrent of emotions. Fatigue hits me like a falling wall. I curl up more snugly in his lap as his fingers stroke comfortingly through my hair. I’m not sure how long we stay there, but Arlon seems to be in no hurry to move, and neither am I.

“Are you alright, Dom?” he asks at last.

I nod as I bury my face against his chest. “I’m alright, sir. Thank you.”

Arlon presses a kiss to my forehead before he reaches for something under his shirt. With me nestled against his chest, the little silver key hovers in front of my face when he pulls it free from his shirt.

“I needed to be sure I could trust you to stop. Because tomorrow, you get your cage off,” he says. “Do you feel ready?”

The pain he inflicted already feels like a distant memory. Inside of the cage, my cock throbs. “Yes, sir,” I say, breathless.

Arlon closes his hand around my key. “I told you that by the end of the week, you’d be able to take my full length, and tomorrow is your chance to prove it. So, as a final trial, once you can satisfy me with your mouth without gagging, I’ll take your cage off. Acceptable?”

“Yes, sir,” I say even as a nagging thought comes up to bite me. “What happens if I can’t do it?”

Arlon hums thoughtfully. His hand cups my chin and makes me meet his eye. “Do you think you’ll fail?”

I swallow, wanting to look away, but Arlon holds my gaze. “I-I don’t know.”

“That isn’t an answer, Dominai.”

I take a breath, realizing that this is a test. Everything we’ve done this week has been a test. And I haven’t failed one yet, have I? Arlon’s broken me down only to build me back up, and for once, I don’t quaver under his gaze when I say, “I can do it.”

Arlon smiles, his thumb stroking my chin. “Good. Then we’ll test that tomorrow morning.”

We eat dinner in Arlon’s rooms, and despite the nap I took, I’m still dog-tired by the time we’re finished. As much as I’m looking forward to tomorrow, I’m about ready for a break after all of this. No one warned me that being collared would tire me out mind, body, hole, and soul.

When Arlon motions for me to get into his bed, I’m relieved. Apparently he’s saving both of us for tomorrow. I watch him undress in the crackling light of the fire before he crawls under the covers with me. It’s easy to fall asleep with his heavy arm draped over my waist.

10

FREEDOM

When releasing someone from a long period of chastity, be prepared for a marathon casting session.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

*Please note this is an intense chapter that has elements of orgasm delay, large insertions, rope suspension, sensory deprivation, paddling, deep-throating, overstimulation, and brief mentions of death and grief.

Iwake to the feel of something soft covering my eyes. When I blink them open, I’m met with the darkness of a blindfold. I open my mouth to speak, but a bit gag settles between my teeth. I whimper, confused and a little disoriented.

“Hush,” Arlon says as his hand brushes my hair away from my face. I relax immediately, shivering at his touch. “Time to get up.”

Soft leather cuffs circle my wrists before they’re latched to the rings on my collar. I’ve barely even woken up and he’s already taken away my eyes, voice, and hands. But his own are warm as he helps me to my feet.

I stand, shivering in his chilly room before something clicks onto my collar. There’s a jangle of a chain, and I realize that Arlon’s finally put a leash on me. He gives a gentle tug, and I follow him blindly.

My feet step onto the cold floor of what must be his washroom. I hear the roar of water as a bath is drawn but then Arlon grabs my cock. “Piss now or never,” he says.

I whimper around the gag, humiliation making me burn hot. It takes me a second to muster myself to do it, and I bury my face against his shoulder as if I can hide from the embarrassment. It’s humiliating not being allowed to do such mundane necessities myself.

Arlon doesn’t seem to care. The water stops, but Arlon doesn’t guide me into the bath. Instead, he takes a washcloth and bathes me gently. I stand there trembling as he does, feeling like some kind of toy that he’s gotten dirty. He takes the gag out only to clean my teeth before he fastens it back on. Once he towels me off and brushes my hair, he picks up the leash to lead me through his room.

“Stairs,” he warns, and I step cautiously down them. I’ve walked this path so many times this week that I know we’re headed to his office. I hear the scrape of his door before he leads me inside and pushes me to my knees on his rug.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he promises.

I whimper, but I hear the door open and close again. I shiver and try to decide if I’m still asleep. But the longer I kneel, the more my knees ache, so I must be awake. Coming to blindfolded, bound, and half in conspace is proving to be a bigger mindfuck than I could have imagined. And I get the feeling that’s exactly what Arlon intended.

The door opens again, and I whimper, a jolt of fear rushing through me.

“It’s me,” Arlon says, and I jump when his hand touches my face. The gag is pulled from my mouth, and I lick my dry lips. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, sir.” My voice comes out rough, and I nuzzle gratefully into his hand. It’s neve-wracking to be left alone like this, even if it was brief. I realize what had drawn him away a second later when Arlon tilts something to my lips.

“Drink,” he orders gently. I do as told, tasting fresh water, flavored with mint. I drink until the glass is empty and hear Arlon set it on his desk. “Eat.” I flush but open my mouth and crunch into a slice of apple, drizzled with honey. Arlon is patient, and I hear him enjoying his own breakfast even as he feeds me mine.

Once he’s through, he helps me to my feet. He leads me across the room, and I can tell from the cool rush of air that we’ve reached the stair to the dungeon.

“Stairs again,” he says. “Step carefully.”

I follow him down, my anticipation building with each step. The last stair catches me by surprise, and I stumble. Arlon’s hands are gentle as he steadies me before he strokes down my sides. The innocent touch makes my skin break out in gooseflesh.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Because we’re both in for a long day,” he says. “Kneel.”

I shiver at the promise of that and do as I’m told, knees landing on a pillow. Arlon’s hand strokes through my hair before he asks, “Are you ready for your freedom?”

My cock throbs, my mouth going dry. “Yes, sir.”

The blunt head of his cock brushes my lips. “Then prove it.”

Drawing in a deep breath, I steady myself before I take him into my mouth. I start slow, easing down the first couple of inches until he responds. His length swells, and I bob down further, my throat quivering. I ease back and draw in another deep breath before I slide my lips down. I’m rewarded with Arlon’s moan and can almost feel his hand twitching to grab my head, but he resists. He lets me set the pace, and I’m grateful for it.

I manage to inch my way down his cock, my nose bumping his navel. It’s the first time I’ve done it without him holding me or my throat numbed, but not having my eyes helps. I only have feel to go off, and though he’s big, I’ve gotten used to him over the week. I stay there until my throat starts to protest before I pull back out to the tip with a sigh. Arlon shudders in appreciation, his hand coming to rest lightly on my head, though he doesn’t force me to anything.

When I ease down his full length again, my throat opens a little easier to let him. I bob up and down his length, and hearing Arlon’s groan of pleasure makes me shiver. I’m not sure how long I’m at it. It doesn’t matter. I could listen to the sounds I wring out of him forever. Each one sends a jolt of pleasure straight to my gut.

Then, Arlon’s grip on my hair tightens. He can’t seem to help himself as he thrusts into my willing mouth, a low moan escaping him. I don’t protest, my throat allowing him to reach deep.

“Dominai,” he groans, and I wish I had the blindfold off. I want to see what I’m doing to him, but I have to be satisfied hearing the pleasure layering his voice. My name is the only warning I get before he seats himself, holding me flush against his stomach as his cock empties down my throat. I clench my eyes shut under the blindfold, staving off a gag as I swallow.

I gasp as I pull my mouth off of him, panting for breath. Arlon’s hand is gentle as he cups my cheek, and I lean into the touch. “Are you alright?” Arlon asks.

I give a small laugh. “Yes, sir,” I say. “I did it.”

Arlon’s chuckle washes over me, his thumb brushing my lip. “That you did,” he says. “I never had any doubt.” He shifts, and then he’s kneeling in front of me, his hands cupping my face. “Would you like your cage off, Dominai?”

I shiver. “Please, sir.”

Arlon kisses my nose before I hear the quiet tinkle of my key. My heart thuds in my chest as he grabs my trapped cock. There’s a soft click before he eases the cage off, and I’m shocked at how sensitive I am underneath it. I groan in relief and rest my head against him, thrusting into his hand as he toys with me, my body shaking with need.

“It’s such a shame,” Arlon says in mock surprise. “Your cock is finally free, but your hands aren’t.”

I whimper as he lets go of me before the blindfold is loosened from over my eyes. I blink, my eyes adjusting easily in the dim light of the dungeon. I look up to see Arlon smiling down at me.

“I guess you better find something else to satisfy yourself with.”

Heat rushes to my face as I gape at him. He can’t seriously be suggesting… but no, of course he is. That smile is all sadistic glee. Arlon unlocks the leash from my collar as I get to my feet, red to the tips of my ears.

I look around the room before my eyes land on the big bed in the corner. I meet his eyes uncertainly, but he just watches me with a wicked grin. I flush and crawl onto the bed, using my elbows to grab one of the pillows. Well, this will be something I haven’t done since I was first discovering what my cock did. Behind me, Arlon chuckles with genuine mirth, and I bite back a snappy response. I still have a few fading marks from this week, and gods know I’ll earn more if I sass him.

It’s a challenge to ignore him as I grind into the pillow. My cock is so sensitive after a week without being touched that it’s enough to get me hard. Humiliation rolls through me as I thrust against it, the friction just enough to feel good, yet after six months of experiencing the best of what sex can be, this isn’t enough to do it. I groan in frustration, burying my face against the covers.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Arlon says. I flop against the bed with a groan, relieved that he’s not going to make me try and finish this way. I lift my head and glance over to see what he’s been up to while I was at my futile task. He catches my eye before saying, “I think this will help.”

A shiver rushes through me when I see what he’s referring to. He’s set up a phallus that’s set onto a stand built right into the ground. It’s a strange shape. Long and girthy, with a pronounced curve. One side is decorated with a row of bumpy ridges, and I shiver at the sight of them. I manage to wiggle off the bed and walk over to him as Arlon slathers the length of it with lotion. He motions to it with a grin.

“Take a seat.”

I bite my lip as I look at the thing. It’s a stretch - even by Arlon’s standards. Without the use of my hands, it’ll be a challenge. Arlon puts a couple of pillows down before I kneel, straddling it. I lower myself until the blunt head of the phallus pokes at me. I sink down further and shudder as the well-slicked tip pushes into me. Arlon seems to be in no hurry, so I take my time, letting myself adjust as I inch myself onto the monster of a phallus. I groan at the stretch as those bumps drag across that spot inside of me.

“How does it feel, Dominai?” Arlon asks.

Gooseflesh prickles over my skin. “Big, sir.”

“But nothing you can’t handle, is it?”

I shudder as I pull up only to sink down further. “No, sir.”

“Good,” Arlon purrs. “Keep going.”

I moan and do as told, lifting myself up only to sink down again, splitting myself open. As I do, Arlon steps forward and unlocks my cuffed hands from my collar. I pause my thrusts, groaning as I stretch my arms out.

“I didn’t give you permission to stop,” he says, a hint of warning in his voice. I shudder and start moving again, but Arlon says, “Now that you have your hands back, you have the leverage to go faster.”

I moan and brace my hands on the ground in front of me. I speed up, fucking myself proper on the slicked phallus. It sends chills of pleasure up my spine, and with the way the thing is shaped, it rubs against that spot inside of me relentlessly. The quicker I go, the better it feels, and a familiar pressure starts to build at the base of my cock.

“Pause.”

He catches me when the phallus is seated fully in me, but I stop all the same. I wail with need, my legs shaking. A hand tilts my chin, and I look up at Arlon through a haze of pleasure. His free hand slips five focuses down my cock. They spark sharply, wringing a surprise shout out of me. Arlon smiles as he leans close.

“This is where I ruin you, Dominai.”

I shudder at the heat in his voice, realizing what he means. This is when I orgasm both inside and out. I reach for my cock, but stop, my hand shaking.

“Please, sir,” I beg, every nerve alight with desire.

Arlon smiles as he trails his thumb over my lips. I suck his finger into my mouth, and his smile widens.

“Gods, you were an easy one to train,” he says. I let out a noise of displeasure as he pulls away. He goes to sit on a nearby chair, resting his ankle across his knee. “I want you to think of this week and how it made you feel. Let’s see what you conjure this time.”

I don’t waste a second as I grip my cock and start to ride the phallus as quick as my legs will let me. I fall onto it over and over as my hand strokes my already dripping cock. The focuses spark again, and my whole body jerks in response. All the while, Arlon watches me.

Fragmented thoughts flit through my head, memories of him fucking me, my throat, my ass, of him bringing me the deepest I’ve ever been, and him bringing me back out. I remember being humiliated, beaten, mad with desire, yet at the same time, satisfied, safe. Seen.

“Remove your hand, Dominai,” Arlon orders.

I slap my hand against the ground even as I continue to sink onto the phallus. Even without that stimulation, the pressure in my cock and the base of my balls starts to build again. I speed up before as I hear Arlon tsk.

“Pause,” he says, and I whimper as I sink deep onto the thick toy again. I’m trembling from head to toe, panting like I’ve just run a race. My nerves sing with need, but no louder than the command of his voice.

“Sir, please, please.”

Arlon waits a weighted second, and I glance up to see that sadistic grin spread across his face, his hands steepled in front of him as he watches me. He leans back comfortably in his chair.

“Continue.”

With a tormented groan, I start again. My cock feels hard as stone in my hand, the focuses added another layer of sensation with every stroke. I’m so sensitive that it doesn’t take me long to return to that same level. I pant and bite back my moan, trying to keep my pace steady so maybe he won’t notice as I edge closer to the point of no return.

“Pause,” Arlon orders again, and I wail miserably. Arlon laughs. “Don’t think you can trick me, Dominai. I’ve also been paying attention this week.”

Sweat drips off the tip of my nose, and I sink helplessly onto the phallus. He’s right. No one else can read me like he can. No one else can control me with a word. Force me to edge myself until there’s no room left in my head but the need to finish.

“Sir, please,” I whimper, my voice emerging tired and weak.

Arlon hums thoughtfully as if deciding if I’ve earned it or not. When he’s in this mood, he could keep me at it all day, but I don’t think I can stand it much longer. I’m shaking from head to toe, body tight as a bowstring as I wait for his decision.

He takes forever to make up his mind. Then, finally, “Continue.”

I don’t recognize the bestial sound of relief that escapes me as I start again. I tug my cock as I split myself open on the phallus over and over. It takes even less time to get me back up to the precipice.

This time, Arlon lets me have it. “Cum, Dominai.”

It starts internally first, just as one of those bumps rubs over that spot inside of me in exactly the right way. But between the pleasure that races through me and what my hand’s doing over my slick length, my cock catches up quick.

I cum with a howl, doubling over with pleasure. I try to keep my hips moving, keep thrusting down, but I lock up and sink deep onto the phallus as the ecstasy threatens to undo me. Every muscle in my body tightens as my cock empties, first a stream and then a trickle. My balls run dry by the time it subsides, though fizzles of pleasure skitter through me, making me twitch with the aftershocks. I lay curled, my head resting against my arm, the phallus still deep in me. I don’t think I have the strength to lift off of it.

“Are you alright?”

I can’t even lift my head. When I find my voice, it comes out rough. “Good gods.”

Arlon chuckles, and then he’s helping me up. He lifts me off of the phallus, and I can’t stop an exhausted moan, my cock giving one last feeble dribble as those ridges rub across that spot inside of me again. I’m half-carried over to the bed, though at least this time I get to use the pillow for its intended purpose.

Arlon tugs a blanket up to cover me before he grabs my hand. Vaguely, I feel the focuses pulled off my fingers as my eyes slide closed. I must doze, because the next thing I know, I’m blinking awake. I’m still in the bed, but Arlon’s fingers are in my hair, his comfortable weight behind me. I let out a contented sigh, and my eyes drift closed again.

“You looked like you needed a break after that,” Arlon says gently.

“You’d be right, sir,” I say and groan as I roll onto my back. “Thank you.” Even now, echoes of pleasure race through me as I move, the soft blanket brushing my sore ass and cock.

“Don’t think I’m finished with you,” Arlon warns.

I shiver as I look up at him. “No, sir.”

He shifts to lay comfortably next to me, head propped up on one elbow. Through everything, he still has his clothes on. “You may speak freely. How are you feeling?”

I put a hand to my head and give a small laugh. “Exhausted,” I admit. “That was something else.”

Arlon strokes my hair away from my face. “I was half convinced that when I came between you and finishing, you’d lose that compliance,” he says. “But you didn’t. You obeyed every last order I gave.”

I flush, even as an unsettling thought crosses my mind. “So… what happens when I have the collar off?”

Arlon looks at me curiously. “What do you mean?”

I frown and roll on my side to face him, though I can’t quite meet his eyes. “When you were rallying folks to go after the rogue wizards, you weren’t going to take me. But I fought you on it. I… don’t know if I could do that anymore.” I give a lopsided grin. “You may have beaten the rebellion out of me.”

Arlon’s palm moves to cup my cheek. “Dom, I didn’t suggest collaring to break you,” he says. “I am the last person to want to quash the rebellion in anyone. You came on that trip because you were confident you could help. And you were right.”

When I try to look away, his hand pulls me back, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes are the color of fresh tilled earth, and they look at me fondly.

“When that collar comes off, when we drop this power dynamic, my only wish is to see that confidence grow,” he says even as his smile fades. “Being grandmaster of the Crux often means making decisions I’d rather not make, or choosing paths I’d rather not choose. Frankly, it’s downright terrifying sometimes. But having the insight of those I trust helps, and Dom, I trust you. I never would have collared you if I didn’t. You are talented and capable and far smarter than you think. Trust your judgment. And when it is at odds with mine, I trust that you will speak up.”

I swallow and lean into his hand. This is Arlon saying this, and he’s one of the few people who can speak louder than the doubts in my head.

“I will,” I promise. “Thank you.”

Arlon presses his forehead against mine. I sigh and lean against him, feeling the warmth of his breath mingle with my own. “I think it’s safe to say that this has been an emotional week for both of us.”

I can’t stop a small laugh. “I think that’s a pretty correct assessment. I’m going to miss your bed.”

“I don’t normally allow those I collar to sleep in it. But I’ve made you one of the few exceptions to that.” He drums his fingers against the back of my neck before he releases it and pulls away to look at me. “I’ll remove your collar tonight. But if you so choose to stay after that, my bed is open to you. We can talk on equal footing again.”

I flush with pleasure. “I’d like that.”

Arlon smiles. “Good. I haven’t collared anyone like you in some time, and I have a feeling that freeing you will be an adjustment for both of us. I’m going to miss having you under my desk.”

“Strange to say I’ll miss it too.” It takes me a second, but I meet his eyes. It takes a second longer to muster the question. “Can we… do this again sometime? It was… nice to give up control like this.” That’s not a big enough word to describe what this week was. “Fulfilling.”

Arlon beams at me. It’s such a rare sight, and it makes my chest swell to see it. “It was just as fulfilling to be given that control,” he says. “I would like that very much.” He thinks for a moment before saying, “What about a standing day every week? Would that be too often?”

My stomach does a funny little somersault. “No, that sounds perfect.”

“Mondays, then?”

It’s a slow day for casting usually, which makes it perfect. And with today being Friday, it means I’ll only have to go a couple of days without seeing him. It’ll be a nice way to ease back into freedom.

“I’ll be here,” I promise.

“Good,” Arlon says. He reaches up and toys with one of the rings on my collar. “Once this is off, I’ll give it to you. Unless we discuss a cancellation beforehand, on Mondays, you’ll be in my office by first bell with your collar on, and you’ll stay until you wake up the next morning.”

I shiver with anticipation. “Thank you.”

“I can’t promise I’ll always have the time to cast with you,” Arlon warns. “But I will always be grateful for your presence and will do my best to make it worth your time.”

I give a small laugh. “You won’t need to worry about that. This week has been interesting in more ways than just casting.”

“I’m glad,” Arlon says. “You’ve proven yourself a rather invaluable aide. I’d be glad for your help.”

My smile is wide, and I can’t seem to wipe it away. Instead, I lean in and press my lips to his. A quick, grateful kiss. Arlon catches me before I can pull away and holds me close before deepening it. I gasp, my head swimming as he steals my breath away. When he finally releases me, that look is back on his face as his finger loops through the ring on my collar.

“Are you ready to continue, Dominai?”

I swallow, my heartbeat spiking. I’m not sure how long we’ve rested, but I feel myself stirring already. After a week of deprivation, one spell isn’t enough to wear me out.

“Yes, sir.”

Arlon smiles. “Good.”

After Arlon feeds me a quick lunch, he takes me deep. Abjuration finds me suspended in ropes similar to what I did with Galiva. Then he adds illusion on top of it, covering my eyes with a blindfold and blocking my ears with wax before securing a ring gag into my mouth again. It’s almost like being in the silver, though the bite of the ropes hold in a very different way. Focuses slide down my fingers, though he leaves my thumbs unencumbered in case I need to stop.

I’m spun around and feel Arlon adjust the ropes so my legs are forced open wider. It wrings a surprised gasp from me, but he doesn’t give me time to recover before he’s entering me. The ropes allow him to fuck me deep as he pulls me onto his cock.

I shout with each thrust, relishing the abandon of submitting. My head hangs low, spit dripping from my forced-open mouth. Arlon grabs my hard length, and I arch with a wail. I’m so used to the immovable hold of the silver that I savor the chance to writhe and shout. I want him to hear my appreciation as I beg and moan around the gag.

Maybe it’s because I primed myself this morning, but as he fucks me, I feel another internal orgasm building. Arlon expertly strokes my cock, and I realize he’s trying to ruin me all over again. I almost dread having another. The first nearly undid me.

But Arlon doesn’t seem to care. After a week of keeping me locked up, he seems intent to give me everything that I’ve missed and more. His cock thrusts deep, and with the angle he’s tied me, it hits that sweet spot relentlessly. His hand is slick with lotion, and the way he strokes me almost makes me feel like I’m inside someone. I plead around my gag, begging him not to stop.

It feels so good it almost hurts, and I scream my gratitude when he allows me to cum. He doesn’t so much as pause his thrusts as his hand milks my cock for every last drop. Soon I’m screaming for a different reason as the prolonged pleasure becomes a torment of its own. I beg and plead around my gag, but Arlon doesn’t stop until he wrings one last drop out of my spent cock.

When he pulls out, I whimper and let my head drop. The focuses are lifted from my fingers, the blindfold is taken off my eyes, the plugs from my ears. The gag, however, he keeps in.

My head hangs low as I pant for breath, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Arlon cleaning his cock in the small wash basin. My head hangs, giving me a view of the puddles of spit and cum I’ve left on the floor, but he’s not through with me yet. He didn’t finish.

“Are you alright?”

Another whimper spills a fresh string of saliva from my mouth to the ground. I hadn’t even noticed Arlon had come back over. I manage a weak nod, but Arlon’s hand catches me under the chin and lifts my head. He tilts me this way and that, examining me closely before he nods in approval. He lets my head fall again before he says, “I think I’ll switch to evocation.”

My hands clench under the ropes, another tormented moan spilling from me. I’m sore and used, muscles aching from being tied, but I’m his to enjoy, and it’s not my place to deny him what he wants. Besides, I want it too.

“I’m going to wring two more spells out of you,” he says.

I’m almost disappointed that he’s winding down, but I’m in it so deep that I’ll trust Arlon’s judgment over my own. He goes to the wall and picks up something I can’t see before sliding a fresh set of focuses over my fingers. Impossibly, my cock stirs again, and Arlon smirks.

“A week of deprivation has done well for your stamina,” he says. He grabs my head before tying a rope through my hair. I don’t keep it too long, but it’s just long enough for him to get a good handful. It forces me to keep my head up, which he uses to his advantage.

He grabs the back of my head before he thrusts into my forced-open mouth. He puts all that training I did through the week to good use. The ropes give him leverage to fuck my throat until I gag, but even then he only pauses for a second to let me breathe.

Something snaps against my ass in a stinging slap, and I shout around his cock. Without the gag to force my teeth apart, I might have bitten him in my surprise. The thing snaps down on my ass again even as Arlon thrusts deep to muffle my shout.

Whatever it is he’s using hurts. It feels like a crop but bigger, more solid. He rains down the blows, one after another with what must be some sort of paddle. Tears sting my cheeks as he slides out, giving me a brief moment to catch my breath before he thrusts back in. I’m not sure how long I hang there having my throat fucked and my ass beat. Arlon doesn’t relent until my skin radiates heat that I’ll feel long after my collar is off.

When he finally pulls out of my mouth, I can’t stop a little sob of relief. I feel light-headed in the aftermath of it, my ass one big welt. I just want to let my head hang, but the ropes stop me from doing even that. He snatches the focuses off my fingers before sliding on six more.

Then Arlon comes behind me, his cool hands grabbing the reddened mounds of my ass. I cry out weakly before he reaches up and loosens the gag from my mouth. It falls to the ground, and I moan as I’m allowed to stretch my jaw.

“Sir, please,” I whimper, though I’m not sure what I’m begging for.

Arlon’s hand tightens on my bound hair and pulls my head back, making me shout. His weight settles between my spread legs, his erect cock poking at me, though he doesn’t push into me.

“What is it you want, Dominai?”

I shudder, and the heat in his voice sends a thrill through me. “I want to make you cum, sir.”

“And how would you do that?” he asks, the perfect control in his voice completely at odds with the quaver of desperation in mine.

“I-I don’t know, sir,” I gasp. “My mouth, my ass - whatever you want.”

“That’s exactly right,” Arlon says approvingly as his hand tightens in my hair. “Whatever I want. Because you’re my fuckboy, aren’t you?” I whimper and nod as best as I can, but that’s not a good enough answer. “Say it, Dom.”

I feel the tip of his slicked cock prod at me and arch with a gasp. “I’m your fuckboy, sir.”

“And what’s a fuckboy good for?” he hisses as the tip of him slips into my sore hole.

I jerk, nerves alight with a mixture of pain and pleasure. My head swims as I say, “Whatever you want, sir.”

“Damn straight.”

Arlon seats himself with one brutal thrust that makes me choke on my own breath. If there’s one thing I’ve learned this week, it’s that Arlon likes it rough. With his size, it can’t be something he’s able to do often, but he’s trained me to take him in every way, and I don’t disappoint now.

Arlon uses the ropes for leverage as he fucks me hard, pulling me onto him even as he thrusts to meet me. Every snap of his hips sends sparks of sensation across my reddened skin, pleasure edged with pain shooting through me as he drags over that spot inside of me. Impossibly, I feel another orgasm building. I don’t know what else I can give, but Arlon seems intent to take it.

His hand grabs my cock again, and I give a broken sob. My length swells again under his touch, and I’m almost mad at it. I don’t know if I can handle another. The last one felt like a miracle, but this one is starting to feel like torture.

Arlon had warned me though. This is the last spell. He strokes in time with every thrust before he slaps a hand against my red ass. I yelp even as it sends a flash of desire through me.

“Gods, the way you tense up,” he groans and slaps me again. The pleasure that thickens his voice feeds my own need, and I feel the pressure building again.

“I’m going to cum, sir,” I moan.

“Not yet, you aren’t,” Arlon growls, even as he speeds up his pace.

I wail, eyes clenched shut tight as I try to stave it off. But this may be an order I can’t obey. “Sir, please, please.”

“Not yet,” Arlon pants and squeezes the base of my cock. He groans, and I’m so sore and raw that his cock feels huge as it swells inside of me. His breath hisses out of his nose, and he gives me a few more brutal thrusts as his hand starts to stroke me again.

“Cum, Dominai.”

It’s like my body was waiting for permission. I scream as I orgasm again, though my cock only gives a dribble of clear liquid. Arlon thrusts once more before he seats himself deep, moaning as he fills me. My whole body shudders in the ropes, my orgasm wiping every last thought from my head. I don’t know how long it goes on, but by the time it subsides, I feel empty, my vision fuzzy at the edges. For a second, I just float there, not even feeling the ropes that dig into my skin.

It’s bliss.

I don’t really register Arlon lowering me down, don’t really hear the words of praise and comfort he murmurs to me even though they make my chest swell with pride all the same. The ropes are loosened, and I feel his warm hands gently rub at the marks they left on my skin. The glowing focuses are removed from my fingers before he scoops me up with a grunt. I drape my arms around his shoulders, burying my face against his neck.

Warm steam banishes the chill of the Crux, and I blink as the baths swim into focus. Someone asks a question, and Arlon replies, though I can’t be bothered to absorb what he’s saying. I’m glad he’s doing the talking so I don’t have to try and summon words yet. Instead, Arlon helps me into one of the pools, the hot water stinging the new set of welts he’s given me.

He slides in behind me a moment later and drapes an arm around me to keep me upright. I let out a long sigh, content to float safe and warm until my senses come back to me. My eyes are the first to start working right, and I blink up at Arlon. He’s reclined comfortably against the edge of the pool, his eyes closed, though one arm holds me to his chest. I smile before the rest of the baths come into focus and start a bit when I realize we’re not alone.

In the pool across from us are Olbric and Cancassi, and both of them are watching us. Cancassi looks a little amazed, but if I wasn’t still floating halfway out of my body, I’d say Olbric almost looks upset. I blink, but when I open my eyes again, both of them are gone, and I wonder if I imagined them.

Arlon stirs as I do and lets out a contented sigh. “Are you alright?” he murmurs.

I smile as I let my head fall back against his chest. “Great. Going to be sitting tender for weeks,” I say before adding a quick, “sir.”

Arlon kisses the side of my head before his fingers are at my collar. I expect him to tug the ring and pull me closer, but instead, he unbuckles it and slides it off, setting it on the edge of the pool. I rub my neck, and after so long with it on, it feels like I’m missing something.

Arlon smiles and says, “Congratulations, Dom. You’ve earned your freedom.”

He sinks further into the pool, his arm relaxing around me now that I’m coherent enough to hold myself up. I still stay pressed against him, enjoying the simple comfort of it. Of all the new things the Crux introduced me to, this is one of my favorites. Just being able to enjoy the closeness of another person without having to say a godsdamn thing. We stay like that for a few long minutes, savoring the quiet.

I look down at my body and see the bruises and marks he’s left on me. Folks in the towers tend to wear them like a badge of pride, and I’ve sure got a display of medals to show off after this week. My ass throbs in the hot water along with a few flogging welts that are particularly stubborn.

“Gods, I look like I lost a fight with a hailstorm,” I mutter.

Arlon smirks. “I’d apologize for the bruises, but I’m not sorry.”

“I’m not, either,” I say. I let out a long breath and sink up to my chin. “Thank you… for everything this week.”

Arlon lifts a finger and brushes my wet hair away from my face. “I stand by what I said. This is a confidence issue, Dom. And confidence is something I can try to instill, but I can’t teach it.”

“You may have beaten some of it into me,” I say around a laugh. “But at the very least, you’ve given me plenty of casting ideas.”

He smiles as his arms tighten around me. “Don’t get discouraged. You’ll find your confidence. I know you will.”

I trail my finger over the water, and it shimmers under my fingertip. “How did you find yours?”

Arlon is quiet for a moment. “I don’t think I was given much of a choice,” he says at last. “Though I’m not sure I’d call it confidence so much as… a reckless kind of ego.”

I lean comfortably against his chest as my fingers trace the calluses on his hands. The question has been nagging at me for months, and I finally gather the courage to ask it. “How did you end up here?”

Arlon chuckles and says, “My predecessor, Fawn Maitre, arrested me.”

I pull away to get a look at his face, trying to decide if he’s being serious. “You’re joking.”

“I am not,” Arlon says and runs a hand through his hair. “I told you, I’m the last person to try and beat the rebellion out of anyone.” Well, that throws out most of my theories. He must see my look because he continues, “I’ll tell you the story, but you’re observant - what do you think I did before I came to the Crux?”

“I’d thought you might have been a soldier,” I admit.

Arlon hums thoughtfully. “Not a bad guess,” he says. “I was a bandit.”

I gape at him. “Seriously?”

Arlon shrugs. “There’s not much space on a Tinari caravan for a bastard, so when my mother, Kalis, died, I was forced out. I was young, poor, and traveling alone through the Hobokins, which I don’t think I need to tell you was a stupid thing to do,” he mutters. “A bandit by the name of Vian Wolf and his crew caught up to me on the road. They beat me within an inch of my life, and when they realized I didn’t have any money, Vian took me with them.”

I wince. It’s gotten better in recent years, but after a lifetime of traveling on and around the roads in the Hobokins, I learned quick to stay away from the areas the bandit crews case out. I was right about him being Tinari and wrong about everything else.

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen,” he says through a sigh. “I was six feet tall already and strong, so Vian saw an opportunity to add to his crew. He was a cunning son of a bitch, and after a few escape attempts and a few more beatings, he figured out how I ticked. He offered me money, freedom, and respect - three things I’d never had, and I latched onto the opportunity like a fish on a hook.”

A shadow passes behind his eyes, and he says, “I was under that man’s thumb for ten years, and was too indoctrinated to even recognize how far from freedom I was. But then one of our raids went bad. We caught the attention of the Crux, and not long after, Fawn and a few other wizards came to deal with us.”

“Fucking hell, what happened?” I can’t keep the awe from my voice. It’s hard to reconcile the Grandmaster I know with the bandit he was, but as he talks, more of an accent starts to come out. It gets easier to believe with every word.

“What you’d expect to happen when a group of trained evokers go up against a bandit gang armed with nothing but stolen weapons and armor. Vian had put me in charge that day, and I still wonder if he knew what was coming. It would have been just like him,” Arlon says with no small amount of bitterness. “The fight was over in less than a minute. They did it without killing a single one of us, though it is how I got this scar.” He points to the big one on his chest that I had traced the last time we were down here.

“We were clapped in irons and brought down the mountain,” Arlon says. “Fawn patched me up, but she later told me she spotted me as non-bloodline almost immediately. When time came for our sentencing from the constable, she negotiated a deal. While the others were sent to a granite quarry for their sentence, I’d work the magiline mine for the Crux. So every day for a full year, I went down those stairs to mine and shape focuses.”

“Gods, that sounds backbreaking,” I mutter.

“That was the constable’s hope,” Arlon says. “It’s a miracle I still enjoy doing it, really. The granite quarries are far worse - the reason that the sentence was only a year is because most don’t survive it, whether it be from an accident or someone else killing you for your dinner.” He says it with such venom that I can’t help but wonder what happened to the people who were caught with him.

“But since I was working the magiline mine, I was spared that. Fawn made sure to show me all that magic could do, and no matter how constrained I was, I couldn’t help but see glimpses of how it was made. Yet during that entire year, she didn’t tell me I had magic in my blood. I was going mad wondering why she had gone out of her way to change my sentence.”

He has a fond smile on his face, his expression far away. “Then, on the very last night of my indenture, she told me,” he says. “It felt like my entire world had dropped out from under me. For an entire year she could have used me for casting, but she recognized that because I was indentured here, I wasn’t able to give consent - not truly. If she had used me for casting, she would have been no better than Vian, who used me for years while he held the chains I was too blind to see. Instead, she waited, and showed me all that magic was capable of before telling me that I could do it.” He gives a small huff of a laugh. “She all but guaranteed that I would join the Crux the moment she intervened on my behalf.”

“Where is she now?” I wonder.

Arlon’s smile turns sad, his eyes going glassy. “She found Quietus fifteen years ago,” he says. “A cancer that even magic couldn’t heal. I never repaid her for all she did for me, but even so, she gave me one last gift by naming me Grandmaster of the Crux.”

I swallow and settle against him. “I’m sorry,” I say. I recognize that pain and know there’s nothing for it. That hole exists and no words can fill it.

Arlon tightens his grip around my shoulders. “Death is just the last step of life,” he says through a sigh. “Maybe Quietus will be kind. Maybe when I’ve taken my last breath, they’ll allow me to see her again.”

11

JEALOUSY

Because of the nature of wizard’s work, complicated emotions can arise. It is important to address any jealousy or insecurity from casting partners with open and honest communication.

Magic Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

That night, we return to Arlon’s room on equal footing. He tends to my welts and bruises, making me feel downright pampered by his attentions. The cool salve he rubs onto my abused ass wrings a moan out of me as I bury my face into his pillow.

When he’s finally finished, he lays down beside me with a groan. “I’m getting too old for days like today,” he mutters.

I snort at that. “Bullshit.”

“Says the, what, thirty-year-old?” Arlon asks.

I keep my face buried against his pillow. “Twenty-two.”

Arlon swears, and I glance up to see him run a hand through his hair. “Gods, you’re even younger than I thought. I was an adult before you were even a twinkle in your father’s eye.”

I scowl at that. “So what?”

Arlon raises an eyebrow and says, “I usually have a rule against casting with anyone who’s less than half my age. Guess I’ve made you an exception there, too.” He gives a huff of a laugh and ads, “I can’t regret it though. This has been… a hell of a week.”

I bury my face against his pillow with a smile. “You can say that again.”

“Take it from your elder,” Arlon says. “Enjoy having three orgasms a day while you can. That stamina doesn’t last forever.”

A silence passes, and I roll onto my side with a groan only to see Arlon watching me, a curious expression on his face.

“It took a lot of courage to leave your home and come here,” he says after a moment. “I can guarantee that if my caravan hadn’t forced me out, I never would have left. What was the tipping point for you?”

I let out a quiet sigh. “Breaking my drawing arm sealed it, but it wasn’t easy to stay after my da died. Things were just… lonely. The cabin had too many memories.”

“Were you close?” he asks.

“Had to be,” I say through a short laugh. “Our cabin was smaller than this room. But he was a good man. Strict, but not cruel. At least… not usually.”

“What do you mean?”

I sigh and flop onto my back as I run my hand through my hair. “He… had a very specific idea of who his son should be. Any time I deviated from that, he made sure I felt his disappointment. He was pushing me to settle down with this nice girl from town right before he died.” I put my hand over my eyes and mutter, “If he could see what I’m doing now, he’d probably be rolling in his grave.”

Arlon gives a quiet scoff. “Do you regret coming here?”

“What?” I lift my hand from my eyes to stare at him. “No! Of course not.”

“Good.” Arlon grabs my chin and makes me look at him. “Not everyone has the freedom to decide their own fate. You made the choice to come here, to study magic that has the potential to change the world we live in for the better. Carrying the expectations of others, living or not, will only hold you back.”

My smile comes out crooked. “Letting them go is easier said than done.”

Arlon cups my head and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I know. We’re all products of where we came from,” he says gently. “Unlearning what we’ve been taught to expect from ourselves is no small task, but I can promise you that the work is worth it.”

I draw in a deep breath and let it out. “I know. I’m… trying.”

“That’s all I ask,” Arlon says. “But don’t do it for me or anyone else. Do it for yourself, Dom. You’re worth it.”

I fall asleep wrapped tight in Arlon’s arms. When I wake the next morning, I carefully extract myself, but Arlon stirs all the same. He sighs and tightens his grip on me before kissing the back of my neck.

“I want to see what you’ve conjured,” he says through a yawn.

I’ve learned this week that he usually rises early, albeit a little grudgingly, but this is far before his normal time. The sun is barely graying the horizon, but he gets up all the same. I try to hide my smile as he gets dressed, looking more disheveled than I’ve ever seen him. Even so, he follows me down to the conjuration yard, sleep still creasing his face.

He comes up behind me and drapes a new string of spells onto my necklace. Ten in all that we created together. It’s… satisfying to feel a week’s worth of spells added to the weight around my neck. When I run my hands over them, I feel two castings each of the three spells we had cast yesterday, plus two of the evocations and enchantments he got out of me during my punishment.

“I’ll keep two, and two will go into the Crux stores,” he says. “Unless they’re teleportation spells, conjurations usually stay with the caster who created them, so you get to keep all of the ones you made yesterday. Overall, you’ve netted us quite a few this week.”

He drops one of my conjurations into my hand before stringing the remaining four onto my new strand. Sleepily, he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

I smile and twirl the focus between my fingers. Whatever it is, it’s strong. I plant my feet, hold the focus out in front of me, and release the spell. The air in front of us shimmers before a crack of light appears like it’s been ripped into the very fabric of the sky. Behind me, Arlon draws in a breath, and when I look back, his eyes are wide, all trace of sleepiness gone. A smile spreads over his face as he looks at me before reaching out to grab the edge of reality, pulling it aside like a curtain.

“Go inside,” he says, but at my look, he chuckles. “It’s safe, I promise.”

I do as asked, slipping through the curtain and gasp. Somehow, impossibly, I’ve stepped into a… cabin. Almost like what me and my da had in the Hobokins. But where ours was small and drafty, this could easily fit twenty people. Inside, it’s a noticeable difference in temperature from the chill morning air. I step into the warmth with an amazed laugh.

I put a hand against the wood wall, feeling the smooth grain under my fingers. The air inside is fresh, scented with a hint of pine. There’s a cookstove and stone chimney that runs up one wall. Golden light comes from a source I can’t place. There’s even a large bed in one corner and a large wooden bath that steams with hot water. There are no windows, but I can’t help but think it’s the most comfortable space I’ve ever been in.

Arlon’s footsteps sound across the wood floor as an amazed laugh escapes me. “I made this?”

“You did,” he says. “And do you want to know the best part?” He reaches behind him, where I can see the sliver of the courtyard through the crack in the door. He grabs the very real knob and closes it before he says, “With the door shut, no one on the outside will be able to find it. You’ve created a truly safe space here.”

I run a hand through my hair, grinning from ear to ear. It takes me a second to notice Arlon watching me, a curious look on his face.

“I told you to think about this week when casting it,” he says as he walks over to me. “I didn’t know what to expect from the spell, but this…” He cups my cheek. “Dom, I’m honored that you felt safe enough to create something like this.”

I put my hand over his and lean into his touch. “Thanks for making sure I was safe. I was glad to have you looking out for me.”

Arlon smiles, and his kiss makes a warmth rush through me that has nothing to do with my conjuration. “It was my pleasure.”

The sun has breached the horizon by the time we walk out of the safety of my spell. It feels strange when we part ways outside of the mess hall, but I hold onto the fact that if I don’t see him sooner, I’ll see Arlon on Monday. Freedom is definitely going to be an adjustment, but at least I’ll get the weekend to rest and recover.

I head into the mess, and this early, Cancassi is the lone figure in the otherwise abandoned hall. They sip from a steaming mug and are so intent on their book that they don’t notice me as I grab my breakfast. It’s only when I take a seat across from them that they look up, copper eyes immediately going to my neck.

“You’ve been released,” they say with a smile. “It certainly looked like you had earned it. You were in it deep last night.”

It takes me a second to realize what they’re saying. I try and rub the heat from my face with no luck. “Fuck, that’s right - you and Olbric were in the baths, weren’t you? I thought I had imagined it.”

Cancassi gives a musical little laugh. “Gods, you were out of it. Seemed like you enjoyed yourself.”

“It’s been a good week,” I say even as I rub my neck, searching for the collar that’s in my pocket until Monday. “I’m kind of at a loss for what to do now.”

“Olbric has certainly been eager for your freedom,” they say slyly. “Or I could always help you find direction. I’ve had a specific lower caliber enchantment spell that’s been on my mind lately.”

“I think I need a few days to recover first.” My cock doesn’t so much as stir at the idea of casting right now. It feels like I’ve been drained dry. “Give me until the end of the week, then absolutely.”

Cancassi smiles. “It’s a date, then.”

Once I’m finished with breakfast, and Cancassi’s cup is empty, they ask if I can walk them up to their room. “It’s only on the second floor of the illusion tower, but the stairs have been killing me.”

“I’m sure Arlon could move your room to the first floor,” I say even as I grab their book and offer them a hand up.

Cancassi takes it and stands with a groan, their beautiful face twisted into a grimace.

“I think it’s just pride stopping me at this point,” they admit. “I keep thinking it’ll get better, but winter has been hard, and it’s barely even started.”

“I’m sorry,” I say as we walk out of the mess together. They lean heavily against me, their limp noticeably more pronounced. “Have you found anything that helps?”

“The baths do. Olbric’s magiline wrap does some too,” they say through a sigh. “The tincture that Galiva gave me takes the edge off, but the side effects are a bit too much for me.”

“Side effects?”

“It’s difficult to function,” they say. “I get tired and dizzy, and all of me feels… leaden. I only use it to sleep.”

We reach the stairs, and Cancassi sighs as they look up at them, visibly daunted. It twists my heart in my chest, and before they can attempt the first step, I pull them into a tight embrace. Cancassi stiffens with surprise before relaxing against me. Their arms twine behind my back as they let out a long breath. I loosen my embrace so I can catch their lips, swallowing their small, contented sigh. When we part, I rest my forehead against theirs.

“I’m real glad you’re still alive, Cass.”

Cancassi gives a small laugh, and I notice that tears wet the corners of their eyes even as they smile. “Me too.” They let out a shuddering breath. “It’s just adjusting to this new kind of life that’s proving difficult.”

“I know,” I say and kiss their temple.

The Maeve nuzzles against my shoulder. “I’ll adapt,” they say. “And if not, I’ll have you and everyone else to carry me up and down the stairs, right?”

I smile and scoop them up before catching their lips again. “Always.”

Part of me thought Olbric would be waiting for me on my release, but I was wrong. He’s not in his room, and I don’t catch him in the mess hall for lunch, either. I don’t track him down until that afternoon when I walk by the illusion tower on my way to the library. He’s found a quiet spot in an alcove on the first floor that’s tucked into a niche in the wall, so hidden that I nearly pass him by.

He’s intent on the book he’s poring over and doesn’t notice me as I approach. He’s got a frown on his face, but behind his spectacles, his eyes are still. It looks like his thoughts are anywhere but on the words in front of him.

“Good read?” I ask.

It’s enough to startle him out of his daze. He looks up but doesn’t quite meet my eyes, his smile hollow. “As interesting as magical theory can be, I suppose,” he says and pushes his spectacles up to rub his eyes. He looks tired, too, his face drawn. I frown as I take the seat across from him.

“What’s wrong? You look terrible,” I say.

“Thanks.” His tone is as chilly as the draft through the Crux. He snaps his book closed, and I realize he’s angry.

I hold up my hands. “Shit - I’m sorry, I was only ribbing you.” There were times after his run-in with Diran that the memories would ambush him. I’d see the fear light in his eyes before he’d lash out. They’ve never gone away, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening now. This seems like something else.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?”

He looks anywhere but at me, like he’s deciding how to answer. Finally, he buries his face in his hands and lets out a deep sigh.

“I don’t know,” he says at last. “It’s been a long week. Galiva’s been at the clinic, I had a botched illusion spell with Cancassi and then last night, I saw Arlon bring you down to the baths, and I just…”

“Just what?”

Olbric groans and scrubs his face, but it’s a moment longer before he answers. “I was jealous.”

I blink in surprise, but Olbric keeps his face buried. I want to touch him, but he’s closed himself off so much that I don’t want to cross a boundary. Instead, I scoot my chair close so my knees just barely brush his.

I don’t want to let this fester. When Arlon was making his rounds, I overheard Iona talking about Thaddius and Ambra’s relationship being strained since she’s been back. I’ve seen how jealousy can create fractures, and I don’t want anything to cause that with Olbric.

“Let’s talk about it,” I say gently. Olbric sighs and runs a hand over his hair, but at least he finally looks at me before quickly looking away again. It’s a small step, at least. “What made you feel that way?”

“It’s stupid,” he mutters.

“It’s not, though. Not if it’s making you feel like this.”

Olbric rests his elbows on his knees, head in his hand. “Because of the… political situation with my father, Arlon’s never collared me,” he says at last. “We talked about doing it for my abjuration mastery, but he said he didn’t want to create unnecessary tension. At the time, I agreed with him. But then seeing you deep in it with him… I was jealous of both of you. Wanting to be the one to make you look like that, yet also wanting to be you.” He sighs and rubs his eyes. “In the baths, it all just sort of hit me at once.”

I’m quiet as I digest that. “This was an intense week,” I admit. “Arlon did things with me that I don’t think anyone can copy. We agreed on a standing casting date every week, so I guess I wasn’t exactly joking when I said he’s ruined me to being collared by anyone else.”

Olbric deflates, and the hurt on his face sends an unpleasant jolt through me. His hazel eyes go back to evading. I cup his cheek and make him look at me. I hate feeling like I’ve wounded him, but I need him to understand.

“Olbric, I don’t want you to collar me,” I say. “Everything I did with Arlon was for casting, but what we do together - it goes beyond that. I want to laugh with you, and spend time with you, and… be with you.” I can’t stop a small laugh. “You make me feel like no one else can. Seeing you only one day a week would be unbearable.”

Olbric’s face darkens into a blush as a tentative smile flickers onto his face. He rubs his cheek as he says, “God, and I’m the one who suggested you talk to Arlon in the first place. Guess I have no one to blame but myself.”

I snort at that and stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You shouldn’t be blaming anyone,” I point out. “No one’s at fault. Least of all you.” He gives me a small smile, and I lean forward to press a grateful kiss against his lips. “Is there anything I can do - or avoid doing to help you in the future? I don’t want this new casting arrangement with Arlon to cause any ill will.”

Olbric chuckles quietly. “I’ll be fine. Though I think I’ll avoid the baths Monday evening. I know that Arlon’s helping you hone your craft, but God knows I don’t need to see you in a blissful post-fuck haze that I wasn’t the cause of.”

“I’ll make sure you have plenty of opportunities to get me there yourself,” I say. I cup his head in my hands before kissing him again, letting it linger this time. He relaxes, sighing against my lips. When I pull away, he closes his eyes as he nuzzles against my hand.

It sends an unexpected thrill through me, and I trail my thumb over his lips. Without a thought, Olbric draws it into his mouth and sucks. I shiver, my eyes going wide as the thrill turns to a heady rush. It’s such a familiar gesture, yet I’m usually on the other end of it.

“Has anyone ever collared you?” I ask.

“No,” he says around my thumb. Is it just me, or does he sound a little breathless? His eyes are as wide as mine as I explore the inside of his mouth before pulling my thumb away to let him speak. “Not really. Galiva and I tried, but it just… wasn’t right for either of us.”

I hum as I trace the bow of his lower lip. “What if I collared you?”

Olbric’s breath hitches, and when he gives me that searching look, he seems to find something he didn’t expect. “I think I’d like that,” he says, definitely breathless now.

The reality of what I’ve proposed hits me like a falling boulder. “Will you give me some time?” I ask even as a plan already starts to form in my head. “I’m… still new at this, and I want to be sure it’s perfect.”

Olbric’s face breaks into a smile, and I’m so happy to see it. “I can wait.”

I mirror his smile and lean forward. I barely brush his lips as I say, “I’ll make sure it’s worth it.”

12

BAD DIVININGS

Divination is considered one of the riskier schools of magic, but that is because, in part, it is the least understood. The depths of the silver are vast, and there is so much about what divination magic can be used for that we have yet to discover.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

*Please note that this chapter contains brief mentions of sexual assault as well as trauma during sensory deprivation.

On Monday, I go to Arlon’s office with my collar around my neck. I’m a bit early, but to my surprise, I’m not the first one there. Allisande’s voice is muffled from behind the closed door, though at least it seems like a civil conversation this time. Her voice is too quiet for me to make out what she’s saying. I’m not about to let her be the reason I get spanked for being late, so I knock.

“Come in, Dominai,” Arlon calls.

I smile as I step inside and close the door behind me. Arlon motions me over, and I give Allisande an apologetic grin before I kneel by his desk.

She raises an eyebrow and asks, “Am I ever going to be able to cast divination with Dom again, or are you keeping him?”

“We have an agreement that every Monday, he belongs to me,” he says. “What he does outside of that time is up to him.”

I glance up at Allisande and wink. She rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but chuckle. I’ll catch up with her and Margeurite tomorrow. After a week of being collared, it’s been too long since I’ve been in the silver, and I feel bad about my absence. I haven’t given up trying to seek out information on Diran, and I know she hasn’t either.

“What brings you in so early?” Arlon asks. He rests his hand on my head, and the familiar weight feels nice.

Allisande takes a seat across from him with a sigh. “A question of magical theory.”

Arlon leans back in his chair. “Alright, lay it out.”

“Margeurite and I had a thought about an alternative use for the silver,” she says. “We’ve used it for dream walking to communicate with our sister tower, but we wondered about using that same theory to communicate with others.”

Arlon frowns, and I get the feeling divination is not particularly high on his list of favored schools.

“What others?” he asks. “Non-magical?”

Allisande shakes her head. “No, they were wizards. They’re just dead.”

I blink in surprise. Arlon pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Allis…”

“Hear me out!” she says with a scowl. “You won’t let me try and infiltrate the palace to question Jaret and Lucien, so what if we can get in contact with the two that were killed?”

Arlon’s hand clenches on the arm of his chair before he takes a steadying breath. “Allis, I know you want to get information, but this is bordering on heresy. What you’re suggesting is necromancy.”

“I disagree,” Allisande says simply. “We’re not defiling a corpse. We’re using the silver to try and contact someone. Just because that someone is dead doesn’t necessarily make it necromancy.”

“Try telling that to the clerics of the Lightbringer and again to the priestesses of Quietus. They will argue that any magic that tries to pierce the veil between life and death is necromancy,” he scoffs as he rubs his eyes. When he focuses on Allisande again, he looks tired. “Are you asking me if I think it’s possible or if you can try it?”

Allisande smiles sweetly. “I’m hoping the answer for both is yes.”

Arlon swears under his breath, brows furrowed. He drums his fingers against my head, and I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it. I see the conflict behind his eyes and lean up so I can kiss his hand. He blinks and looks down at me as I bow.

“What’s your opinion, Dominai?”

“I think I agree with Allis that it’s not necromancy,” I say. From what I’ve read, the rules forbidding necromancy are pretty cut and dry. It’s as simple as don’t defile a fucking corpse.

“Thank you.”

“But to dream walk, you need something to connect you with the person you’re trying to contact, right? A lock of hair, or a personal item.” It’s a part of divination I haven’t practiced in the silver, though I’ve cast with Margeurite before. “How are you going to get that from wizards that have been dead half a year?”

Allisande looks pleased by the question. “Because I believe there are ways to create a connection that runs deeper than a physical trinket. You proved that physical intimacy is enough to break through a non-detection,” she points out before leaning forward, an excited gleam in her blue eyes. “Dom, I think you might have sealed a connection with Virico the moment you put an arrow through his eye. Arlon, the same can be said for you when you took down Reese.”

Arlon glances down at me, and I see the same unease on his face that I feel in my gut. I didn’t like learning the name of the man I killed. The idea that his spirit is connected to me by virtue of the arrow I let fly makes my skin crawl.

“In other words, you need us to test your theory,” Arlon says through a sigh.

“It sure would be appreciated,” Allisande says brightly. “Otherwise, we’re at another dead end.”

I think that more than anything convinces Arlon. We’re all desperate for information, and it seems to be enough to push aside the Grandmaster’s misgivings.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll let you put me in the silver. After dinner?”

“Done,” Allisande says before looking at me. “What about you, desk pet?”

I flush and look to Arlon. “Speak freely. I won’t force you into something like this.”

I run a hand through my hair. I don’t like the idea of it, but if it works, if we’re able to get a lead on Diran, it’ll be worth it.

“I’ll do it.”

“Ideal. We’ll make an evening of it,” Allisande says with a smile even as Arlon does a poor job of hiding his displeased groan. She comes around the desk and kisses Arlon’s cheek as she puts a hand on my head. “Thank you. Both of you.”

She sweeps out of the office, and Arlon sighs as he leans back in his chair. I rest my chin against his thigh and look up at him, trying to weigh his mood. He seems less than excited about what we’ve both agreed to, and when he glances down, he must see my unasked question.

“Divination is not my favorite school,” he admits. “It’s all very inexact, and it requires a level of vulnerability that is… difficult for me. If I hadn’t been so hellbent on full mastery, I probably never would have attempted it.” He hooks a finger through my collar and draws me up to straddle his lap. “I have a feeling you will have more luck with this endeavor than I will.”

I settle comfortably on top of him and stamp down a flash of arousal at the familiar position. Even fully clothed, I can’t deny what he does to me. Godsdamn, he’s trained me quick.

But nothing gets past Arlon, and he grins as he pulls my face close. I expect to feel the nip of his teeth on my neck, but instead, his lips barely brush my skin as he purrs, “Good morning, Dominai.”

A full-bodied shudder runs through me, and I can’t stop my cock from stirring this time. “Good morning, sir.”

He presses a deliberately soft kiss against my neck, and I barely stop a moan. Fucking hell, ten minutes in, and he’s already got me back into a headspace like I never left.

When he releases my collar and rests his hands on my hips, I’m a little dizzy, heady from his very presence. He cups my cheek and taps gently to get my attention. “You are allowed to speak freely. How have the last few days been for you?”

I lean into his hand with a contented sigh. “Good, for the most part. No casting though. I think I needed a chance to recover.”

Arlon chuckles. “You and me both.”

I smile at that and turn to kiss his palm. “Did Cancassi come to talk to you?”

“They did,” he says. “I’ve given them one of the larger rooms on the first floor of the main tower. It has a private magiline bath in it to help with their leg. I’ve also gathered a few volunteers to help with the move after lunch, once Cancassi is up. I volunteered you as well.”

“I am yours to command, sir,” I say. “Though I’m happy to do it.”

“Thank you for convincing them to come see me. I didn’t realize how badly they were hurting,” Arlon says. “The Crux is too large for me to see everything, but it’s still frustrating when I overlook something important.”

Even as comfortable as I am with Arlon, my stomach still knots with nerves when I ask, “Did Olbric come to see you?”

I’m not trying to pry, but I have a feeling he might’ve after we talked. It’ll make what I’m going to ask next easier.

Arlon gives me a curious look. “No, he didn’t. Should he have?”

I shake my head and look away. “No - no, we just had… an interesting talk a couple of days ago.”

“Interesting how?”

It’s hard not to feel like I’m betraying Olbric’s trust a bit, but if I want to do this, I need Arlon’s help.

“He told me that seeing us in the baths stirred up some jealousy. Jealousy for both of us,” I say. “He told me that you’ve never been able to collar him.”

“Not for lack of want,” Arlon says through a sigh. “Olbric is so godsdamn beautiful it takes my breath away sometimes.”

I chuckle at that. “I know the feeling.” I feel a little shy when I add, “I told him that I don’t think I can be collared by anyone else but you. So instead… I offered to collar him. And he agreed.”

“Bold move,” he says appreciatively. “Do you feel ready for that?”

I bury my head against his shoulder with a groan. “Not at all. We were talking, and it just sort of came out. I asked him to give me some time to figure this out because, fucking hell, I don’t want to screw this up.”

“You won’t,” Arlon says, and his conviction helps push aside some of my doubt. “I assume you’re telling me this because you’d like my help?”

I look up at him. “Please?”

Arlon rests his hands on my hips, his thumbs stroking up under my shirt. “I’m going to assign you some work, then. How many times would you say you’ve cast?”

I swallow. “I dunno - a handful or two?”

Arlon hums at that and tilts my chin up to make me look at him. I’ve started to notice just how often I try to avoid eye contact - and not just with him, either.

“Now that you’ve seen what I do to put someone into the right headspace, the next step for you to build your confidence is to actually do the damn thing,” he says. “So I want you to spend the next couple of weeks casting. I want you to cast in different schools, even the ones that scare you. Find someone to monitor if you’re uncomfortable, but cast all the same. Cast with Olbric and pay attention to the type of conduit he is. Learn what makes him tick when he’s in that position. Talk to him. Negotiations are important with collaring. Determine what you both want out of this.”

I swallow but push my unease aside as I drag my fingers through my hair. “Yes, sir.”

“You won’t be perfect,” Arlon says. “You’ll probably make mistakes and feel foolish at times, but don’t let it discourage you. Trust yourself. And then, when you feel ready, collar Olbric and bring him here. I can’t collar him myself, but I can monitor you while you do it.”

I throw my arms around him so abruptly that I think I startle him. I bury my face against his neck, gratitude flooding me. “Thank you.”

Arlon chuckles and returns the embrace. “You’re very welcome. I look forward to seeing you embrace your dominance. You just have to find it first. And I expect you to turn your spell notes in to me every Monday so I can be sure you’re working on it.”

“I will,” I say, and for once, I feel confident in the answer.

Most of my morning is spent under Arlon’s desk, sorting through spell notes and tallying the number of focuses used into Arlon’s casting log. I get a bit of voyeuristic pleasure seeing who is casting what and with who. Olbric and Cancassi have been going at it this past week with transmutation and enchantment, though Galiva is notably absent with all the time she’s been giving to the clinic. It’s nice to see Iona and Marvin’s names pop up as well. After we got them back from Diran, there was a time that neither of them would cast or conduit, but they seem to be reclaiming it on their own terms.

Just after lunch, Arlon sends me off to help move Cancassi into their new room with permission to speak freely. I’m glad for it because the second Cancassi sees me, they scowl. “I thought you were just finished being collared!”

I hook a finger coyly through a ring on my collar. “Guess I wasn’t quite ready to be free yet. I still belong to him one day a week.”

Cancassi chuckles as they look me over. “Arlon truly has made you his bitch.”

I kiss their cheek and say, “But right now he’s lent me out to be yours. What should I grab first?”

Alix, Ambra, and Olbric all show up to help, and we make quick work of moving Cancassi’s things down to the first floor. The Maeve has more clothes than I could have imagined tucked into their drawers and closet, and I spend a couple of trips just moving those. It takes so many trips up and down the stairs that even I start to hate them before we’re through.

We’re at it for over an hour to get everything moved, but it takes another to get it all organized inside of Cancassi’s new room. By the time we’re finished, Cancassi looks exhausted but happy as they sit heavily on their new bed, carefully stretching their bad leg out in front of them. I flop down behind them with a groan even as Alix settles on the ground beside us.

“Still can’t believe you get a big one,” Olbric says as he sits next to Cancassi. He pulls out the silvery magiline wrap he’s used to soothe some of my aches and pains in the past and holds it out to Cancassi. “Here. A housewarming present. Or roomwarming, I guess.”

Cancassi looks at him in surprise. “This took you a full year to make - I can’t accept this.”

“Like hell, you can’t,” Olbric says. “Besides, I’m two years into a bigger one.”

Cancassi takes the silvery cloth in their long fingers before setting it on their lap. They draw Olbric into a tight embrace. “Thank you.”

Olbric smiles and kisses their cheek. “You’re welcome. You’ll put it to better use than I would anyway.”

“You still staying away from evocation?” Ambra asks quietly from her seat in the chair by the window.

“Not avoiding it. Just… taking a step back,” Olbric says through a sigh. “I’m not ready to be sent out again.”

“You know Arlon wouldn’t make you go,” I point out.

Olbric waves a hand. “I know. I just can’t help but feel guilty. If I don’t go, then someone else has to.”

“You’re allowed to take care of yourself first,” Alix says. “Arlon understands.”

I look at the quiet wizard. He’s sitting with his strong arms around his half-crossed knees, but his eyes are focused on the floor. I haven’t seen heads or tails of him since Arlon and I stopped by his room last week, and I wonder if that’s not why the Grandmaster asked him to help today. Something to get him out of his room.

“How are you faring?” Cancassi asks gently.

Alix shrugs one shoulder. “Alright. Haven’t made a spell since I’ve been back, but Arlon’s assured me he won’t kick me out. I think I just need more time.”

He’s not wearing his robe, so I ask, “What masteries do you have?”

“Abjuration, evocation, illusion, transmutation, and enchantment,” he says.

I let out a whistle of admiration. The only people I can think of with more masteries are Allisande, Arlon, and Garrett. An idea springs to my mind, but I hesitate to say it.

“I hope that this isn’t weird to ask,” I say as I rub the back of my neck. “I’ve been having some trouble with casting, so Arlon suggested that I ask someone to monitor me while I try a few different schools. With your experience… would you be interested?”

It feels a little strange. I don’t know Alix except in passing, but he looks at me in surprise before a small smile quirks his lips. I’d even say he looks pleased.

“Sure,” he says. “Just let me know when. My schedule is… pretty open.”

I return the smile and catch Olbric’s eye. “Once I find a willing conduit, I’ll let you know.”

On our way to the divination tower, I tell Arlon about Alix.

“I’m glad that he agreed,” he says. “The past few months have been a struggle for him. He’s a hell of a wizard, though. Has a unique perspective that I think you’ll find valuable.”

I want to ask what he means, but we arrive at our door on the first floor of the divination tower, and Arlon knocks. Allisande opens it and greets us with a smile.

“Thank you both for coming,” she says and steps aside to let us in.

“At least it’s gotten you talking to me again,” Arlon says. It’s strange to see him look nervous. I didn’t think anything could shake him.

It’s a bigger casting room than the one I usually use. Comfortable chairs rest along the wall, as if people spend a lot of time in here. If fishing for strong divinations, people probably do.

Margeurite walks over to kiss my cheek, her curled horn just barely brushing my skin. “We have missed you. Thank you for agreeing to this.”

“Missed you too.” I look at the three magiline pillars that cut a line through the center of the room. “Is there anything I should know about this kind of divination? I’ve never actually done any dream walking.”

Margeurite slips my robe off of my shoulders. “This is all very experimental,” she admits. “But focus is key. Dream walking is difficult because you are not only navigating the silver, but to an extent, someone else’s mind. It can be easy to get lost.”

I run a hand through my hair. “I’ll bet.”

It’s easy enough to get lost in the silver on its own. Fortunately getting lost tends to lead me to interesting places. It’s only become frustrating with this whole Diran situation. At times, it’s like I can almost see his face in the flash of colors, but it never stays long enough for me to grab on to.

“When I’m dream walking, I tend to imagine that the person touching me is the one I’m trying to contact,” Margeurite says. “It makes it easier to stay focused.”

I wince at that. All I remember of Virico is that sneer. His burned, leaking flesh stretched into a snarl. That, and the sickly sound it made when my arrow punched into his eye.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

Behind me, I hear Arlon’s frayed chuckle. His fingers are gentle as he unbuckles the collar from around my neck before kissing the skin underneath.

“We’ll do our best,” he says.

I take a steadying breath before I undress. Arlon does the same, and he kisses my head once more before he heads to the left of the center pillar. I take the right.

“How long are we in for?” Arlon asks.

Allis puts her hand on the pillar closest to Arlon. “I thought we’d try three hours. We will do a verbal check-in every hour.” It’s not the longest I’ve gone, but it’s close to it. Margeurite kisses my cheek as she takes up a spot on the closest pillar to me.

Arlon sighs and rolls his shoulders. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.” He looks to me and asks, “Ready?”

I let out a breath. “Ready, sir.”

As Allis directs the silver to cover Arlon, Margeurite guides it onto me. It creeps up steadily, and I relax into it with a sigh. The familiar warmth covers me as it crawls up my legs and hips. I roll my shoulders before it gets to my arms and lean my head back, so when the silver slides over my neck, it supports me like a pillow. It fills my mouth, pools in my ears. I close my eyes as I fall into it.

After a couple of weeks off, it feels nice to be back. The floor sinks away, and for a timeless moment, I just float. After a couple months casting with Margeurite and Allis, I’ve asked them to let me hang for a bit to start. Being left alone in the silver used to scare me, but now it’s strangely comforting. I let my mind go blank, allowing the thoughts of the cave and Virico to disappear into the void as I focus on the steady in and out of my breath.

I’m almost dozing by the time someone touches me. It’s a ghost of a touch, feather light against my arm. I let out a loud sigh to let them know I feel them before their hands rest against my back. I’ve cast with them so often in the past few months that we’ve begun to understand each other’s unspoken languages.

I can tell just by how she starts that it’s Margeurite touching me. Allis tends to go straight for my cock, but Margeurite has a slower approach. Her touches are gentle, almost reverent. Strong fingers massage my back and shoulders, my arms and hands. Every finger is stretched before she poses me comfortably. She does the same to my legs and feet, and I give another long, appreciative sigh.

Only then does she start to explore. My legs are spread before she moves my arms so my hands are behind my head. She angles my elbows out, and I groan at the gentle stretch. Her mouth teases over my chest, teeth nipping gently before she soothes the spot with a kiss.

Her hand cups my crotch as her mouth trails down my navel and hip. She kisses down my thigh before moving to my cock. Her tongue laps over my tip before she draws me into her mouth, and I let out an appreciative moan. Fuck, but I’ve missed this.

The silver offers her no resistance as she coaxes me to attention. She takes her time, dragging her mouth over my cock, tongue circling my sensitive head until I groan. I savor the slow worship.

She backs away and a second later, the silver is pulled from my mouth. It doesn’t seem like enough time could have passed already, but I answer all the same.

“I’m good.”

I know I speak, but my ears can’t hear it. A second later, the silver fills my mouth again, and the brief break is over.

Margeurite starts in hotter this time. She moves my legs wider before spreading my cheeks. My ass is still a bit sore from my week with Arlon, but her lotion-slicked finger feels incredible as she massages me there, too. A second finger pushes into me, stretching me gently. When they pull out, I can’t stop a quiet sound of disappointment.

After a weekend off, my body responds eagerly, more than ready. Something curved presses into me, settling against that sweet spot inside of me. It starts to buzz, and I squeak in surprise, the jolt of sensation reminding me why I’m in here.

That’s right, focus.

The damn toy isn’t making it easy. The hands leave me, and I’m left with nothing but the buzzing thing angled just so inside of me. It hits in a good way, but it’s not strong enough to do anything more than tease me. I struggle, trying to get it to press harder, deeper, but the silver holds me helpless. Margeurite lets me stew like that until I’m groaning around the gag, tense and wanting.

Only then does she start again. She grabs the base of the toy and pulls it almost all the way out before she starts to fuck me with it, moving slow. It only aggravates my desire, wringing a tormented moan out of me. The buzzing finally stops, and I give a quiet whine of disappointment when the thing is pulled out of me.

Something bigger replaces it, stretching my sore hole. Margeurite starts stroking my cock again even as she drags the phallus out before thrusting it deeper. I grunt and can’t do anything but submit to it, feeling the delicious stretch as she thrusts in time with the tug of her hand.

The phantom voices start to speak to me. Barely-there whispers of conversation. Right - focus. I try to pick through them, try to find the voice I’m looking for.

Virico hadn’t said much to me, but his sneering voice sticks in my memory like a burr.

Hope you’re a good shot.

He’d been so confident. So sure that I wouldn’t risk shooting Olbric to get to him. He hadn’t realized how good of a shot I was.

The silver is pulled from my mouth again, and I give the same affirmative. Final stretch then. The phallus starts to speed up, fucking me faster. I remember Olbric hanging from his wrists, Virico sneering up at him with that awful, burned face. I remember his hungry intent, the eagerness for what he was going to do. Olbric was helpless and unwilling and Virico liked it.

It makes me sick to think about. My thoughts jump around, sinking to a dark place as I imagine all that went on in that cave. I can almost see it in Allisande’s eyes, hear it in Alix’s voice. I groan for a different reason, straining against the silver as the voices seem to condense into one.

Hope you’re a good shot.

Virico’s voice echoes, growing louder in the void. His last words repeat, drowning out the other voices that vie for my attention. I push the others away as I try to focus on his.

Hope you’re a good shot.

You’re a good shot.

Good shot.

Get shot.

Get SHOT.

His presence seems to cut through the void like an arrow. He slams into me, all fury and rage, and if the silver wasn’t holding me, I’d be knocked flat. As it is, I’m stunned so badly I can’t even shout. All the while, Margeurite continues, but for a sickening moment, it feels like it’s him doing it to me. Panic freezes my breath in my chest, and that fear gives him a foothold.

You did this to me.

His spirit snarls and tears at my own, vengeance searing like a brand against my mind. He’s not a singular stream of thought. Instead, he’s like a river threatening to pull me under. The anger and hatred layer over one another, so loud that I can’t think, can’t focus.

The hand on my cock tugs harder, and I shout into the gag even as what’s left of Virico rips into me. His presence is like so many needles, piercing through flesh and bone into a deeper part of me. They grab like hooks and tug. It feels like he’s trying to drag me out of my own body, but I scramble for a grip, struggling not to lose myself in the barrage.

What I was going to do to your thot of an evoker is nothing compared to what I’ll do to you.

Rage slices through me, and for a second, it burns hotter than my own fear. I latch onto that anger and remember how I’d used it in the cave. Let it steady my hand as I’d leveled my arrow. The cold calm of fury pierces through Virico, through the haze of the silver. My head clears, and my focus narrows in.

A chorus of no no no echoes through me, but I ignore it as I latch onto Virico’s spirit and yank it from mine.

Where’s Diran?

The crack of my question echoes like thunder in the void. Virico quakes.

Fuck off fuck off fuck OFF.

But no matter how he struggles, I keep hold of him, constricting like a hand around his throat. He doesn’t have any power here. He’s just the echo of a dead man, and I sought him out.

Where is he?

Margeurite redoubles her efforts, and even though my mind is the furthest thing from finishing, she’s intent on getting me there. It’s a challenge to follow the flurry of thought, as if Virico’s not sure what to settle on. I see the cave, the trees of the Hobokins, the market of Straetham, but then there’s somewhere I don’t recognize - a large castle set on a hill of rock, safe behind a wall of stone. I smell brine and hear what sounds like the roar of water before it’s gone, quick as it appeared.

I shout as Margeurite tips me over the edge. The sensation is overwhelming, and for the first time in the silver, not in a good way. It seems to last forever, even though I only want it to end. When it finally does, Virico has retreated back into the silence, but I know he’s still there. The quiet is oppressive, the stillness hiding the threat of him. It’s like I can feel him watching me, waiting to try and tear into me again.

I sob as the silver is pulled from my mouth. “Please, please get me out,” I beg though I can’t even hear if I’m making words. I must because the silver sloughs off like water. My hearing rushes back to me, and I blink through tears before I stagger into Arlon’s strong grip.

He swears, and his voice is so loud after the silence that I flinch. Even so, he’s gentle as he scoops me up and draws me into his lap. I bury my face against his shirt and can’t stop another sob as it breaks past my lips.

“You’re alright,” he murmurs gently. “You’re safe.”

I shake my head and try to wipe away the tears that just won’t stop. I manage to choke out, “I’m not doing that again.”

“Dom, I -”

Arlon cuts Allis off with a sharp, “Don’t.”

A cool hand rests on my head, smoothing my hair back. I flinch before I see it’s Margeurite. She’s gentle as she kneels next to Arlon and me, her very presence a calm comfort. A blanket is pulled over me, and finally, the panic starts to fade. I take a shuddering breath and sink against Arlon’s chest, wiping my eyes with the heel of my hand.

“What happened?” Arlon asks gently.

“I found Virico. And he was furious.” I shudder and say, “For a second, it felt like it was him outside of the silver.”

“Oh gods, Dominai,” Margeurite whispers, her eyes wide with horror. “I-I didn’t realize.”

I shake my head. “There was no way you could have.” I swallow and rub my face. “I managed to ground myself. I fought back. I asked where Diran was and he… didn’t seem to know. I saw the cave, and the Hobokins, a flash of Straetham, but then there was this castle on a rocky hill. I think it must have been on the coast. I heard water.”

“Stormhold,” Arlon mutters. “It’s the heart of the Barclay’s kingdom in Immenbach. On the southern coast of the Reach. If Diran is there, we can’t get to him.”

Somehow, that makes me feel worse. If I had been able to get useful information, maybe it would have been worth it. As it is, I went through all that for nothing. Tears sting at the corner of my eyes all over again.

“Fuck.”

Arlon tightens his grip. “Come on, let’s go to the baths.”

I nod mutely as Arlon helps me to my feet. As soon as I’m up, Margeurite draws me into a fierce embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Dom,” she whispers. I swallow and hold her tight, cheek pressed against her curled horn.

“It’s okay,” I murmur. “It’s not your fault.”

Behind me, I hear Arlon speaking in a low voice to Allisande.

“Never again,” he says sternly.

“Arlon -”

“No, Allis,” he says. “Information is not worth letting more of our own get hurt by them. You of all people should understand that.”

I glance back to see Allisande snap her mouth shut, lips drawn into a thin, bloodless line. Words seem to fail her. Instead, she turns sharply and walks from the room. Arlon swears in Tinari, and Margeurite sighs before she kisses my cheek.

“I’ll talk to her,” Margeurite says, offering a wan smile to the Grandmaster. “Thank you both for trying. We’ll just have to find a different way.”

Even though my shaking has subsided, Arlon insists on carrying me down to the baths. I let him, holding my clothes and collar in a bundle against my chest. It must be late because we don’t run into anyone on the way. I’m glad for it.

Arlon sets me onto my own feet by the pool, and I put my clothes aside before I sink into the water, drawing my knees up to my chest. I watch him strip his shirt off and realize what it must mean.

“What made you stop?” I ask quietly.

Arlon sets his trousers aside before he sinks into the pool with me, pulling me close. I’m grateful for the comfortable weight of his arms and relax against him.

“I don’t know,” he says at last. “In the second hour, the silver just started to feel… wrong. It was like I could feel him watching me. As strange as it sounds, it felt like that moment before an ambush. I stopped before the third hour.” Arlon shakes his head and gives a wry grin. “Told you that you’d have better luck than I would.”

The sound I make is too bitter to be called a laugh. “Lot of good it did us.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t discount yourself,” Arlon admonishes gently. “You proved Allisande’s theory. You were brave enough to try it and follow through to the end. We may not have gotten the information we were hoping for, but this wasn’t a failure - even if it cost more than I’m willing to let anyone pay again.” He sighs and presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m so sorry you experienced that.”

I shake my head and say, “I decided to do it. I knew the risks.” I let out a sigh as Arlon tightens his grip on me. I sink into the safety of his arms and close my eyes. “He could be anywhere, but one of the places Virico thought he might be is in Straetham. Can we put a watch out for him?”

“The city guard has been told to keep an eye out since spring,” Arlon says. “But Straetham is a large city, and who knows how hard they’re looking? We can assign some of our own patrols, though we risk Captain Thora claiming I’m infringing on the guard.”

He sounds as frustrated as I feel. It’s like our hands are tied at every turn we take. “How do you think he’s creating a non-detection?” I ask after a moment. “It’s got to be some sort of abjuration.”

Arlon sighs, and I can tell it’s a question he’s been trying to puzzle out as well. “That’s my thought. I have a couple of theories, though I don’t like the method for either. One involves using the silver in conjunction with an abjuration bind, but Diran doesn’t have the amount of magiline necessary for such a spell. The other is a mixture of abjuration and illusion. Drugging someone to incoherency before leaving them tied for an extended time.”

I shudder, remembering Olbric hanging in shackles, his arms wrenched at an awful angle, though he was too drugged to realize it.

“That sounds like the likely one,” I mutter before a thought strikes me. I gasp and sit upright, making Arlon jump in surprise. “Isa.”

“What?”

“Isa, the mercenary. The one we caught up with just outside of Diran’s cave,” I say. “We’ve only been focusing on Diran for divination, but what about her?”

Arlon blinks and leans back against the lip of the pool as he mulls that over. “Catching Sight of her will be the hard part, but the chances that she’s under a non-detection are slimmer than Diran,” he says. “Even if she’s no longer working for him, it might be worth it to try. Every merc has a price, and the Crux can afford hers if it means finding Diran.” He runs a hand through his hair and says, “You should be the one to tell Allisande and Margeurite that lead. I have a feeling Allis is back to not speaking to me.”

I lean up to kiss his cheek and am rewarded with a quiet sigh. “She’ll come around. With Diran still out there, I can’t imagine how heavy this weighs on her.”

Arlon sighs and rubs his eyes, looking tired. “I know. I’m not trying to be unsympathetic, but I can’t have her risking you or anyone else for the sake of progress. We won’t - we can’t stoop to their level.”

13

EVOCATION PRACTICE

While inflicting pain through a flogger or other impact device can often create powerful force blast effects, there are a number of other sensations that are often overlooked when creating evocations. Hot wax, for example, can give an element of a fire burst to your spells.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

*Please note this chapter contains brief mentions of rape and sexual assault.

Sleep is a long time coming that night. When I close my eyes, it feels like Virico is waiting for me, lurking just on the other side of the veil between here and Quietus. Arlon is patient and understanding. He stays awake, stroking my hair and kissing my neck and shoulders until I doze off with his arms around me.

When I wake the next morning, I carefully extract myself from his grip. I’d wait for him to get up, but I have a feeling he’ll sleep late today, and he deserves the rest. I don’t know how long it took me to fall asleep, but Arlon was still murmuring quiet comforts to me when I did.

I’ve gotten rather good at sneaking around without waking him. Doesn’t hurt that he’s a heavy sleeper. I still go through my normal routine, setting his clothes and robe out for him before polishing his shoes and putting them under his chair. He hasn’t ordered me to do it, but I know he appreciates it. I stoke the fire again and press a light kiss to his cheek before I leave.

After such a rough night, the only thing I want to do is go to Olbric’s room, but my rumbling stomach makes me swing by the mess hall. When I walk through the doors, I’m surprised to see that Allisande is already up. It’s only after I grab my breakfast and go to sit next to her that I realize she’s been waiting for me. I yelp as she throws her arms around me, and barely manage to save my cup of tea from scalding my hand.

“Hell Allis, let me put my stuff down,” I say with a laugh.

“Dom, I am so sorry,” she says, and it’s only then I see that she’s crying. I swear and set my breakfast on the table before I pull her with me to sit on the bench.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I say gently and tilt her face up. There are bags under her eyes, and it’s obvious she hasn’t slept a wink. “I’m okay. It went sideways, but I promise I’m fine.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the full truth either.

She shakes her head, her red hair falling in front of her eye. “It was a bad idea from the start. Virico was the most vicious of them, and I still asked you to do it.”

“I knew the risks, and I agreed to it anyway. It was a good theory, and it was worth it to try.” It doesn’t do anything to ease the guilt written on her face, so I say, “But I had another idea last night.” She looks up at me and wipes the tears on her sleeve. “What if we track Isa?”

She blinks in confusion. “Who?”

“The mercenary that Diran hired,” I say, equally confused now. I thought she’d be jumping at that, but I’m met with another blank look. “We caught up to her outside of the cave. Galiva interrogated her under enchantment. She told us she was working for him.”

Allisande runs a hand through her hair, frowning. “A woman?” she asks, and I nod. “Diran never let us out of that room except to bathe. There could have been a whole crew of mercs that we never knew about. I never saw her, but I think I heard her voice.” Her mind starts to work behind those intelligent blue eyes. “I’m not familiar enough with her to try it.”

“I don’t know anything more than her face and her voice,” I admit. “But Galiva questioned her. It might be worth asking her to conduit.”

Allisande nods, and a bit of hope breaks through her guilt. She wraps her arms around me again, and I return the embrace, holding her tight.

“You know the last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you or anyone else, right?” Her arms tighten around me, her face buried against my neck. “I’m so sorry you experienced that.”

“I know.” I press a kiss to the side of her head. “It just… shook me, is all. I promise that I’ll be okay.” I tilt her head up and catch her lips to prove it, breathing in her quiet sigh. “I know I say that I’ll try anything twice - but I think you found the thing I’m only going to do once.”

Allisande gives a wet laugh and kisses my cheek. “And I’d never ask you to try again,” she promises. “No one should have to know what it was like in that cave.” That darkness settles behind her eyes again, but she pulls away with a wan smile. “Thank you for the lead, Dom. I’ll talk to Galiva.”

“Good luck,” I say and mean it. “Know that we all want to find him as bad as you do.”

Allisande nods and rubs her tired eyes. “I know,” she says. “And we will. I’m sure of it.”

After I eat my breakfast, I head towards Olbric’s room. It’s far too early for him, so I don’t knock as the focus on his door clicks open to let me in. He’d given me permission to come whenever I needed to, and I sure need it now. I wasn’t lying to Allisande when I said I was okay, but yesterday definitely shook me. Arlon helped me through the worst of it last night, but all I want to do now is see Olbric.

I slip quietly into his room and stop short. He’s curled up under his blankets, breath coming heavy and slow. The lingering unease from last night fades at the sight of him. Even in sleep, he’s beautiful, a few strands of dark hair draped over his cheek, his face serene.

I put my robe over his chair and take my shoes off before I slip into his bed behind him. He shifts slightly, a contented sigh escaping him as I drape my arm over his waist. It’s warm and comfortable in his room, and I start to doze as I hold him. I’m not sure how much time passes, but the sun is up by the time he starts to stir.

“Hey,” I murmur.

He lets out a quiet groan and stretches before he rolls to face me with a smile. “This is a rather nice way to wake up.” He blinks the sleep from his eyes, and his smile fades as he gets a good look at me. “What’s wrong?”

I tell him what happened in the silver, and his eyes widen in horror as his hand cups my cheek. I lean into him and say, “I’m fine. Just… rattled, still.”

“I don’t blame you,” he says. “Virico was a right delightful bastard from what I can remember. Was responsible for the black eye and the split lip.” Shadows cross behind his eyes, but he forces them aside with a smile. “I don’t know how you do it. Divination scares the shit out of me.”

I don’t want to talk about Virico either. Instead, I give a small laugh. A small part of me agrees with him. “What happened when you tried it?”

Olbric gives a wry grin. “Learned I’m afraid of confined spaces and got a muscle cramp all at once. Was not my proudest moment.”

“Really? You’re an abjurer and evoker. Being confined is what you do.”

“At least let a man squirm!” He says it with such righteous indignation that I can’t help but laugh. It persists until my sides start to hurt, and not for the first time, I realize how grateful I am to know him. No one else can lift me out of a mood quite like Olbric. He smiles as he pulls me close before kissing the top of my head.

I lean back so I can look at him, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. Even disheveled from sleep, he makes my heart skip a beat when he gives me that look. He usually wears his thick black hair tied up, but it does something to me when he puts it down.

I slide my hands through it and grip gently at the roots before tugging his head back. His gasp of surprise sends a thrill through me.

“I could make you squirm today,” I offer.

Olbric shivers as I kiss down his neck before nipping gently. He gives a sweet little groan. Well, that’s definitely encouraging.

“Give me a second to wake up, then I’m all yours.”

While Olbric gets breakfast, I seek out Alix. He’s on the second floor of the abjuration tower, just a couple of doors down from Galiva’s room. His door opens as I approach, and I hear Arlon’s deep voice before Alix laughs.

The Grandmaster steps from the room, and he goes to close the door before he catches sight of me. “Uncanny timing,” Arlon murmurs, and I realize they must have been talking about me during their weekly check-in. “Good morning, Dominai. I didn’t get a chance to see how you were feeling this morning.”

The concern is still there, and I regret leaving before he got up. I close the distance between us and have to lean up to kiss his cheek.

“I’m fine, sir,” I say, slipping into it even without the collar on. “Thank you.”

Arlon smiles down at me. “I’m glad.”

I try to shake it off. No good getting into the wrong headspace now. My nerves are already squirming. “I’m casting an evocation spell with Olbric today.”

Arlon squeezes my shoulders. “Then I won’t distract you.” He kisses the top of my head before heading off down the hall. “Have a good time.”

I flush red, but before I reach Alix’s door, he comes out of it. He pulls his robe on as he shuts the door behind him.

“I assume you’re looking for a monitor, yeah? I’m in,” he says and flashes me a white-toothed smile. Whatever conversation he and Arlon had seems to have put him in a good mood.

Well, that’s one worry erased. I was afraid I was springing it on him too quick. “Thank you.”

Alix falls into step beside me as we head for the stairs. “What do you have in mind for a spell?”

I tell him, and he grins with obvious approval. “Ambitious, but I think you can do it,” Alix says. “You’re not planning on using beeswax, are you?”

“Gods no, it burns way too hot,” I say. “I found some candles in the market with Galiva a few months ago. Haven’t had a chance to use them, though I tested them on myself a while ago.”

“Good,” Alix says. “It sounds like you’re ready. Do you feel ready?”

I give a small laugh and run my hand through my hair. “Not really.” I can’t shake the feeling that I could seriously hurt someone with a spell like this. “Casting evocation scares the hell out of me.”

“Well, you couldn’t have a better conduit,” Alix says. “Olbric likes pain more than your average evoker, and he’s not afraid to use a stop if he has to. Though if you can push his limit, I’ll be impressed.” He shoots me a wry grin, and it dawns on me that he’s probably cast with Olbric before. Can’t deny that that’s a pretty image in my head. “You’ll do fine.”

I hope he’s right. We make it to Olbric’s usual casting room, and he’s already waiting for us. He’s even got a fire started in the hearth to chase the chill from the room. He beams at me as we enter, and the knot of anxiety in my gut releases some. Alix comes in behind us and closes the door before taking a seat in the spare chair along the wall.

“You’re alright with Alix monitoring?” I ask.

Olbric winks at the man. “And more if you want.”

Alix leans back comfortably. “Nope. You’re all Dom’s today. I think you’ll have more than enough fun without me.”

I drape my arms over Olbric’s shoulders. “Anything you don’t want me doing?” In the past, he’s asked Galiva to avoid certain areas - whether they’re sore, or he’s saving the spot for a higher caliber spell.

“One small limit today,” he says. “Don’t cinch my arms up over my head. Cancassi tried it for an illusion spell a couple of days ago and it, ah, dredged up some bad memories.”

I immediately know why. It’s how Virico dislocated his shoulder. I drag him into a kiss, and it’s enough to chase the dark look from his face. “Got it.”

Olbric smiles against my lips before I let go and head to the cabinet. I grab two coils of rope that I store in the pocket of my robe for now. Next, I pull the bedroll from the bottom drawer and lay it out on the stone floor. I’m all too aware of Olbric and Alix watching me, and I try not to feel foolish as I get everything set up. I scrape my fingers through my hair, trying to stamp out my nerves.

“Go ahead and strip for me.”

Olbric smirks. “Oh, you want me to strip.” He turns his back to me before pulling his shirt off slow, giving me a lewd look over his shoulder.

I can’t help but chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

He kicks his slippers off before shimmying his pants down, waggling his hips at me as he does. I press a hand over my smile as I watch him, trying not to laugh. He kicks his clothes aside before looking at me over his shoulder. I walk over to him and can’t resist giving his ass a swat before I grab his arm. He melts against me as I draw him close to stroke over his bare skin.

Pressed against me, I can feel his shiver of anticipation. My cock stirs even as I reach down to toy with his. His request not to have his arms tied up over him changes my plans a little, but I can adapt. I put my hands on his hips and walk him over to the bedroll, fondling him all the way before I push him to his knees. I smile down at him, seeing the naked anticipation on his face.

After feeling so helpless last night, this is exactly what I need. For the first time, I feel ready to cast, to be in control. It’s heady to still be clothed with Olbric naked and kneeling in front of me. I tilt his chin up, my thumb brushing his lips.

“Lay on your front.”

Olbric does, and I can’t resist giving his perky ass another swat. “I have good news for you,” I say as I take the two candles from my pocket and set them on the ground out of his sight. “You get to stay untied for now.”

“Oh, really?” he says curiously, and I can see him trying to figure out what spell I’m weaving. I walk over to the fireplace and light both of my candles, one white and one black. I set the black one on the ground, but keep the white one in hand as I let the wax melt and pool around the wick. Then, I walk up behind Olbric before I tip the candle, letting the wax drip onto his back.

He gasps in surprise, arching a little on the bedroll before he relaxes with a groan. “Oh, I see.”

“Too hot?”

“No, not at all.” He sinks against the mat, resting his head on his hands as he closes his eyes. I kneel by him and hold the candle on its side, letting the wax drip steadily over him. The closer I bring the candle, the hotter the wax is when it hits his skin, but Olbric just moans, curling his hands into fists. I put my hand on his lower back as I bring the candle closer, dripping it onto his ass. He chuckles and kicks his feet against the ground, grinning from ear to ear.

His enjoyment is obvious, and for an evoker like him, this amount of pain is probably just a warm up. Good thing this is just the warm up. After his back gets a good sprinkling of white, I grab the black candle. It’s got a good puddle of melted wax built up, and I hold it about a foot over Olbric before I drip it onto his shoulders. He gasps, arching off of the mat.

“I tested these, and the black burns hotter,” I say.

“No shit,” Olbric says and buries his face against his arm. He tenses when more drips onto his back, making a pattern around the white. I aim for the spots I haven’t hit yet and am rewarded with his endearing little twitches and gasps.

“Good thing you don’t have a lot of hair or this would be terrible to get off,” I tease and deliberately let a few drops fall onto the back of his thighs, where there definitely is some hair. Olbric squeals against his arm and squirms as I get the soft underside of his ass.

I don’t stop until he has a good coating covering his back and ass. I pick one cooled drop off of his side and smile as he sucks in a breath. Underneath it, his russet skin is reddened even further. I grin as I peel another piece off before kissing the sensitive flesh. Olbric’s groan is like music, and I blow what remains of the candles out.

I stroke down his back, flaking off pieces of wax that I know I’ll have to clean up later. The servants would do it, but I’m not about to make them sweep up all this. Ah well, it’s worth it. The picture I’ve made on his skin is impressive.

Olbric shivers as I pull away, and when he looks up at me, his eyes are glazed with pleasure. I offer him a hand up. “Ready to keep going?”

Olbric raises an eyebrow but takes my hand all the same. He sheds more wax as he gets up, swaying as he finds his feet.

“Some of it’s being stubborn,” I say and pick off a large chunk of wax at the base of his spine. He lets out a quiet groan of pleasure, gooseflesh prickling over his skin. “Guess we better find a way to get it off.”

“I bet you’ll figure out something,” Olbric teases, and I chuckle as I guide him over to the wall. I take one of the coils of rope from my pocket and tie it around his wrists. It’s a simple abjuration bind, but it should suffice. If all goes well, I should get a spell with a fire burst element to it.

As he asked, I don’t cinch his arms up over his head, but I do tie them through the ring that’s drilled into the wall at neck height. Once he’s secured to the spot, I press against his back to pin him flush to the cold stone. He gives a breathy gasp as I grind against him, letting him feel my erection through my trousers.

“Comfortable?”

“Very,” he purrs. I kiss his cheek and in a moment of self-indulgence, I pull the tie out of his hair, letting it fall loose. I’ll be picking wax out of it later, but I don’t care. I like how he looks with it down, and I’m the caster here, so I get to do what I like, right? I take a small step back and bring his hips away from the wall. My hands trail over his skin before I reach around and tease his half-hard cock.

Olbric moans and pushes back against me, angling his hips out in invitation. I smirk and continue to stroke him until he’s fully erect. Only then do I reach into my pocket and slip four focuses down his length. Olbric gasps as they spark, and I’m pleased that he’s riled up enough to start charging them already.

“So eager,” I tease.

“It’s been some time since I’ve done wax,” he says. “It’s better now than I remember.”

I nip a clean spot on his shoulder before I step back to appreciate the view. The black and white wax makes a pretty pattern over his skin.

“Godsdamn but you’re beautiful,” I murmur.

He rests his cheek against the stone as a smile spreads across his face. His hair hangs past his shoulders, and it softens all of his angles. With his slender limbs and the curve of his ass, he could be a woman. The thought makes heat shoot straight to my cock.

I shake off my distraction and go to the cabinet to grab Olbric’s favorite flogger. It’s heavy, with thick leather tresses that thud rather than sting. It should be good for getting the wax off of him, and even better on the sensitive skin underneath. I let the tresses drag down his back and watch him shiver as his hands clench under the ropes.

I pull his hair over his shoulder before pressing a kiss against his neck. My heart beats heavy in my chest. This is the part that scares me, but it’s like he reads my mind. He opens his eyes and smiles at me over his shoulder.

“You won’t hurt me. I mean - you will, but I promise I’ll forgive you.”

I smile and kiss his neck before I retreat a couple of steps. I test the weight of the flogger, drawing in a deep breath before I lift it and bring it down on Olbric’s back. He gasps as wax cracks and flakes off of him. It feels like too much, too hard so when I bring it down again, I’m a little gentler.

“Unclench your jaw, Dom,” Alix says, sounding amused. “It’s supposed to be fun for you, too.”

I give a small laugh. With how quiet he is, I’d nearly forgotten Alix was in the room. I roll my shoulders, opening my mouth to stretch my jaw out. I’m probably grimacing like I’m the one being beat.

Then I hear Alix’s quiet footsteps as he approaches. “Just relax,” he says. “I get it - you’re an empathetic person. Hurting someone you care about doesn’t exactly come natural, but I promise that you’re not going to hurt him in a way he doesn’t love.”

I draw in a deep breath. “Right.”

Alix pats my shoulder. “Try it again.”

He steps away, and I draw in another breath before I crack the flogger down sharply. Olbric throws his head back with a shout of bliss as more wax chips off.

“Harder,” Alix says, and I bring it down again. “C’mon Dom, I know you’ve got more in you than that.”

I swear as I lash it down again, and Olbric’s shout sends chills through me.

“There,” Alix says. “Keep it at that level.”

“Fucking hell, I feel like I’m about to flay him.”

“You’re not,” Olbric says breathlessly. “Fuck, Dom, don’t stop now. Please.”

That quiet plea sends a thrill through me. It’s definitely encouraging, and I hold onto it as I crack the flogger down with the same intensity. Olbric arches with a cry, squirming as the tresses lash over his sensitive skin. More wax comes off, and I aim for what remains. I flog his ass, taking off the layer of wax to expose the sensitive, reddened flesh underneath. I redden it a bit more before I move on to his thighs, which makes him yelp in a very different way.

It takes a few long minutes, but I realize that I’m not afraid of hurting him anymore. Every crack of the flogger proves just how right Alix is - Olbric loves this. He squirms and shouts with every lash, hips jerking against the wall before pushing back out again, presenting himself for more. I oblige and bring the tresses down again and again until only a few stubborn flecks of wax remain on his heated skin. The sight of him makes my cock throb, a thrill rushing through me with every shout of pain and pleasure. I go until my arm gets tired, until Olbric’s shouts turn to little whimpers.

When I finally drop the flogger, I’m panting. Olbric sags against the wall, limp in the ropes. His breathing is low and deep, almost meditative, but when I press myself against his abused back, he arches against me with a gasp. He turns his head and his glazed expression sends a jolt of satisfaction through me.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

Olbric groans appreciatively and grinds against my crotch. “Peachy.”

The hazy pleasure in his voice makes my cock ache with want. I grab the mounds of his ass, earning a hiss of anticipation as I spread him. His skin is hot to the touch, and I flake away a wayward piece of wax as I admire my handiwork.

He’s trembling with need, and it wrings a quiet groan out of me. This is the part I like. I like seeing how heated up I’ve gotten him. I like seeing his lust, his desperation, and I like knowing that I’m the only one who can satisfy him.

I slick my fingers with the lotion from my pocket before I spear him, driving my digits deep. Olbric shouts and arches under me before he cants his hips back, spreading his legs further. I push another finger into him and am rewarded with a deep, rattling moan as I stretch him. His trembling gets worse, and he cries out as I scrape my teeth against the sensitive skin over his shoulder blade.

I twist my fingers inside of him, making his hips buck.

“Dom, please!” he gasps.

Hearing him beg sends a thrill of excitement through me. It’s heady, intoxicating to hear how well I’ve worked him to reduce him to begging. I reach around with my free hand and grab his cock, feeling the focuses spark as he shouts again, jerking back against me. His cock is already leaking, hard and straining under the rings.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask. I twist my fingers again, wringing another gasp out of him.

“Please Dom, please!” He spreads his legs wider, rolling his ass out towards me in offering, and fucking hell if he doesn’t look inviting. I let go of his cock and slide my own out from the slit of my trousers. I keep thrusting with my fingers even as I slick my length.

When I pull my fingers away, I don’t make him wait before I line myself up and push into him. I yank his hips against me as I thrust up to meet him. His tight hole clenches around me as he cries out. At least here, I know what he likes and how much he can take.

I thrust again, hard enough to force him up against the wall. A wicked thought occurs to me. He once made me cum with only the focuses stimulating my cock. I wonder if I can do the same with him.

My hand fists in his long hair, pulling his head back as I fuck him, snapping my hips against his reddened ass. He cries out with each thrust, urging me on with pleas of “more” and “harder.” I oblige, fucking deep into his tight hole. I grab his shoulders for leverage, and his cries of pleasure are like music.

My end almost catches me by surprise. I swear and bite down on his shoulder, sheathing myself deep as my cock empties. I hear the crackle of the focuses as Olbric shouts in need. After all the lashes he’s taken from me, I’m not about to leave him unsatisfied.

I yank his hips back and reach around to stroke his cock. It only takes a few strong pumps to finish him off, and the focuses spark again as he shouts his pleasure. His hips rock against my hand as I milk him for every last drop. When he finishes, he slumps in the ropes, the tension of release fading to a boneless contentment as I pepper kisses over his back and shoulders.

I pull out of him with a groan, hearing him echo me. I step back and tuck my cock away as Olbric gives me a hazy grin over his shoulder. My fingers forget what they’re doing with my laces as my eyes go wide. His back and ass practically glow, and a trail of my seed glistens against his thigh. But his smile - that look of perfect satisfaction is the single sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Fucking hell, Olbric.”

He groans and rests his head against the stone. “Fucking hell yourself,” he murmurs. “Collaring did you good, Dom. That was incredible.”

I’m grinning like an idiot as I start to untie his ropes. Alix comes to help, and I spook like a surprised horse. I’d been so absorbed in Olbric that I had forgotten he was there. Together, we get Olbric loose, and I steady him as his watery legs threaten to fold. I guide him over to the chair just outside of the field of wax flakes and help him sit. I pull the blanket from the basket beside it and use it to cover him.

Once I’m sure he’s settled, I slip the focuses off his softening length. His nose brushes my neck, making me shiver.

“Will you look at that,” I say in disbelief. All four of them are glowing, sparks of red and orange dancing inside the stones. And from the feel of them, they’re strong.

Olbric chuckles and kisses my cheek as he picks one up, rolling it between his fingers. “You did it.”

“Couldn’t have without you,” I point out.

“How’d it feel for you, Dom?” Alix asks.

I run my hand through my hair and turn to face him. It’s a challenge to settle on the right words. It was heady. Empowering as well as humbling. After last night, this was cathartic in a way I never expected. I was able to take control back after Virico tried to rob me of it.

“Pretty fucking incredible,” I say at last. “Thank you for talking me through the nerves.”

Alix gives a half-shrug, his expression carefully neutral. “You just needed a push. You did great.”

“Can confirm,” Olbric murmurs from his chair. There’s a perfect little smile on his lips. “Though I hope you’re going to clean up my casting room.”

I laugh and say, “I will, I promise.” I turn to Alix, but he’s already by the door. I hurry over to him and reach for his arm. “Wait a sec.”

He jumps and yanks his hand away as he spins to face me, a hand clenched around his spell necklace. I freeze, and for a brief second, neither of us seem to know what to do.

He snaps out of it, the fear turning to anger and frustration in the blink of an eye. He swears as he releases his spells to run a hand through his hair.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “Watching... brought up some emotions.”

“No, don’t apologize,” I say, just as quick. “Are you okay?”

Alix looks at me, and a small smile wavers on his lips. “I’ll have to sort through them,” he admits. “But I’m alright, I promise.”

I believe him, but I still ask, “Can I touch you?”

Alix gives a small laugh that sounds like gratitude. “Yes, you can.”

I close my arms around him in a tight embrace. “Thank you. Seriously.”

He sighs against my shoulder, and a bit of the tension leaks out of him. “You’re welcome. I’d monitor again if you’d like.”

I draw back a bit to look at the shorter man. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he says. “This was… good for me to watch from a safe place.”

I offer a small smile. It can’t be an easy road he’s on, but I’m happy to do anything I can to help him down it. “I’d like that.” I tighten my embrace for a second longer before letting him go.

Alix gives a small smile as he grabs the door. “I’ll let you two talk.”

“Thank you again, Alix.”

The door closes behind him, and I turn my attention back to Olbric. He’s gotten himself nice and wrapped up, his loose hair covering one eye as he watches me. He smiles as I approach and scoots to give me some space on the wide chair. I wrap my arms around him as I slide into the spot, pressing my lips against his shoulder.

For a second, we don’t have to say anything. We simply enjoy each other’s company. I’m the one who finally breaks the quiet.

“Was that an acceptable level of hurting?”

Olbric pushes his hair behind his ear. “That was an exceptional level of hurting,” he says. “I feel warm all over.”

“Maybe it’ll finally help those icicles you call hands.”

“Rude.”

Our lips meet without thought, and when we part, we’re both grinning like idiots. I brush a strand of hair behind his ear and say, “Can I ask you something about your collaring?”

Olbric settles in comfortably. “Of course.”

I stroke my fingers through his hair. “Are there any schools you don’t want me touching?”

“No corpimancy,” Olbric says, but that was a given. He’s admitted that he’s never tried corpimancy, and doesn’t seem to have an interest in changing that.

“Easy. Anything else? Conjuration?”

Olbric mulls that over for a long moment. “Conjuration under some conditions.”

“Conditions like?”

“No long-term. A few hours at most, and I get to keep a copy of the key just in case.”

“Noted.”

My gut does a flip of excitement that he’s willing to try it. I’d have thought it would be a hard limit, but I’m happy to be proven wrong. Conjuration has become a favorite of mine, though I sure wouldn’t mind putting a cage on someone else for a change.

“Is there anything in particular you want out of collaring?” I ask.

Olbric seems like he’s thought about this a lot. “I know myself well enough to know that I’m not going to be the obedient, demure kind of conduit,” he admits. “I know I’m going to be a challenge.”

“A challenge?” I repeat, though I can’t help but admit that I like where this is going.

“This is so silly,” Olbric admits and rubs his cheek. “In Cairish, we have these fast little desert cats called nameru that live in the hills by my home. Some of the Shykhdar families would catch them and keep them as pets. They’re notoriously difficult to tame, so of course my father had to have one,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“I watched him try and fail time and time again to gentle this creature, but that cat remained stubborn and hostile until the day I snuck it out and set it free.” His smile turns shy as he says, “I always felt bad for the poor thing, but at the same time, I’ve always sort of… liked the idea of it. Of being tamed.”

I shiver at that and carefully tug on a piece of wax that’s gotten tangled in his hair. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, even as mine spins with possibilities. Seeing Olbric tonight gave me some ideas, so I ask, “How would you feel about me buying you some clothes?”

Olbric raises an eyebrow and looks at me curiously. “I think I’d like that.” I hear the unasked question in his voice.

“This is just the start of an idea,” I admit. “I’ll have to think on it a little more.”

Olbric chuckles. “You know, I’m not usually a patient person. But I’ll do my best for you.”

I smile and pull him into a gentle kiss. “I’ll make sure it’s worth the wait.”

14

ENCHANTMENT PRACTICE

Enchantment is a nuanced school, and one that can be a challenge for some to master. It is a school that allows you to embrace a darker side of yourself, to humiliate and degrade another person for your mutual pleasure.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

Over the next week, Olbric and I talk more, and my idea starts to take on more detail in my head. I check the money I’ve saved from my stipend and hope it’s enough to cover what I’m hoping to do. I won’t know for sure until I can find someone who can actually make what I’ve got in mind.

In the meantime, I keep up with Arlon’s casting challenge. I ask Alix to monitor another attempt at abjuration with Galiva, and he seems happy to agree. The spell is more or less a repeat of the suspension bind I tried to do with her a couple weeks ago, except this time, we get five charged focuses out of it. Galiva’s so thrilled at the end of it, she doesn’t let me get her down for another half an hour.

The next is an enchantment spell with Ambra. She’s predominantly an enchanter, so when I’d asked if she’d be willing to conduit for a novice, she’d been eager to agree. It’s a school that rests solidly out of my comfort zone, but that was Arlon’s challenge, and it’s one I’ll need to get better at if I want to make my idea for Olbric work. I’ve never been much of a talker, and I’ve done enough enchantment to know how big a part it plays.

“How do you even know what to say?” I ask Alix in frustration as we head away from his room.

“It depends on your conduit,” Alix says. “Humiliation can come from a lot of places. Internalized insecurities or shame, cultural expectations we’re not meeting, or even falling short of our own expectations.”

I think back to what’s been effective for me, and something falls into place. “Fucking hell - all of mine comes from Airedale.” Or my da, but I keep that to myself.

“How so?”

“It’s a pretty prudish town,” I say. “When I first got here, I was embarrassed to be in the baths with another person. I thought I had shaken most of it until Arlon stripped me naked in the mess hall and started calling me his fuckboy.”

Alix snorts a laugh and says, “Rest assured, shame around sex and sexuality are by no means uncommon on the mainland. And what we do here is probably enough to make someone from your hometown faint. We internalize that mindset whether we want to or not. Enchantment plays on our internalized shame and turns it into something productive. Personally, I think it’s pretty cathartic. Gives me a chance to feel that shame and work through it in a safe place without judgment.”

“Sure,” I say and run my hand through my hair, “but that still doesn’t help me know what to say.”

Once we’re inside Ambra’s casting room in the enchantment tower, I talk through what I want to do. A simple command spell - lower caliber, but that’s about all I’m comfortable with. It helps that Ambra seems excited about it, and after getting some more input from her and Alix, I feel a little more prepared. All I have to do is give orders, and Ambra will obey them.

“Go ahead and kneel,” I say.

Alix chuckles. “Not direct enough. Give an order, not a request.”

“Fucking hell, right.” The whole godsdamned point of the spell. Ambra grins and twirls a lock of her blond hair around her finger as she watches me, waiting. I run my hand over my cheek and take a breath as I straighten my back.

“Kneel,” I order.

Ambra sinks elegantly to her knees. I make a slow loop around her, taking a second to admire her. She’s stunning. Short and curvy, with full breasts and wide hips that she isn’t afraid to sway as she settles comfortably against the pillow on the floor. She’s still dressed in a flowing skirt and blouse that covers far too much of her.

“Take your shirt off.”

Ambra smirks up at me as she lifts the hem of her blouse and pulls it over her head. Her breasts hang large and heavy without a corset or breast band to keep them contained, but her long blond hair flows over her shoulders, covering them too much. A strand of spells rests nestled between her cleavage.

“Pull your hair back.”

Ambra obeys and gathers her hair back to fully expose her impressive bust. I look down at her and reach out to pinch her left nipple, tugging up gently to feel the weight of her breast. She glances up at me, a smirk lifting one corner of her full lips. Those lips are going to be distracting.

“Eyes down,” I order, and she lowers her gaze demurely.

I come to a stop in front of her. “Slip your skirt off.”

She unties the waistband of her skirt before letting it slip down her hips. She scoots until she can pull it fully off and tosses it aside. I’m glad to see that she’s worn nothing underneath.

“Spread your legs.” Even with her head lowered, I see her bite her bottom lip as she scoots her knees apart. “Wider.” She exposes the pink petals between her legs, and I can’t help but notice she keeps it shaved.

“Smooth as a piglet,” I say and hate it the second it leaves my mouth.

“Oh gods, Dominai,” Ambra snorts, slapping a hand over her mouth as she tries not to laugh. She fails, and I can’t help but laugh with her even as I flush red to the tips of my ears.

“I’m trying!” I say even as I try to rub the heat from my face.

“No - no, I’m sorry, that’s just… not one I’ve heard before,” she says and wipes a tear from her eye. She struggles a second longer to get herself under control, but in that infectious way laughter spreads, Alix gets it next. From the back of the room, he snorts, trying to stifle a laugh and I think in that moment I could probably generate a spell all on my own.

“Not helpful!”

“I’m sorry - sorry,” Alix says and covers his smile with a hand. Ambra takes a steadying breath and looks down again, her lips quivering as she tries not to smile. I try to do the same and run a hand through my hair. Can’t take it back now, so may as well run with it.

“Get on all fours,” I say and put my boot between her shoulder blades to push her there. “No laughing. Piglets only squeal.” She lets out another giggle, but I reach between her legs and grab her cunt roughly. It gets a gasp out of her, and she jerks under my hand. I put my weight into my boot and force her chest down against the ground.

“Keep your ass up,” I order before I pull my boot away. She doesn’t move as I circle behind her. With her ass up and knees apart, her pink slit is exposed. “Spread your cheeks, piglet.”

Ambra keeps her face against the pillow but reaches back to grab the mounds of her ass. She spreads them wide to let me see the pucker of her hole. And I have to admit - piglet’s a fine descriptor. She’s all cream and pink now, but I wonder how dirty I can get her.

I put my hand on the small of her back before I plunge a finger into her slit, testing her. She’s already wet, and it’s only then I notice how quiet she’s gotten as she waits for my next order. I shake off the rest of my embarrassment. Even if it started as a gaffe, it’s apparently doing something to her. And seeing her fully exposed is definitely doing something to me.

“Fuck yourself,” I order. “One finger only.”

That gets a quiet moan out of her, but she does as ordered, sliding one finger through her folds. She thrusts slow, and I shiver as I start to hear the wet sound it makes in the quiet room.

“Good. Don’t stop.”

I leave her to it and go to the cabinet. I pick out a sizable leather phallus before something else catches my eye. There’s all manner of enchantment casting equipment I’m only sort of familiar with, but a small hook attached to a collar catches my attention. I grab it too before I walk back over to her. When I kneel down by her head, her eyes closed in concentration, cheeks flushed pink, her bottom lip held between her teeth.

“Look here, piglet.” She opens her eyes, and I’m glad to see a bit of a glaze behind them. I hold the collar and hook out for her to see. “I’m going to make you look the part.”

Her eyes widen and I grin as I slip the collar around her neck and fasten it. The little hook is attached to it by a leather strip that’s long enough to stretch over her head. I put the blunted ends of the hook into her nostrils before I tighten the leather strap down, tugging her nose up into something like a snout. She lets out a groan, and I smirk as I hold the phallus out to her. “Suck.”

She opens her mouth, and I slide it between her willing lips. I thrust shallow at first before I push it deep. She doesn’t balk, but she does clench her eyes shut in concentration as I tease her throat with it.

“You’re hungry for that cock, aren’t you, piglet?” She doesn’t answer, but I don’t expect one. I gag her on the phallus for a second longer before I pull it away. “Hands on the ground.”

Ambra slides her finger out of her cunt with a groan of disappointment, but I don’t make her wait long before I thrust the wet phallus into her inviting slit. She gasps, hands clenching as she rolls her hips. I fuck her with it for a second before I settle it deep and leave it there.

“Spread your ass again.”

She moans but does as ordered, and I reach into my pocket to grab the glass plug that Olbric loaned me. I slick it well before I tease her ass with it. Ambra gasps at the initial cold shock before she relaxes. I don’t rush her. I push the tip into her, twisting and tilting it before I inch it deeper. Every time I push the plug in further, the phallus tries to inch out. Ambra whimpers as I tease her, toying with each of her holes in turn. Once her ass is ready, I slide the plug in as I push the phallus deep. I’m rewarded with her sharp gasp as they both settle into place.

“Good piglet,” I say before I press the base of the glass plug. She yelps as the focus sealed inside of it comes to life. I know how good those twisting marbles feel, and she waggles her hips, like she’s trying to follow them.

“Close your legs and kneel up.”

Ambra moans but does as told. She kneels, ass resting against her feet to keep the phallus and plug seated deep. The hooks keep her head pulled back, and she watches me as I circle around her. When I run a hand over her shoulder, I’m rewarded with a shiver.

“Not laughing now, huh?” I tease and press a kiss against her cheek.

Ambra gives a breathy laugh. “Nope.”

I slap one of her heavy tits and am rewarded with a surprised squeal.

“Piglets don’t talk.”

She gives a whimper of pleasure, and it’s a thrill to realize she’s eating this up. It makes me wonder how far I can push it with her. I give her breast one more squeeze before I cross to the other side of the room and take a seat in the chair. She watches me with heavily lidded eyes, and she arches as the plug hits a good spot inside of her.

I grin and cross my ankle over my knee. “Come here.” She moves to get up, but I tsk. “Piglets don’t walk, either.”

Her face flushes red as she gets to her knees and crawls across the stone floor towards me. The hooks keep her head up, and her heavy breasts sway with every step. I have to admit she makes a pretty picture as she tries to bite back a moan.

“Don’t let that phallus fall out,” I warn.

She does moan then. Her next step is a little more careful. Even so, the toy is almost out by the time she gets to me. I motion her closer and she crawls to my feet.

“Head down, ass up,” I order.

She rests her cheek against my shoe, and I lean forward to grab the base of the phallus. I twist it before I start to fuck her with it, wringing a shout out of her as I thrust it deep.

Her hands tighten on the leg of my trousers, and I shiver as I watch her squirm, her face flushed with pleasure. “Do you like wallowing on the ground, piglet?” She moans as I thrust the phallus into her, nodding as she nuzzles my leg.

“You know, the pigs in Airedale would eat anything you gave them,” I say. “So let’s see how you like the taste of my boots. Lick them.”

For a second, I think I may have pushed it too far. Ambra shudders, a low moan rattling out of her, but then she kisses the top of my boot before running her tongue over the smooth leather. The sight of her makes my mouth go dry, and for a second, I forget I’m still holding the phallus.

Fucking hell.

It’s only after she finishes cleaning both my boots that I snap out of it. I pull the phallus out of her and toss it aside.

“Up, piglet,” I say and pat my lap, even as I free my cock from my trousers. It gets another moan out of her, but she does as told and straddles me. I grab the plug, which stills under my touch before I draw it out of her. She lets out a whimper of disappointment.

“Hush, piglet,” I say before I reach into my pocket and fish out the string of uncharged focuses. I push them into her hole one at a time until all five are settled inside. She rests her head against my shoulder, shuddering as each ball enters her.

This has gotten me more heated than I could have imagined, but I don’t want to end it quite yet. I wrap my hand through Ambra’s long blond hair and pull her head back to expose her throat. I nip along the tender skin before I murmur, “Ride my cock, piglet.”

Ambra nearly thanks me before she remembers she’s not supposed to talk. Instead, she bites her lip as she lines her slit up with the head of my cock. She sinks onto me, and I groan as the tight heat of her envelopes me.

Her hands rest on my shoulders, using me for leverage as she fucks herself on my length. I lean back and simply enjoy it, my hands resting lightly on her hips.

“Speed up, piglet,” I order.

Ambra obeys with a whimper, thrusting down with renewed vigor. She bounces on my lap, her slick cunt accepting my length with every thrust. I can’t keep myself still any longer as I grab her hips and meet her. She cries out, arching as I start to fuck her hard, savoring the wet heat of her. Her breasts are at the perfect level, and I draw one perky nipple into my mouth and suck.

She arches her chest out towards me, all but smothering me in her ample bosom. I nip gently at the pink nipple before doing the same to the other, making a matching pair.

“Do you like that, piglet?”

She nods as much as the nose hook will let her, only to shout as I give a particularly sharp thrust. I pant as my orgasm builds. Ambra’s legs are having a hard time keeping a rhythm, and she cries out against my neck as she tenses against me.

“Don’t you dare cum, piglet,” I growl. She arches against me with a cry of pleasure, fingers digging into my shoulders. I ramp up faster, thrusting up to meet her, though I’m not going to last much longer, either. My hand fists in her hair as I pull her head back.

“Squeal, piglet.”

Ambra screams as she cums, hips stalling as she spasms around me. I grab the string of focuses and tug, turning her shout into a squeal of pleasure. I thrust into her rippling heat once more before my own end crashes through me. I moan deep as I hold her flush against my lap, rolling my hips as my orgasm courses out of me. The last glowing focus pulls free, and I groan as Ambra slumps bonelessly against me.

I can’t stop a small laugh. “Godsdamn, I did make you squeal.”

Alix joins us when I take Ambra down to the baths. The three of us go to my favorite pool in the back, and I give Ambra the same aftercare routine that I do for evocation. Though other than a couple of scrapes on her knees from the stone, there’s little to tend to. Instead, I just bathe the floor dirt off of her while Alix reclines comfortably in the pool next to us.

“That was a clever turnabout you did,” Alix says. “Getting your conduit into a headspace for enchantment can be tricky - especially when you start out laughing your ass off. But you managed to take a mistake and turn it into something effective.”

“Very effective,” Ambra groans as I massage soap into her hair.

I lean Ambra back to wash the soap out, stroking my fingers through her golden blond locks gently. “I was afraid I’d pushed it too far.”

Ambra opens her eyes to look up at me. “Dom, Arlon tied me up in the toilet and told everyone to use me as a urinal for my enchantment mastery.”

I flush red to the tips of my ears and mutter a faint, “Oh.”

Alix chuckles and says, “You have a whole world to delve into with mastery level spells. But for where you’re at, today was a good start. You should be proud.”

My blush doesn’t go away. “Thanks.” I grab the cleaned string of focuses from the lip of the pool and string two of them onto Ambra’s necklace before doing the same to mine, saving the odd focus out to add to the Crux’s supply.

“So… I have an idea for an enchantment spell I want to do with Olbric,” I say. “But I wanted to get your opinions on it.”

I tell them what I’m planning, and Ambra gives an excited little squeal. “I have some stuff you can use,” she says. “There’s also a seamstress in town who can make something for you, though she’s not cheap.”

I smile at her eagerness, though I sure do like the idea of having something made. The more I think about it, the harder it gets to settle on just one idea. “When you go to cast it, let me know if you want me to monitor,” Alix says with a wink. “You’re a fun caster to watch.”

“You don’t have to just watch,” I point out. “I’d be happy to cast with you too, if you want.”

I’m immediately afraid I’ve said something wrong. After all he’s been through, the last thing I want is to put pressure on the wizard. Alix gives me an appraising look before he lets out a small sigh, sinking further into the pool.

“Maybe,” he says, and it’s the kind of maybe that doesn’t sound like a no, either.

15

AFTERNOON TEA

In a way, transmutation and enchantment are sister schools. There is sometimes an overlap with the casting materials, but the key to getting the effect you want out of the finished spell has to do with your conduit.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

Itake a day off to go into town, my purse filled with every coin I’ve saved from my stipend. I wait for Galiva and walk with her towards the clinic even as I tell her the plan for the enchantment spell I want to cast with Olbric. After talking with Ambra and Alix, it’s starting to take a more solid shape.

“Olbric is going to freak out,” she says and beams at me.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” We’ve talked about what he wants from his collaring, and though my idea falls outside of what he’s explicitly requested, I think it still checks enough boxes that he’ll enjoy it.

“He’s going to love it,” Galiva promises. “Once it’s ready, let me know. I’ll be happy to help.”

“You’re the best, Gal.”

The seamstress Ambra recommended is a kind older woman who doesn’t even bat an eye when I tell her what I want made. “Give me a couple of weeks, and I’ll have it ready for you. I’ll handle the arrangements with the jeweler as well.”

I leave the shop with an empty purse and a smile I can’t get rid of. It’s only when I’m halfway out of the bustling market that I realize the nerves that normally follow me into the city are absent. It’s a busy day, but the activity has passed me by instead of overwhelming me like it normally does. It feels like an accomplishment, and my smile lasts the whole trip back to the Crux.

The next day is my casting date with Cancassi, and they ask if I’d be willing to try another mastery level spell.

“Olbric is getting closer to petitioning for transmutation mastery, but there’s still a fundamental principle of the school he’s missing,” Cancassi says. “I think I have a spell in mind that will make it clear to him.”

“Gods, yes please,” I say. As much as I’ve enjoyed casting this week, I’m more than ready to conduit again. “At the beginning of the week, I thought you said you wanted to do enchantment with me?”

Cancassi’s grin is sly. “We’ll see how the spell turns out. It could go either way. Are you comfortable conduiting in front of a small group of friends?”

I raise an eyebrow at that. “I’m fine with it.”

The Maeve beams at me but doesn’t tell me anything more as they lead me through the halls. I’m expecting us to go to one of the first floor casting rooms, but instead, they lead me to the library that’s on the main floor of the Crux, just a few doors down from Arlon’s office. It stretches up two full stories into the magiline tower, and is full of tall shelves, heavy with books.

Since it’s gotten too cold to enjoy the courtyards, folks have chosen this as their relaxing spot during their downtime. Quiet talk and laughter murmurs from the alcoves we pass, a couple of fires crackling from grates cut right into the magiline.

We reach one of the alcoves in the back and find Olbric waiting for us, but he’s not alone. Galiva’s reading a book while Margeurite and Alix talk quietly.

“This looks like a setup,” I say.

Cancassi chuckles. “It’s only enchantment if you make it.”

The alcove is lit by another cracking fire surrounded by comfortable chairs and couches. Someone’s even brought a tea set that rests on a tray atop the end table. There are even some snacks - little sandwiches and tarts laid out on small plates.

“We’re having tea?”

Cancassi beams at me. “We’re having tea.”

I smile as I rub the blush from my face. Olbric winks at me from his seat on the couch as Galiva shuts her book and leans back to watch me.

“Alright,” I relent. “What do you want me to do?”

“Disrobe, please.”

I do as asked, and Cancassi holds out an arm for me to drape my things over. My trousers come off last, and I’m glad for the fire keeping the alcove warm.

“On all fours, please,” Cancassi says and points to the comfortable rug in front of the fire.

I glance at the assembled group curiously. None of them have said a word to me except Cancassi, and I’m getting the idea it’s intentional. I try to puzzle out what spell Cancassi’s trying to cast even as I sink to my hands and knees.

The warmth of the fire is like a gentle hand against my skin, and I let out a contented sigh. Something clanks gently before the cold metal of the tea tray is on my back. I don’t quite stop a flinch of surprise, and the tray clatters.

“Careful,” Cancassi says. “Tables are supposed to be stable.”

I give a small laugh, which makes the tray shake again. “Oh, is that what I am?” I shift and flatten my back out as best as I can to give the tray a good place to rest.

“They’re also not supposed to talk,” Cancassi says. I blink as a ball gag is held in front of me. I open my mouth to let them settle it in before they tighten it around my head. I can barely get my teeth around it, and it stretches my mouth wide. A cloth blindfold is tied over my eyes next, and I can’t stop a quiet groan.

Cancassi circles around me before something cold brushes my ass. A slick focus is pressed into me, and I have to concentrate on staying still. A string of five more follow it until I’m deliciously full, my nerves alight. I moan, a trail of spit making its way out from around the gag.

The others seem content to ignore me as Cancassi gets me settled. Their conversation continues like I never even interrupted it. A bit of weight is lifted off my back before I hear the sound of pouring tea.

“How’s the clinic been, Gal?” Olbric asks, and there’s a clink of glassware as the tea is handed out.

“Tiring,” Galiva says. “I don’t know how Garrett does it. It’s just him and two non-magical physicians that manage it. I think we’ll all be relieved when he’s back.”

“When is he expected?” Margeurite asks.

“Any day now, thank gods,” Galiva says. “It’s been enlightening, but I’m ready for a break from corpimancy and the clinic. Today’s the first full day off I’ve had in weeks.”

“How many holes you got in you?” Olbric teases.

Galiva laughs. “None of your business!”

Someone’s foot brushes up between my legs. I flinch in surprise, making the tray clatter. The touch is brief but lingers long enough that I know it was intentional. I settle again and let out a long breath, but the conversation doesn’t so much as pause.

“What about you, Olbric?” Alix asks. “Do you think you’re close to petitioning?”

Olbric groans. “Gods, I don’t know. Transmutation is more finicky than I realized when I went into it.”

“How so?”

“Half the time, I end up with a half-crafted and useless enchantment,” Olbric says. “Which Cancassi said they were going to help with today, though this has been too distracting to be educational.”

“In time,” Cancassi says, and I hear the amusement in their voice. “Enjoy your tea first.”

“Did the kitchens do all this?” Margeurite asks.

“They were kind enough to provide the food and tea set,” Cancassi says, “But the tea is some I brought from home.”

“It’s lovely,” Margeurite says, and I’m a bit jealous. Apparently tables don’t get to try Cancassi’s special tea.

Even though the rug is soft, my knees are already starting to hurt. The strain of holding my back straight is making my stomach muscles ache. I finally have to shift my hands, and though I do my best to be careful, the tray rattles before something crashes as it falls over.

“Ah, there it is. He lasted longer than I expected,” Cancassi says, and I hear them set their cup down. They get to their feet with a groan. “Now, since our table is getting tired, there are a couple of things we can do. We could admonish or punish our table into shaping up.” I flush hot red at that. “Or, we can treat our table like a table, and fix the problem ourselves.”

The tray is lifted off my back. Something is dragged across the floor before Cancassi pulls me from my kneel. It’s brief, and I’m quickly bent over an actual table. It’s short enough that I’m kept on my knees and small enough that I can fully bend over it, my chest resting against the flat surface. Cancassi straps my wrists to the wooden legs with small leather belts before doing the same to my thighs. One final strap holds my chest flat against the wooden top, immobilizing me.

The focuses inside of me spark as they start to charge, and I jerk in surprise. I moan as another drop of spit escapes from around the gag. It’s a relief to sink against the table and let my head hang. At least I don’t have to worry about keeping myself up anymore.

“One method will get you an enchantment, while the other will get you transmutation,” Cancassi says. The tray is settled on my back once more, and I groan quietly. Cancassi sits with a sigh, and I feel them lift up their cup from the tray. “And the reason for that has to do with your conduit’s headspace.”

A hand brushes over my ass and gives the string of focuses a tug, though not enough to pull one out. “We all know the type of conduit that Dominai is,” Cancassi continues. “Sometimes, you have to do a little work with a conduit to get them into the swing of a spell, but not so much with Dom. He falls into a headspace quickly, and he falls into it hard. So when you’re using him to cast transmutation, you as the caster have to be sure you’re putting him in the correct headspace. Your method of casting is what determines the type of headspace he falls into, and therefore, the manner of spell you both create.”

Talking about me like I’m a case study is proving pretty damn effective, too. I groan quietly and test the straps, but Cancassi’s trapped me good. Even though no one’s so much as touched it, my cock is already throbbing, hanging red and leaking just off the edge of the table.

“Both enchantment and transmutation require you to objectify your conduit to an extent,” Cancassi says. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Alix, but enchantment usually skews towards sexual objectification, whereas transmutation involves taking your conduit and actually using them as an object. Enchantment maintains just enough of the conduit’s personhood to sexualize, whereas transmutation strips them of it entirely.”

“I’d say that’s a correct assessment,” Alix says.

Boots rest against my shoulders, and I shiver, making the tray clank gently. While this is more comfortable than being made to kneel, the straps and Cancassi’s lecture are doing nothing to help keep my arousal under control. And if I truly am just a table for today, I doubt I’ll get an orgasm from this spell. The thought wrings a tormented moan out of me as the focuses spark again. They seem to be charging just fine without.

Olbric hums thoughtfully, and it must be his foot that comes up to rest against my ass. “So what you’re saying is I’m mixing casting methods.”

“Exactly,” Cancassi says.

“Damn, I didn’t even notice.”

Cancassi chuckles. “Neither did I until the last spell we tried. With how absorbed I’ve been studying enchantment, I thought I was skewing to that headspace automatically. Then I realized you weren’t helping me by praising my cock like you were.”

“Well excuse me for being polite,” Olbric shoots back, and I let out a snort of a laugh that Galiva and Alix echo.

“It’s a difficult habit to break,” Alix says. “I got my enchantment mastery first, so when I started trying for transmutation, I was making the same mistake. It’s a subtle difference between enchantment and transmutation, but it can have a noticeable effect on your conduit and your spells.”

“God, I don’t have my mastery in either, and I’m still having the problem,” Olbric mutters.

“You sure do like talking to your conduits,” Galiva points out. “I was honestly surprised when you said you were going to try for transmutation over enchantment.”

“Well sure, casting enchantment is no problem,” Olbric says. “Conduiting is the hard part. Maybe I’m just shameless. Nothing phases me.”

Alix hums. “I doubt that.”

If I wasn’t gagged, I’d grin. That’s a theory I’m looking forward to testing.

“But we’ve been pretty clear with our casting for this spell, so we’ll just have to see what comes of it,” Cancassi says brightly.

Someone tugs at the string of focuses, and I gasp in surprise. One of them is pulled out, making pleasure spark through me before the marble is pushed back in. It’s a teasing sensation, nowhere near strong enough to do anything but torment me.

I squirm, making the tray shift dangerously. Cancassi just tsks and rights it. They tighten the strap around my chest before adding two more, one over my shoulders and one over my lower back. I’m pressed flat against the table, so tight that drawing in a full breath is a challenge.

Olbric chuckles. “This is a very unstable table, Cass.”

I can hear the smile in Cancassi’s voice as they say, “Don’t worry. He’ll accept his position soon enough.”

I whimper around my gag but am ignored as the conversation meanders to other things. Margeurite gives an update on the search for Diran, which I can only half pay attention to in my current state. I gather that her, Galiva, and Allisande are working on targeting Isa. It sounds like they’ve had some luck, though not enough to pinpoint her location yet.

“It feels like we’re getting closer though,” Galiva says. “The last vision I had proved that her and Diran are still working together.”

That snaps through my haze. I didn’t know we’d gotten Sight of him. None of my attempts had gotten anything more than his voice, though it was always too garbled to make out anything he said.

“Your focus has gotten so much better,” Margeurite says.

Galiva sounds pleased when she says, “Thank you.”

The feeling of the marbles filling me makes it hard to concentrate, and for some time I lose track of the conversation entirely. Tea is refreshed, snacks are finished, and the contents of the tray rattle as I tremble helplessly. I’m not sure how long I’m there, but it takes me a second to register that the conversation has turned back to me.

“- seems like our table has finally calmed down,” Olbric says.

Cancassi’s long fingers stroke through my hair and pull my head up. “He’s fallen into it quite nicely. I think after all this, we’ve gotten a good stabilizing spell out of him.”

“Would have been useful when the ceiling of the cave was trying to crash down on us,” Galiva murmurs.

“Hindsight comes with perfect clarity,” Cancassi replies.

“Do you think we should finish it?” Olbric asks, and I shiver.

“The spell is already cast, but we could certainly help poor Dominai out,” Cancassi says.

“We should get going,” Margeurite says, and I hear her get to her feet. “Galiva and I have another casting scheduled with Allis, so we’ll leave you all to it.”

Galiva’s lips press against my cheek. “Thanks for the tea, Dom.”

I groan quietly as Cancassi lets my head fall again. Hands stroke down my back and ass before someone grabs the string of focuses and gives it a tug. I let out a whimper of desire as I strain against the straps. It’s a relief just to be acknowledged after a whole afternoon of being ignored.

And Olbric and Cancassi seem intent to lavish on the attention now. The focuses are pulled from me, and I shout, each one lighting my nerves on fire as they’re dragged out of me.

“You were right, Cass,” Olbric says. “He managed to charge all of them, and we’ve barely touched him.”

“Intercourse and orgasm aren’t required for a spell to be successful,” Alix points out. “I’m living proof of that.”

“No, I know,” Olbric says. “I am just… not that wizard. I have to orgasm if I want to charge more than two.”

“We know,” Cancassi teases even as they loosen the gag from around my head before lifting the blindfold off. I moan as I stretch my jaw out. “Are you alright, Dom?”

Casting with Cancassi has a way of stealing my voice, so I just nod before letting my head fall down.

Olbric kisses the small of my back. “You want to stay and watch?”

“Sure,” Alix says. “Watching him conduit is as fun as watching him cast. You really weren’t joking about him falling into it.”

Cancassi’s grin floats into view in front of me. They cup my cheek to get a good look at my face. “He really is wonderful to cast with. Thanks for your help today, Dom,” they say before kissing me gently. I shiver and return it, a little mewl of need escaping me.

When they pull away, I finally find my voice and say, “Just… fucking hell, don’t leave me hanging like this.”

Cancassi chuckles and strokes my cheek. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Behind me, Olbric spreads my cheeks before I feel the familiar prod of his cock. I strain against the straps, but I can’t even push back. It’s enough to drive me mad.

“Seems strange to fuck a table,” Olbric teases.

“I swear to my gods and yours, Olbric.”

“To do what?” he says slyly. “Doesn’t seem like you’re in much of a position to be making threats.”

I whimper and wag my hips as much as I can. “Fucking hell Olbric, please.”

Olbric laughs and says, “You know I can’t say no when you beg like that.” His weight presses against my back, his hands grabbing my hips before he thrusts his slicked cock into me. I shout at the rough stretch of him, and Olbric tsks. “Keep it down. We’re in the library.”

“And that is exactly why you’re having a problem casting transmutation,” Alix chuckles.

“Worth it,” Olbric groans as he gives a leisurely thrust.

Cancassi lifts me up by my hair before thrusting into my mouth, gagging my retort. I whimper around them as Olbric sets a fast pace, his hand reaching down to wrap around my cock. I work my tongue over Cancassi’s length as they slide deep, taking it without complaint. Thanks to Arlon’s conditioning, I don’t think there’s much my throat can’t handle anymore.

I lose myself between them, gladly submitting to the thorough fucking as I let my gratitude be known. I squirm as much as I’m able, garbled sounds of pleasure making their way around Cancassi’s cock as they thrust deep into my willing mouth.

Olbric’s length drags across that spot inside me with every thrust, lighting my nerves on fire in the best kind of way. Maybe it’s because I’ve been casting all week, but an internal orgasm starts to build. Being gagged on Cancassi’s cock doesn’t let me give a warning as a couple more thrusts set me off. I tense, screaming around Cancassi as my orgasm rocks out of me, my cock catching up quick as I cum hard.

Cancassi swears and holds my head flush to their navel to muffle me even as they follow me into bliss. The sweet taste of their seed fills my mouth, and I swallow everything they give me as Olbric speeds up. He groans as he works his cock into me, prolonging my pleasure and wringing another scream out of me.

Olbric’s pace falters and stutters to a stop, his fingers digging into my hips as he cums with a low moan. His forehead rests against my back as he swears appreciatively. I slump, limp against the table, spent and exhausted. For a second, none of us move, just basking in the afterglow. Cancassi finally pulls their softening length from my mouth.

I blink and see Nellie, the non-magical custodian of the library, round the corner. She stops abruptly, flushing red at the sight of us, though whether it’s from anger or embarrassment I can’t say.

“This is a library!” she hisses. “Be quiet or take it elsewhere!”

16

STRESS RELIEF

Corpimancy is a school that is often misunderstood, even by wizards. Old superstitions link any form of blood magic to necromancy, and though this is patently untrue, the notion persists.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

*Please note this chapter contains overpowering, rough sex, needle play, and urethral sounding.

Monday morning finds me back in Arlon’s office with my collar on, and I can tell he’s in a mood the second I walk in. And not a good one, either. He watches me, his face neutral as I pull my little stack of spell notes from my pocket and put them on his desk.

“Strip,” he orders before returning his attention to the missives on his desk.

I go to the corner and do as I’m told, but I keep an eye on him. He looks tired. There are shadows under his eyes as he glares at the paper in his hands through his spectacles. I stack my clothes in a neat pile on the chair in the corner before I kneel next to him. He sighs as he puts a hand on my head, toying with my hair.

I want to ask what’s wrong, but I get the feeling he’s not open to talking yet. Besides, he hasn’t given me permission. Instead, I lean into his touch and turn my face up to kiss his palm. His lips quirk into something like a smile, and some of the tension eases from his shoulders.

“Go fetch breakfast,” he says. “And be sure to grab me a cup of kaffa.”

I kiss his palm again. “Yes, sir.”

The halls are chilly, but I brave them all the same. At least the sun’s out today, the light shining in through the windows, but the draft still invites gooseflesh over my bare skin.

Even after a couple of weeks of this, folks still give me sly looks as I walk into the mess hall. It never fails to make my ears hot, but I can’t blame them for staring. I do the same when I see someone else being paraded around in the halls.

I ate when I first got up, so I only get enough for Arlon. I fill a bowl with hot oats and sprinkle on a bit of sugar before topping it with dried fruit and nuts. I forgot to ask Arlon what he puts in the bitter black kaffa to make it drinkable, so I grab a bit of sugar and cream to bring with me. I turn to go and run straight into Thaddius, sending everything toppling. My carefully gathered bowls clatter against the floor, some of it splattering against my bare legs.

“Oh hell, I’m sorry, Dom,” he says, though something in his tone makes me wonder how sorry he actually is. Even so, he runs to get a few rags from the kitchens before helping me clean up. Maybe I’m imagining it, but as we clear the mess off the floor and myself, his grin seems to rest on the edge of malicious. I frown and shake it off before I quickly gather another helping.

I hurry back to Arlon’s office, trying not to spill any of the hot drink over my hand. When I walk in, he raises an eyebrow curiously. “You were gone for some time.” I flush as I kneel and offer his breakfast to him. He takes it and his expression softens a bit when he sees the cream and sugar I brought. He adds a bit of both. “What took you?”

“Ran into Thaddius, sir. It was an accident,” I say, though I’m still not so sure. We’ve cast a couple of times, but he has his own circle with Iona and Ambra. I can’t imagine what I could have done to get on his bad side.

“Hmm, wasting food. And you’ve heard how expensive it is to run the Crux,” Arlon says, though at least there’s that playful tilt to his voice now. “I’ll remember that for later.”

“Yes, sir.” Even if it means getting my ass beat, I’m glad he at least sounds like himself. I let him enjoy his breakfast in silence and rest my cheek against his leg. He seems to appreciate it as he leans back in his chair, sipping from his mug as he idly strokes his fingers through my hair.

I wait a few long moments before I look up at him, resting my chin on his thigh. I raise an eyebrow.

Arlon meets my gaze and gives a huff of a laugh. “So it’s that obvious?” He sighs and adds, “It’s been a long morning.”

He still hasn’t given me permission to talk, so I just give him my attention. He takes another sip from his mug.

“The execution will be public,” Arlon says. “Lucien and Jaret will hang tomorrow.” He shakes his head and sets his mug down on his desk, “I’m not sorry to see them go. I just wish Thermilious had kept his word and made it quiet. Executing wizards in the town square sets a bad precedent.”

Fuck, I hadn’t even thought of that. I’ve seen how folks outside of the Crux view the ones inside of it. No matter how bad Jaret and Lucien’s actions were, they’re still wizards, and their actions cast a shadow over all of us.

“He says he wants to send a message to Diran. Thinks this will scare him away,” Arlon says. “I personally think it’s only going to piss him off.”

His fingers drum down the side of his mug. “And if that wasn’t enough, Garrett was supposed to be back yesterday.” A thread of fear laces up my spine, and it’s like Arlon can feel it. He strokes my hair gently. “He’s more than capable of taking care of himself. With how wet it’s been, I bet the roads are a nightmare. I’m sure I’m worrying about nothing.” He leans back in his chair and gives a huff of a laugh. “Seems to be all I do anymore.”

I turn my head to kiss the palm of his hand before I bow. “Speak freely.”

“Are you going to tell the Crux about the execution?” I ask. His hand stills on my head, and I continue quickly. “I-I don’t know, but if I had been in the cave, I might want to be there.”

Arlon lets out a long sigh and his hand starts again. “No, you’re right,” he says at last. “I was hoping to protect them, but I might be denying someone closure. I’ll make the announcement tonight at dinner.”

He falls quiet again, losing himself in his thoughts for a few long minutes. He finishes his cup and sets it on his desk. “I’m glad you’re here today. I need to release some frustration.”

I shiver, remembering that last time he used me to vent his frustrations, I got so lost in the spell that he stopped. We still haven’t figured out what the enchantment he cast does, but it’s strong… whatever it is.

But I trust Arlon and, well, I’m not afraid of him taking me deep. “I belong to you today, sir.”

For the first time today, Arlon smiles. “Damn right.”

Arlon takes me to the dungeon but leads me to the corner opposite the bed. As the globes light up, I see the thick mat set into the floor that I’ve never noticed before. He takes his robe off before doing the same with his shirt.

“Today, I want you to spar with me, Dominai.”

I freeze, looking at him with wide eyes. “What?”

Arlon’s grin makes my stomach twist with anticipation, and I can tell he’s just made note of my slip in addressing him.

“You heard me. I want you to try and fend me off. And know that if you fail, I will pin you down and fuck you right here against this mat.” He pushes his trousers and underwear off, letting them fall to the ground.

I swear quietly as I look him over. Arlon is a full head taller and has at least four stone on me, most of that muscle, but I’ve got speed and flexibility on my side. When Arlon made me a target, I almost managed to squirm out of his grip when he ambushed me. Maybe facing him head on, I’ll have a better chance of getting away.

“As you wish, sir,” I say, excited by the challenge.

Arlon steps onto the mat, motioning for me to do the same. We square off on opposite ends.

“You cannot leave the mat. No strikes to the head or neck. Try not to aim for testicles, though accidents do happen,” he says. “We go until one of us is pinned for a three count.”

Ah fuck, well there goes my chance. I can probably get away from him, but there’s no way I’ll pin him. Nothing to do but try though. Maybe I’ll get lucky. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon’s grin widens. “Begin.”

We start off slow. Cautious. I stay on the very edge of the mat, circling opposite of him. He doesn’t seem in a hurry though. Walking in step with me, his eyes never leave mine.

I’m too busy watching his face to notice his feet abruptly lunge towards me. His expression gives nothing away, and he moves like a man a decade younger as he snatches for me. I barely avoid him, darting to the side. He grabs for me again and catches my arm, but I manage to twist out of it.

All the while he’s smiling at me, almost indulgent. Like a cat playing with a mouse. Then my foot hits cold stone. He’s backed me into a corner.

“Every time you step off the mat, I’ll add to the punishment you’re going to get later,” he warns.

Fuck, gotta stay on the mat then. I keep my eyes on him before I feint left and duck under his right arm as he grabs for me. I roll across the mat and safely away from him before I pop back to my feet. I flash a smile as I circle opposite him once more.

“Gods, I forgot how slippery you are.”

I’m hopped up on adrenaline and roll my neck out. “Maybe you’re just getting slower,” I say. Then realize who I’ve said it to.

Arlon doesn’t seem mad. Instead, his grin takes on a feral edge. “You’re begging for a punishment, aren’t you?”

I smirk. Ah, fuck it. I’m in it deep already. “Gotta catch me first.”

That lights a fire under his ass. He lunges again, going low this time, and I’m a second too late dodging him. He catches me around my waist, and his momentum almost topples us both to the mat. I try to drop out of his grip, but he anticipates it and adjusts his hold on me. One of his legs snakes through mine, and I can’t stop a yelp of surprise as he trips me.

I go down quick under him, and he straddles my waist, putting his full weight on me. He grabs my arms to go for a pin, but I fold up like a pill bug before exploding up with all my strength. I surprise him just enough that he loses his balance on my hips.

I try and scrabble away, but I only end up pinned on my stomach as he throws himself on top of me again. I grunt, the air forced from my lungs as he straddles my back. Ah damn it, definitely over now.

He leans forward and pins my shoulders as his hand tightens on the back of my head. “One,” he counts. I try to push up and dislodge him, but I don’t have the strength to get my arms under me. “Two,” he purrs as he forces my head towards the mat. “Three.”

I slump, cheek pressed firm to the woven mat as I pant for breath. But Arlon doesn’t seem intent to wait. He grips my collar, using it like a handle to keep me pinned. He kicks my legs apart, and he doesn’t do anything to prepare me save for slicking his own cock with some lotion from his discarded trousers before he roughly enters me.

I shout and try to pull away on instinct, but Arlon keeps me pinned by the neck. He adjusts his angle and thrusts in again. I clench my eyes shut even as the fight goes out of me. I relax as best as I can and accept the rough stretch. He seems to feel me submit because only then does he start to fuck me in earnest.

I thought I had been taken rough by Arlon before, but this feels like he’s intent on splitting me open. Adrenaline surges through me, and I grunt as every rough snap of his hips drives his cock into me. With nothing but the mat underneath, I have nowhere to go, and I take the full length of him with each punishing thrust.

My own cock is trapped underneath me but even the rough friction of the mat does something to it. My cock swells as he pounds over that spot inside of me, wringing a primal shout out of me. He warned me what would happen if I lost, and he’s certainly making good on his promise. This is a far cry from the controlled Grandmaster I’m used to, but fucking hell if it’s not making my head swim, my pulse roar in my ears.

I grit my teeth and accept the rough treatment as he uses me for his pleasure. Arlon’s low growl makes the hair on my neck stand on end before he kicks my legs apart and pulls me onto my knees. He keeps my head pinned as he impales me deeper. Pleasure races up my spine, the angle sending him over that spot.

He doesn’t seem intent to drag it out, but finishing me off doesn’t appear to be on his mind either. He fucks me fast and hard, though his fingers never so much as brush my cock. I’m raw by the time he buries himself deep. He moans, a sound of pure relief and release as he fills me. By degrees, he relaxes his grip and leans down to press a kiss to the back of my neck.

“Good boy,” he pants.

I flush at the simple praise only to whimper as he pulls out. My sore hole twitches at the loss even as my cock throbs with need. Arlon doesn’t seem intent to give me an orgasm, and it’s not my place to ask for it, either.

I glance over to see Arlon sit up, the tension gone from his face and body. The difference it makes is shocking. I knew he’d been stressed, but I hadn’t realized just how much until now. I can’t stop a small smile as I watch him stretch, eyes closed, an idle grin playing over his face.

He needed this, and I’m glad I was able to provide it.

Arlon is noticeably more relaxed as the day goes on. Though being more at ease doesn’t mean he lets my punishment for spilling food or being cheeky with him slide. I’m not allowed to clean up, and his seed leaks out to trail down my thigh as we head up out of the dungeon. But the real punishment doesn’t come until he takes his seat behind his desk.

He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a small bag. I frown when he upends it, pouring its contents onto the floor by his desk. It takes me a second to recognize that it’s rice.

“Whenever rice is dropped, I make sure the cooks collect it and give it to me,” he says. “So, as punishment for your tongue and for wasting food, you will kneel on it with your hands behind your neck until my meeting with Farlan and Paulette is over.”

I look at the spread of rice, wondering how bad it could be. Five minutes into the meeting, I start to get the idea. Each little grain feels like a pebble digging into the skin of my knees. It’s a test of control and endurance to stay kneeling when there’s nothing but Arlon’s command keeping me there. And I get the feeling that’s the point. I keep my fingers tight through the rings on my collar so I’m not tempted to use my hands to push myself off the bed of rice.

Even though I’m sure they see me, Farlan and Paulette ignore me as the two of them and Arlon go through their normal meeting items before Arlon moves onto the topic of extra security. Over the sound of my own shuddering breath, I hear that the side gates to the different courtyards are to be closed for the winter, the small drawbridges pulled up. During the day, the bridges from the anterior and posterior courtyards will stay down, but there will be someone watching the gates for anyone who would cross them.

“Is there a reason we’re tightening security?” Paulette asks.

Arlon sighs. “Just a precaution. I’ll be making an announcement tonight about the execution of Jaret Voss and Lucien Carter.”

“Ah,” Paulette says. “Understood, Grandmaster. We’ll make sure the only ways in are through the front or back gates.”

“You can draw a guard rotation from the active list,” Arlon says. “Be sure Olbric’s included. He’s not officially on the active list, but it’ll do him good to return to some structure.”

A quiet whimper escapes me, tears stinging at the corner of my eyes as Farlan and Paulette leave. Arlon strokes a hand through my hair before he helps me up. My legs fail to support me, but Arlon pulls me onto his lap and holds me close as he gently picks the rice from where they’ve sunk into my skin. He kisses my neck and shoulders, murmuring quiet praise into my ear.

As the pain fades, so does my shaking. Arlon tilts my head back to meet his eyes. “Are you alright, Dominai?”

I blink hazily up at him. Talk about an effective punishment. All snappy responses have been silenced. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He kisses my head again before helping me to my feet. This time, my legs hold me. “Go grab us lunch.”

No one runs into me this time, but there are more looks as folks spot the telltale glisten on my thighs and the red marks on my knees. I catch sight of Thaddius, and see him smirk before he turns to say something to Iona. I hurry back to Arlon’s office to find Galiva seated across from him.

She grins as I walk past but otherwise ignores me. “How much longer do you think they’ll need me?”

I kneel to offer Arlon his lunch and he takes the tray from me without pausing his conversation. “Hopefully only a couple more days,” he says. “I’m sure Garrett is just running behind on the roads. We’ll give him a couple of days to rest once he’s home - if he’ll take them, that is.”

“I can pick up a few more shifts. I already agreed to do the afternoon shift today,” she says. “Though once Garret’s back, I think I’d like a break from corpimancy for a while.”

“Consider it done.” He puts a hand on the small stack of spell notes on his desk. “I’ll see what I can do about these in the meantime. I’m grateful for your help, and I know Garrett is as well.”

Galiva gives a half shrug. “I’m happy to do it. The clinic is important. It reminds people of the good that magic can do.”

Arlon nods in agreement even as he offers me a dried blueberry. I take it from between his fingers with my teeth as he says, “We can use all of the good exposure we can get, I think. Besides, I know you’re doing good work. People will remember that.”

Galiva ducks her head, looking pleased. “Thank you.” She pauses for a beat before adding, “I think I’m about ready to petition for my divination mastery.”

Arlon beams at her, and it makes me smile to hear her say it. “I’m glad. I think you’re more than ready. Your divining of Alix was enough to get you halfway there, so you only need to cast with me. Just let me know, and we’ll set a day.”

“Thank you, sir,” she says as she gets to her feet. “I’ll report back to the clinic for the rest of this week.”

“Thank you, Galiva.”

She closes the door behind her as Arlon offers me a bit of cured meat wrapped around some cheese. I eat lunch from his hand and try to gauge his mood. He seems calmer now, content as he eats his lunch and feeds me mine.

Once he’s finished, he picks up the small stack of notes Galiva left behind. “She’s getting overwhelmed with the demand of the clinic. So I would like to use you to get her the spells she needs.”

I swallow and take the notes from Arlon. There’s a request for a number of mending spells for broken bones with the words ‘cart accident’ scribbled next to them. On top of that, she’s asking for something called ‘natural support’ which I’ve never heard of before.

“Sir, I’ve only conduited for corpimancy once before,” I say, a little nervous.

Arlon’s hand strokes my hair. “I won’t force you to do this,” he says. “I know corpimancy was a soft limit for you.”

I flip through the notes again and ask, “A spell for broken bones I’ve done before, but what’s this one?” I hand the ‘natural support’ up to him.

“That is the spell that earned Galiva her corpimancy mastery,” Arlon says. “She found a way to stimulate the body’s natural response to illnesses to better fight it off. It is… interesting to conduit for. It’s actually a mixture of corpimancy with a diluted version of conjuration.”

That’s a combination I haven’t heard before, but after a morning of being Arlon’s plaything, at least conjuration means I’ll get an orgasm out of it. “Sounds… interesting,” I say. “I’m willing to try it, sir.”

Arlon hooks a finger around a ring on my collar and pulls me close. His breath brushes against my ear as he murmurs, “Good. Go clean up.”

I hurry to the baths to rinse before Arlon takes me down to the dungeon again. He turns the globes to a high glow, chasing the murk from the large room. I follow him across the room to where a wooden X-cross leans against the wall.

He backs me up to it, pressing his chest against mine to pin me lightly. His close proximity makes my head swim, and I can’t help but lean forward to nuzzle against his chest. He smiles as he takes my left wrist and straps it to one wooden arm before he does the same to my right. Another set of leather belts wrap just under my elbow to immobilize my arms. Two more straps go on each of my legs, around my ankle and over my thigh. A last one wraps around my waist, leaving me pinned and splayed against the cross. I shiver with anticipation as Arlon goes to his cabinet of supplies.

“Conduit’s choice,” he says as he pulls out two small leather cases and a bottle of alcohol. “The familiar or unfamiliar first?”

I try to stamp down my nerves. “The familiar first, sir. Please,” I say, finding the politeness that I’ve been lacking today in the face of getting poked full of needles.

Arlon grins as he carries the supplies over to me. “As you wish,” he says as he slips eight focuses down my fingers. “I’ll be using forty needles. Ten to each arm, five to each thigh, and ten on your chest.”

I swear quietly. That’s more than twice what I did the last time I tried corpimancy. “That sounds daunting, sir.”

“I will stop the second you say so,” he says, holding my gaze sternly. “Can I trust you to do that?”

“I let out a long breath and draw in another. “Yes, sir.” My eyes slide closed as I sink back against the cross. “Right. I’m ready, sir.”

Arlon kisses my head before I hear the glug of alcohol. The wet rag cleans the soft flesh of my underarms and thighs before he cleans my chest, right over my heart. I keep my eyes closed and hear the leather case snap open.

He gently pinches the skin of my underarm and I brace as the needle slides through my skin. I groan at the sting, and maybe it’s because he’s targeting the underside of my arm instead of the top, but it seems to take longer to fade. It eventually does, and I try to relax as the pain dulls to a throb.

Another pinch, another needle. I wince, but focus on my breathing, inhaling deeply before letting it out slow. I do that after every needle, and by the fifth, I’m floating, feeling that euphoria start to warp the sensation of pain into something just adjacent to it. Arlon slides the last needle into my arm, and I let out a quiet moan.

His hand cups my cheek and I lean into it as I open my eyes. My vision is already floating.

“Are you alright, Dominai?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

He moves onto my other arm, and the focuses crackle with charge as he pushes the first needle through. They feel foreign under my skin, cold at first before they warm to my temperature. The flesh around each one throbs in time with my heartbeat. Another ten are pierced into me before he moves onto my legs.

“Brace yourself,” Arlon says.

The skin on top of my thigh can’t be pinched like my arms can and Arlon slides the sharp point of the needle over my skin before sinking in. The needle pierces almost an inch of flesh before it exits again, and I shout as my eyes fly open. The pain goes straight to my head, and I sink against the cross with a groan, feeling a little dizzy.

“Too much?” Arlon asks.

“It’s a lot,” I groan.

“Take a second,” he says gently. “Do you want to stop?”

I lean back against the cross and close my eyes as I draw in a shaky breath. “No, sir.”

Arlon kisses my cheek. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

The sharp tip of the second needle pokes against my skin as Arlon strokes the inside of my thigh. The shivers of pleasure makes it easier to give a wordless nod. The metal pierces through me, making my head swim deliciously. It feels like he takes forever to finish with my leg, and yet another eternity passes as he pierces five needles into my other one.

I’m shaking by the time he’s done, grateful that the straps are there to hold me up. Then, he moves onto my chest. The focuses crackle again as he puts his hand over my heart, feeling the steady, yet elevated thud. Keeping my breathing even is harder now as every touch sends mixed messages of pain and pleasure. His fingers feel like ice against my heated skin as he cleans my chest again.

“You’re almost done,” Arlon promises as he kisses my forehead. “Are you alright?”

The words feel thick on my tongue. “Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

He pinches a bit of skin on my chest, just around my nipple, though he waits until I nod before he slides the needle home. I let out a desperate groan, letting my head fall back as another pierces through.

He makes a circle on my chest, angling every sharp point to aim at my nipple. I’m limp against the cross, trembling with the shock of it even as I float halfway out of my body. But then Arlon’s hand on my cock snaps me to attention.

I’m amazed that I’m half hard, and I remember what Galiva said about corpimancy requiring a particular brand of pervert. Maybe I am that because when Arlon starts to stroke me, I come crashing back into my body with a desire so hot it shocks me. Despite the needles in me, I strain against the straps to roll my hips into his hand.

Though my vision’s gone hazy, I can still see Arlon’s smile as he strokes me to full attention. When he lets go, I can’t stop a wail of disappointment.

“Sir, please.”

Arlon chuckles and plucks the focuses from my fingers before putting on eight fresh ones. “In time,” he says. “Let’s see how you do with this.”

There’s a soft click as he opens the other case, and I blink until my eyes can focus long enough to see what’s in it. A row of shiny metal needles rest in a neat line. Arlon pulls the smallest one out and holds it up for me to see, and up close, I realize that it’s no needle. It’s far too blunt and longer than my middle finger. A little thicker than a leather awl, though there’s a bulb at the end that’s even thicker. The other end has been crafted into a ring that Arlon holds between his fingers.

“This will be new for you,” Arlon says. “So if at any point it is uncomfortable, tell me. The needles that are supposed to hurt are already in you. This is going to go into your cock.”

My eyes go wide as I try to understand what he means. He drops a large glob of lotion onto the very tip of my cock, massaging my head until I moan. Then, he puts the blunt tip of the rod to the hole of my piss slit, and it breaks through my haze like a bucket of water.

“Woah, hold on.”

Arlon freezes. I look at him with wide eyes, and he must see my barely contained fear. He gives me a gentle smile. “I promise you it won’t hurt. It’s… intense, but it is not painful. Do you want me to stop?”

I draw in a steadying breath. If I didn’t trust Arlon so much, I don’t think I’d even be considering this. One slip and my cock could be ruined from the inside out. I bite my lip, trying to decide if closing my eyes would be better. I settle on keeping them open as I say, “Please keep going, sir.”

Arlon moves slow, guiding the head of the pin to slide into the tip of my cock. There’s definitely a stretch, but the lotion eases the smooth metal as it inches deeper.

“Aah, fucking hell,” I gasp, trying to decide if I like the unique sensation or not. But then Arlon pulls the pin up before slowly pressing it in further.

“Are you alright?” he asks gently.

I whimper and try to keep my hips still. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon lets go and the pin slides in the last half an inch until the ring at the end settles against the tip of my cock, stopping it from going any further. He strokes my length gently, slicking it with lotion. With the pole in my cock, it feels like I’m being stroked from the inside out.

“Fuck!” I gasp as Arlon lifts the pin up by the ring and lets it slide back in again. The sensation is overwhelming, and it almost feels like I’m building to an internal orgasm, though I don’t know how I can cum with the thing plugging my hole. I trust Arlon to know what he’s doing, and he must because the focuses around my fingers spark as they start to charge.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Arlon says. He fucks my slit with the metal pole before slowly pulling it free. He grabs another from his kit, and it’s a bit thicker and a little longer, with gentle ridges down its length. Judging by the hole that runs through the center, this one is also hollow.

“I won’t go bigger than this today,” he promises even as he drops another glob of lotion onto my slit.

I take a steadying breath but nod before Arlon guides the pole into my cock. Even though it’s not that much bigger, it sure as hell feels it. My slit is stretched gently by the rod, and the soft ridges wring a gasp of pleasure from me.

“F-fucking hell.” The tremor in my voice is getting worse. I don’t know how to handle this new kind of pleasure. It’s so different from what I’ve done before, and as the rod inches deeper, I let out a shout of ecstasy as it pushes past a spot inside of me. It almost feels like Arlon hitting that spot in my ass, except it’s radiating from the wrong end of me. I let out a long, shuddering moan as Arlon fucks me with the rod, pulling it out an inch before gently guiding it back in.

I strain against the straps as I shudder with pleasure. I feel every needle still under my skin, feel the bite of the leather straps around my limbs, every ridge in the pole that fucks my slit. The combined sensations make me feel like I’m going to come apart.

“Sir, please!”

Arlon grins before he loosens the straps from my left arm. “Move carefully,” he cautions. “Stroke yourself.”

I don’t need to be told twice as I grab my shaft. It feels incredible as I stroke over my length, the gentle ridges of the rod enhancing everything my hand is doing. Arlon fucks me with the rod, wringing a desperate moan out of me. He must see me getting close because he pulls the rod almost all the way out before he lets go of it, letting it slide in of its own accord. Each ridge massages me from the inside out as the rod treks steadily down. It hits that spot inside of me, pushing past some unseen barrier, and I shout as I cum hard.

My seed rushes out of me, and even that feels more intense. Some of it makes it out of the hole in the rod, but the intensity of my orgasm is enough to push the rod back up, making the ridges drag through me all over again. I scream as the force of my orgasm pushes the rod free to clatter against the floor. Blearily, I see Arlon watching me, his arms folded across his chest.

When I’m finally finished, I slump against the cross, shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. Arlon murmurs quiet praises in my ear, though I barely register them as words. His fingers are gentle as they ease the needles out of me, and I whimper when he cleans the holes with alcohol. He doesn’t unstrap the rest of me until he’s finished bandaging my wounds. I fall against him, my legs turned to water. He’s talking to me again, but it’s not until he grabs my chin and makes me look at him that I’m able to focus.

“Are you alright, Dominai?”

I’m sore and exhausted, my mind so far gone I doubt I can manage words. Instead, a quiet whimper of pleasure passes my lips as I nuzzle against his hand. He chuckles, his thumb stroking my cheek.

“Good boy, Dom,” he says before pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m proud of you.”

I flush with pleasure, warmth pooling in my chest at the praise. Arlon’s proven yet again that when I’m in the right headspace, I’ll let him do anything to me. Yet I’ve never regretted it.

“Thank you, sir.”

17

ANNOUNCEMENT

The work of wizards is often dangerous and thankless. Yet even through the most difficult trials and tribulations, the Crux and the individuals who inhabit it remain strong.

Magic Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

*Please note this chapter contains mentions of rape and sexual assault.

Arlon lets me go to dinner dressed. I’m still floating when he sits me down at one of the long tables, settling me between Olbric and Cancassi. For a second, I’m afraid of letting Olbric see me like this. The last thing I want to do is stir up jealousy, but then Arlon leans down to murmur something into Olbric’s ear.

Olbric chuckles and nods before Arlon squeezes his shoulder and heads towards the front of the room. Fingers grab my chin, turning my head until I meet Olbric’s grin. I nuzzle against his hand as his thumb strokes my cheek.

“Doing alright, Dom?” he asks gently.

I nod and give a tired smile as Cancassi pulls me out of Olbric’s grip until I can lean against their shoulder. Their long fingers brush my hair away from my face, and I moan as they start to rub my head. Olbric catches my lips in a quick kiss.

“I’ll get you a bowl,” he says. I watch him get up even as Arlon stops at the front of the long room and turns to face the full mess hall.

“If I could have your attention, please,” Arlon says and folks at the front of the room start clanking their utensils against their cups until the chatter dies down. Olbric returns a second later and sets down a bowl of vegetable stew and barley in front of me. All eyes turn to Arlon as the room goes silent.

The Grandmaster looks around the hall to be sure he has everyone’s attention before he speaks again. “I have received notice from King Thermilious about the fate of the rogue wizards Lucien Carter and Jaret Voss.” The room seems to collectively hold its breath, waiting for him to continue. “Tomorrow, they will be executed at noon in the city center.”

His words hit like a sledgehammer, a ripple of shock traveling around the room. Cancassi gasps, and they’re not the only one. Olbric goes stiff next to me, and even though I knew it was coming, Arlon’s words send a jolt through me, chasing away the last of my haze.

“I requested their Quietus be private, and I was denied. As it stands, I will be attending the public execution,” Arlon continues. “Your choice of whether or not to attend is up to you. As always, you are allowed to decline for any reason and without judgment.”

His eyes scan the room, and he lets out a small sigh. “I will be in the courtyard at second bell to leave for town. For anyone who wishes to join, I would like us to show a unified front in condemning the actions of these wizards who have hurt some of our own. We need to remind the people of Straetham that we are not like them. We are not kidnappers and rapists.”

His words hang heavy. Across the hall, I hear someone’s shuddering breath, a few snuffles.

Arlon seems to meet every eye in the room when he says, “We are healers. We are guardians. We are servants. The work we do here is as important as it is misunderstood. But unfortunately, we are judged by the actions of the worst among us. Diran, Jaret, and Lucien’s atrocities reflect on us all. I hope I am wrong in thinking that the next couple of months will be difficult for us, but as a precaution, I have tightened security around the Crux by instituting a guard rotation. I request that if you cross the moat or go into town, to go in pairs or more.”

Arlon sighs, looking weary beyond his years. “Never forget that we are doing incredible things here. Never forget that we pursue the study of magic not just because we want to, but because it is important. We exist in a position to create positive change in the world. But remember that you are important as well. Make sure, especially during times like this, that you take care of yourselves, and you take care of each other.”

He looks around the room with something like pride on his face. He gives a wan smile. “As always, my door is open to any one of you, should you need me.”

Arlon nods before making his way from the front of the room. The chatter picks up almost immediately. I watch Arlon grab dinner for himself before he walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“There are others who will need you tonight, Dom. Take care of them,” he says. He presses a gentle kiss to my head before he unfastens my collar and hands it to me. “Thank you for today.”

I blink when I realize I’ve been dismissed for the night. Arlon walks across the hall to the door, and Alix pushes to his feet to follow him. Apparently others need him tonight, too. I watch them go as I store my collar in the pocket of my robe.

Being collared means being under his command, both inside the casting room and out. I never expect to be thanked because it’s my duty and pleasure to do it. Arlon makes his gratitude known in other ways, but hearing his quiet thanks warms me from the inside out.

Yet when I look at Olbric and Cancassi, I realize he’s right. Arlon needed me today, but others need me tonight. This order is an easy one to obey.

We head down to the baths after dinner as a group. I lead the way as Olbric carries Cancassi down the long, winding stairs. While the two of them undress and settle into the pool, I sit on the edge and dip my feet in, not wanting to get my bandages wet.

None of us feel like talking. Cancassi has a haunted look on their face, and when Olbric touches their shoulder, they blink as if they’re having to reel their thoughts in from far away. The Maeve gives a wavering smile before Olbric pulls them into a tight embrace. The silence stretches, but it doesn’t feel like my place to interrupt it. Instead, we soak in the quiet comfort of each other’s company.

Some time later, Galiva pads down the stairs. She’s not wearing her robes, and there’s a smear of dried blood on the front of her cotton shirt. It must have been a rough afternoon at the clinic. She looks exhausted, but her expression softens at the sight of us.

“I heard,” she says before anyone can ask. She comes over and kisses my neck. “Take the bandages off and come in. The magiline will help them heal.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I unwrap the bandages that Arlon dressed me with as Galiva pulls off her clinic clothes. I sink in next to Olbric, and Galiva scoots in beside me with a groan.

“Long day?” I ask.

“Long month,” she mutters as she nuzzles under my arm. “Thanks for your help with those corpimancy spells. Arlon gave them over when I got back.”

I kiss her cheek. “You’re welcome. It was interesting to conduit for.”

Galiva gives me a knowing look as she against me, letting her head rest against my shoulder. I sink in further as well, comfortably sandwiched between her and Olbric. Yet it’s only then I feel him shaking. I look up to see his face darkened with anger.

“I’m going,” Olbric says at last, his voice hard. “I want to see them drop.”

His words echo around the quiet bath. I understand his anger, but for some reason, hearing it makes me uncomfortable. When he’s casting and laughing and kissing me, it’s easy to forget how well acquainted Olbric is with death. Witnessing it doesn’t make him squirm like it does me.

Cancassi swallows and drags their fingers through their loose white hair. “I am too,” they say quietly. “I… need to see that they’ll never hurt anyone again.”

Olbric takes their hand and brings it to his lips in a gentle kiss. Cancassi gives a wavering smile and buries their face against his neck.

Galiva rubs her tired eyes. “I’ve had my fill of death these past weeks,” she mutters. “I’m not going.” I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss against her shoulder.

I’ve been going back and forth on whether I’d go since Arlon told me this morning. I’m not like Olbric. I can kill and skin a deer without flinching, but I remember all too well what it felt like to sink an arrow through Virico’s eye. I still feel sick, even if he deserved it. But Arlon wants a united front.

Besides, I’m a large part of the reason they’re facing the hangman’s noose. If I hadn’t caught Sight of them attacking Olbric, they wouldn’t be here. In a way, I feel responsible, and it only seems right to see the end of it.

My sigh feels like resignation. “I’m going, too.”

18

THE GALLOWS

Magic is a miraculous thing. It can do impossibilities, make real the unreal. Yet it is also important to understand that every good thing can be poisoned when used by the wrong person. In the wrong hands, magic can create nightmares.

Magic Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

After we’ve dried off, Olbric takes my hand and leads me to his room. As soon as the door is closed, he kisses me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. He bites and nips, crushing his mouth against mine as he backs me towards his bed. I can taste his anger, feel his fear as it shivers through him.

Even after all these months, he’s never forgotten what happened outside of the Black Burrows. The fear and helplessness of being overwhelmed outside of the mines. Never forgotten being beaten and drugged and dragged towards an even worse fate. I don’t think he can. I don’t think anyone could.

I fall onto the bed and pull him with me, deepening the kiss into something softer. My hand drags through his loose hair, stroking, calming. The heat and fear drains out of him as I explore his mouth gently, holding him close.

When we finally part, tears stick to his long eyelashes and wet his cheeks. Arlon was right - I’m needed here tonight. I wrap my arms around Olbric and hold him close. I ease his bathrobe off of him and do the same with my own, feeling the heat of his naked skin against mine. There’s nothing I can say, so I just offer my comfort.

It must be enough. Olbric cries himself out. His shuddering breaths even out and slowly fade to the deep breaths of sleep. Only then do I do the same.

I wake at dawn with Virico’s sneer behind my eyes. Olbric’s back is snug against my chest, and I let out a quiet sigh as I tighten my arm over his waist. As hard as I try, I can’t seem to fall asleep again. The small bed puts my back against the wall, and I don’t want to disturb him by trying to get up. Instead, I stay put, breathing in his scent as the sun gradually brightens his window.

First bell rings out, and Olbric jerks under my arm. For a second, I think he might be waking up, but then he groans, low and quiet. Apparently I’m not the only one having bad dreams tonight.

“You’re safe,” I murmur. “You’re okay.”

It sometimes works, but not today. Olbric wakes with a jolt, and I immediately lift my arm from his waist, not wanting him to feel trapped. He breathes like he’s been running before he pushes his tangled hair out of his face.

“Are you alright?” I ask quietly.

“Just a bad dream.”

I press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and for a few long moments, we just lay there. I don’t have to ask what his dream was about, and he doesn’t need to tell me. In the months since the cave, he only wakes like this for one reason.

“Are you ready?” I ask at last.

Olbric lets out a long sigh. “As I’ll ever be.”

We get up and get dressed before heading down to breakfast. Others are already up as well. Allisande and Margeurite talk quietly while Cancassi and Alix sit shoulder to shoulder. I grab a handful of nuts and dried fruit, though I don’t have much of an appetite.

I take a seat next to Alix, and he barely looks up from his half-full cup of tea. As troubled a night as I had, it seems like he hasn’t slept at all.

“How are you faring?” I ask quietly. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for him.

“Not great,” he admits, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He takes a steadying breath before it shudders back out. “Allis, Iona, and Marvin are all going but… I don’t think I can do this. I-I don’t want to face them again. Not after everything -” His voice breaks, and he rests his head in his hands.

Looking at him is like looking at a raw wound. Cancassi’s eyes meet mine in a silent plea for help, as if I’ll have something to say that will make it better. I don’t. Instead, I say, “No one will blame you. You have to do what’s best for you.”

Alix shakes his head. “I know,” he says. He gives a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t conduit often, but before Lucien was kicked out of the Crux, I did for him. I thought I trusted him.” His fingers slide through his short hair and pull tight. “After all he did to me, it’s fucked that a part of me is going to miss him.”

The early afternoon air is cold. Flakes of snow ride on the breeze that cuts through my cloak like it’s not even there. I shiver and move closer to Olbric. On my other side, Allisande looks up at the gallows, her face pale, lips drawn into a thin line.

About thirty of us made the trek into the city center of Straetham. Together, we make an impressive group. We wear our robes under our cloaks but keep our spell necklaces displayed proudly. Everyone who sees us immediately knows who we are, and plenty of them stare.

Some look curious. Some look angry. Others, however, come up to talk to us.

A handful of well-dressed people walk over to Arlon, and he looks pleased to see them. Mabel’s even stepped away from her pie shop, and she makes her way through the crowd to pull Olbric into a tight hug. Through the throng, I catch sight of Katarine of the merchant’s guild as she weaves through the crowd to stand next to us in silent solidarity. Chatter murmurs throughout the crowd, and it seems like half of Straetham has shown up to watch the execution.

There’s a clatter of a cart and horse hooves before the crowd starts to jeer. The throng parts to let the prison cart pass through. It rolls to a stop by the gallows, and someone steps from the front to walk up the stairs and onto the platform. He looks official, dressed in a black cloak with the royal crest of a rearing gold griffin on his lapel. When he raises his gloved hands, the crowd falls silent.

I swallow as Jaret and Lucien are led from the back of the cart, their hands bound in front of them. Six months in a dungeon hasn’t done them any favors. They look worn thin, pale and haggard, like they’ve already put one foot into Quietus.

A hooded woman follows them up. A priestess of Quietus, I realize. As she secures the noose around Lucien’s neck, I have to look away.

“Jaret Voss and Lucien Carter,” the official says, and what little chatter remains dies. “By your own admission, you have both been found guilty of the crimes of assault, kidnapping, torture, and rape in the name of practicing magic outside of the Crux’s jurisdiction. These crimes were committed against members of both the magical community and the royal family.”

Jeers and boos rise from the crowd once more. I don’t want to look at the platform. Don’t want to see Jaret and Lucien’s expressions as they face their death. Instead, I scan the crowd. The people gathered seem to hold an almost gleeful kind of excitement at the prospect of watching two people drop. It makes me feel sick.

I start to regret coming when a flash of gray skin catches my eye among the throng. He moves half-stooped, like he’s trying not to be noticed, though as tall as he is, he’s failing at that. People glance at the tusks, the dirtied and ragged clothes, the rough-chopped brown hair that hangs in a mess around his face, and part for him. He wades through the crowd to stop right at the base of the gallows on the opposite side from us.

He’s nearly unrecognizable, but there’s no doubt about it.

It’s Garrett.

But it’s not just his crudely shorn hair that makes him look… off. Unease settles heavy in my gut. Something isn’t right. I don’t take my eyes off of him as I slip past Allisande and Cancassi to tug on Arlon’s sleeve.

“Sir.”

Arlon looks down before his gaze follows my finger. His face drops, his hand flying for his spells. But he’s a split-second behind Garrett. A split-second too late.

There’s a crash of breaking wood that is immediately echoed by screams of alarm. Dust and debris fly from the shattered gallows, but the sounds of panic only swell when another spell is released. A wave of force radiates out from Garrett. It topples the people closest to the gallows, and even as far away as I am, it’s like a gale trying to shove me over.

Chaos breaks out.

The crowd starts running like panicked cattle, all trying to get away from the gallows and the square. For a second, I’m lost in the mob, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, overwhelmed by the sounds of fear. Bodies crash into me, nearly sending me sprawling. For a breathless moment, I wonder what it’s like to be trampled to death.

But then a hand grabs me and yanks me close. I breathe in Arlon’s familiar scent as the tingle of abjuration covers us. People still run into us, but they bounce off like we’re a pillar instead of more bodies in the surging sea of them. I blink dust out of my eyes and look up at the Grandmaster.

“Stay behind me,” he says, shouting over the din. Around us, I start to hear the familiar whoosh of spells being released as the others work on crowd control. Arlon releases another spell and holds it in front of him like a shield as he stands over a downed woman, forcing the crowd to part around him like water.

I swear and help her to her feet. She’s dirtied but doesn’t look hurt. “Are you alright?”

She’s obviously shaken, but she nods. “Thank you,” she says, before disappearing into the crowd.

I follow behind Arlon as he pushes back towards the gallows. The wooden platform has been destroyed, and the royal official and executioner are half-buried in the rubble. Yet there’s another figure among the rubble, his movements stiff as he tosses chunks of wood aside before he finds what - or rather who - he’s looking for.

Garrett grabs Jaret’s shoulder before he pulls him to his feet, yanking the noose from over his head as he does. The rogue wizard looks terrified, his eyes wide as he’s dragged face to face with the half-orc. But Garrett doesn’t blast him. Instead, he takes the man’s hand and drops two focuses into his palm.

Jaret looks at him, his eyes widening with dawning understanding. He laughs before he kneels to push one into Lucien’s bound hands.

“What did I fucking tell you?” Jaret crows. “Diran’s not leavin’ us to die.”

Arlon doesn’t hesitate. He shoots off an abjuration, but Garrett intercepts it with one of his own. Lucien throws his arms up to protect his head before looking at the half-orc in disbelief, as if trying to figure out why he’s protecting them.

I’m trying to figure out the same. But looking at Garrett is like looking at a stranger. There’s not a lick of recognition on the half-orc’s face as he stands, crouched and ready for a fight. Arlon shoots off another spell but it’s too late. Jaret grabs Lucien and they both release their spells. In a blink, they vanish.

“Garrett!” Arlon snarls, but the half-orc doesn’t respond. Instead, he returns the attack - evocation, judging by the rain of ice that shoots from his hand. I flinch and throw my arms up on instinct, but Arlon does the smart thing and counters it with a shield. The ice storm crashes against it like so much breaking glass. Behind Garrett, the city and royal guards are rallying as they make their way through the remains of the crowd, closing in.

“Arlon,” I gasp.

“I see them,” he growls. “Make us a door. I’ll get him through it.”

I don’t question him. There’s no time. With the way the guards are raising their bows, they’re not going to give Garrett a chance to surrender. Arlon moves in, circling the half-orc carefully. Garrett doesn’t pay me any attention as I break off and go the opposite direction, trying to get behind him.

The half-orc keeps his eyes on Arlon, loosing spell after spell from his substantial necklace. Arlon dodges and blocks before shooting off a flashy evocation that erupts into a storm of fire against Garrett’s shield. The heat gives the advancing guards pause, and I find my conjuration before letting it loose.

The tear in the sky appears, and I grab the corner of it, pulling the door open as wide as I can. It resists, like trying to drag a wet blanket off of a clothes line.

“Ready!” I shout and hope Arlon can hear me over the roar of his spell.

He must, because a second later, he bursts through the flames, skin glowing with abjuration. He looses another spell that cracks through Garrett’s defenses like shattering a window before he tackles him around the waist.

It’s the same move he used on me in the dungeon, except this time, he’s not holding back. Arlon roars, and his momentum carries them both backwards and straight through the door of my spell. I follow them in and slam the door behind us, shutting us all into my conjuration.

Garrett crashes against the floor, but his fist slams into Arlon’s face, sending the Grandmaster sprawling. Garrett staggers to his feet but as the half-orc reaches for his spells, Arlon tackles him again, wrestling his hand away from the necklace. He tries to tear the spell necklace off, but Garrett yanks back. After Olbric was captured, we all reinforced our strands with wire, and there’s blood where it cuts into Arlon’s fingers.

It’s like watching giants clash. They’re equally matched in size and strength, and I realize that this is who Arlon usually spars with on the mat in the dungeon.

I’m frozen to the spot. Panic renders me useless as my thoughts grind to a halt. I don’t have my bow. I don’t know what to do. How to help.

Garrett’s fist crashes against the side of Arlon’s head, and the fight goes out of him. I watch in horror as Garrett’s hand tightens around Arlon throat before he trips him over his leg. Arlon goes down hard, and the half-orc helps him along, cracking his head against the ground before he tightens his grip, tusks bared in a snarl. Arlon chokes and grabs his hand, slamming down on Garrett’s forearm with his own to try and break his grip. Garrett holds, and Arlon gags as fingers dig into his neck.

I step towards them before I can remember all the reasons not to. My pulse thrums through my ears.

“STOP.”

Garrett jerks to a halt like he’s run into a wall. The veins in his neck bulge, his tusks bared as he fights the command. And it’s only then I notice that one of the command spells I cast with Ambra has gone dark on my necklace.

I fumble for my spells, the panic ebbing enough for me to remember it’s there. I feel the hum of each spell as I seek out the right one, praying to the gods it’ll work.

Arlon snatches Garrett’s necklace and tosses it to my feet as my command wears off. Garrett goes to strike as I find the enchantment I’m looking for. The last one Arlon and I made that night he stopped us. I release it the second before his fist connects with Arlon’s face.

Garrett jerks like he’s just waking up. Like he’s been doused with cold water. He blinks, and I see him again.

“Oh gods,” he whispers. “What’s happened?”

Arlon groans as he goes limp underneath him. “You broke my winning streak.”

Garrett looks at Arlon as if just seeing him. The Grandmaster’s face is bloodied, cheek already starting to swell. As Garrett pulls his hand from his neck, there’s a copy of it left in bruises against Arlon’s skin. The half-orc staggers off of him, looking horrified.

“And what else?” he asks and winces as he puts his hand over his eyes like he’s been struck with a sudden headache. “Ah, fucking hell.”

“Nothing short of public mayhem,” Arlon says and sits up slow, grabbing his ribs with a wince. Garrett sinks to the ground, resting his back against the wooden tub as he buries his face in his hands. “Though it appears you were doing it under enchantment. What happened?”

Garrett moans and pushes his shorn hair away from his face. “Diran happened. He caught up to me on the road.” He reaches for his neck, and his head jerks up. “Where is it?”

“Here.” I grab his spells and offer them back, but Garrett scoots away from me.

“No. There’s an active one on there,” he says. “Reinforcement in case the spells he cast on me failed.”

Arlon snatches the necklace away from me before searching for the focus in question. It’s not quick-tied on, so Arlon has to unstring the whole damn thing to get to it. Focuses spill across the floor, but I stop them with my feet before they can roll far.

“His cutthroat was pretending to rob me,” Garrett says. “Put on a good act of it, too. Dirty dress, using a fucking kitchen knife. I thought she was more desperate than dangerous. Never imagined I’d have to use a spell. Thought I’d send her on with some coin. Didn’t realize it was Isa until Diran stunned me from behind.”

Arlon finally grabs the focus and rips it from the necklace like tearing off a wart. “Fuck me!” he gasps and drops it. It starts to roll, but I reach to stop it. “Don’t! Don’t touch it.”

I freeze, seeing the sickly yellow focus that looks up at me like an eye. I shiver and get the distinct feeling it’s watching us. I pull my scarf off and toss it over the evil looking thing.

“What the hell is that?” Arlon asks, and I’m a little surprised that he doesn’t know.

“Enchantment and divination,” Garrett says hollowly. “He spell-stacked a few different enchantments to soften me up and added that to enforce his own will over mine. I-I’m not sure, but I think it lets him watch.”

I look uneasily at my scarf and kick it to be sure the whole focus is covered. Garrett’s broken laugh sounds closer to a sob. “He turned me into a fucking puppet. And I walked myself right into it.”

Arlon scoots towards him to grab the back of Garrett’s head. He pulls him until their foreheads touch, noses almost brushing each other. The intimacy of it makes me feel like I’m suddenly intruding on a private moment.

“No, you were giving a ragged thief the benefit of the doubt,” Arlon says. “You were being kind. And Diran used that kindness against you.”

Garrett draws in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know how he got them, but he has divination pillars. I-I think we must have been at one of the Barclay’s estates in the country. He’s set up in the Eastern Reach.”

“Do you remember where?” Arlon asks.

Garrett shakes his head, and that little bit of hope I had snuffs out just as quick as it appeared.

“He made sure I couldn’t. There are… a lot of gaps. What I can remember isn’t good.” Garrett gives a small laugh that sounds closer to tears as he drags his fingers through his shorn hair. “He cut off my braid.”

Arlon presses a kiss against his forehead. “You’re alright. It’ll be alright.”

Pain flashes across Garrett’s face, and he shakes his head harder. “They’re going to kill me, Arlon,” he says, his voice gaining a tremor as reality sets in. “I just attacked a city center to spring two dangerous wizards from the fucking gallows!”

Arlon tightens his grip protectively. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

“They’re going to shoot me the second we step out of here.”

“Listen to me, I am not going to let that happen.” Arlon grabs Garrett’s face, leaving a smear of blood from his cut hand on his gray skin. “Dom, what’s our situation outside?”

I crack the door open and hear shouting. There’s an official-looking royal guard arguing with Allisande. The others help form a circle around us, hands outstretched to support the barrier that keeps the guards and civilians at bay. The shouting is coming from the crowd that has stopped fleeing and started getting angry.

“Aah, fuck. Not good.” I close the door again. “The others are keeping the guards off us, but they don’t look happy.”

“I knew it,” Garrett says, voice hollow. “Somehow, I always knew this is how I’d go. Torn apart by an angry mob.”

There’s a sharp crack as Arlon slaps him across the face. “Snap out of it!” He gives a hard shake to drive his point home. “I am NOT going to let that happen!”

It’s only then I realize how scared Arlon is. He looks at Garrett with wide eyes, and his hand shakes as he presses it over the spot he just hit. But Garrett seems to come back to himself. He meets Arlon’s gaze, and that fear is reflected on his own face. They share in it and seem to draw strength from the fact that they’re not alone with it.

“We are going to go out there, and you are going to surrender to the guard,” Arlon says before looking at my scarf. “We have proof of what Diran did. I may not be able to spare you a prison cell. You may even be there for a stint, but I promise that I will protect you, and I will fight for you. You’re the King’s physician. You already have powerful people on your side.”

Garrett lets out a shuddering breath and clenches his eyes shut. “I know.”

Arlon kisses him gently before he lets out a long breath. They’re silent for a long minute. I don’t hurry them, even though the longer we wait, the worse I think it’s going to be. Finally, Arlon says, “I am so relieved to see you.”

Garrett gives a small laugh and pulls Arlon into a tight embrace. “No more than I am.” He rubs his eyes before looking around. “Where the hell are we?”

“Dominai’s conjuration,” Arlon says before looking at me. “Seems as if your collaring produced some useful spells. You used that mystery enchantment we made?”

“Yeah,” I say and run my fingers over my necklace. “That and one of the command spells I made with Ambra.”

I don’t understand how - I never even touched it. Had forgotten about my spells entirely. But it doesn’t matter. It worked.

“Thank you,” Garrett says, his voice raw with emotion. We’re both thinking it - if I hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed Arlon.

“You’re welcome.”

I offer a hand and help him to his feet. He sways before he gives himself a shake, like he’s trying to slough off the remnants of the enchantment. Arlon gets to his feet slower, and I let him put an arm over my shoulders for support. He moves gingerly, and by the way he’s holding his ribs, I’m sure he’s cracked or broken a couple of them.

Garrett swears. “I’m dry up of corpimancy spells. Ran out before I even left Belingrad.”

“It’ll be alright,” Arlon promises, and I know he’s talking about more than just his injuries. I fold my scarf over the focus a few times before I scoop Diran’s spell up. Under the layers of my scarf, the marble is unusually warm. Arlon nods in approval before he tries to smooth down his disheveled hair. “Are you ready?”

Garrett takes a few deep breaths, and resignation joins the fear on his face. He gives a wavering grin, showing the short white tusks that jut up behind his bottom lip. “As ready as I can be.”

Arlon kisses him again, softer this time. “It’ll be alright,” he says again. “Just stay behind me.”

Garrett nods, and I put a hand on his shoulder as I come to stand next to him. He’s shaking but gives a wan smile when he looks down at me. I return it, trying to provide whatever comfort I can.

Arlon opens the door.

19

DAMAGE CONTROL

*Please note that this chapter contains mentions of sexual assault and torture.

The sound is deafening. There’s shouting from the crowd, from the guards, even from the other Crux wizards. I wince and resist the urge to cover my ears, even as I tighten my grip on Garrett. His shaking has turned to a visible tremor as the blood drains from his face, turning his gray skin ashen.

Arlon walks over to Allisande and puts a hand on her shoulder. Though I can’t make out what she says, her shoulders slump with relief at the sight of him. Arlon turns towards the guard she had been arguing with. Terse words are exchanged, and a few of the guards turn their collective glare onto Garrett.

“- are not dropping this shield until this crowd disperses, Captain!” Arlon shouts, his voice cutting over the din. “I don’t care how long it takes. He will go willingly once it is safe to do so.”

The head guard purses her lips but turns to the man at her side and mutters an order. He nods and starts issuing orders to the others, directing the city guards to gently disperse the crowd. All the while, Arlon and what I assume is the Captain of the Guard going off of the stripes on her sleeves stare each other down, neither of them speaking.

Garrett’s ragged breaths start to even out as the crowd breaks apart. Finally, Arlon gives the order. “Drop the shields.”

“It’s alright,” I say as Garrett tenses. It feels like he’s braced to run. “It’s okay.” He lets out a long breath as Arlon and the Captain approach.

“Hands out,” the Captain orders, pulling out a pair of heavy metal manacles. Garrett obeys without a word, his eyes downcast.

“This is unnecessary,” Arlon says. “I have his spells. I assure you, he will go willingly.”

The Captain ignores him as she locks the manacles around Garrett’s wrists. “Will you two also go willingly?” she asks and looks pointedly from me to Arlon. She must see the muscle in Arlon’s jaw jump, because she adds, “For questioning. We need to understand what went on here before we can determine what will happen next.”

“Of course,” Arlon says with a small nod. “Give me a moment with my wizards.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he motions me to follow him and calls the others around. Everyone huddles close, looking just as concerned and confused as I feel. Arlon holds up a hand to stop the flood of questions that threatens to break loose.

“I will explain everything once the dust has settled. Until then, I need you all to return to the Crux. Allis, get with Alix and find Paulette. You three are in charge until I return, and you are to lock down the Crux. I want no one coming or going. Understood?”

Allisande is pale, her eyes wide. “Yes, of course. How… long will you be gone?”

Arlon sighs, and his answer makes my stomach twist uneasily. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “This much is clear - Lucien and Jaret have escaped, and Diran used one of our own to do it. It’s no coincidence that Diran targeted a full master of the Crux to do his bidding. This was meant to hurt us and our standing with Straetham.” He goes to run his hand through his hair, sees the bloody mess it is, and lets it fall back to his side with a grimace. “So for now, we need to regroup and lay low. I will do everything I can to mitigate this.”

We’re taken to the nearest guardhouse, which happens to be the castle keep. Neither Arlon or I are cuffed, but the guards follow us close enough that I expect to feel a spear in my back if I so much as scratch an itch next to my spells.

My heart’s thudding at a rapid pace, but Arlon puts his uninjured hand on my shoulder. “It’s alright. We’re all on the same side.”

Garrett’s drawn expression tells me he’s doubting that sentiment right about now.

We’re brought inside of the keep and led to different rooms. Mine is little bigger than a closet and other than two chairs, it’s empty. I pace the length of it, feeling like a cat in a trap. But after a time, my nerves settle enough to let me feel how tired I am.

I sit with a sigh as the distant bells of the Crux ring out, signaling sixth bell. There’s no window in the small room, but I feel when the chill of night penetrates the room. The dinner bell rings out, and I’m near dozing when the door finally opens again.

I jump to my feet, but it’s just my luck that I recognize the guard who comes in. It’s the asshole I dealt with at the gates while collared. He shuts the door behind him.

“Have a seat,” he says.

“Took y’all long enough.”

I sink further into the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. The guard takes a seat across from me before he pulls off his helmet and sets it on the ground next to him. Without it on, he’s actually rather handsome. White-skinned, short black hair, and that distinctive dimpled chin that had allowed me to pick him out from the others.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Dominai.”

“Just Dominai?”

He’s trying to out me as a bastard or the peasant I am. I doubt my grin hides how tired I am of being here. “Master Dominai, if you’d like.”

A bit of color rises to his pale cheeks. He clears his throat, eyes darting away.

My own go wide. Here I thought only Arlon and Galiva could ruffle folks with a word, but maybe I do have that effect on people. My grin gets far more sincere, and it only seems to fluster him more.

“I need to hear what happened in your own words,” he says, voice cracking. “Start from the beginning.”

Sobering, I tell him. I don’t leave anything out. We’re supposedly on the same side, so there’s no reason to try and lie. I’m not great at lying anyway. Yet as I talk, it’s obvious by the look on his face that he doesn’t believe me.

“As soon as I cast the spell, he snapped out of it,” I say. My scarf is clenched tight in my hand, and as much as I don’t want to let the evil thing out, I unfold it to show him Diran’s focus. “This is part of what was controlling him. A spell made by Diran Barclay.”

“And how did he get in possession of this?” the guard asks. I must be tired because in one long blink, he snatches the damn thing out of my hand before I can close my fist to stop him.

The effect is instantaneous. The guard jerks back, clutching the focus to his chest, but when he looks up, his eyes flash with hatred. He lunges for me, free hand going for my throat.

My fingers fly to my necklace. Can’t be said I don’t learn from my mistakes. A spell flashes out as I command, “Drop it!”

The guard’s hand opens, and Diran’s focus falls out of his grip. It bounces against the stone floor and rolls away from us as he blinks the glaze from his eyes. He looks down, and his eyes widen with surprise when he finds his hand around my throat and his knee pressed between my legs.

I follow his gaze, grinning wryly up at him. “Usually I at least know the name of the person grabbing my throat.”

He staggers back into his own chair, face flushed hot red, though some well-warranted fear colors his embarrassment this time. “T-the fuck was that?” He’s looking at the focus like it might bite him. I doubt it will, but better safe than sorry.

“Enchantment and divination,” I say. “And strong enough that even the Grandmaster was afraid to touch it.” I toss him my scarf. “Use that to pick it up next time. I wasn’t carrying it wrapped up to keep it warm.”

The guard catches my scarf as he eyes me warily. I bet it’s a bit jarring to be on the receiving end of a command spell. “Thanks.” He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest, but under all those ruffled feathers I can tell that he’s finally starting to believe what I’ve been saying. “How did he get it?”

“He didn’t get it. It was forced on him,” I say. “He’s a corpimancer. Was in the Reach helping with the aftermath of an earthquake. He was ambushed on the road home.”

“Or so he says.”

“Look, I just learned that Garrett’s the King’s own fucking physician,” I snap, my patience wearing thin. Today has worn me the hell out, and now this guard’s keeping me from burrowing into a warm bed back at the Crux. “You think anyone that’s allowed at the bedside of royalty could just snap and level a city square?”

The guard opens his mouth, thinks twice about it, and thankfully shuts it. He eyes the focus before he takes my scarf and carefully folds it over. He uses it to scoop the glowing marble up and says, “I need to show this to the Captain.”

“Be my guest.” I jab a finger at the focus. “But I’m not letting that thing out of my sight.” I’m still new to this whole dealing-with-the-authorities business, but I have a feeling Arlon would frown at me letting someone take a spell like that without supervision.

The guard looks me over before he hands the whole bundle to me. Like he’s glad to be rid of it. I can’t blame him - seeing what it’s done is bad enough, yet I don’t want to imagine what Diran must have done to create it.

“Come on, then. You can show her.”

Even if he’s an ass, at least he’s not stupid. I fold the parcel up again before I follow him out the door. “I never did get your name.”

His eyes flash briefly to mine, and I think I see a bit of grudging respect on his face. “Nikolai.”

The Captain is in the main room of the keep, and a wave of relief washes over me when I see that Arlon’s with her. Some of the lines on Arlon’s face ease at the sight of me. Then the Captain turns, and I realize they’re not alone.

King Thermilious looks up as we approach, a frown on his face. Maybe it’s because he’s dressed plainly today that I was able to overlook him. There’s no crown or circlet on his head, and without it, he might almost be mistaken for a regular person. He’s wearing a comfortable but finely made shirt and breeches under a well tailored coat to keep out the cold.

His blue eyes lock onto me, and my heart does a little flip-flop in my chest.

“You have the spell?”

I shake it off. “Y-yes, your Majesty.” I step forward and pull the scarf back for him to see the glowing yellow focus.

He reaches out like he wants to touch it, and Nikolai gasps. I snap the scarf closed and am rewarded with a glare from a godsdamned Regent.

“Please, don’t touch it, Sire,” Nikolai says, voice strained.

“He’s saying that because he already did, Sire,” I say, and am rewarded when Thermilious redirects those striking blue eyes to Nikolai.

“And what did it do?”

Nikolai shifts under the scrutiny. He doesn’t meet my eye when he says, “It... made me feel like I wanted to kill him.” He shifts uncomfortably as his hands fold behind his back. “I may have if Master Dominai hadn’t made me drop it.”

Thermilious casts a wary glare at my scarf. “When I heard it was Garrett that had attacked the square, I didn’t believe it.”

“Because it wasn’t him, Sire,” Arlon insists. “This is Garrett. Who works tirelessly to heal, not destroy. And with all due respect, Sire, he’s the only reason you survived the fever and are alive to pass judgment on him today. You know as well as I do that he’s not capable of this.”

“Your Majesty,” the Captain cuts in. “Master Garrett helped two dangerous criminals escape from your justice. In front of half of the city, no less. I think it is wise to keep him here, away from the source of his power.”

“If you’re convinced of some conspiracy, he was with us when we brought in Lucien and Jaret,” Arlon snaps, his patience also wearing thin. “Why would he do that just to free them now?”

“Whether he was influenced or not is irrelevant. Master Garrett’s actions have sent this city into turmoil. People trust magic until they have reason to fear it, and he’s given half of the city a reason this afternoon. He is a danger. The fact that he’s supposedly one of the best the Crux has to offer only shows that they can’t handle what they create,” she says as her severe gaze lands on Arlon.

The Grandmaster looks like he’s been struck, but as someone who’s used to taking hits, he doesn’t flinch. His lips press into a thin, bloodless line, his eyes hardening to a glare. The Captain holds his gaze, and the heat in it speaks to a history. Knowing where Arlon comes from, I wonder how far back that history stretches.

Thermilious raises a hand to stop any further argument. “I want to speak to him.”

The Captain’s shoulders stiffen before she bows. “As you wish, Majesty.”

The King insists on speaking to Garrett in private. Arlon and I are left with nothing to do but wait. We’re dropped in an only slightly larger room than the one I was questioned in earlier. As the minutes tick by, Arlon paces the length of the small sitting room, fear etched into the lines of his face.

“Arlon, you should sit,” I say, breaking the silence at last. Using his name gets the attention I hoped it would. He stops pacing to look at me. “You look ready to drop.”

He rubs his eyes, looking as tired as I feel. Though the execution was supposed to happen at noon, it’s far past dinner now. Between the waiting, the questioning, and more waiting, we’ve been here for hours. He finally comes over, and I stand to help him sit. He scowls but accepts my arm, wincing as he lowers himself down. His hand flies to his side as he gets settled.

“I’m getting too old for brawls like that.”

He leans back with a sigh, and I take a seat next to him. It’s something like habit that makes me lean against his shoulder. A second later, his arm slides around my own, his fingers burying in my hair. I think we both need the reassurance of touch. I didn’t realize how tight I was holding my shoulders until I let them relax.

“I’m glad you were there,” he says.

I shake my head. “I froze. I-I didn’t know what to do.”

Arlon tilts his head as he looks down at me. “What do you mean? You commanded him to stop.”

“I’d forgotten all about my spells,” I admit, though my hand goes to them now. “I was wanting for my bow. Just wanted it to stop. When I said it, the spell just… went off.”

Arlon’s hand pauses in my hair. “Curious,” he says. “It’s a rare wizard that can release a spell without it in hand. Was it touching your chest under your shirt?”

I run my hand over my necklace, uncertain. The whole thing was a blur of barely contained panic. “I-I’m not sure. Probably?”

“My predecessor, Fawn, is the only wizard I know who could cast a spell without holding it,” Arlon says. “It’s a rare talent. If Garrett could do that, this fight would have ended very differently.”

I tuck my spells under my shirt, appreciating the weight against my bare skin all the more. “Seeing you two firefight was…”

“Overwhelming?”

“Fucking terrifying.”

“You’re not wrong,” Arlon mutters.

“I’m just glad the spell didn’t wait for me to remember what I should do. Otherwise -” I can’t finish the thought. Don’t even want to think it.

Arlon finishes it for me. “Otherwise I’d be dead.” We’re quiet as that reality sinks in. “You saved my life, Dominai. With that, you saved Garrett’s, too.”

He must sense the incoming deflection because he grabs my chin before I can even turn away. “There’s a reason he chooses to heal rather than fight. Can’t stand the guilt that comes with hurting someone, let alone taking a life. Diran targeting him of all people was just one more cruelty. Make no mistake, you saved two people today.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, letting my eyes close as I lean into his hand. I don’t know what to say to that, and I’m too tired to try. His fingers continue their exploration of my hair before he adds, “But remind me to give you a proper lesson on firefighting.”

I give a huff of a laugh and turn to kiss his palm. “Thank you.”

The door clicks open a moment later. I help Arlon to his feet, hearing him suck in a sharp breath. His hand flies against his side, the color draining from his face, and I’m starting to worry about how bad his ribs are.

The Captain walks in first, but Garrett is right behind her. The heavy manacles unlock from around his wrist and clang to the floor. Garrett looks at them in disbelief before the Captain gives him a push towards us.

“The King has declared this a magical matter,” the Captain says.

Garrett takes a staggering step towards us, his eyes wide with shock. He looks a step away from his knees folding. Arlon takes his arm before they can.

“Master Garrett is released to the jurisdiction of the Crux so long as three conditions are met,” she continues. “He is to be confined to the Crux. A representative of the Crown will inspect him weekly until we are convinced that he is free of any lingering enchantment. He will carry no spells until the Crown gives express approval. Once we are convinced, he’ll be allowed to return to his duties in the clinic on probation.”

Arlon levels a glare at her. “Understood. Are we free to go?”

The Captain’s eyes narrow to match him. “This is the chance to rebuild the trust, Arlon. The King is convinced of his innocence, but I am not. I’ll be watching.”

I bristle, but Arlon’s face is carefully neutral. He puts a hand on Garrett’s shoulder and murmurs, “Let’s get out of here.”

The trip back to the Crux is dark and cold and longer than I ever remember it being. Even though Arlon tries to refuse, Garrett gets an arm around his waist. He’s limping bad enough to warrant the extra support, which makes me wonder if he fucked his knee during their fight too.

I lead the way and keep a few lengths ahead of them. It’s not quite far enough to miss their quiet conversation. I’m not trying to eavesdrop, but it’s hard not to hear.

“What did you tell Thermilious?”

“The truth,” Garrett says. “As best as I could remember it. He was understanding.” Arlon lets out a quiet huff but Garrett speaks over him. “He’s a better man than you give him credit for.”

“He’s let you return to the Crux, so maybe he is,” Arlon says. “I’m grateful all the same.”

A moment of silence passes between them. “I’m sorry, Arlon.”

“Don’t,” Arlon says, and it’s like he was waiting for this. “Don’t you dare apologize. This is not your fault.”

“Even so, I still fucked things with Straetham,” Garrett says. “Diran got exactly what he wanted.”

They’re quiet for a long moment, the unanswered questions hanging between them. Finally, Arlon asks, “What do you remember?

“After he jumped me?” Garrett’s voice emerges in something like a croak. It’s easy to hear how raw he is. It’s like his entire world has dropped out from beneath him and he’s just been given the time to realize it. “He drugged me. Beat me. Humiliated me. I-It’s all so fragmented.”

“And?”

I know what he’s asking, and in the second before Garrett answers, my stomach drops, dreading what he’ll say.

“No. He didn’t have to fuck me to break me. Said he’d never touch a half-breed.”

I feel sick. I remember Diran’s eyes locking with mine in the cave and shiver all over again at the memory of that cold gaze.

Arlon is quiet for a long moment, anger growing around him like a cloud. “I’m going to find him,” he says at last. “And I’m going to kill him for this.” The quiet conviction in his voice chills me.

“And what will that do for us?” Garrett asks, his own gaining an edge. “Captain Thora is about to be the arrow aimed at your back.”

“Because of Diran!” Arlon snaps. “If Thermilious had just let me question Jaret and Lucien, none of this would have happened. We could have found him!”

I flinch and pull my cloak tighter around me. It’s a rare occasion to hear Arlon yell, and I hate the sound of it.

“I am sick and tired of Diran being allowed to get away with this by virtue of his godsdamned fucking surname. I am sick and tired of having my hands tied while he’s allowed to victimize yet another person I care about!”

Arlon’s voice cracks, and their footsteps come to a stop. I glance back to see Arlon yank Garrett into a fierce embrace. “I’m supposed to protect the Crux and everyone in it,” he says. “And I’m failing.”

Garrett sinks into his arms and lets out a breath. “No, you aren’t. Arlon, you promised me you would protect me, and you did. The guard wouldn’t have let me out of that square alive if it weren’t for you.”

“I sent you out in the first place,” Arlon rasps. “I may as well have sent you straight to him.”

“Only because I agreed to go,” Garrett says. “You didn’t force me to anything. I went so Galiva didn’t have to. I knew the risks of traveling alone.”

Hearing Gal’s name sends an unpleasant jolt through me. As awful as today has been, it makes my stomach drop imagining her where Garrett is. It makes me feel sick all over again.

“I’m so sorry,” Arlon whispers.

“Arlon, don’t. Please. I can’t take your guilt on top of my own,” Garrett says. I glance back to see Garrett rest his forehead against Arlon’s, one big hand cupping his head. Tears darken his gray skin. “Please.”

Arlon grimaces. He takes a breath, pushing his own guilt and doubt aside. He steels himself, straightens his shoulders, and the Grandmaster is back. It’s like watching a man try to carry a mountain, even when he threatens to crumble under the weight.

Arlon cups Garrett’s face and presses a gentle kiss against his forehead. “I promise I will protect you,” he murmurs. “Always.”

Garrett lets out a broken sob and clutches Arlon’s shoulders. He’s been on the ragged edge since I snapped him out of it, but now he’s finally had a second to let it all catch up. The grief rolls off of him, but Arlon holds him tight, and the mountain holds strong under this new deluge. He keeps a hand on the back of Garrett’s head, holding him close while whispering quiet assurances.

“You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Arlon is the ballast Garrett needs right now, but who helps Arlon when the weight gets to be too much? I take a step towards them but stop. It doesn’t feel like my place to interject, even if all I want to do is offer comfort. I pull my cloak around me and quietly stay out of the way.

Garrett eventually runs out of tears or energy. Maybe both. For a moment, they’re silent, and I glance back to see Arlon whispering into his ear. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but Garrett nods as he scrubs at his face.

By some unspoken agreement, they start walking again, and I fall into place ahead of them. They’re silent for the rest of the trip, and it’s a relief when the Crux comes into view. The magiline tower glows with a ghostly light, and as we get closer, I see the shine of the abjuration shield forming a dome over the other towers. For the first time, the Crux truly looks like a stronghold.

The drawbridge is closed when we reach it, but we’re not the only ones wanting in. A hooded figure paces back and forth along the moat.

“Bridgette?” Garrett’s voice comes out hoarse.

The figure turns, and a silver-haired woman looks out from the depths of the hood. I recognize her face from the few times I’ve seen her around the Crux, but I never connected the name. I remember Garrett telling me about her - that she had been a prostitute before the two of them had come to the Crux together.

“Thank the gods.” She runs forward and throws her arms around Garrett with a sob of relief. He returns the embrace and pushes her hood back as he buries his face against her neck. Her hands search him like she’s checking to be sure he’s all there. When she gets to his head, she runs her hands over his shorn hair in disbelief. “There have been so many different stories - I didn’t know what to believe, and couldn’t find a godsdamned soul who could tell me, so I came here just to find it like this!” She sounds close to frantic, and I can’t blame her.

“I’m so sorry,” Arlon says. “I gave the order to lock it down until I returned. I didn’t realize -”

“Didn’t realize?” Bridgette snarls, that fear turning to anger in a blink. “Didn’t realize the news I was hearing about my husband might concern me?” Every word roils as she pulls out of Garrett’s grip. “I heard he had been arrested. I-I heard he was dead.” She storms over to Arlon, an accusatory finger poking him in the chest. “You promised me, Arlon. You said this would be low risk. You said he’d be fine to go alone.”

“Bri,” Garrett says, a hint of pleading in his voice.

“No. I’m not doing this again! I’m not going to let you apologize for him anymore,” she says and levels a glare up at Arlon.

“Bri,” Arlon says, and it’s only then I see the mountain start to crumble. He opens his mouth, but can’t seem to find the words.

Bridgette gives a short, bitter laugh. “I’m too angry to talk to you right now.” She steps down the road towards Straetham, grabbing Garrett’s hand as she does. “Let’s go home.”

Garrett doesn’t follow, and Bridgette looks back at him, her face falling. “What is it?”

“I can’t.” He sounds so very tired. “I’ve been confined to the Crux.”

“What?”

Garrett puts his hands on her shoulders. “Bri, I’ve put all of us at risk,” he says. “Diran enchanted me on the road. Had me deliver a teleportation to Lucien and Jaret. I leveled a city square.” He cups her cheek and says, “Confinement at the Crux is a slap on the wrist compared to what I thought was in store for me.”

Bridgette’s hand covers her mouth with a hand, eyes wide with horror. “Oh, gods.”

Arlon reaches out. It’s a rare time I see him hesitate, but he pauses uncertainly before he rests a hand on Bridgette’s shoulder. She tenses but doesn’t pull away. “Please Bri, come inside.”

She looks between the two of them, her eyes spilling over. She wipes the tears away like she’s mad at them. “Fine. But this isn’t over, Arlon.”

Arlon nods before risking a quick kiss to her cheek. Her scowl doesn’t soften. Garrett wraps an arm around her shoulder and kisses the top of her head. She grabs his shirt as she sinks against him, and only then does that anger fade.

Arlon steps up to the moat and reaches for a focus on his necklace. It sparks bright white, and the shield around the Crux responds, pulsing like a heartbeat. I look on in awe as the Grandmaster lifts his hand, and the mechanism of the drawbridge clanks to life. The bridge lowers, and behind it, the portcullis starts to rise.

The light of the shield around the towers flashes bright before an opening appears, like a curtain parting. The drawbridge falls into place with a thud. The gates open, and the shield parts to let us through.

But I can’t look away from Arlon. Even beaten and bruised, he’s radiant, face illuminated by the light of the focus between his fingers. Power pours from him, but as the glow starts to fade, he staggers. It’s easy to forget sometimes that he’s still just a person, same as the rest of us.

I hurry to support him, pulling his arm over my shoulders. He leans heavily against me as we make our slow way across the drawbridge.

“Thank you, Dominai.”

20

HEALING TOUCH

Theory need not be at the forefront of a casting. Sometimes, a spell can be as simple as listening to your conduit and fulfilling a need they haven’t been able to fulfill elsewhere. Never forget that magic is personal.

Magic Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

*Please note this chapter contains brief mentions of rape and working through sexual trauma.

The next morning, the entire Crux shows up for breakfast, hoping for some kind of announcement. The whole place must have heard the portcullis rise last night because Olbric and Galiva had found me as I made it to the stairs of the divination tower. They’d begged for the story, and though I’d told them some, I left the rest for Arlon.

He doesn’t disappoint. When Arlon sweeps into the mess hall, Garrett and Bridgette flank him. His face is still bruised, but he’s walking easier today. Someone must have tended to his injuries.

There is an uptick of chatter as he heads towards the front, but it dies as quick as it started when he turns to face the room.

“I’m sure rumor has already started to travel, so I will make this brief,” Arlon says. “Yesterday at the execution of Jaret Voss and Lucien Carter, the city square was attacked by Diran Barclay. There were no casualties, but in the chaos, Jaret and Lucien were able to escape.”

There are a few murmurs, a collective groan, and I realize that folks must have been holding out hope for their recapture. Wish I could say we had, but the second they got hold of those focuses, we were already too late.

“Diran used a proxy to accomplish this,” Arlon continues. “Master Garrett was attacked on the road back from Belingrad where he was aiding in the aftermath of an earthquake. He was held captive for five days before he was sent under thrall of enchantment to Straetham to deliver teleportation spells to Lucien and Jaret.”

Every eye in the room turns to the half-orc, but Garrett keeps his own on the floor in front of him. He’s noticeably calmer today. In spite of the eyes on him, he seems at ease compared to the panicked wretch he’d been last night. He stands with his hands clasped in front of him, and it’s only then I notice the leather collar fastened around his neck, partially hidden by the fabric of his shirt and robe.

“By order of the Crown, Garrett is confined to the Crux until further notice,” Arlon continues. “And during this time, we will be studying the enchantment that Diran used to control him.” He pauses and looks around the room, meeting every eye. “By necessity, the requests I made before the execution have changed. Until further notice, outward excursions are prohibited unless I specifically clear them.”

The outcry is immediate, but Arlon holds up a hand. “I understand that this is unfair,” he says. “But by sending one of our own to carry out his dirty work, Diran has gotten exactly what we wanted. He has damaged the trust and our standing with Straetham. He has turned the public’s attitude against us.” His voice takes on an authoritative edge. “Anyone who was in the square yesterday can tell you what it’s like to stare down an angry crowd, and I fear what would happen if one of us met a group of them outside of the Devilish Boar. So, I repeat, any trips outside of the Crux must be cleared by me until further notice.”

Arlon looks around the room, his severe expression only made worse by his bruised face. “Captain Thora of the Royal Guard informed me in no uncertain terms that we will be monitored in the coming months. There will be representatives of the Crown here weekly, so I expect everyone to be on their best behavior during these visits and to keep any casting out of their sight.”

He lets out a small sigh, the exhaustion written plain on his face. “This is not a punishment. This is a precaution. We have already seen too many of our own hurt by Diran Barclay, and now he has two of his wizards back in his service. That alone warrants caution, but with tensions in Straetham as they are, I believe that the safest course of action is for all of us to lay low.”

There are murmurs of affirmations, though the agreements are much more vocal from the folks who had been in the square. We had heard the anger from the crowd. I want nothing more than to stay in the safety of the Crux after all that happened yesterday.

“Please,” Arlon says. “Take care of yourselves, and take care of one another. Now, more than ever.”

Throughout the hall, the quiet, somber talk murmurs like a river as soon as Arlon steps down. He offers me a wan smile as he passes, and while Garrett follows close behind him, Bridgette breaks off.

“‘Scuse me, Gal,” she says as she scoots into the small space on the bench between us. I move over to give her some room and end up stuck between Olbric and her with nowhere else to go.

“So, you’re the one who snapped my husband out of it?” Bridgette asks. This close, I can see that her eyes are a pretty blue-gray, and they’re focused intently on me. She has silver hair that hangs straight down to her waist and a long, pretty face that is gently etched with laugh and frown lines alike.

“Y-yes ma’am,” I say, taken aback. Olbric’s only managed to scoot a little, so her face is just a couple of inches from mine. Her attention makes my heart thud a quick rhythm in my chest.

She reaches out, her fingers trailing over my necklace before she picks out another casting of the enchantment me and Arlon made. I don’t know how she managed to pick it out, but she pinches it between her pointer finger and thumb.

“Hmm.” She lets go and looks at me with new appreciation before she smiles. “Well, thank you, Dominai. My husband and lover are both safe because of you. Since it looks like I’m going to be more of a fixture at the Crux for the time being, I’ll have to find a way to repay you.”

I open my mouth to protest, but she leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek, silencing whatever thought I had. Then, as quickly as she appeared, she gets up and heads out of the mess hall. I blink in surprise and watch her go, a little stunned.

“You’ve never really met Bridgette, have you?” Galiva asks, sounding amused.

“Sure haven’t.” I rub the spot on my cheek where she kissed me, and swear I still feel the warmth of it. I look towards the door, but Bridgette’s already gone. Instead, I see Alix get up from his seat near the door and quietly leave.

I only catch a glimpse of his face, but it hurts to think of him confronting that sort of pain alone. I kiss Olbric’s head as I get up.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later, alright?”

Olbric follows my gaze before he grabs my hand. He brings my fingers to his lips as he murmurs something like a prayer, and his smile is sad when he looks up at me. “Go on, then.”

I kiss Galiva’s cheek before I hurry out of the mess hall after Alix. I catch sight of him on the stairs to the abjuration tower, but he doesn’t make it far. On the fourth stair up, everything must catch up to him. A sob breaks out of him, and he sags against the wall before sliding to sit, burying his face in his hands.

I walk over and take a seat on the stair beside him. Cautiously, I put a hand on his shoulder, and when he leans into me, I take it as permission to wrap my arms around him. There’s nothing to say so I just let him get it out. This has rattled all of us, but I can’t imagine what Alix must be feeling.

His grief seems to shed its own heat. It takes a few long moments, but eventually, he cries himself out. Red-eyed and exhausted, he leans slumped against my shoulder before he finally speaks.

“I’m having a hard time, Dom.”

I tighten my arms around him. I’m not here to judge. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He lets out a long breath as he wipes his face. For a moment, I’m not sure if he’ll answer. It takes a long time for him to muster the words.

“When I first got back to the Crux, I didn’t want anyone touching me,” Alix says at last. “I wanted comfort, but I... didn’t know how to get it anymore. Lucien broke whatever capacity I had for trust, and I got so tired of seeing everyone’s pity that I started to avoid them altogether. It was easier just to stay away.”

“You were hurting,” I say. “You are hurting. You were trying to protect yourself.”

“Is foregoing every relationship I had in the Crux protecting myself?” he asks. “Is committing myself to loneliness protecting myself?”

“In a way. Who can hurt the person that doesn’t let anyone get close?”

Alix gives a short, bitter laugh. “You sound like Arlon.” He sighs and rubs his face, but he doesn’t pull out of my arms. “One of the hardest parts of being back is feeling like I don’t have anyone to go to. Allis has Margeurite, Iona has Thaddius and Ambra, Marvin has Fey, and Olbric has you and Galiva.” He buries his face in his hands. “And the worst part is, I have no one to blame but myself.”

“That’s not true,” I say. “You could blame Lucien, Diran, and Jaret.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he mutters. “Even before the cave, I never really… found someone to lean on, you know? Before the cave, I was a caster to be reckoned with, but I had a reputation for being… aloof. I could take a wizard, use them, and toss them aside just like they wanted me to. I had plenty of casting partners, but nothing much deeper than that, and I understood why people moved on when I couldn’t give what they needed.”

“What do you mean?”

Alix sighs. “I don’t cast the same way you all do. When I have the choice, I don’t let anyone penetrate me. And I don’t have much desire to penetrate anyone else.”

I blink in surprise. I vaguely remember Alix and Olbric talking during Cancassi’s transmutation lesson, but it hadn’t really registered at the time. It makes a whole lot of other questions pop up, but the first one that comes out is, “Why?”

Alix shrugs. “It’s just how I’m made. Tried it a couple of times, and it… does nothing for me. You, on the other hand, seem willing to fuck anyone that consents to it.”

“How ashamed my hometown is of me,” I say. Alix lets out a small laugh, and I look at him with new appreciation. “Can I ask how? You’re a master five times over. I just… I want to understand how it is for you.”

Alix catches my eye, and this close, I can see they’re the color of warm honey. He tugs at his earlobe before he says, “It’s all mental for me. I fall into a headspace, same as anyone else. With casting, I liked seeing my conduit’s torment and pleasure. I liked the… reverence that came with being this forbidding, almost dangerous kind of caster. I enjoyed molding someone to do whatever it was I wanted.” He has a far off look on his face when he adds, “Even before the cave, I didn’t conduit often, but… I liked the silence that came when I fell deep into it. For a least a little while, all the chatter in my head just shut the fuck up.” He buries his head in his hands. “Ever since I heard Lucien had escaped, that chatter’s been screaming.”

“I get it,” I say. “The silver does that for me. I started asking Margeurite to let me float for a while before she starts. Lets me clear my head.” Arlon’s done it a couple of times too when he’s fucked every last thought out of me, but I keep that to myself. “Is there anything I can do to help quiet it down?”

Alix is silent for a long moment, his face buried in his hands. “I just want to feel safe again,” he says. “I want to feel like I can let my guard down.” He rubs his eyes, the knot bobbing in his throat. “Galiva’s told me how you walked her through the silver. She suggested I ask you to work through one with me. Would you… be willing to try?”

I’m afraid I’ll frighten him off if I seem too eager. “Of course I will.” But when he looks up, he almost seems surprised. Like I’d reject him. I get to my feet and smile as I offer him a hand. “Let’s talk.”

We go to the comfortable alcove at the base of the Illusion tower to talk it out. I want to be sure I understand the boundaries because the last thing I want to do is overstep. Alix lays them out clear, like he’s had to say this to every casting partner. But as he does, I start to get an idea.

When I tell him what it is, his face lights up. “That sounds perfect,” he breathes. It makes me feel warm from the inside out to hear a hint of excitement in his voice.

We head towards the abjuration tower together. I follow him up the stairs to the third floor. He leads me down the hall and opens the door to one of the casting rooms. Maybe I’ve just been on edge since the chaos in the city center, but movement from the lone bed makes me jump.

It’s Orabelle. She whirls to look at us, eyes red. Alix freezes, hand still on the knob. “Oh,” he says. “Sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be using this one.”

Orabelle gets to her feet, wiping her face discreetly on the sleeve of her robe. “No, it’s fine. I’m not using it,” she says. “I’ll leave.”

She heads for the door, but Alix says, “It’s Orabelle, right? You can stay if you want.”

The way he says it almost sounds like pleading, and I wish I had thought to suggest a monitor. Trust isn’t easy for him, and I don’t blame him for wanting to have someone else there.

For a second, she looks like she might decline. Her hazel eyes search Alix’s face before her own softens into a small smile. “Sure.”

Alix returns it and lets out a breath before he turns to look at me. He’s nervous enough that it drowns the hint of excitement I saw during our talk. His shoulders are held tense, teeth clenched so tight that the muscles in his jaw twitch. I move behind him and squeeze his shoulders gently, kneading the tension out of them like Margeurite does with me after putting me in the silver. It takes a long moment before he relaxes some.

“Ready?” I ask.

Alix lets out a long breath. “Guess we’ll find out.”

“You say stop, I cut you loose. No questions asked.”

“I know.”

I smile and give his shoulders one more squeeze. “Go get comfortable.”

As he does, I head to the hearth and toss another log onto the fire that Orabelle started. It’s cold and gray outside, but maybe this will help chase the pall away. I head to the cabinet next and sort through the ropes, grabbing the soft cotton ones that glide through my fingers.

When I turn, Alix is wearing nothing but his underthings. The light of the fire gleams off of his copper skin, and for a second, I’m struck by how beautiful he is. He’s well muscled, his broad chest tapering into a slender waist. But how he holds himself speaks volumes. He sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his chest like he’s trying to cover himself.

I come up behind him, brushing a hand over his shoulder that’s managed to tense itself back up again.

“Ready?” I ask again.

Alix lets out a long breath. “I’m ready.”

I smile and uncoil my length of rope. I start at his wrists, binding them together before pulling them up and over his head. I tie his forearms together behind his neck, leaving his bent elbows by his ears. It keeps his arms out of the way, exposing his chest.

I debate tying a harness but decide against it. I want access to as much of his skin as I can. Instead, I take a new coil and move down to loop the middle of my rope around his waist.

“Stand up for me?”

Alix gets to his feet, stiff as a board. I loop the rope around his waist before tying an overhand knot to give him a belt. I tie the ropes into more overhand knots, spacing them in even intervals down his thighs and shins. I take another rope and weave it around Alix’s waist before threading it through the space between my knots. When I pull tight, it tugs the ropes into a diamond pattern that keeps Alix’s legs bound together. I lace him up all the way to his ankles before I’m finished.

I straighten up with a smile and can’t help but admire my handiwork. Alix stands precariously, wobbling for balance.

“You’re alright?” I ask.

It’s a restrictive tie, but that’s what he asked for. He’s still tense, but he offers me a small, wavering smile. “Fine so far.”

“Good.”

Without warning, I push him back onto the bed. He yelps as he falls, landing on the soft bed with a quiet “oof.” I kneel over him and feel him tense. It’s got to be hard for him to be this vulnerable, but he’s working through it well so far.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I promise. “But I’m also not going to treat you like you’ll break, ‘cause you won’t. You’re strong, Alix.”

Alix relaxes a little and gives a small smile. “Thanks.” The nerves are still there, but he seems far calmer now that we’ve actually started. “I’m okay.”

“Good.”

I take the fresh focuses from my pocket before sliding them over his fingers, three to each hand. It’s a bit of a thrill to see them spark with charge on contact, and even more to hear Alix’s quiet gasp. I smile as I grab his arm and pull him to sit as I move behind him.

My fingers trail over his back, but I frown when I notice the dark scars that cross his skin. I can’t help but trace them, following the uneven lines that mar his beautiful skin. Remnants of his time in the cave. A single tail whip or a cane, I assume, brought down with enough force to flay.

It makes my blood boil - even Olbric doesn’t allow folks to scar him. I trace a long one that stretches from his shoulder to halfway down his back, and Alix shivers so hard that I’m afraid he’ll topple over. I can see him straining against the ropes, trying to pull his arms down to protect his exposed core.

I steady him as I start to pepper gentle kisses and nips over the back of his neck and shoulders. I hear his breath hitch, feel him tense.

“You’re alright,” I murmur. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I sure as hell am going to make you squirm.”

I tease my fingers down his sides and feel him twitch, a hesitant laugh escaping him. It’s such an endearing sound that I can’t help but do it again. Alix laughs in earnest this time, and I keep it up until he’s writhing, trying to escape as best as he can - which is to say, not very well. When I pull my fingers away, he slumps against me, too relieved to be tense.

I keep my lips pressed against his skin before I settle my hand around his throat. I don’t choke, but I tighten my grip just a little as I lean him back against my chest. A controlled sort of pressure that wrings a quiet groan out of him. I trail my fingers lightly down the underside of his arm and feel him shiver, goosebumps rising over his skin.

“How are you feeling?”

It’s a second before he answers, like he has to drag himself out of it. “Good,” he breathes. “I’m good.”

“Good.”

I continue my teasing exploration, moving across his chest to pinch and tug at his nipples. I trace his hip, following the line of his underwear, though I don’t dip underneath it. Alix had made it clear that I wasn’t allowed to go underneath what clothes he decided to keep on. That’s alright though. He’s left me plenty to explore.

I lower him onto his back before I crouch over him again. I can tell that me hovering over him makes him uneasy, but he doesn’t seem afraid as I stroke his cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask.

He runs his tongue over his lips. “Yes.”

I smile and press my lips against his, swallowing his gasp. I’d been a bit surprised when Alix said he enjoyed kissing. He says it’s the intimacy that appeals to him more than the tongue does, so I make sure to keep the latter to a minimum. I nip gently at his bottom lip, dragging it between my teeth as I enjoy the feel of his soft skin against mine.

I reach down and trail my fingers up over his thigh, feeling where the ropes bite against his skin. As soon as I get close to the crux of his legs, he tenses, his eyes shooting wide. His muscles strain against the ropes in an automatic urge to flee. I still my hand, but don’t move it away. He specifically asked me to touch him here, though seeing him snap out of it so abruptly makes me want to step back. Reset.

I fight the impulse before I lean down to gently peck his lips. “You’re alright,” I promise. “No one’s going to hurt you.” I trail my fingers down the side of his thighs before I fold his knees and tickle the underside as well.

He yelps as his eyes go wide. I don’t let up, holding his legs steady as he squirms helplessly. I wring another anguished laugh out of him, and I’m real glad that tickling wasn’t off the table. He asked for gentle sensation play, so I’m pulling out my tricks - even the mean ones. I focus on the spot a bit longer until a few whimpers start to make it into the helpless laughter. I can’t help but smile at the sound of it.

When I finally let up, he’s panting, and thoroughly back into it. His hazy smile is aimed up at me, and even though I try to do it gently, he yelps as I push him onto his side before I roll him onto his front. He wiggles as best as he’s able, forehead pressed against the bed.

“You’re cute when you squirm,” I murmur as I straddle his waist. I can’t see his face, but I feel him tense. I don’t let him settle into that fear before my fingers tickle under his arms. He shrieks, and I’m glad I waited until he was pinned before I aimed there. He bucks and writhes underneath me with surprising strength.

“Gods, he’s a feisty one,” I tease.

“No! No more!” he laughs, and only then do I let up. His laughter fades to breathless panting, and I kiss my way across his skin. The tickling warmed him up, but when I brush my lips over the scars on his back, he shivers, gooseflesh breaking out over his skin.

I lay down behind him and tuck my own erection out of the way so I don’t distract either of us. I pull him onto his side, snug against my chest. He’s limp, all the tension laughed out of him.

I stroke his chest, and lean forward to nibble at his earlobe. I’m not trying to tickle him, but he gives a quiet giggle all the same. Seems like I’ve gotten his sensations all crossed. I move onto his neck instead, nipping and sucking gently at his skin. He shudders as he lets out a groan of pleasure.

I pull away so I can drag my nails down his back, just hard enough to leave lines. I follow them with my tongue and lips, tasting the salt on his skin. He gasps and arches in his ropes, shivering for an entirely different reason now. It’s a thrill to know that I’m doing something he likes.

Only when he’s limp in the ropes do I let my hands trek lower again. He tenses, an automatic reaction it seems, but I murmur quiet comforts into his ear as I massage the mounds of his ass.

“Don’t make me tickle you again,” I tease.

Alix lets out a huff of a laugh, but it’s enough to snap his thoughts away from the dark place they were trying to go.

I keep massaging his ass through his underthings. It’s funny how much tension hides in those strong muscles, and I learned from Margeurite how good it feels to have them worked out. He lets out a soft moan before he relaxes. It lets me work the muscles in earnest, and I continue until he’s limp and groaning in pleasure.

From there, I let my fingers wander. I trail them lightly over his arms and down his bound legs. He leans his head back against my shoulder, and I place my free hand around his throat once more to hold him there. I squeeze gently, and he lets out a low groan, going limp as a kitten. Even though my fingers go wherever they please, Alix doesn’t tense up again.

I brush my lips against the shell of his ear as I ask, “Alix? How do you feel?”

He lets out a long, contented sigh. “Quiet.”

I smile and stroke my thumb down his neck. “I’ll keep going as long as you want me to.”

Alix sighs again. “Just a little while longer.”

I kiss the spot between his shoulder blades and settle in comfortably behind him. My hands continue to wander and with him snug against my chest, I can feel every shiver and twitch. When I find an area that gets a reaction out of him, I go over it again, brushing light as air before dragging down it with my nails, scratching gently.

Goosebumps prickle over his skin twice more; when I scrape my teeth against his ear, and blow softly against the back of his neck. My quiet murmuring seems to do it, too. Even though most of what I’m mumbling is just quiet praise, he shivers, as if the sound of my voice alone does something to him.

A quiet moan escapes him, and it makes my heart soar to hear the sound. To know that I’m doing something he enjoys. When our fire starts to die down, he lets out a long, contented sigh.

“I think I’m ready to be freed,” he says at last, and his quiet words bring me out of my own comfortable kind of daze.

I kiss his shoulders again before I sit up and stretch. This was more relaxing than I thought casting could be. A very different kind of fun. I sit him up again before I start to untie the ropes, freeing his arms first, then his legs.

He stretches his arms out with a sigh, and I rub the marks that I left on his skin. “How was that?” I ask.

Alix gives a small laugh as he lays back on the bed. “Amazing.”

“I’m glad.”

I beam as I scoot behind him, and for a long moment, we just lay there, his back against my chest. Then he rolls to face me and slides the focuses off of his fingers. I’m a little surprised to see that all six of them are charged. He closes my hand around three of them before he presses a kiss to my fingers. His eyes are glossy as he smiles. I know this is only a step down a long road for him, but I’m glad I was able to help him take it. I pull him into a tight embrace as I kiss his cheek.

Alix sighs as he nuzzles against the crook of my neck. “Thank you, Dom.”

“It was my pleasure.”

I hold him until he starts to stir, gently detangling himself from my arms. I almost want to pull him back, but instead, I kiss his cheek and extract myself to gather his clothes for him. While he dresses, I start to clean up. As I coil up the ropes, movement from the corner catches my attention.

I blink in surprise as Orabelle gets to her feet. She was so quiet, and I’d been so lost in Alix that I’d completely forgotten she was there. She approaches the bed as Alix pulls his shirt on.

“I’ve never seen a spell like that before,” she says.

“You’ve been casting under Arlon, right?” She nods, and Alix chuckles. “He is a particular kind of caster.”

Orabelle gives a small laugh. “He sure is.” She rubs her arm uncertainly as she says, “Would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About this type of casting, that is.”

Alix looks at her in surprise, and I can tell he’s still trying to work off the haze of the spell. It takes him a second, but when he does, he smiles. “Of course.”

I finish cleaning up and walk over to kiss the top of his head. “I’ll let you two talk,” I say. “Can I check on you later?”

Alix looks up at me before he pulls me down into a gentle kiss. “Of course,” he says. “Seriously Dom, thank you.”

I smile against his lips. “I’d love to do that again,” I say. “Any time you want.”

21

A GOOD DAY'S REST

Illusion involves altering your conduit’s senses, whether that’s by taking them away or manipulating them through other means. Though it is considered a higher risk casting method, narcotics can be used during casting.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

*Please note this chapter contains consensual drugging and consensual sex with an unconscious person.

Spirits around the Crux remain subdued as the week treks on. Olbric is quiet and moody, and it’s hard not to take it personally, even though I know it has nothing to do with me. Galiva reminds me of a trapped mountain lion. After going from an overload of work at the clinic to none at all, she’s anxious and restless.

I’ve only caught sight of Arlon a couple of times, and when I do, he seems to be in a hurry. He’s left the Crux more than once to go into town, and I can’t help but wonder what sort of fires he’s having to put out with Straetham. Besides the occasional meal time, I haven’t seen heads or tails of Garrett or Bridgette, either.

The drawbridge has been raised for five days now, save for the changing of the shifts. I think all of us are starting to feel closed in, and even though the weather’s only getting colder, all I want to do is go outside for a walk. Instead, I head towards the rear courtyard just as the sun starts to rise.

It’s already busy. I’ve come to realize that even if wizards do, the Crux never truly sleeps. The cooks are getting started on breakfast, and the smell of baking sweet bread makes my stomach rumble as I get close to the kitchens.

“Morning, Dom.” I smile at the little cook Felicity as she pushes the swinging door of the kitchen open, letting out a gust of hot air in her wake. She’s got a tray stacked with pastries, so fresh they steam in the cool morning air. “Want one before I take them in?”

I grab one with a word of thanks. “I hope Paulette is paying you well,” I say around a mouthful.

The Chamberlain had made a good choice hiring her on. On top of baking the best pastries I’ve ever tasted, she doesn’t shy away from talking to us like some of the folks who work the Crux do.

Felicity chuckles and says, “Wouldn’t have made the trip from out east if she didn’t. The fact that folks around here appreciate my baking is just an extra bonus.” She waves the tray at me until I take another pastry before she disappears through the back door of the mess hall.

I finish the one I started as I make my way towards the stables. During the summer, I went on a few rides with Cancassi in the woods around the Crux, and though I still can’t hold myself the right way in a saddle, I sure do like Mo. As I approach his stall, the bay horse perks up and saunters over to the rail.

“Don’t have anything for you today, pal.” I scratch the white star on his face and feel how woolly his winter coat has already gotten. He sniffs at me and nearly nabs my other pastry with his dexterous lips. “Hey! Fuck off, you’ve got your breakfast right over there.”

Behind me, a musical laugh rings out. “After giving him apples all summer, it’s no wonder he’s gotten so lippy with you.” I turn and smile at Cancassi as they step out of the arch of the stables. They push Mo’s head away when he goes to sniff at the pastry again. “Hoping to break out back here? It’s useless. I already checked. Arlon’s locked the place down tight.”

I give a small laugh. “Damn. My afternoon plans are ruined.” I hold my leftover pastry out in offering. “Hoping to sneak out for a ride?

Cancassi takes it with a smile and pulls their scarf down. “I sure would like to,” they say. “But I don’t think Arlon would even let us go in pairs right now. Hate to say it, but I can’t really blame him.”

A pall descends as Cancassi pulls off a bit of pastry. They don’t eat it.

“How are you faring?” I ask gently.

“Tired,” they say. “I’m not sleeping well.”

That much I can tell at a glance, and it’s not just because of the bags under their eyes. Their shoulders are slumped, their entire demeanor subdued. They usually braid their white hair, but it hangs loose now. Instead of any of the fine clothes I helped carry down to their new room, they’re wearing their coat over a wrinkled winter dress.

“Your leg?”

“And everything else,” Cancassi says with a sigh. “Now that the bastards are free again, I swear it’s been hurting worse. Galiva’s given me more tincture, but…”

“But what?”

Cancassi finally takes the small bite of pastry from their fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“I doubt that.”

They sigh, but I let the silence stretch as they decide how to get it out. “The stuff knocks me out so hard that as soon as it starts to drag me under, I…” It takes them a second to find the right words. “I get this ominous feeling in my stomach. Like somehow they’re going to come and break through the perimeter. It’s... difficult to shake. I fall asleep afraid, thinking that I’ll be helpless as a kitten when they get to me.”

“Fucking hell, Cass. That sounds terrifying.”

Cancassi shrugs, but I can see the shadows under their eyes. “It’s enough that even though I’m out cold, I don’t actually rest. I wake up feeling worse than I did when I went to sleep.”

I frown and lean against Mo’s stall as Cancassi takes another small bite of pastry. “Have you had someone stay with you?”

Cancassi gives a small huff of a laugh. “My day usually ends when you all are getting up,” they say. “Who wants to waste a day looking over an anxious sleeper?”

“If it got you a full night’s rest - day’s rest? Then it wouldn’t be a waste.”

Cancassi glances at me out of the corner of their copper eyes. “I’d say that sounds rather nice. Are you offering?”

I smile at that. “Only if you’re accepting.”

Cancassi chuckles and drags their fingers through their hair. “Alright then, Dominai. Let’s get ready for bed.”

I convince Cancassi to let me pamper them a bit. While they go draw a bath in their room, I swing by the kitchens and ask Felicity for a mug of warm milk before I mix a spoonful of honey into it.

When I make it to their room and hand it over, Cancassi gives me an amused look.

“What’s this?”

“Something that will help you sleep, I promise,” I say. “Just some warm milk and honey.”

Cancassi takes a sip before humming in appreciation. “Is this a human trick I haven’t been made aware of?”

I shrug and walk with them to the bath where steaming water is already rising from the glowing pool. Arlon’s kept the abjuration shields raised around the towers, so the magiline tub, floor, and walls of Cancassi’s room shine with magic, a calm, clean light. It gives their room the illusion of being filled with the morning sun shining through water.

“Just a thing my mother used to do,” I say. “I used to have trouble sleeping as a kid.”

Cancassi sets the mug on a short table by the bath where a small glass bottle rests. “Why was that?” they ask before letting their dress slip off their shoulders.

I turn away automatically before realizing how silly that is. Not like I haven’t seen them naked before. It’s something about being alone with them in their room makes me feel like I’m looking when I shouldn’t be.

“I was an anxious kid,” I say. “Was scared of damn near everything on top of being terrified of the dark. Still not fond of it now.”

Cancassi gives a small laugh. “Really?” They let their dress slip down their hips, and I know from experience that Cancassi doesn’t bother with underthings. I offer them a hand as they step down into the bath.

“Surprised?” I ask. “Don’t know why. I’m only a slightly less anxious adult.”

“I disagree with that,” Cancassi snorts. They groan as they sink into the water before resting their head against the lip of the pool. “You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

I flush at that, and Cancassi smiles before beckoning me in with a long finger. “Bath’s big enough for two people - I’ve tested it.”

They don’t need to ask me twice. I strip off my clothes to join them. Winter’s only gotten colder, and I’m happy to soak till I’m wrinkly to avoid going out into it. I slip into the space behind them, letting my legs rest on either side of them. They recline, their back resting comfortably against my chest.

I reach up behind me and grab the mug before offering it to them. Cancassi accepts it with a word of thanks before taking another sip. “Fearing the dark is such an odd concept to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Maeve can see in the dark,” they say. “We lose color, but the details are just as sharp. Our most active hours happen under the stars.”

“I’ve wondered about that,” I say, glad to have my guess finally confirmed. “You sleep, what, five hours or so?”

“Someone’s been paying attention,” Cancassi says. “It’s true, though. I’ve learned to be flexible with my sleep living here, but I usually go to sleep after second bell. Five hours is about average, though Galiva’s tincture pushes me closer to six.”

“Those extra hours must be nice,” I say as I start to finger comb their hair. “And having some time to yourself at night? That sounds great.”

Cancassi sighs contentedly before taking another sip from their mug. “Most of the time it is. Nights have gotten… harder, recently. I keep walking the parapet. I know we’re locked down, but it helps me feel better.”

I slide my arms around their waist. “I’m sorry.”

Cancassi sinks into my arms with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

We fall quiet for a long moment, lulled by the warmth of the water and each other’s company. I wash their hair and lean them back to rinse it, gently combing through the wet strands with my fingers until I get the tangles out. We stay in a little longer as Cancassi sips at their mug. Once it’s empty, they set it on the side of the pool and reach up to grab the glass bottle from the table.

“Thank you for doing this,” they say. “I think that everything else will come a little easier if I could just get a good day’s sleep.”

I pull their wet hair away to kiss the back of their neck. “That’s the hope. How do you feel?”

Cancassi gives a small laugh. “Exhausted.” They roll the bottle between their long fingers. “Doesn’t seem fair that you’ll be sitting here doing nothing for the better part of the day.”

“I don’t mind - really,” I say. “I’ll be fine.”

Cancassi hums thoughtfully. They seem to be considering something, and I wring the excess water from their hair before they finally get it out. “What if I gave you permission to touch me while I sleep?”

My hands freeze. “What?”

Cancassi tilts their head to look up at me, and my breath catches. With their wet hair slicked back, their pointed ears stand out. The distinctly non-human angles of their face look almost unreal in the shimmering light of the bath.

“Don’t worry, you won’t wake me. Galiva’s tincture knocks me out cold. Besides, I think having a kind hand on me might help keep my dreams on the pleasant side,” they say, the implication heavy in their teasing tone.

I let out a long breath and lift my wet hand to rub my face. “What… kind of touching?”

Cancassi’s grin turns sly as they sit up to whisper their idea in my ear. The heat of the bath does nothing to hide the blush that floods my face. I know they can feel my cock stir against their back as they lay it out. The idea of it is definitely doing something to me, but it feels like a step too far. Not to mention, the amount of trust Cancassi would be putting in me makes the old casting anxiety ramp up again.

“I don’t know, Cass,” I admit. “The whole point is to get you a good night’s sleep, and that seems pretty at odds.”

Cancassi chuckles and kisses my chin. “You can do what you are comfortable with.” They shrug. “I won’t know one way or another until I wake up.”

I shiver at the thought of that. “I’ll think about it.”

Cancassi pulls the cork from the bottle. “You’ll have plenty of time. If you do, there are a couple of empty focuses in my drawer you should use. I’d be curious what manner of spell it will make. You can use whatever toys are in there, too.”

I make a noncommittal noise even though my head is racing with possibilities. I shove the temptation aside. “Maybe once you’re awake.”

“As you wish,” they say before looking distastefully at the bottle. “On top of everything else, this stuff also tastes terrible.”

They pour a bit of it into the hollowed out top of the cork and down it like a shot of grain alcohol. They do that once more before they put the cork back in place. I take the bottle from them and return it to the table as Cancassi grabs the lip of the tub to get to their feet. The hot soak does seem to help with their hip. They move a little easier as they slip out of the water. I follow them out, and Cancassi offers me a towel before wrapping one around their shoulders.

They dry off as they pad barefoot into their bedroom. I follow them out and blink at the shock of light. While the bathroom only glowed from the magiline bath and floor, their room rests along the outer wall of the main tower. The glowing stone sends dancing light skittering across the room. There’s one glass-paned window that’s been covered by a heavy curtain, but it doesn’t do anything to block the light that emanates from the wall and the parts of the floor that Cancassi hasn’t covered with blankets.

The Maeve drops their towel, and my breath catches. Something about the way the light dances over their body makes it a challenge to pull my eyes away. They turn, the pitted scar that covers their hip and thigh standing out against their porcelain skin as they sit on the edge of their bed. They stretch their bad leg out in front of them.

“This can’t be helping your sleep,” I say and blink to adjust my eyes to the light.

Cancassi looks sheepish as they rub the muscles of their thigh. “I’ve started sleeping with a blindfold on. It’s not so bad.”

I doubt that, but I settle on the bed next to them as they pull a comb from the drawer beside their bed.

“Can I?” I ask.

“You really are set on pampering me,” they chuckle but hand the comb over all the same. It’s beautiful - made of a pearly substance that I guess must be some kind of shell. I handle it carefully as I drag the teeth through their hair. Their white locks are already starting to dry, and it’s soft as silk under my fingers.

Cancassi lets out a contented little sound before asking, “Do you know how to braid?”

“Afraid not.”

“Here.”

They take the comb from me and use it to split their hair into three more or less even sections. It’s obvious they’ve had a lot of practice, as they make quick work of twining the three pieces together. It’s nothing near as elaborate as what they usually do, but I pay attention to how they do it. Once their hair is half-braided, they hand the pieces to me. I finish the pattern, twining the three strands over one another until I reach the end. It’s not as neat or even as the plaits Cancassi made, but it’s close enough. I tie the end with the strip of leather they hand back to me.

“Not bad for a first timer,” they say and turn to press a gentle kiss against my lips. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

Cancassi yawns and scoots under the covers. “You’ve already done more than enough.”

I smile and slide in next to them, gently rubbing their hip. They let out an appreciative groan as their head falls against the pillow. Already I can see their eyes starting to droop.

“That stuff must hit pretty fast.”

“You were pretty effective at getting me ready,” they say. “Maybe there’s something to your mother’s warm milk trick.”

“It sure used to work on me,” I say as I get comfortable. Their bed is big enough to fit both of us without feeling like we’re going to fall off, which is more than I can say for either mine or Olbric’s. Moving to the divination tower had warranted me a bigger bed and room, but it’s still better equipped for one, while this one seems like it’s meant for a couple.

Cancassi smiles, and their copper eyes are heavily lidded as they move to rest their cheek against my chest. The tincture is doing its job, but they seem at ease.

“Tell me about her,” they say quietly.

I try to smile, but it feels forced. “Who, my mother? There’s not much to tell, really. She left when I was a kid.”

No explanation, no warning. Only a note telling my da not to come looking for her. I had just turned six. In that naive way kids think, I was convinced it was something I had done that drove her away. I don’t want to give Cancassi those bad memories to fall asleep to, so I focus on the good things I remember instead.

“She had the most beautiful green eyes,” I say as I stroke my hand down Cancassi’s hair. “And a voice that could sing birds onto her finger. She had a plant journal that she kept. Used it to teach me my letters, though her cramped script was difficult to make out at times. Everything she planted grew like you wouldn’t believe.”

Cancassi’s eyes flutter closed as they listen to me, a small smile on their face. “She sounds lovely.”

I wish I really knew. It feels like I’m talking about a stranger. Instead, I lean down to kiss the tip of Cancassi’s nose. I find the blindfold resting on their bedside table and drape it over their eyes before tying it gently behind their head.

“Sleep good, Cass. I’ll be right here.”

They settle in as I idly stroke my fingers up to trail around their long, pointed ears. Cancassi shivers under the touch, but the drag of sleep comes quick to pull them under. They weren’t joking about Galiva’s tincture. By the time second bell rings, they’re fast asleep, breathing deep and heavy.

For a little bit, I just watch them. Their face is relaxed, one long-fingered hand curled by their cheek, lips slightly parted. Some folks aren’t pretty sleepers, but Cancassi doesn’t have that problem. In the silvery glow of the Crux, they look unreal, like something out of one of the stories I remember my mother telling me to lull me to sleep. A breathing statue.

I doze, lulled by the quiet room, but the light from the walls makes sleeping difficult. I’m glad that Cancassi has the blindfold. For someone who spends most of their awake time during the night, I doubt the light is helping their already troubled sleep.

Just as Cancassi thought I would, I start to get bored. I wish I had brought a book or something to keep me occupied. But with Cancassi sound asleep against me, I’m afraid to move and disturb them.

Instead, I pull the covers up for a second to get a look at all of them, brushing their spell necklace to the side. My gaze travels from the small swell of their breasts to the soft cock resting between their slender legs. The sight of them makes heat pool in my stomach, and I swear quietly as I put the covers down.

It feels like taking advantage. But Cancassi did give me explicit permission. Even so, I can’t shake the fact that they’re completely unable to stop. It’s a level of control that rivals the silver, but somehow, this feels even more invasive, more… taboo. And godsdamn, if the idea of it isn’t heating me up.

Maybe just a little touch.

I lift the covers up again and reach out to tentatively give their nipple a gentle tug. Cancassi doesn’t so much as stir, though my cock certainly does. Having them so exposed and vulnerable is a heady feeling, and I can’t help but grab onto the mound and give it a squeeze. I watch Cancassi’s face for a reaction, but they’re fast asleep.

Well, apparently I’m not going to wake them up.

I slide out from under Cancassi’s cheek and settle them onto a pillow, carefully guiding them to lay on their back. I brush a stray lock of white hair behind their ear. All the while, their breathing remains deep and even.

“Godsdamn but you’re beautiful.”

I push myself up to kneel over them as I carefully pull the blanket away. Their chest rises and falls with long, deep breaths, and I trail my hand down from their collar to their stomach. Their skin is warm under my fingers, but I notice a shiver of gooseflesh rise under my touch. They let out a deep sigh, and I hope that whatever dreams they’re having are good ones.

I wonder if I can’t make them better.

Leaning down, I press my lips against theirs in a chaste kiss. They’re soft and pliant, and I linger there for a moment longer before moving to their neck. I’m rewarded with another deep sigh, and I smile against their skin as I trail down their collar to their chest.

My lips brush one of their nipples before I draw it into my mouth, sucking gently. I tease it with my tongue and don’t pull away until it’s a darker shade of pink. It’d be silly to leave them as an unmatched pair, so I do the same to the other one, feeling the point harden under my attentions.

Ever since meeting them, I’ve had a bit of a fascination with Cancassi’s body. Equal parts curious and jealous that they can experience sex whichever way they please. And though I’ve seen them naked countless times, I haven’t had a chance to explore them like this.

I pepper gentle kisses down their chest and stomach before I push their legs apart. Their cock lays right where a clit would be on a human woman, and though it’s smaller than mine, it’s perfectly shaped. It rests limp and uncut, haloed by a curly tuft of white hair. I pull back their foreskin to expose the perfectly pink head. As I do, Cancassi shifts their hips as they let out a long breath.

I freeze, afraid of waking them, but their breathing still remains deep and heavy. Their face is still relaxed in sleep. Even so, I leave their cock be and explore a little lower instead.

The slit between their legs is soft and hairless, and I run my fingers down the sensitive skin, just barely pushing through their folds. I tease their entrance before sliding my finger in and groan when I feel how wet they are. Their cock twitches and starts to swell. Apparently their dreams must be getting pretty good.

Fuck, it’s a tempting sight. They’re splayed out, completely exposed, a hint of blush coloring their beautiful face. It’s lewd, but I can’t help but spread their legs a little further, cocking their knees out to tip it into obscene.

“F-fucking hell.”

I have to remind myself that Cancassi gave me permission to do this. It feels wrong to be enjoying it, but I definitely am. My cock throbs, but there’s no need to rush it. I’ve got all afternoon.

I pull my finger free and reach for the bedside drawer. The focuses are in there, along with a few glass toys that make me raise my eyebrow. Cancassi said that I could use whatever I found in the drawer, but it seems like a step too far. Instead, I take the focuses and slide four of them down Cancassi’s long fingers.

Settling back down between their legs again, I scoot close and grip under their hips to angle them up. I move them gently and do my best not to jostle them, but I don’t need to worry. Cancassi is limp, drugged so deep into sleep I don’t think I could wake them if I tried.

I use that to my advantage as I run a long lick down their slit. They taste slightly sweet, and I can’t stop a moan as I dip my tongue into them. I take my time to explore them, tongue working deep as I suck at their folds until my jaw starts to ache.

Cancassi lets out a breathy moan, and I freeze, mouth still closed over their slit. I look up to see that their blindfold has come askew, showing one still-closed eye, but their cheeks are flushed with color, lips parted.

It takes me a second to muster the willpower to pull my mouth away. Cancassi’s quiet moan nearly draws me right back, but I give them a second to cool down, though to be honest, I need it too. I drag my fingers through my hair, feeling the heat surge to my own face when I see Cancassi’s cock fully erect and lying against their stomach. I haven’t really touched it, so it makes me wonder if what I’m doing is perking it up, or if Cancassi’s dreams have taken a nice route.

Either way, I take advantage of it as I lean down and draw their cock into my mouth. I explore their length with the same attention I gave their slit, sliding my mouth down before swallowing them to the root. Even in sleep, their cock twitches, and I hear their breath hitch as I lavish the attention on.

When I finally pull away, their cock is hard and red, a bead of liquid leaking from the tip. The blindfold has slipped the rest of the way off, exposing their flushed face.

My stomach drops. It feels like taking advantage. It feels wrong. But Cancassi said I could, and godsdamn it, I want to.

I war with myself, and I’m not sure if I’ve won or lost when I wind up back between Cancassi’s legs again. I line my cock up with their dripping slit before I ease in. Cancassi doesn’t so much as twitch as I bury myself fully into their wet heat.

I pull almost all the way out before I thrust in again, rolling my hips to reach deeper. Even in sleep, their cunt is tight and slick around my length. I move slow, not wanting to jostle them, and it’s a test of my control not to fuck them into the bed. Instead, I hike up one of Cancassi’s legs and gently maneuver them onto their side. The position allows me to sink deeper, sheathing my cock fully inside of them.

I’m in no hurry, but the feel of Cancassi’s willing slit quickly starts to undo me. I reach around to grab Cancassi’s cock, because even if they’re asleep, they deserve to get off for what they’re doing to me. I speed up, stroking their length in time with my thrusts. Cancassi lets out a quiet groan, and their cock twitches before it erupts, shooting ribbons of white onto their chest and across their sheets.

I press my lips against the inside of their thigh as my own release catches up with me. Stifling my moan against their skin, I bury myself deep as I cum. I haven’t cast since before the execution, and it feels like my balls empty before I’m through. When I pull out, a trickle of my own seed follows me. The haze of pleasure starts to wear off, and I swear as I stare at the mess I’ve made.

I want nothing more than to clean them up, but Cancassi had been specific about that. “I want to be able to see what you’ve done with me,” they had whispered. I shiver as my seed leaks out of them and onto the bed below their splayed legs.

I’d left their bedside drawer open, and the girthy plug inside of it catches my attention. They want to see what I’ve done? Guess I’ll make sure to save it for them. I take the plug and ease it into their slit until it settles into place, sealing the rest of my seed inside of them.

I’m flushed and hot when I finish and look down at Cancassi with wide eyes. Through it all, they’re still sleeping soundly. They still look unreal, but now like a doll that’s been used and dirtied.

Then it hits me. Guilt drops like a cold stone into my stomach. I settle in beside them as I try to calm myself down, burying my head in my hands. It feels like I’m dropping, but I’ve never had it happen when I was casting. I slide close to Cancassi and bury my face against their neck, taking comfort in their steady, even breathing. I’m not sure how long it lasts, but for the duration of it, I’m so overwhelmed with guilt for using Cancassi like this that it nearly paralyzes me.

I ride it out alone, wishing that Cancassi were awake. I hear their musical voice in my head, berating me for being silly. It helps some. I manage to close my eyes, and in spite of the shimmer of light, I doze again.

I wake to the midday bell, feeling a little better. I smile when I see that Cancassi is still sleeping soundly. More of their hair has come loose from my shoddy braid. I push it away from their face even as I start to stir again. Godsdamn idiot cock.

I try to think about anything else for a while. I get up to piss and take a few laps around their room, though it starts to feel like pacing real quick. All the while, my eyes keep traveling back to Cancassi. They’re laying on their side, but between their folded legs, I can see the end of the plug nestled in their slit.

The guilt stays with me as I pull a blanket up to cover them again. I slip onto the bed behind them, staying on top of the covers so I’m not tempted to do anything else. I trail my fingers idly over their body as I try to reassure myself that this was okay. It feels like I’m lying to myself.

I must doze again, because the next time I come around, Cancassi is stirring. I blink to attention and watch as Cancassi rolls onto their back and stretches with a pleased groan. Their copper eyes blink open before landing on me as they give a sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” I say quietly. “Or evening, I guess.”

Cancassi shifts their hips to the left and right before raising an eyebrow at me. “Did you put something in me?” they ask, tone light and teasing.

I flush hot red, my stomach dropping straight into my feet. “I-it was in your drawer,” I say, but it sounds like a weak answer. I knew I was overstepping. I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have done it.

Cancassi wriggles their hips and bites their bottom lip, the haze of sleep shifting to something else. They roll onto their stomach, a long-fingered hand sliding between their legs to touch the base of the plug. Then, they move their fingers further back. “You didn’t use my other hole.”

My mouth goes dry. “No.”

Cancassi gives a sleepy hum and leisurely pulls their legs under them to push their ass up into the air. Their copper eyes shine when they look back at me. “I think you’d better dirty that one, too.”

Fucking hell if that doesn’t make my cock shoot straight to attention again. The guilt vanishes like fog under the morning sun. “Are you sure?”

Cancassi still seems a bit groggy from the tincture, but their golden eyes smolder. “Positive.”

I swear and take the bottle of lotion from the bedside drawer. Cancassi spreads their legs wide in offering even as their long fingers tug at the plug that keeps their slit blocked. The sight of them opened wide and plugged up wrings a desperate groan out of me.

Their hole opens around my fingers, and Cancassi moans as I gently stretch them. I can’t help but let my free hand wander to tug on their nipples a little harder now that they’re awake. They groan appreciatively as they grind back on my hand, fucking steadily onto my fingers.

It snaps my last thread of control. They let out an impatient noise as my fingers retreat, but I’m quick to make up for it. Cancassi moans as I ease into them, and godsdamn but I missed that musical sound. Their long fingers fist in the blankets under them, and I reach around to grab their cock as I work my own into their willing body.

“Dom,” they moan and roll their hips to meet my thrusts. I swear and can’t help but speed up. While they were sleeping, I held back, but not anymore. Now, I help them greet the evening with a good, hard thrust.

Cancassi cries out in pleasure as I spear them deep. Their hand reaches between their legs to grab the end of the plug. There’s a wet sound as they pull the plug free of this slit before pushing it back in, fucking themself with it even as I drive into them. Their hole loosens every time they tug the plug out, only to tighten again when they push it back in. My end is coming on quick, but I want to bring them over first.

My lotion-slicked hand strokes over their cock, and when I rub my thumb over the pink head, Cancassi tenses.

“Yes,” they moan. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

I wouldn’t dare.

It only takes a few more strokes before Cancassi’s whole body tenses. They plunge the plug deep, and I thrust in hard as I pull them against me. Cancassi shouts into the mattress as they cum, their cock erupting over their already soiled sheets. I moan as I follow them over the edge into bliss, emptying myself inside of them once again.

Cancassi moans long and low as they slump against the bed. I wait a moment longer before I ease out of them, giving their ass a squeeze as I do.

“Fucking hell, Cass.”

They lay in their own mess, and when they look back at me, they look well rested and all too pleased.

“Glad you took me up on my offer,” they say. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

I give a small, uncertain laugh. “I think so?”

They give me a curious look. “What do you mean?”

I lay on my side to face them, resting my hand on the curve of their waist. “I… think I dropped. For a bit, I felt so guilty that I couldn’t even move. I just… needed to check in with you, and I couldn’t.”

Cancassi’s long fingers come up to stroke my cheek, and I lean into their touch. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t ask you to,” they say. “In fact, I’d say you performed admirably.”

“I felt like a monster,” I admit. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Softie,” they purr as they pull me into a kiss. “I’m fine. I promise. I knew I could trust you while I slept or else I never would have offered.”

I smile and kiss them again. “How did you sleep?”

They stretch out, and the glisten of their own seed smeared across their chest catches the light. “So good,” they groan before relaxing languidly back onto the bed. “Not to mention, it was a nice wake-up on top of it.”

Seeing the perfect contentment on their face is what finally helps me forgive myself. “I’m glad.”

Cancassi reaches up to stroke my cheek. “Thank you, Dominai.”

I smile and turn my head to kiss their palm. “You’re welcome.”

“Will you do me one last favor?”

“Anything.”

They drag their fingers through the cooling seed on their chest. “Draw another bath for me?”

I laugh at that. “Of course.”

22

ENDURANCE GAMES

The wonderful thing about having someone collared is that you can use them however you please (within the parameters of what your conduit consents to, of course).

Advanced Casting Principles: Collaring by Felix Kessler

*Please note this is an intense chapter that has elements of orgasm delay, cock and ball torture, fisting, cuckolding, cock warming, overstimulation, and brief mentions of sexual assault.

The next morning, I head to Arlon’s office with my collar fastened and my spell notes in my pocket. He hasn’t called this week off even though I half expected him to. No doubt things are chaotic, though I haven’t seen him make any more trips out of the Crux recently. That’s not to say he’s been any more present inside of the Crux either. He’s been gone more than he’s been home, but I still wonder if I shouldn’t have tried to check in with him before now.

Truth be told, I’m a little nervous. There’s no telling what I should expect from today, but I have a feeling it’ll go one of two ways: either I’ll be ignored, or I won’t. I’m not sure which I’m hoping for.

I make sure to grab a fresh cup of kaffa from the kitchens, prepped to Arlon’s liking to start the day right. Yet when I reach his office door, it’s closed. I check that my collar’s on straight before I knock.

Arlon’s deep voice answers. “Come in, Dominai.”

I open the door to find him seated behind his desk as usual, but my attention is immediately drawn to the back corner. Garrett is naked and kneeling, his cuffed wrists linked to the rings of his collar. A tight-fitting leather hood has been pulled over the top half of his face, covering his eyes and ears, and he’s got a familiar muzzle fastened over his mouth. As I step closer, I see that he’s kneeling on a sprinkling of rice.

I tear my eyes away and kneel down by Arlon’s desk to offer him the mug of kaffa. He accepts it without a word and takes a sip. A grin quirks his lips before he runs his hand over my hair.

“Good boy.”

I flush at the praise and rest my cheek against his leg. His fingers idly stroke my hair as he reads through the missives on his desk, and it’s only then I realize how much I’ve needed this. The chaos at the execution rattled me, but not more than seeing Arlon look so beaten down outside of the drawbridge. I scoot closer and bury my face against his thigh.

His hand rests on the back of my head, a comforting weight. “Are you alright, Dominai?”

Gods, but he’s learned how to read me. “Yes, sir. I just… want to be sure you are.”

Arlon cups my chin to pull my head up. The bruises have faded to a yellow spot on his cheek. “I won’t lie to you and say that this hasn’t been a trying week. But I promise I’m fine. A few cracked ribs and a twisted knee are nothing for one of Garrett’s spells.”

I lean into his hand and nod. I can’t shake the feeling that I should have come to see him sooner, but just like on the road back to the Crux with him and Garrett, I wasn’t sure if my presence would be welcome.

Arlon seems to read my mind and says, “Dom, you’ve done nothing wrong. When I needed you, you were there, and you stepped aside when the situation was beyond your help. The aftermath of… all this is something that Garrett, Bridgette, and I had to work out with each other.”

“Did you?” I ask. “Get it worked out, I mean?” I cast a glance at Garrett. His breath shudders in and out around his gag, and a pang of sympathy twists my gut. I know how bad those little grains hurt.

Arlon leans back in his chair, a serene smile spreading across his face. “We did.”

I want to know more, but it doesn’t feel like my place to dig any deeper. “I’m glad.”

“Me, too.”

He leans down to press a chaste kiss to the top of my head, and I flush with pleasure. His fingers continue to stroke through my hair even as he turns his attention back to his missives. He seems focused but not agitated, and I settle comfortably into my position as an afterthought. I’m just glad to see him acting like himself again.

“Do you have any spell notes for me?” Arlon asks at last, breaking the near-silence. He picks up the small pile on his desk, and it doesn’t surprise me that this was a slow casting week. I hand over the sheets for the spells I cast with Alix and Cancassi as he pulls the logbook over from the corner of his desk.

He takes my spell notes without a word and marks the number of focuses into the log. Then he must read the rest of the details.

“You cast with Alix?”

“Yes, sir.”

Arlon blinks down at me, surprise plain on his face. “How did it go?”

“Real well,” I say with a smile. Since we cast, Alix has seemed more at ease when I’ve seen him - and I’ve seen him far more often at meals and in the common areas. Usually with Orabelle. “He needed it.”

I pick out one of the castings we made and pull it off my necklace. Arlon takes the ring between his fingers and frowns. “Abjuration?”

“Yes, sir.” Not straight abjuration though. I’ve started to get the hang of feeling out spells, but this one has something else in it that I can’t quite place.

“You got six castings of it?” Arlon asks.

“Yes, sir.”

Arlon hums thoughtfully before he asks, “Can I hold onto this for now? I want Bridgette to take a look at it. She’s far better at reading spells than I am, and I wonder if we can’t use it to help keep the Crux’s shield up.”

I clear my throat and look down. “About that, sir…”

“Yes?”

I can almost hear his raised eyebrow. This may be treading on dangerous territory, but Arlon had told me to speak up when I thought I needed to. “How long do you plan to keep the abjuration shield up?” Arlon’s eyebrow inches up further before I add, “I-it’s messing with Cancassi’s sleep. The walls and floors of their room are glowing. They’ve started sleeping with a blindfold on.”

Of all the things Arlon must have been expecting me to say, this wasn’t one of them. “Oh.” He blinks and settles back into his chair, a slight frown on his face. He mulls that over for a moment before he asks, “Do you think I’m being overly cautious by keeping the shield up?”

“Maybe a little bit?” I say, glad that he’s the one who asked first. “Diran’s dangerous, no doubt about that, but I don’t think he’d be foolish enough to try anything now. He just got two of his wizards back, and I don’t think he’s keen to risk them again so soon.”

Arlon nods as he shifts in his chair. “What about a more local threat? We aren’t exactly glowing in the eyes of Straetham right now.”

I shrug. “What can regular folks do that the walls and moat can’t stop? You were already planning on having a guard rotation set up. As it is, no one is going out or coming in without us noticing.”

Arlon sighs and leans his head back. “Bridgette thinks I’m being unreasonable by keeping us locked down.”

“Well…”

Arlon scowls. “You think so, too?”

“I just think that keeping ourselves locked away like this might make our problems with Straetham worse,” I say. “I’m from a small town where secrecy leads to suspicion, so why not let folks go out in pairs or more? It’ll remind the folks in town of who we are - patrons of their businesses, part of the community. That we’re just… people.”

“And what if something happens?” Arlon asks. “Whether it be some idiot picking a fight or one of our own acting rash?”

“You have to trust us. Trust that we can handle ourselves.” Arlon’s hand stills on my head. I turn to kiss his palm as I meet his eyes. “I understand your need for control. Especially now, when things feel so out of control, but at some point, you have to loosen your grip. No one can live with their guard up all the time. I’m not saying that your fears are unwarranted, but we all understand the risks. Who else can rebuild the trust that Diran broke but us?”

Arlon looks down at me thoughtfully before he lets out a long sigh. He rubs his eyes, and for the first time since I got here, he glances at Garrett. “Maybe you’re right. But if I drop the shield, I’m not dropping the curfew. Folks will need to be back by sundown before we raise the bridges.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s not an unreasonable request, and at least it’s a start.

“I’ll make the announcement at dinner tonight.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Arlon finishes marking the short stack of spells into the log. “Have you eaten?”

“No, sir.”

“Then go grab us breakfast,” he says. “And get two extra servings.”

“Yes, sir.” I get to my feet and head for the door just as Bridgette opens it. That explains the last serving then.

She’s dressed in a skirt and bodice today, her silver hair free and flowing over her shoulders. “Good morning, Dominai,” she says as she steps past me.

“Good morning, ma’am.”

Bridgette gives me a curious look as her eyes land on my collar, but I hurry past, feeling my face heat. Something about the intensity of that gaze makes my stomach turn to butterflies.

I go to the mess and gather a tray that I pile with four servings of hot oats, dried fruit, and nuts. I check to be sure neither Thaddius nor anyone else is around to trip me before I head back, balancing it all carefully. I frown at the closed door and kick it in a semblance of a knock.

Bridgette opens it without so much as pausing her and Arlon’s conversation. “- can stand to stay there a little longer.”

“The punishment fit the indiscretion,” Arlon says, and as I step into the room, he gently touches Garrett’s shoulder. The half-orc lets out a quiet whimper before Arlon helps him to his feet. “Sadism isn’t the point of all this.”

Bridgette closes the door behind me. “No, I know that,” she says. “Doesn’t change the fact you’re being gentle with him.”

Arlon chuckles at that and raises an eyebrow. “Me? Gentle?”

Bridgette smirks and says, “Yes, gentle. I’m not denying you’re the perfect caster to help him reground, but at least make your punishments punishments.”

Arlon kneels to pick the rice from Garrett’s knees as the half-orc trembles. “I don’t nitpick how you cast.”

“That’s because you’re usually gagged when I cast,” Bridgette says, and I nearly lose my grip on the tray. I set it on Arlon’s desk with more of a clatter than I mean to.

Arlon laughs at that as he unbuckles the gag around Garrett’s head. When he slides it off, the phallus that had been filling the half-orc’s mouth comes with it. Garrett gasps quietly but otherwise stays silent, and I can’t help but wonder if his ears are plugged as well. My question is answered a moment later when Arlon pushes Garrett back to the ground and holds a bowl of food up under his nose. Arlon sets the bowl down in front of him before pushing his head towards it. Garrett blindly seeks it out before he obediently starts to eat. With his ass up, I can see the base of the glass plug that’s settled inside of him.

“Gods know once Garrett’s in a better place, I’ll be grateful to give the reins over to you for a bit,” Arlon mutters. “Though for now, I’m just glad you’re speaking to me again.”

Bridgette comes up behind him and drapes her arms over his shoulders before planting a kiss against his neck. “I’m glad to be speaking to you again,” she murmurs. “It’s been hard to stay angry at you for a whole month, even if you deserved it for sending Garrett away.”

She tilts his head up to kiss him, and I look away with a grin. Whatever tension they started the week with seems to have been resolved. Arlon lets out a contented sigh before he grabs a bowl to offer her.

I keep my eyes down as a lot of things fall into place. I’d wondered who Arlon went to when the responsibilities he carried got too heavy, and it looks like I’ve found the answer in Bridgette.

But I’m pulled out of my thoughts when Arlon sets my bowl on the floor at his feet. I flush hot. Having Bridgette here makes me all the more aware there’s no way to eat without making a mess of myself. But of course, that’s the point. I steel myself and kneel over it before I dig in. At least I can brace myself with my hands, unlike Garrett, who’s resting with his elbows against the stone.

“We’ve got a unique opportunity with Dominai here today,” Arlon says as he takes his own bowl. “How would you like to use it? He’s great stress relief.”

Heat shoots straight to my groin as Bridgette chuckles. “Since my husband’s claimed you for the time, I think it’s only fair that you lend me your fuckboy,” she says matter-of-factly. I flush straight to the tips of my ears.

“Fair, huh?” Arlon asks, amusement coloring his tone. I finish my breakfast and sit back with my head lowered. Arlon cups my chin and wipes my face clean with a damp cloth. “What would you say to that, Dominai? Speak freely.”

I swallow and look between the two of them with wide eyes. Bridgette watches me from her perch on the corner of Arlon’s desk. Over her bowl, she gives me a wink that makes my guts squirm with anticipation. I’m not opposed to being passed around, but I don’t really know Bridgette. I look at Arlon and ask, “Will you be there, sir?”

Arlon grins at me and there’s a hint of mischief in it. “Afraid of Bridgette?” he asks. “Good. You probably should be. But don’t worry Dominai, I’ll be there to monitor and more.”

The promise in his voice makes me shiver. I know I can trust Arlon to look out for me. “Then I’m alright with it.”

Arlon orders me down to the dungeon, but before he sends me off, he lifts Garrett’s hood. The half-orc blinks as his eyes focus on him before they find me. Arlon’s thumb brushes his cheek before he latches a leash to his collar and puts it in my hands. Garrett lets out a low rumble that sounds like some sort of unspoken yes before Arlon pulls the hood back over his face.

When I head down the stairs, Garrett follows me. On the last step, he stumbles, and I reach up to steady him. He lets out another low rumble of appreciation, and I press a chaste kiss to his cheek before lead him over to the mat.

I guide him to kneel and strip my clothes and necklace off to store on a chair in the corner. When I settle next to him, I sit close enough that my shoulder brushes his. It’s not just for comfort, either. It’s cold down here, and Garrett runs even hotter than Arlon does. His gray skin feels as nice as a sun-warmed rock as I press against him.

Garrett doesn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite. He leans against me, scooting until his chin rests on top of my head. I smile and take it as permission to cuddle closer. We come to some silent understanding that whatever we’re in for today, we’re likely in it together.

I’m not sure how long we’re left waiting, but it’s enough that my stomach jumps at every little noise. I keep my ears tuned to the stairs, but my knees ache by the time I finally hear someone come down them. I look up, and Garrett must feel it because he sits back on his haunches and lowers his head demurely. I take his cue and do the same.

Bridgette comes down first, her boots clicking across the floor. “Look at that, Arlon. The old dog has been a good influence on the young pup.”

I flush but keep my head lowered even as I hear Arlon’s heavier footsteps follow her. “I told you, I think today will be a good lesson for Dominai. He’s still in his first year, so I’ve been rather lenient with him.”

Bridgette tsks dramatically. “You’re training bad habits into him. Letting him lean against your leg like he’s some pet.”

Arlon’s chuckle makes goosebumps shiver over my skin. “I like having a lap hound.”

“Even lap hounds should be trained.”

Bridgette’s footsteps approach before her shiny black boot appears on the ground in front of me. A cool hand strokes my face before she grabs my chin and makes me look up. I’m met with a smile.

She’s pulled her silver hair back, exposing her long, pale neck. She’s changed clothes, too. Tight pants hug her hips while black leather boots nearly reach her knees. Leather gloves cover her hands, and a deep-cut shirt exposes her cleavage, but the corset she’s wearing pushes them into tempting mounds that I’m having a hard time ignoring. In her right hand, she holds a leather crop.

Fear sings through my veins as she holds my chin tight, forcing me to meet her eyes. She tilts my head to each side before she pulls my lips back to examine my teeth.

“Open,” she orders, and I’m quick to obey. She pushes two fingers into my mouth, and I nearly choke in surprise as she examines my back teeth as well.

She pulls away, crop at the ready. “Stand up.” I scramble to my feet, heart thudding. I don’t know what kind of caster she is yet, but it’s a thrill to play the game and find out.

Bridgette takes a few slow steps around me, examining me like an animal on the auction block at the summer fair. Her hands are cool where they trail over my bare skin. Fingers run from my chest, over my hip, and around to my back before she squeezes my ass roughly. I jump in surprise only to feel the bite of her nails as she tightens her grip. I force myself to hold still, and only then does she let go.

“Spread your legs,” she orders. “Arms behind your head.”

I step out a shoulder’s length, but her foot catches mine, kicking my legs open further. I stumble before I settle into the wide-legged stance. My hands clasp behind my head, but a sharp slap from the crop makes me hold my elbows out, exposing me to her inspection.

She takes her time, leaving no inch of me unexamined. Her hands squeeze my calves and thighs before feeling my arms. Fingers drag across my chest, tracing the outline of my muscles before her hand taps against my stomach hard enough to knock some of the air out of me. I let out a surprised “oof” and take a half step backwards, but she grabs my testicles to stop me.

I yelp like a kicked dog and freeze, fear and anticipation rooting me to the spot. Gradually, she loosens her grip but doesn’t let go. Instead, she rolls my balls between her fingers, examining them just as thoroughly as she has the rest of me. I whimper as she cups my crotch roughly, and I barely stave off the instinct to snap my legs together.

Her grip gentles as she palms my soft cock. I’ve been nervous before with Arlon, but Bridgette strikes a different kind of fear into me. My idiot cock doesn’t seem nearly as afraid, because it starts to perk up as Bridgette teases it. A bit of lotion from the bottle in her pocket slicks my length, and I groan as my cock swells. She seems intent on getting me hard, though I’m a little afraid of what she’ll do to it when it does.

“Hmm.” She doesn’t sound impressed. I flush hot.

“What? He’s not to your standards?”

It’s only then I notice that Arlon’s moved across the room. I’m surprised. Not much distracts me from him when I’m wearing his collar. Now, he sits in the comfortable chair in the corner with Garrett kneeling at his feet. His hand gently strokes over the half-orc’s hooded head as he watches us.

Bridgette shrugs. “Nice build, but he’s a little scrawny for my taste. Average cock, though I suppose that’s not what you use him for. His ass, on the other hand, is lovely.”

A sharp crack snaps against my left cheek.

“Bend over,” she orders. “Spread yourself.”

My face flushes even hotter, but I do as I’m told. I fold at the waist and don’t dare pull my legs together. I grab my cheeks and part them for her, only to flinch when her cold hand rests against the small of my back. She circles around me again, and I follow the click of her boots - the only part of her I can see in this position.

She settles behind me before her slicked fingers prod at me. I bite my lip, trembling as two of her fingers press into me. I’ve been casting all this week, and the sudden stretch makes me gasp. Gooseflesh prickles over my skin when she brushes that spot inside of me. A quiet moan breaks past my lips.

The hum she makes this time seems more intrigued. Her fingers scissor to stretch me wider, and I can’t stop a gasp.

“Well, you’ve certainly trained his hole,” Bridgette says.

Arlon chuckles. “You have no idea.”

“Dirty old man,” Bridgette mutters, though I hear the smirk in her voice. She pulls her fingers from me before slapping my ass again. “Straighten up.”

I do, grateful for anything to makes me feel less exposed. I feel stripped raw under her scrutiny, breathless and trembling already. Bridgette circles in front of me, wiping her fingers clean on a handkerchief before she grabs my chin. She’s shorter than me by a good couple of inches, but I don’t really notice until she drags me down to catch my lips in a bruising kiss. Her tongue plunders my mouth, and when she pulls away, I’m left reeling.

“Not a bad mouth, either,” she says. “He’s really the one you’re considering?”

“He’s a very promising wizard,” Arlon says. “I think he has it in him.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I bite my lip. Considering for what? I don’t get a chance to ask.

Bridgette hooks a finger through my collar to get my attention. “Kneel. Don’t you dare close those legs. Keep yourself spread, fuckboy.”

I do as ordered and kneel in the center of the mat, knees parted in a V. The clack of her boots retreat before the cabinet door groans open. She returns a moment later, and ropes glide over my wrists as she guides them behind my back. She ties my wrists before she weaves the rope up my forearms. She does the same around my biceps before pulling the rope snug.

It tugs my shoulders in a way that would have been impossible before Galiva fixed my arm. Even now, it’s a challenging tie, though I know I can handle it. I draw in a deep breath and let it out slow as I relax into it.

“He does make a pretty picture,” she admits. “Ropes suit you, Dominai.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, so I stay quiet as she circles in front of me. One of her shiny shoes nudges at my balls, and I barely stop myself from slamming my legs closed.

“Let’s see how he handles a little pain.”

I bite my lip as she nudges my testicles. She positions them just so before she starts to put a bit of weight onto them. Pain sings from my crotch, like a punch in the gut in slow motion. I whimper but still don’t close my legs.

“He’s never done this before, Bri,” Arlon says, a hint of warning in his voice.

Bridgette immediately lets up and I sag in relief. A gentle hand runs through my hair. “Such a softie.” She strokes my cheek and tilts my head up to look at her.

“I want to play a game with you, Dominai,” she says. “I want to test your endurance. So, when the pain is at a tolerable level, I want you to say ‘blue.’ If it gets to be too much, say ‘black.’ If you say stop, then we stop. Do you understand?”

I let out a long breath, already trembling. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good. I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me,” she purrs. “I hope you will. On your feet.”

I do as asked, though it’s harder now with my arms bound behind me, and my legs turned to water. I manage it and watch Bridgette go to the corner of the room to turn one of the winches. There’s a clink of metal as a chain lowers from the ceiling.

Bridgette returns with a long wooden pole and a couple lengths of rope. She positions me under the chain before she takes my bound arms and ties my wrists to the chain. She moves to my legs next, spreading them wide before tying each ankle to the ends of the pole to keep me there. Once she’s finished, she returns to the corner, and I jump when I hear the loud click of the winch. It clatters, and the chain starts to retreat back into the ceiling, taking my arms with it.

I’m forced to bend over at the waist with my arms stretched up behind me. It’s a stress position, and difficult to maintain by design. My shoulders protest the angle, but it’s not unbearable. She’s put me off balance with the spreader bar, and it’s difficult to move without toppling over.

Then her hands are on me again, stroking up between my legs. My body shudders at the touch, a moan breaking past my lips. I’m rewarded with her quiet laugh.

“Wanton little fuckboy,” she purrs. “You like it when your hole is exposed, don’t you? Just begging for someone to fill it.”

I don’t know if she’s expecting an answer, but then her hand connects with my ass in a stinging slap. I jerk in surprise. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Thought so.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and it makes heat rush to my face. “Don’t worry, we’ll test your hole, too.”

I shudder at the promise of that, though I wonder what I have to get through first. “Yes, ma’am.”

The click of her shoes retreat once more before the cabinet groans open again. When she comes back to me, she grabs my balls without warning. I flinch away, though I don’t have anywhere to go. Honestly, it’s the most gentle she’s been with them all day.

Cool leather wraps around the base of my testicles, and bound as I am, I can watch what she’s doing upside down. The leather is shaped like a little tent that is fastened with a small buckle. Bridgette tightens it, and I groan as tugs my balls are squeezed down by the device. Three fine chains hang in even intervals from the leather tent, their ends coming together on a large metal ring. Then, Bridgette pulls out a small bucket with a hook for a handle.

“We’re going to see how much weight you can carry,” she says before she hangs the bucket onto the ring. I moan as the weight of it stretches my balls down further. Every small shift makes the bucket sway between my legs.

Blood pulses painfully in my testicles, but it only gets worse when Bridgette drops a stone into the bucket. I groan and let my head hang, eyes sliding closed as I settle into conspace. It hurts, but it’s a dull sort of pain, a throbbing ache very different from the evocations I’ve cast in the past.

But then I realize - there are no focuses. This isn’t even a spell. This is a test.

Another rock plunks into the bucket, and I moan.

“Blue?” Bridgette asks.

I have to think about it for a second. Settle into the painful weight of the new addition. “Yes, ma’am.”

Bridgette hums thoughtfully. “Good boy.” She walks in front of me and grabs my chin to make me look up - no easy thing to do in the position I’m in. I blink hazily up at her, seeing a gold tooth glinting in the corner of her mouth as she smiles at me. She holds me there, watching my face as she drops another rock into the bucket.

I cry out as my balls are tugged down further, painfully stretched away from me. “Black,” I whimper, at the very limit of my tolerance. My legs shake from the strain of the position and the ache between my legs.

“Do you want me to remove one?” she asks.

I can’t help the miserable groan that makes it past my lips. After the initial shock of pain, the stretch hurts, but it’s manageable.

“N-no, ma’am.”

“Good boy,” she says before she presses a kiss to my cheek. She releases my chin before circling around behind me. “But I said I was going to test your hole too, didn’t I?”

I moan, my hands clenching under the ropes. Anything to take the edge off of this. “Please, ma’am.” It’s a risk, but I get the feeling Bridgette is the type who likes to reduce people to begging.

She hums as her fingers trail over my ass before she reaches down and gets the bucket swaying with a gentle push. I moan miserably as my legs shake harder. I try to counter-shift my hips to get it to stop, but it still seems to take forever.

“Tell me how you’d like me to stretch your hole. What is it you like?” she demands.

I purse my lips, a strangled whimper escaping me. “A phallus, a plug, fingers - anything, ma’am, please,” I beg, my voice shaking.

“Anything?” Her voice is a quiet purr by my ear.

“Yes, ma’am, please!” The second it leaves my mouth, I have a feeling I’m going to regret saying it.

Bridgette chuckles. “I’ll give him this, Arlon. You certainly picked an eager little fuckboy.”

She puts a hand on my back before cold lotion lands on my hole. I gasp in surprise, but she doesn’t give me a second to even warm it before she presses two fingers into me. I moan my gratitude as she rakes over that spot inside of me with each deep twist of her fingers. Every thrust gets the bucket swinging more, making it tug painfully at my testicles. At least now I have something to distract me.

A third finger pushes into me, and I groan at the stretch. She twists deep before her fingers stretch me open. The ring of muscle loosens to let her do it before a fourth finger nudges in beside its fellows.

“O-oh gods.” The words rattle out of me as Bridgette thrusts slow, stretching me wide.

“What do you think boy, can you take my fist?” she growls, heat layering her voice now.

I whimper and feel her fingers start their slow drag out of me before she thrusts them in deeper, past the second knuckle and touching on the third. I raise my head with a weak cry and see Arlon’s smoldering gaze watching me. I look at him pleadingly, as a slow, sadistic smile spreads across his face.

“He can take it,” he says. “That, I can promise.”

Bridgette slides out a little, but when she pushes in again, her thumb is bundled in with the rest of her fingers. She doesn’t thrust in though, not all the way, and I shout as she spreads her fingers all at once, gaping my ass easily.

“How does that feel, boy?” Bridgette asks. “Do you like having your hole loosened?”

“O-oh gods!” I gasp, words failing me as her thumb presses straight against that spot inside of me. “Ma’am please, I’m so close.”

“Oh, that’s another thing,” Arlon says, like he’s just remembered. “He has the most sensitive prostate of anyone I’ve ever cast with. You can work him to an internal orgasm without even touching his cock.”

“Oh really?” Bridgette says before she thrusts deep, her last knuckles pushing past the tight ring of muscle. Her gloved hand enters me and I shout as my vision sparks. I feel fit to bursting, but Bridgette isn’t anywhere near done. Her knuckles drag against that sweet spot as she twists her hand inside of me. I try to wiggle my hips for any relief, yet it only makes the bucket sway more. But Bridgette’s got a hold of me from the inside out, and I can’t move far. “That’s another point in your favor, boy.”

She starts to thrust shallowly, never pulling out enough to free her knuckles. I scream as her thumb twists and drags over that spot inside of me, but with the weights tugging my balls down, my orgasm is just out of reach. I wail miserably, the pleasure becoming a torment. I’m stretched open, broken apart by her, and the only thing I can do is beg.

“Ma’am, please! Gods, please, please let me cum.” The stretch of her hand, the tug of the weights. It’s too much. Pain and pleasure collide inside of me, breaking me in-between them. I ache with need, but her hand pulls free of me. I cry out, the pleasure and torment turning my voice to a hoarse rasp. “No! No ma’am, please don’t stop.”

“Oh sweet thing,” she murmurs, her voice a mockery of sympathy. She circles around me, stripping her glove off before she cups my chin and makes me look up. “I don’t let my fuckboys cum until I do. Blue?”

“Blue,” I whimper, and she smiles as she drops my head, leaving me to my torment. My balls and ass ache, nerves thrumming with unfulfilled need. I don’t know what I’ll do if she leaves me like this. Don’t think I can stand it. My legs threaten to fold, but the chain keeps me upright, unable to so much as budge.

But then the weight around my aching testicles is lifted, and a sound of pure relief rushes out of me. Blood throbs as Bridgette unclasps the leather tent. When she touches my balls, I buck into her hand with a shout. I’m so sensitive that the gentle touch feels like an overload of sensation.

Bridgette chuckles and lets her hand drop. “That’s what I like to see. I love it when a fuckboy embraces his role.”

She comes behind me and detaches the chain from my arms, but she doesn’t touch the ropes that keeps them bound behind my back. She leans down and frees me from the spreader bar a second later before hooking a finger through my collar.

She yanks me towards Arlon, and for a second, my chest swells with hope. Maybe she’ll give me back to him? But then she stops me with a hand before she whispers something in Arlon’s ear.

“Gods, you are cruel,” Arlon purrs, and my stomach drops. He gets to his feet and tugs gently on Garrett’s leash to get the half-orc’s attention. Arlon leads the way, and Garrett blindly follows, crawling behind me.

Bridgette pulls me after them as they head towards the large bed and mirrors that lay against the far wall. Arlon tosses a pillow on the ground before he guides Garrett to kneel on top of it. The half-orc goes willingly and Arlon unbuckles the hood before lifting it from over his eyes.

Garrett blinks owlishly before he focuses on me. Without the hood on, I see that someone’s trimmed the rough chop of his hair. It’s shorter on the sides than it is on top and a sweat-damp brown lock falls over his glazed eyes.

Arlon pulls the beeswax from his ears and strokes his face. “Are you alright?”

Garrett’s voice comes out rough as says, “Yes, Master.”

“Good.” Arlon unlatches his cuffs from his collar. “I’m giving you your eyes and ears back as a reward for your good behavior this morning. Now, you get to watch me fuck your wife,” he growls.

Garrett shudders and leans against his hand. “Yes, Master. Thank you.”

“Good. Bridgette is far kinder than I am, so she’s going to lend you something to keep your cock warm.”

My eyes widen when Bridgette yanks me forward and presses my cock against Garrett’s lips as she says, “But you need to heat him up first.”

Garrett looks up at me, a twinkle of mischief in his glazed eyes before he draws my length into his mouth.

I don’t know how much hotter I can stand to get. I shout and buck, thrusting deep into the welcoming heat as my hands clench under the ropes. I want nothing more than to grab his head and fuck his mouth, but Garrett’s setting the pace. He goes slow, bobbing up and down as he sucks me. After Bridgette’s rough treatment, my cock is so sensitive that the attention of Garrett’s tongue is near overwhelming.

He teases the underside of my cock before he does something that makes me gasp in surprise. His tongue somehow manages to squeeze me, wrapping fully around my length. He pulls back to tease the tip, but when he opens his mouth, I understand.

His tongue is split. Forked like a snake’s. And both sides of it grip my length unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. My eyes go wide.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp.

“Don’t you dare think of finishing yet,” Bridgette orders, and it’s only then I realize she’s working on Garrett’s knees. Binding him into his kneel by looping a rope around his thighs and under his shins.

Garrett eases up on the tongue, and I gasp in relief. For a second, he just holds my cock in his mouth, letting me cool down. It almost undoes me anyway.

Bridgette is my saving grace. She pulls me away, my hardened length popping out of Garrett’s mouth before I reach that point of no return. I groan, feeling grateful and disappointed all at once. I don’t want to know what she’d do to me if I finished without her permission, and thankfully, I don’t have to find out. Yet.

She pushes me to kneel so I’m straddling Garrett’s waist, his face inches from mine. The half-orc’s cock presses against my hole, and though he’s not as long as Arlon, his girth makes up for it. After Bridgette’s preparations, I’m more than ready to take him.

The stretch makes me moan as I wiggle my way down until I’m fully seated. I can’t help but rock my hips, savoring the feel of him filling me. His arms wrap around me, holding me tight, but then I feel the glide of rope again as Bridgette binds his wrists behind my back. Bridgette frog-ties my legs the same as his, making it impossible to unfold from kneeling.

I wail and bury my face against Garrett’s neck. I can’t move. Can’t get the leverage to lift myself up and ride Garrett like I so desperately want to. Garrett rolls his hips a little, but he’s just as trapped as I am.

It’s such a simple abjuration bind, but so effective. Garrett and I feed off of each other, kept stimulated enough without being able to actually finish the damn thing. It’s as cruel as it is brilliant. Tied as I am, I’m nothing but a hole to keep his cock warm.

I whimper when Bridgette slides six focuses around my fingers. I clench my hands into fists and slump against Garrett, defeated. My balls ache, my ass throbs with unmet need, and I’m helpless to do a godsdamned thing about it.

I blink and notice we’ve been positioned in front of the mirrors, giving me a view of Garrett’s muscled back. It also lets me see the wretched state I’m in. Face flushed, freckles standing out like embers. My eyes are glazed with pleasure and defeat. But then I realize I can also see the bed that Bridgette pushes Arlon onto.

They shed clothes in a whirl of movement, tugging and pulling until they’re both bared. It’s feral, all teeth and nails as they tear at each other. Bridgette is far smaller than Arlon, but fucking hell is she feisty. Her nails scrape over his tan skin, drawing lines of red down his back. A low growl rumbles out of Arlon, and the sound makes the hairs on my arms raise.

Under me, Garrett lets out an involuntary noise of anguish as he strains against his ropes. I whimper against his neck and try to roll my hips to meet him. The feel of him filling me, the friction of my over-sensitive cock trapped between us is enough to drive me mad, but it’s not enough to tip me over the precipice I teeter on.

Bridgette cries out as Arlon tosses her onto the bed before entering her with one smooth thrust. Her legs wrap tightly around him as he fucks her hard enough that the bed squeaks. The sounds of their mutual pleasure is an added torment on everything else. I shudder as I listen to them, hearing Arlon’s low growl rumble out of him as Bridgette urges him on.

“Did you miss me?” she murmurs as she bites his ear gently.

Arlon groans as he hauls her onto his lap, thrusting deep. “So much.”

Bridgette gives a breathless laugh. “Then prove it.”

Arlon seems intent to do just that. He pushes her back onto the bed, kissing her deeply before he hikes her leg over his shoulder. I close my eyes and bury my face against Garrett as the half-orc trembles. He’s just as desperate as I am, and his cock twitches inside of me when Bridgette cries out, a long rattling shout of pleasure as she cums. Arlon’s moan follows a second after, and I rock my hips futilely, wishing I was the one wringing that sound out of him.

They fall quiet, basking in the afterglow while Garrett and I are left to our misery. His breathing is sharp and uneven in my ear, and I whimper, my body aching with need. Garrett shifts, and it’s enough to push his cock against that spot inside of me. I cry out, unable to keep my desperation in anymore. I strain against the ropes. They bite against my skin as I try and fail to get any leverage. Garrett doesn't help when his arms tighten around me, holding me still.

“Someone’s getting desperate,” Bridgette says smugly.

She’s right. I haven’t felt like this since the end of my first week with Arlon, and she’s gotten me there in the span of a morning. I feel like I’ve been kept on the ragged edge for hours. All I want is to cum, mind blank to everything else.

A hand cups my chin, and I blink my eyes open to look up at Bridgette. I’m on the verge of tears, reduced to nothing but a toy for her to use or break as she sees fit. What’s worse is I don’t know whether she’ll let me finish or not. I kiss her hand, nuzzle against her fingers, anything to try and sway her to mercy.

“Sweet boy,” she purrs, her voice gentle. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes! Please ma’am, please,” I beg. “I’ll do anything.”

She raises an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across her face. “Anything?” she repeats. “Tell me what you’d do.”

I rock my hips, though it adds up to nothing more than a wiggle that makes Garrett groan. His arms tighten further, stilling the weak attempt. “I’ll lick your boots, lick your slit - I’ll let you fuck my ass, my throat, anything ma’am, please!” I’m babbling. I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop. “Beat me, piss on me, step on me, anything.”

Bridgette looks down at me with a new appreciation, her thumb brushing my lips. “There he is,” she purrs, her fingers gentle as she caresses my face. “There’s the wizard who made that spell.” Her smile warms me from the inside out.

A glint of metal catches my eye before Garrett’s groans as the ropes holding his legs are cut. Bridgette’s hand strokes through her husband’s short hair. She leans close, and the half-orc shivers.

“Finish him off, love.”

Garrett doesn’t need to be told twice. His arms tighten their grip around me, crushing me to his chest. He thrusts up into me with enough force that I choke on my breath. With the second thrust, I find it and scream in pleasure, arching as his cock rams that sweet spot inside of me. The third thrust shoots me over the edge.

I cum hard, and my vision whites out as Garrett rams against that spot again and again. I lose all sense of time as the pleasure overwhelms me before it starts to turn sharp, an overload of sensation.

“May I please cum, Master?” Garrett asks, his voice pinched with need.

Arlon hums. “Not yet.”

Garrett groans, and I bury my face against his neck, a whimper of continuous pleas falling from my lips. My shot nerves can’t take any more, every part of me aching and oversensitive in the aftermath of my orgasm. I beg him to finish because if he doesn’t, I’m going to come apart, broken by his hard and steady thrusts. Bound as I am, I can’t do anything to stop him from using me to reach his end. I grit my teeth, helpless on his lap as his cock rams that spot inside of me again and again, milking every last drop from my aching testicles.

“Please, Master,” Garrett begs, and it sounds like he’s reaching the end of his endurance.

A hand grips my hair and peels my face away from Garrett’s neck. My vision swims before focusing on Arlon, and under his smirk, there’s something like awe written across his face. Even though he’s talking to Garrett, he keeps his eyes on me.

“You may cum, Garrett.”

Garrett doesn’t waste a second. He hugs me tight before burying himself deep. My voice breaks as I scream, my cock giving one last feeble dribble. But Garrett stills, and I sob with relief. I sink against him, all the fight and desperation fucked out of me.

The haze wraps around me like a warm blanket. I’m jolted out of it as the ropes around my arms loosen and come off. The long-constrained muscles stretch out, and I moan in relief. It only succeeds in shooting me even deeper into conspace.

Hands are on me, and I’m limp as someone carefully detaches me from Garrett. My vision sparks white as I’m pulled off of him, his cock dragging over that spot inside of me one last time. The muscles of my ass twitch and gape, letting Garrett’s seed slide out of me.

My legs can’t hold me. Fucked to jelly. Strong arms draw me close before I can collapse.

“Hush, sweet boy,” Arlon murmurs. “You’re done.”

I lose track of things for a bit. I’m laid out on something soft before gentle hands spread my legs. Fingers gently grab my balls, and I groan.

“No more,” I beg, a stop just behind my lips. I’m still so sensitive that even the soft touch is too much.

“Hush,” Arlon murmurs and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m only checking to be sure nothing’s injured. Though with how hard that orgasm was, I don’t see how it could be.”

I give a small, exhausted laugh and let him do as he wants. He’s gentle and doesn’t prolong it. The damp touch of a cloth cleans me up, and by the time he finishes, I’m already half asleep.

A heavy blanket is settled over me, and I doze. I’m not sure how long I’m out, but at some point, a warm presence nestles up beside me, an arm draping over my waist. When I finally manage to open my eyes, I see that it’s Garrett. His eyes are closed, lips parted enough to catch a glimpse of the white shine of his tusks. It’s no surprise that today wore him out as much as it did me, yet over the deep, even sound of his breathing, I hear quiet voices. I let myself be lulled by them, warm and content before my overloaded mind finally starts to translate it to words.

“- you sure you want to apprentice a conduit?” Bridgette asks. She keeps her voice low. “We’ve seen how that can be used against us.”

“Just because he’s a naturally inclined conduit doesn’t mean he’s susceptible to enchantment,” Arlon murmurs.

“You saw firsthand what happened to Garrett,” Bridgette says. “They’re more alike than you want to admit.”

“I know they both can fall into it deep,” Arlon says. “Conduits like them are rare, but we still don’t fully understand what happened between Garrett and Diran. What other spells he may have stacked to get an effect like that.” Arlon sighs heavily. “Besides, by the time he’s ready, this whole mess will have passed.”

“We can hope,” Bridgette mutters. “I’m just saying that you have other options. Ones that are much further along than him. Allisande, for one. Alix is another. Thaddius being the most promising to me.”

“Just because they’re options doesn’t mean they’re right for the job,” Arlon insists. “Alix has no interest in trying for conjuration, though he used to conduit for corpimancy if you asked nicely. Allisande doesn’t rule out any schools, but she’s too close to the Crown. I don’t like the idea of handing over the Crux to a bloodline wizard. It’s asking for outside politics to complicate things again, and one with royal blood will only exacerbate that. Thaddius is technically non-bloodline, but he has an attitude I don’t like and a mean streak that’s put him on thin ice more than once.”

“You’re being picky.”

“Only as picky as Fawn would have been,” Arlon shoots back, and the silence between them is as heavy as it is brief. “But we have time. I’m not planning on retiring tomorrow. Even if I wanted to, none of them have full mastery. Allisande still needs enchantment and corpimancy. Thaddius needs transmutation, divination, and corpimancy, and if you ask me, I think conquering divination is beyond his reach. Dom, though… he’s more than capable. It’s getting him to believe it that’s the hard part. He just needs time.”

My foggy head finally catches up with what they’re talking about.

Arlon’s replacement.

For Grandmaster.

And he’s considering me.

The thought makes my pulse race with anxiety. I clench my eyes shut and pretend I haven’t heard. The idea of the Crux without the mentor and caster who’s come to mean so much to me is unbearable.

“You’re turning fifty in the spring,” Bridgette says after a moment.

“Thank you for the reminder.”

“How much time are you willing to give him?” she asks. “Fawn was only forty-seven when she got sick. The only thing that could be worse than making the wrong choice for Grandmaster is making no choice at all.”

“I know, I know,” Arlon says through a sigh. “I don’t have an answer for you. Dominai would be the best for the job, but I’m not going to rush him through his masteries. It wouldn’t be fair to him or his potential.”

“So you’re not going to tell him?”

“Not yet. Once he gains a few more masteries. Then I’ll ask him to apprentice,” he says. “Allisande and Thaddius are convinced I’m going to pick one of them, but I think they’re getting suspicious about Dom since I’ve collared him. I want to spare him from that attention for as long as I can.”

He may already be too late in that. I think back to that strange morning when Thaddius stepped in my way. I’d had a feeling he’d done it to make my life harder, but now I understand why.

There’s the scrape of a chair against stone before Arlon sighs. “I’m not trying to push you,” Bridgette murmurs. “You’re in good health. You’re more than capable of keeping up with the Crux, but this whole thing with Diran shook me. If Dominai hadn’t been there… ”

“I know,” Arlon sighs. “I know.”

They fall quiet, and I curl a little closer to Garrett, finding comfort in his warmth. I don’t want to think about any of it. Wish I hadn’t heard it. I try to forget it and force it aside as I doze again, but even so, my fragmented dreams are fraught and full of dread.

I jerk awake with a gasp, and Garrett lifts his arm from my waist. When I blink my eyes into focus, he’s watching me.

“You alright?” he asks before settling his arm back over me.

I swear and push my hair away from my face. “Fine. Just a bad dream.”

I can barely remember the specifics, but the image of Arlon disappearing into a fiery blast of light is the part that woke me. I shake it off - I can’t think about it now. Not when it makes my pulse race with fear every time I do.

Arlon’s wrong about me. I could never do all that he does. He said himself he’s not planning on retiring soon, so maybe I still have time to convince him otherwise.

Garrett gives a sympathetic smile. “I get it. I’ve had my fair share recently, too.” I blink and look around the dungeon, only to see that the lights have been dimmed. We’ve been left alone. “Arlon and Bri are upstairs. They told me to bring you up when you woke. How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” I mutter. “I don’t think my ass will ever be the same.”

Garrett chuckles at that. “You’ll tighten back up. Just in time for Bri to loosen you again next week.”

Somehow, my idiot cock manages to twitch at the thought. “Guess I better get used to it.” I scoot closer to him, the unanswered question hanging between us; there’s no telling how many weeks Garrett and Bridgette will be sequestered in the Crux.

“How are you?” I ask at last.

Garrett’s smile is strained. “Better,” he says. “Arlon’s helping me get my head back on straight. He’s… the caster I need to work through it all. It’s slow going, but it’s getting easier.”

I reach out and stroke my fingers through his thick hair. He closes his eyes, relaxing under my touch.

“This suits you,” I say and gently tug at one of the short locks.

“Bri says so, too,” he mutters and rubs the back of his head. “She trimmed it for me. I’m still getting used to it. Until now, my hair’s never been cut.”

“Really?”

His smile turns bitter. “Braids are important to orc-kin. They don’t get cut unless we’ve been disgraced in some way. Guess it’s only appropriate I lost mine now.”

I lean forward and press my forehead to his. “No, it’s not.” It’s an added insult on top of everything else Diran did. “It’s fucked.”

Garrett gives a small huff of a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

For a second, we just stay there. Neither of us seem in too much of a hurry to head upstairs. I let my eyes close and feel the warmth of his breath mingle with my own, but an errant thought makes me laugh.

“Is the split tongue an orc thing, too?”

Garrett slides one strong arm over my waist before pulling me closer with ease. He smirks as he says, “No. That was a corpimancy thing. Did you like it?”

“It felt incredible,” I say, face heating. “You almost got me in trouble with that.”

Garrett chuckles before he catches my lips, kissing me deeply to let me explore his tongue all over again. When we finally part, I’m flushed and breathless, my cock already a little more alert - idiot fucking thing. Garrett presses a chaste kiss against my forehead. “We’ll both be in trouble if we don’t head up soon. Ready?”

I groan and will myself to move. “As ready as I’m gonna be.”

Bridgette and Arlon are talking as we emerge from the dungeon, but they fall quiet so suddenly that I’m sure they were talking about us. I go to kneel by Arlon’s side and notice the spell I made with Alix resting on his desk. He picks it up and hands it back to me.

“I want to test it,” Bridgette says before I can string it onto my necklace. “I have an idea of the effect, but I want to see it.”

I look up at Arlon, and he smiles as he strokes a hand through my hair. “If you’re amenable, that is.”

“I’m fine with it, sir.” I’ve been curious about it myself. I can tell it’s abjuration, but there’s something else there that I can’t quite pin down.

“You come too, Garrett,” Bridgette says. “Because he’s going to test it on you.”

I blink and share a look with the half-orc.

“Yes, Mistress,” he says even though he raises an eyebrow at her. Bridgette just smiles and slips her hand into his.

After Garrett and I dress, we head to the abjuration yard as a group. I pull my robe tighter around me as we step into the afternoon chill, but Garrett doesn’t seem phased as he walks to the middle of the yard. He’s wearing nothing but a loose shirt and trousers, and his bare feet step across the frosted grass like he doesn’t even feel the cold.

Arlon puts a hand on my shoulder. “Ready?”

“Ready, Master,” Garrett says.

I roll the focus between my fingers and let out a breath before I release the spell. It manifests in the sky above us in a shimmer of white, like powdery snow catching the light. It rains down in a large dome, covering more than half the yard. Garrett blinks and looks up in surprise.

“Oh.”

Bridgette smiles. “How do you feel?”

Garrett gives a small laugh. “Great.”

Bridgette smiles and glances at Arlon. “Go on. Try to hit him.”

I blink at Bridgette in shock even as Arlon walks towards the half-orc, rolling up the sleeve of his robe as he does. He steps under the shimmer of the spell, and his pace slows, like he’s lost track of what he was doing. He shakes it off and walks towards Garrett with intent, fist raised. But he doesn’t strike.

“I can’t,” Arlon says, a grin splitting his face. “Garrett?”

Garrett curls his hand into a fist. He seems like he has to work himself up to it, bouncing from one foot to the other before he throws the punch. It’s fast enough that I flinch, but it slows, like he’s trying to punch through thick air. When it connects, it barely manages to thump against Arlon’s chest. He gives a shocked laugh that Arlon echoes.

The Grandmaster tries to throw another, but it bumps Garrett’s cheek more like a caress. It’s kind of funny. Like watching a fight in slow motion. I cover my smile with a hand as they start to laugh in earnest.

Bridgette puts a hand on my shoulder, and I can see her smiling out of the corner of my eye. She watches fondly as Arlon and Garrett descend into laughter proper, holding onto one another as it escalates.

“Good job, kid,” she says. “This is a hell of a spell.”

I flush at that, but manage a quiet, “Thank you.”

She chuckles and pulls me down to press a kiss against my cheek. Arlon and Garrett finally stumble from the perimeter of the spell, breathless and still smiling from ear to ear. A weight seems like it’s been lifted from both of them. Arlon looks ten years younger.

“It’s abjuration and enchantment, isn’t it?” Bridgette asks.

Arlon gives a small laugh. “Yes, but not like any I’ve ever felt. Enchantments are usually so abrupt, but this one I could feel working. It was a slow sort of onset, but no less effective for it.”

“It would be… amazing crowd control,” Garrett says, his eyes wide with excitement. “We’ve been using hard barriers, but if this was an option to quell an angry mob?”

“Godsdamn, but if we’d only had this a week ago,” Arlon says through a small laugh. He looks at me with new appreciation. “Dom, this is incredible.”

My face gets hotter. The sincerity in his voice fills me with warmth. “Thank you. It was… just what Alix needed.”

Arlon pulls me into a tight embrace, and I sink into him. “It’s something we need, too.”

Tears of gratitude well to my eyes. Today has been a lot of emotions, and all of them catch up to me at once. I return the embrace, my hands tightening in his robes. Arlon tilts my chin up.

“What’s wrong?”

I give a wet laugh. “I don’t know?” It wasn’t meant to be a question. Everything is coming so fast that I can’t sort through it. I bury my face against his chest and laugh through the tears. “I’m dropping, I think. But it’s not a bad one.”

Arlon tightens his embrace and kisses the top of my head. “You’re alright.”

“I didn’t go easy on you today,” Bridgette adds. “You exceeded my expectations, and with all that Arlon’s been saying about you, they started pretty high.”

I give a shaky laugh and pull my face free of Arlon’s chest to drag in a breath. “Y’all aren’t helping.” The tears come faster, but I can’t stop smiling.

Garrett chuckles and asks, “Did you have fun today?”

I’m getting my sleeves wet trying to keep my face dry. “A whole lot.”

Arlon kisses my forehead. “Good,” he says. “So did we.”

23

FINAL SUPPLIES

Gathering the right equipment can be imperative for the success of a spell. This can often mean commissioning non-magical craftspeople to create the items you need. With luck, they will be receptive to the request and coin you offer, but if not, you may need to seek out alternative sources.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

Arlon’s announcement about lowering the abjuration shield at dinner is met with cheers. They only diminish a little when he lays out the conditions; go in groups of two or more, be back by sundown, a guard rotation is mandatory for the foreseeable future and the schedule will be posted in the main atrium.

In an instant, the mood of the Crux lifts.

After dinner, Arlon takes me to his room, and if I had thought they’d give me an easy night after the morning I’d had, I was wrong. I’d also been wrong in thinking his bed could only fit three.

Bridgette wants to see what my throat can take so Arlon shows her, holding me down on his length until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of air. After that, she puts me and Garrett to work. We lick and suck her until my tongue aches and my lips are swollen. We bring her to climax five times before she finally allows us a reward.

With her pressed between us, Garret thrusts into her slit while I enter her from behind. She sets the pace, ordering us to slow down whenever I get close. I don’t know if she’s doing it intentionally to torture me or if she’s just using us for what feels best to her. Either way, I’m desperate by the time she pushes Garrett onto his back and leans forward.

“Go wild, boys,” she says at last, voice thick with pleasure, and I don’t need to be told twice.

I thrust deep and hard, feeling Garrett do the same. We set an alternating pace that sets her off again, and only then does she allow us to cum. All the while, Arlon’s smoldering gaze watches us.

Later that night, once we’re all thoroughly spent, I fall asleep between him and Bridgette, lulled by Garrett’s deep breathing. I sleep like the dead, and when I wake, it comes on slow and easy. Warm bodies are pressed all around me, and it’s difficult to muster the will to get up. But even when I do, it’s a trick to get up without disturbing the rest of them. Bridgette is snuggled against my back, Arlon against my front, so I have to slide out down the foot of the bed.

I manage it, and when Arlon stirs, it’s only to fill the spot I left. But I’m not completely undetected. Bridgette blearily peeks an eye open, but she smiles when she sees me before laying back down, eyes closing once more.

I gather my clothes before I go through my morning routine. I set out Arlon’s clothes and robe, shine his shoes and stoke the fire before I leave. I’d set an outfit out for Garrett and Bridgette, but I don’t know where they’ve stored them for the time being, and I don’t want my rustling to wake them.

It’s not until I’m halfway to the baths that I notice the gray ribbon that’s been sewn around the cuffs of my robe. I freeze in the middle of the hall, blinking in shock.

An abjuration mastery, nestled right against my divination one.

My first instinct is to take it off. Give it back. I still haven’t cast with Arlon. Sure, I made a spell and survived abjuration with Bridgette, but I’m nowhere near ready for this.

But then I remember the conversation I’d overheard between him and Bridgette. Arlon said he wasn’t going to rush me through my masteries. He wouldn’t give me this unless he thought I’d earned it.

And once I shut down that nagging voice in my head, I realize he’s right. I did earn it.

When I reach the baths, I’m smiling like an idiot. Cancassi’s already beat me to the pools and they raise an eyebrow at the sight of me.

“Have a good Monday?” they ask. “You look like you’ve been through it.”

“Oh, I have.” I hold up the sleeve of my robe and click my tongue.

“Look at that!” they crow. “Congratulations!”

I beam and set my robe on the chair. The rest of my clothes follow before I sink into the water. I’m sore all over from yesterday, and the hot water is like a balm for my wonderfully abused body. Cancassi glides over to kiss my cheek as I drape an arm around their shoulders, feeling a little giddy.

“I didn’t realize you were petitioning?”

I give a small laugh. “I wasn’t. But Arlon really liked the abjuration I made with Alix. Then he loaned me out to Bridgette for the day.”

“Good gods. I’ve never cast with her, but Galiva’s told me tales,” Cancassi says. “What’d she do?”

“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” I tease. Or have my ass ruined and tell. I flush even thinking about it, but the heat of the baths masks it. I’ll talk theory till I’m blue, but I like to keep the experience of it to myself. “Let’s just say it was a test of endurance.”

Cancassi leans their head against my shoulder with an exaggerated pout. “You’re no fun. But congratulations all the same. I’m sure with all three of them there, you more than earned it.”

“You have no idea,” I say as I lean back against the lip of the pool. “Now could you make sure I don’t drown while I sleep for another hour?”

Cancassi laughs as they pull me close, their long fingers gently washing my hair. Even though I’d been joking, they lull me to a doze. I must sleep some because when I blink my eyes back open, I’m reclined against their chest. They have their arms wrapped around me to keep me from floating off, and I chuckle tiredly as I lift my wrinkled hand from the water to rub my face.

“Last night, Olbric said to tell you he’s heading into town today if you’d like to be his plus one,” Cancassi says. “He wants to go talk to someone near the palace about commissioning transmutation supplies.”

Excitement settles in my chest. The surprise I ordered from the tailor Ambra recommended should be done, too. It took every coin of the stipend I’ve earned at the Crux, but it will be worth it.

“Are you coming?”

“No, I declined,” they say through a yawn. “With the shield finally lowered, I think I’m finally going to get a good rest today.”

I turn to catch their lips. “I hope so.”

Breakfast is fresh baked apple tarts that Felicity made, and I grab one to bring up to Olbric. When his door clicks open, I’m greeted by the sight of his exposed ass, his trousers only half on. He tugs them the rest of the way up with a jolt and gives me a look over his shoulder.

“Normally you knock,” he says.

“Normally you’re still asleep,” I shoot back before I steal a quick kiss.

He chuckles and finishes fastening the buttons on his pants. “I’ve got a lot to get done today,” he says before raising an eyebrow at me. “Up to and including you, at some point.”

I flop onto his bed with a groan. “Deal, but I call top.”

Olbric smirks. “I never assume otherwise on Tuesdays. Besides, I saw you all head into the abjuration yard. If you had to contend with all three of them, I’m surprised you’re not in the infirmary.”

“Not for lack of trying,” I say through a groan. “Bridgette is no caster to mess with.”

Olbric has a far off look on his face as he pulls his shirt on. “Hmm, I’d let her step on my neck.”

“Funny you say that, because she gave me some new ideas for evocation I’d like to try with you,” I say and waggle my eyebrows at him.

He laughs and presses his knee between my legs as he kneels on his bed to kiss me. I reach up and twine my fingers through his loose hair as I return it. He pulls away too soon and purrs, “I look forward to it.” Then he catches sight of my sleeves, and his eyes go wide. “What!” He tugs at my sleeve and presents it to me, like I haven’t seen it. “When?!”

I beam up at him, unable to contain my excitement. “Yesterday. Told you - Bridgette is no caster to mess with.”

Olbric looks a little confused. “You were petitioning, and you didn’t even tell me?”

I shake my head. “Sure wasn’t, but Arlon thought the spell I made with Alix warranted mastery.”

“Is that what you were testing in the abjuration yard? I saw Arlon and Garrett laughing like teenagers,” Olbric says.

“Yup. It’s abjuration and a hint of enchantment,” I say, grinning at the memory. “Garrett’s pretty excited about the possibility of using it for crowd control.”

Olbric kisses me again. “Amazing,” he murmurs against my lips. “Congratulations, Dom.”

I flush red and can’t seem to wipe my smile away. “Thank you.”

“Least I can do is treat you to lunch,” Olbric says as he pulls me to my feet.

“Good,” I say with a laugh, “Because I’ve spent every last cent I have on a present for you.”

Olbric raises an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Really,” I say with a wink. “Let’s go.”

We’re not the only ones eager to get back to freedom. In the main hall, we run into Thaddius, Ambra, and Iona. We head out of the Crux as a group, passing Fey and Adan on guard duty at the gate. Even they seem happy to be there and wave us through with a nod.

Thaddius gives me a sly look. “Sure you’re up for the trip? You’re walking a little tender.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’ll manage.”

If he’s trying to shame me for conduiting, it won’t work. No shame in it with the spells Arlon and Bridgette were able to get out of me. No shame in conduiting anyway.

Ambra elbows him in the ribs before she falls into step beside me, rolling her eyes. She glances behind us to where Olbric and Iona are talking before she asks, “Are you getting everything today?”

“Sure am.”

“You want to spring it on him tonight?” she asks, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

“That’s the hope,” I say. “We’ll see if he’s up for it. Can I still send him to you and Galiva?”

Ambra beams at me. “Absolutely.”

Excitement settles in my gut. Olbric had said that he doesn’t conduit enchantment often because not much gets to him. Tonight’s the night to test that.

For the rest of the trip into town, I’ve got a smile I can’t shake. Once we reach Straetham proper, Ambra kisses my cheek before she heads off with Thaddius and Iona. Olbric sidles up beside me.

“Where to first?” I ask.

“I have a place near the palace I need to visit,” Olbric says.

“Mine’s just outside the market. Your stop first, grab lunch for Galiva, market, then home?”

“Deal.”

We share a look of pure mischief. I know whatever he’s got planned for transmutation, he’s made with me in mind. I can’t help but wonder what he’s got in store for me. His look tells me he's wondering the same about tonight. That mischief turns from looks to touches after a bit. We’re discreet about it, our winter cloaks helping hide our wandering hands. It sure makes the trip up to the high city more interesting, but neither of us notice that three men have fallen in behind us until one of them calls out.

“Oy, thots!”

Beside me, Olbric tenses.

“Just ignore them,” I murmur.

“’Aven’t you caused enough trouble around here?” another one of them calls. “Or yeh back to raze houses this time?”

Olbric’s eyes narrow. He tugs at my arm, but I don’t let go.

“Ignore them,” I say again.

Unfortunately, the assholes apparently don’t have anything better to do with their time. They don’t get physical, but our trip to the high city gets far less enjoyable as they heckle us down the street. The memory of what a wizard can do must still be fresh in their minds because they stay a distance behind us. It only means that they feel the need to yell louder, drawing the attention of others on the street.

“Hey!” a woman shouts from the second story window to my left. Oh great, someone else wanting to join in. But then the woman continues. “Lay off ‘em, you degens!”

One of our hecklers scoffs. “Why?” he calls back. “They ain’t nothing but trouble! Only took one of ‘em to level a city square. Wonder what these two could do.”

“Keep talking and find out,” Olbric murmurs, low enough that only I can hear.

“It’s just words. Not worth wasting a spell over,” I say.

“They’ll continue on their merry way!” the woman shouts. “That is unless you dickless wonders give ‘em a reason to lay you flat!”

I can’t help but grin at that and glance up at the window as we pass. The older woman catches my eye and offers a small smile. “One of you - a red-headed lass - might very well have saved me from being trampled last week,” she says. “If you see her, send her my regards.”

“Will do, ma’am,” I say with a smile. Allisande will be happy to know she made an impression.

Fortunately, it takes the fun out of our hecklers’ hunt. They break off, muttering to themselves, and we’re happy to be left alone for the rest of our trip to the high city.

Olbric tucks my spell necklace away and pulls my cloak around me before having me wait by the palace gates. He heads into a door a little ways down. I can’t tell what the store is, and I don’t try too hard to find out. I want it to be a surprise.

I draw my cloak tighter around me to try and block out the chill now that Olbric’s not here to do it. Two of the palace guards are huddled around a fire pit near the guardhouse, but it’s only when I recognize one of them that I head over.

“Can I join you?” I ask.

Nikolai groans and blows into his hands. “Gods, not you again.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to ruin your day today,” I say and flash a grin. “Just looking for a warm spot to wait.”

Nikolai sighs and looks at his partner before nodding me over. “I thought the Crux was locked down?” he asks as I hold my hands out to the fire.

“Just reopened this morning,” I say. “Did you miss us?”

Nikolai snorts, but his partner looks at me with new interest, her eyes going wide. “You’re a wizard?”

“Hard to believe, right?” I say and wink.

Nikolai eyes me, but there’s something like curiosity in his gaze. “Where you from, Dominai?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Trying to out me as a peasant again?”

Nikolai snorts. “You did that yourself the second that accent came out.”

I laugh, though I don’t think that was the reaction the guard was expecting. “I’m from Airedale. Up in the Hobokins.”

“How the hell did you end up here?” the lady guard asks. “I didn’t think there were any wizard families up in the mountains.”

“There aren’t,” I say. “I’m no bloodline wizard. Had no idea I was magic for the first couple decades of my life.”

“How’d you find out?” Nikolai asks.

I smirk as I catch his eye. “Slept with the right person.”

Nikolai flushes red, and I can’t help but admit I like the sight. He’s handsome, and I wonder if I can’t make him blush a few shades darker.

“Ever wondered if you have a spark of it?”

It works.

Nikolai scowls and shoves his hands close enough to the fire that I’m sure the embers kiss his fingers. “Nope.”

I shrug even though the lady guard smirks at me from under her helmet. “That’s because you’re a killjoy, Nik. I’d want to know.”

I look at the lady guard and put on a charming grin. “I could help you find out.”

She raises an eyebrow, and I immediately like her. “Alright wizard, what you got?”

I look at her through the dome of her helmet. She’s got a strong freckled face and pretty green eyes that hold a hint of mischief. I hum as I step around the fire towards her, and she lifts her head to meet my gaze. I look her over intently, like I can see some hint of magic by sight alone.

I reach out to tilt her chin up, and a flush rises to her cheeks. Her lips part just slightly in a quiet gasp. I can’t stop a grin. I’ll be damned, I really do have that effect on people. “What’s your name?”

“Teagan,” she says.

I hum thoughtfully and say, “It’s hard to say. I’d have to do a… full aptitude test, which I don’t think your partner would be too thrilled with me doing right here.”

“Damn right,” Nikolai says, his voice a pitch higher than normal.

Teagan seems a little breathless as she lets out a laugh. “Well, I know where to find you,” she says. “It’s Dominai, right?’

“Right,” I say. “Good to meet you.”

“Dom?”

Olbric’s voice carries over the courtyard, and I wink at Teagan. “Got to go,” I say and glance at Nikolai. “Offer stands to you too.”

Nikolai scowls, and as I go to meet Olbric, I can hear him berating Teagan, even as she laughs him off. Olbric raises an eyebrow at me as I fall into step beside him.

“Causing trouble?” he asks.

“I’d like to think I’m forging relations with the guard,” I say. “How’d it go?”

“They didn’t bat an eye at me or my request,” he says. “They said they’ll get it done.”

I hook my arm around his waist before I kiss his cheek. “Can’t wait. In the meantime, you feeling up for a spell I’ve got in mind tonight? Think of it as a… test run for something I’d like to do when you’re wearing my collar around your neck.”

I feel Olbric’s shiver. He raises an eyebrow. “Is this the surprise you have for me?”

“Sure is.”

“Do I get any hint of this surprise?” he asks.

I hum thoughtfully before saying, “It’s enchantment.”

Olbric gives me a curious look, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “You know enchantment doesn’t work on me, right?”

“We’ll just have to see about that,” I say and give his ass a pinch.

Olbric laughs and ducks out of my arms. “Alright then, Dom. Color me intrigued.”

We head towards the clinic, but not before stopping by Mabel’s to grab a couple of meat pies. She’s so happy to see us that she comes around the counter to give Olbric and me a floury hug and an extra pie on the house.

When we get to the clinic, we’re greeted by a tall Kenitkan man. As soon as he catches sight of our necklaces, he gives a white smile that stands out stark against his rich brown skin.

“You’re here for Galiva?” he asks.

Olbric lifts up our parcel of meat pies. “We brought lunch.”

I look around the clinic and catch sight of her near the back, talking to a patient in one of the long lines of beds. Right now, fortunately, most of them are empty. She glances up, grinning at me, but it’s a moment longer before she finishes her conversation and heads over.

Olbric’s too busy flirting with the handsome nurse to hear Galiva ask, “You got your supplies?”

“Getting them next,” I whisper. “Ambra’s still alright to help. Can you?”

“I’ll be back before dinner,” she promises and kisses my cheek. “We’ll have him ready for you.”

The way she says it makes my stomach do a flip-flop of excitement.

We eat lunch in the little room in the back. It’s packed full of supplies, the ceiling draped with drying herbs, but by the window, there’s a small table with mismatched chairs.

“Did you get an answer about the —” she stops and looks at me before continuing, “supply commission?”

Apparently everyone is on the keep-it-a-secret-from-Dom boat.

“They’ll do it,” Olbric says, pleased. “But it’s going to be a few months before they can make it.”

Fucking hell, what could he be planning that would take months to make? Olbric isn’t about to give me a clue and instead changes the subject. “Has Alix come to see you? He thinks he might be ready to conduit for corpimancy again.”

I enjoy my lamb pie, just listening, but the nagging memory creeps into my head. When the conversation lulls, I debate telling them what Arlon said about apprenticing me. It’s halfway out of my mouth before I reel it back.

I don’t talk about what all goes on when I cast with Arlon and breaking that habit now feels like it would be a betrayal of his trust. Instead, I tuck the thought away. For now, at least.

Once we’ve finished up, Galiva grabs Olbric and says, “Can you help me with something? I need someone tall.”

She gives me a pointed look and jerks her head towards the door. I take the hint and say, “I’ll be right back. My errand is just down the street.”

“Hey, cover your spells!” Olbric says, looking put out that he won’t get another hint as to what I’m planning. I’m grateful for Galiva’s distraction. I doubt I’d be able to trust Olbric to stay put like I did anyway. Eager little snoop.

I wave a hand, tucking my spells firmly under my shirt and cloak before I head out to Varice’s shop. The older woman looks up as I let in a cold gust of air, but she smiles when she sees me.

“Ah, Master Dominai. I wondered when you’d be back,” she says. “Most of this has been done for nearly a week now.”

“Sorry. Last week was… well, you know,” I say and meet her at the counter.

“Seems to be all the town can talk about,” she says. “But I’m glad to see that the light from the main tower of the Crux has gone dark again.”

She sets my parcel on top and unties it to show me the contents. I smile and run the sheer red fabric through my fingers. It’s soft as silk, but my eyes are quickly drawn to the metal band that lays on top of it.

“The jewelers delivered that on Monday,” Varice says.

The silver collar has been polished to a shine.

“It’s perfect.”

24

YES, DOM

Enchantment can be a fickle school of magic. What may cause one person to roil with shame may have no effect on another. The key to a successful spell is to find what affects your conduit and indulge it. Helping them find pleasure in what they’re embarrassed or humiliated by is essential.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

“What are you - ack!” Olbric yelps as Galiva grabs his ponytail and gives it a tug.

“Come on, you. Part one of your surprise comes from us,” she says with a mischievous grin.

Ambra winks at me from across the dinner table as she gets to her feet. “Give us two hours. We’ll meet you in my room.”

“Ow - gentle!” Olbric says dramatically as Galiva pulls him to his feet by his hair. He allows himself to be led out of the mess hall, but not before giving me a rather mystified look over his shoulder. I smile as I watch them go, but my nerves make the last few bites of my meal impossible to finish.

I clear my plate and hurry to Arlon’s office as the jitters settle hot in my stomach. For some reason, I’m nervous about going to go talk to him. Even though I’m doing my best not to think about it, the conversation I overheard between him and Bridgette keeps buzzing through my head like a fly I can’t swat away.

He’s just about to lock his office door for the night, but he looks up as I approach. “What’s wrong?”

Godsdamn, but he knows how to read me. I almost cave right there. Tell him that I heard what he said. For a frustrated second, I want to shout at him that he’s wrong about me! He shouldn’t even be considering me! I could never do the things he does.

“Dom?”

I blink, but when I see the concern on his face, the fight drains out of me. Tonight’s not the night. I’ll talk him out of apprenticing me, but I’ve got enough on my mind right now.

“It’s nothing,” I say and force the thoughts aside. The silver collar is cool in my hands as I hold it up to show him. “Tonight’s the night.”

Arlon’s face breaks into a smile his hand lands on my shoulder. “About time. Do you feel ready?”

I draw in a breath as the casting nerves flutter in my chest. “I hope so.”

“That’s not an answer.”

I drag my fingers through my hair. Olbric and I have talked steadily about what we want from his collaring ever since I offered it. I don’t know how much more ready I can be.

“I’m ready - we’re ready.”

“Good.” He presses a chaste kiss to the top of my head, and I blink in surprise when puts a key in my hand. “This is the key to the bottom entrance of the dungeon.”

I take it even as my stomach drops. “I thought you were going to monitor?”

“I would if I thought I needed to,” he says. “But I think tonight should be between you and Olbric.” The casting nerves come in quick. I’ve never cast without a monitor, but Arlon cuts me off before I can even open my mouth. “Dom, you’re a skilled caster. You know the theory. You know the risks, and you know how to navigate them. The only thing that will hold you back now is that nagging little voice in your head that tells you that you aren’t enough.”

My face heats, but he tilts my chin up with a finger when I try to look away. I swallow, and it suddenly feels like we’re talking about more than just Olbric’s collaring. His warm brown eyes seem to see straight into me.

“It’s lying to you. Don’t let it win. You’re enough, Dom.”

Gratitude floods me even as I realize something. Part of my reluctance to apprentice is because it would mean I’d be training to replace him. And I don’t want to imagine the Crux without him.

I throw my arms around his waist, burying my face against his chest. He chuckles as his heavy arms drape around me. For a second, I stay there, letting his words sink in.

I can do this.

“Thank you,” I murmur at last. “For everything.”

“It’s been my pleasure.” He presses one last kiss to the top of my head before he lets me go. “Have fun tonight.”

I go to the library to waste some time until I can’t stand to wait anymore. My nerves have settled to an even hum as I head up to the second level of the enchantment tower, the silver collar held behind my back.

I reach Ambra’s door and take a deep breath to calm my thudding heart before I knock. It’s only going to take a minute to know if this spell is going to work or not. If he’s not phased by this, nothing else I have planned is likely to get to him, either.

Galiva and Ambra giggle, but over that, I hear Olbric swear in Cashir. There’s rustling and whispers, and it takes a long moment for the lock to click. Then, the door opens, and I barely recognize the person standing in front of me.

Olbric’s hair is down, brushed and coiffed to a shine. Black kohl rims his hazel eyes, making the green in them pop. Rouge stains his lips a few shades darker, and he’s doing a fine job showing them off by pouting the way he is. His waist is cinched into the black corset I bought while the sheer ruby robe is tied loosely over it. Underneath it, barely-there black undergarments hold the bulge of his cock. Black lace stockings cover to his mid-thigh and are held in place with a lacy garter. Galiva and Ambra even shaved his legs and the sparse hair on his chest before lotioning his skin to a shine.

He looks like the highest priced mistress at a brothel, and I can’t take my eyes off of him.

Olbric scowls, a flush already spreading across his cheeks. “What?” he demands. “You did this to me, you know!”

“Oh, I know.” I beam at him. “You look even better than I imagined. You look beautiful, Olbric.”

His blush makes his russet skin turn even darker. His lip fights against a smile even though it kinda looks like he wants to slam the door closed on me. Ambra and Galiva grin at me over his shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” Galiva calls. “Now get him out of here. I’m tired of hearing him complain.”

“No one told me a forced makeover was in tonight’s plan!” Olbric shoots back.

“Forced!” Ambra says through a laugh. “He was giving us suggestions by the end.”

Olbric flushes even darker as he glowers at her.

“I thought you said nothing could get to you?” I tease.

Olbric sputters, but I don’t give him a chance to respond before I pull the collar out from behind my back and present it to him.

He stills, eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“Ready?” I ask.

Olbric is speechless, but excitement lights up his face. He meets my eyes, radiant as he smiles, and nods. Coyly, almost shyly, he lifts his hair out of the way.

I step up behind him and kiss his shoulder, feeling him shiver as I slide the collar around his neck. The clever little hinge opens and closes, and the quiet click it makes as it locks is like music. Olbric’s breath hitches, and I can’t help but thread my finger through the ring on the front of it to pull him around and into a kiss.

He melts against me, and some of the nerves disappear. The clothes softened him up, but the collar’s done him in. He may as well be clay in my hands.

This is going to be a fun night.

I smile against his lips. “I got us special reservations. But to get there, we have to go downstairs.”

Olbric’s blush returns in full force when he realizes I mean to parade him around a bit, but he nods all the same. When I pull out the short silver leash from my pocket, his eyes narrow in something like defiance. I latch the leash to the little ring on the front of his collar. My finger brushes gently under his chin as I smile over his shoulder at Galiva and Ambra.

“Thank you both for this. Seriously.”

Galiva beams at me. “Have fun,” she says even as Ambra slips a hand into hers with a mischievous look. Ambra blows me a kiss before she shuts the door. A second later, I hear Galiva yelp.

I smile and twist the leash around my fist, pulling Olbric close. He lets out a quiet noise of anticipation. I want to plunder those pouty red lips, but I’ll have plenty of time for that later. Instead, I kiss his cheek and say, “Come on, beautiful.”

He falls into step behind me as I lead him down from the enchantment tower and into the main tower of the Crux. The library is still full, and Olbric gets a few whistles as I lead him past the doors. I don’t look back, but I can almost feel how flustered it gets him. He scuttles up to tail closer behind me, and I tighten my grip on the leash so he can’t fall back again.

I lead him past Arlon’s office and down the stairs towards the baths. We break off into the small hall and reach the lower entrance of the dungeon. When I pull the key out of my pocket, Olbric’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Arlon loaned you the dungeon?”

“Sure did,” I say and unlock the door. I lead him inside and touch one of the globes on the wall to brighten them, chasing all the shadows from the room. I want to be able to see him. “I wanted to get my money’s worth out of that outfit I bought you.”

Olbric bites his lip and grins at me, a hint of mischief crossing his face. “Oh, is that what this is about? You buy me some pretty small clothes and think I’m going to spread my legs for you?” Done up as he is, that coy look smolders.

I grab his cock through the lacy black underwear, leaning close to nip along his jaw. “Yes.”

He shudders, and with how close we are, I feel his skin shiver with anticipation. I bite again, a little harder, focusing on the muscle at the base of his neck, and he groans. But before he gets too comfortable, I pull back and grab the chair that rests against the wall beside him. I drag both of them to the center of the room, though I drop the chair just outside the circle of light that’s the brightest. That, I reserve for Olbric, and I guide him to the center of it before I unlatch his leash.

I find my seat and lean back, just content to take him all in. He looks incredible. The light globes cast a golden sheen against his skin. The robe softens his shoulders while the cinch of the corset accentuates his hips and ass.

Gods, but he is a sight.

He starts to fidget under my gaze. It’s like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, and I find it cute that instead of crossing his arms over his chest like he normally does, he hooks a finger through the ring of the collar. The longer I look at him, the more flustered he gets.

“Turn around, slow.”

Godsdamn but he’s cute when he blushes. He does as asked and spins in a slow circle, letting me see at all of him. That bulge in his underthings is still definitely male, but overall, he gives a convincing performance. Even the way he sways his hips as he turns looks more feminine.

“Slide your hands through your hair.”

A smile quirks his lips, then. He does as asked, hips cocking into a bit of a pose as he rakes his fingers through his hair. Now that he’s able to put on a show, he falls into the role a little easier. He teases his hair out and grins at me through the mussed strands.

I meet his eyes as I lean back comfortably in my chair. I fold one leg over my knee and rest my hand over my crotch.

“Take the robe off.”

Olbric brushes his hair to the side before he turns away from me and unties the robe. He tosses the soft cotton tie to me before he eases it off his shoulders and down his back. His skin practically glows, and I wonder what Galiva and Ambra put on him to get it to do that. He looks radiant.

He waits until the robe’s under his ass before he glances at me over his shoulder and coyly lets it drop. Gingerly, he hooks the robe with his toe before kicking it to my feet. It seems like he’s enjoying this game of dress-up more than he first let on. I decide to raise the stakes.

“Dance for me.”

Olbric flushes hot again, and I’m glad. I was starting to miss that blush.

“We don’t have any music.”

I raise an eyebrow as I twist the tie of his robe around my hand. I could make him do without, but instead, I start to whistle. A slow, easy tune that I learned from the caravan I traveled with to get to the Crux. Olbric chuckles and runs a hand over his face. It’s a moment longer before he starts to sway his hips.

It takes him a bit, but he relaxes into it, moving into a slow, easy dance. He spins, hands gliding down the curve of his waist. I know he’s doing it so he doesn’t have to face me head on, but I have to admit that it’s a good view. He’s really a pretty good dancer, and the way his ass moves is downright distracting.

He gains confidence after a minute, and I change the tune, speeding it up. Olbric slides his hands through his hair as he bumps his hips out. When he turns again, his eyes are closed, and he’s smiling with obvious pleasure as he dances. I wonder what he’d look like with real music, and hope I have an opportunity to find out someday.

I let him at it for a moment, just enjoying the sight before I bring the little song to an end.

“You really are shameless, aren’t you?” I tease.

“You may surprise me, Dominai of Airedale, but I’m fast to adapt.” He turns to face me, his smile bright as he flicks his hair over his shoulder.

“Hmm, we’ll see how you feel when I parade you through the library when we’re done tonight,” I say. I have no plans to - I want him to myself for his first night collared, but the idea of it makes his eyes widen comically. “You’re gonna look far less put together than you are now.”

In an instant, the blush returns to his face. He stills before his lips slide into a slow, easy smirk. He takes a couple of slow steps towards me as he twirls a strand of his black hair around his finger. He leans forward, one hand on the arm of my chair before that finger draws a gentle line down my chest to dip under the collar of my shirt.

“What’s a girl have to do to avoid that?”

I bite back a shiver. He’s definitely getting the swing of it now.

I smirk and reach down to hook a thumb over the hem of my trousers. “Why don’t you start with those lips down here.”

Olbric smirks at me before he makes a show of getting to his knees. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he settles between my legs before his teeth bite down on my drawstring. The laces pull apart before Olbric reaches for the fabric.

“Hands on the ground,” I order.

A small smirk quirks the corner of his mouth as he glances up at me. Godsdamn but he looks good. I’ve caught him off-guard with all of this, but he sure is embracing it. It’s a pleasure to witness, especially because I don’t think I’ll stop doing it anytime soon. I’m already running the numbers for another outfit as I meet his gaze, holding it until he lowers his hands obediently to the ground.

“Good girl.”

He tries to hide it, but from my angle, I can see the shiver that rushes through him. His teeth find the hem of my trousers before he gives a rough tug. I hadn’t worn underthings to be nice, so when he pulls my pants halfway down my hips, my cock slips free.

His lips are soft against my skin, tracing up and down my length before he pulls me into his mouth. My hand slides through his hair as his lips inch further down, enveloping me. His tongue rolls around my length, and with every bob of his head, he takes a bit more of my length. Gooseflesh shivers over my skin, and I tighten my hand in his hair, not letting him pull away.

He makes little sounds of pleasure as he sucks me. As his pace speeds up, it sure seems like he’s trying to sway me to be merciful. Hell, it feels like he’s trying to suck the soul out of my body. And he may very well succeed.

I force my eyes back open as Olbric’s nose bumps my navel. He looks up at me through his lashes as he swallows me to the root. I groan and tighten my hand on his hair to hold him there, savoring the feel of his throat working around me.

His eyes never leave mine, and I swear appreciatively at the feel of his warm, wet mouth. I hold him on my length for a moment longer before I push him off of me. Fuck, that’s enough of that for now. He’ll finish me off long before I’m ready. He grins as he sits back on his heels, a bit of the red rouge smeared down his chin as he licks his lips.

“Hungry, aren’t you? But you’ll have to do better to avoid putting on a show for the library later.”

I loop a finger through the ring on his collar before I pull him to onto my lap. I position him so his back is against my chest, my hand around the forced curve of his waist. The corset makes him sit up straight, but when I try to trail my hand lower, his legs close.

Now, that won’t do. I reach around his waist and wedge my hands between his thighs before I force them open. I deliver a slap to the tender flesh as I order, “Stay.”

Olbric quivers, his hands gripping my thighs. I trail my hand down between his legs to feel his erection, barely hidden behind the paltry underthings. A spot of wetness has soaked into the fabric, and I deliver an admonishing slap to his thigh as I tsk.

“Soiling these already, huh?” I slap his thigh again, hard enough that my fingertips tingle. Olbric’s breathy gasp is music to my ears. He twitches on my lap, his ass grinding against my hard cock. “That’s very rude. These were expensive.”

I rub his length through the fabric until he moans and arches against me. His fingers dig into my thigh as he thrusts wantonly into my grip.

“Hands on your collar,” I order.

Instead, his hands trail behind him to graze my cock. As nice as it is to see him with his arms behind his back, it’s not what I asked for. I deliver another hard, stinging slap to the inside of his thigh. He yelps, but to his credit, he keeps his legs spread. I still have to slap him once more before he obeys, hooking his fingers grudgingly over the silver band around his neck.

“Better.”

My lips rest against the back of his shoulders as I wrap my arms around his waist. I toy with him, squeezing another drop of liquid from the tip of his erection. I pull him flush against my chest and run my hand over the black corset.

“Is this too tight?” I ask as I trace the curve of his waist.

“Could be a little tighter,” he says, breathless.

I hum at that before I reach down and pull the waist tie from the forgotten robe. It’s made of fine cotton, dyed to a perfect ruby red. I use it to bind his wrists in front of him before giving his thigh another stinging swat.

“Stand up. Go against the wall.”

He obeys, stumbling to his feet. A thrill of satisfaction fills my chest to see that I’ve already started to turn his legs to water. I aim to do better by the end of the night. He leans back against the wall, grinning coyly at me as he holds his bound hands to his chest.

I grab his shoulder and spin him around to press his chest against the cold stone, earning a gasp.

“Spread your legs,” I order. He scoots his legs only an inch apart. I snort and catch the back of his thigh with another finger-tingling slap. “Wider.”

He scoots another inch, but at least now it’s enough that I can get between his thighs. My hand closes on the back of his neck, and I pin his cheek to the stone as I slap his thighs hard. He yelps and finally relents, scooting his feet out until they’re shoulder-length apart. I angle his ass out before I take his bound hands and place them against the wall over his head.

“Keep those there,” I order.

“And what happens if I don’t?”

I smirk and give his ass a rough slap. “Fuck around and find out.”

I untie the bow on the back of the corset before I get to work on the laces. I make my way down the crisscross of the corset, tugging Olbric’s waist in even tighter. Olbric quivers under me, groaning quietly as I cinch him in before I re-tie the bow.

“Better?” I ask and glide my hands over the forced curve of his waist.

“Yes.” He’s panting, breathless, and not just because of how tight I’ve cinched him in. He rolls his ass back, grinding against my crotch, and it takes all my self-control not to fuck him right against the wall. But I’m not looking to end things early. Instead, I slide my hand under the black lace panties to grab his ass.

“Gods, you look beautiful, Olbric,” I purr as my fingers explore under the lace to tease at his hole.

“I would hope so,” he says, his voice hitching. He spreads his legs wider in invitation. “Took damn near an hour to get me to look this way.”

“A pricey harlot knows how to display her best assets,” I say before I give his ass a gentle pat. “Though I think you could use a little more color back here.”

My hand cracks against his ass again, and Olbric jumps, hips pushing forward on instinct. But a second later, he cants his hips back again, silently asking for more. I smirk as I give him another crack. The squeak he makes only goads me on, and I deliver a few more open-handed smacks, catching the meat and underside of his cheeks. The lacy underthings let me see the nice jiggle they make with every strike, and I don’t stop until his ass glows stark against the black fabric.

Then, Olbric’s hands scoot down the wall. I spin him around, earning a squeak of surprise before I grab his bound wrists. I lift them up, pinning them to the wall above his head as I bring my face close to his.

“What did I say about keeping your hands where I put them?”

Olbric’s eyes widen with a delighted kind of surprise before narrowing to mischief. He draws his lower lip between his teeth, and I realize he wants to be punished. Fucking masochist.

During our talks, he said he wasn’t going to be the obedient, coy little conduit. It’s like he’s testing the waters, feeling out what kind of caster I am. I tighten my grip on his wrists, smirking at his defiance.

I’m going to be the caster that tames him.

I find the metal hook that’s screwed into the wall above him and pull his wrists up until I can slip the cotton tie over it. Olbric tugs at the bindings before a flash of fear crosses his face. It snaps him out of it abruptly, and I stop just as quick.

Belatedly, I remember that this was off-limits the last time we cast. I swear and grab the end, ready to undo the knot and free him.

“Wait,” Olbric says. This close, I can feel his breath against my neck. “It’s alright.”

I meet his eye as I drop the act. “You’re sure?”

Olbric trusted me with collaring him. It makes my chest ache to think I’m fucking it up with bad memories.

But then he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose. “I’m sure.”

I look at him, and the trust I see there makes my breath catch. Realization hits me like a brick. Olbric’s okay with it because it’s with me. I catch his lips, pouring my gratitude into the simple contact.

“You’re incredible,” I murmur and feel him smile in response. Then I take a fistful of his hair and tug his head to the side, wringing a gasp out of him. “But you still moved your hands when I told you not to.”

I press a deliberately soft kiss again his neck. He shivers, a moan breaking past his lips. The sound of it is enough to pull me back into the swing of the spell. He gives me a coy grin, and it seems as if he’s right back in it with me.

I stroke his cheek before I step away. Arlon’s collection of crops is mounted on the wall beside us, and I make a show of deciding which one I’m going to pick. Olbric’s eyes follow me intently until I settle on a thin, flexible leather crop. I take it down and slap it against my palm to test the sting.

“Spread your legs,” I order.

Mischief returns to Olbric’s face. The look he gives me smolders as he deliberately pulls them closed. “Make me.”

“Bratty little harlot,” I murmur before I slap the crop sharply against his thigh. “You want me to redden that pretty skin?”

He yelps, but I catch him again when he moves his legs just enough for me to get between them. I give a few hard slaps until he has to obey, and I don’t let up until they’re where I want them, spread wide against the wall, his arms pulled tight over his head.

Olbric’s chest heaves, and I put the tip of the crop under his chin. When I push his head up, he glowers at me playfully, his expression full of heat and defiance. I reach into my pocket to grab six focuses that I slide over his fingers.

“You want to keep disobeying me?” I ask as I trail the crop down his cheek. “Then you get punished for it. I’ll redden your thighs so much you can’t put them together, and you’re going to count each strike, understand?”

Olbric bites his lip. “Yes -” he stops, not sure what title he should give me.

“Good girl,” I say as I stroke his cheek with the end of the crop. “You may call me Dom.”

His face burns hot, his eyes widening as he looks at me. It makes my chest swell to see the haze of submission across his features. To know that I put it there. He speaks quietly, almost reverently, as he says, “Yes, Dom.”

“Count them,” I order before I slap his thigh viciously.

“One!” he yelps.

I bring it down just as hard onto his other thigh, and he arches back against the wall.

“Two!”

I snap the crop down again and again, enjoying how each number he shouts sounds a little more desperate. But I know how much pain he can take, and we’ve barely scratched the surface. His skin reddens with every strike, his body jerking. Spread out as he is, he can’t hide the quiver in his limbs.

“Fifteen! Sixteen!” he shouts as he writhes and squirms against the wall. He tugs at the little cotton tie that keeps his wrists bound, but I made sure to have Varice reinforce that little strip. It holds strong in spite of his squirming.

As promised, I don’t let up until the inside of his thighs are a healthy shade of red. The last strike is a hard one, and he cries out in pain as he shouts, “Thirty!”

I trail the crop down his sensitive skin, and he trembles. When the crop brushes his erection, his hips jerk, but he keeps his legs obediently spread. I use his distraction to check the focuses. Only two of them are glowing. I remember him saying that he normally can’t charge more than a couple without orgasm, but I’m not about to give it to him yet.

“That’s a good girl,” I purr and drop the crop. My hands stroke over his reddened thighs, and I get a sadistic thrill when I feel how hot they are. Olbric moans, his whole body shaking like a leaf as I kneel in front of him. My lips barely brush his tender skin as I ask, “Did you learn your lesson?”

He whimpers and arches, as if trying to coax me on. “Yes, Dom.”

“Good.” I tug the black lace down to let his cock spring free. I chuckle when I notice that Galiva and Ambra shaved him here as well. He doesn’t have a lot of hair to begin with, but now his smooth skin is just begging me to taste it.

I pin his hips against the wall as I draw his length into my mouth. When he tries to pull his legs in, I replace the crop with my hand and slap them back open, keeping him spread and exposed to me. And I don’t go easy on him.

I use every trick I know. I tease the underside of his cock with my tongue before pulling back to swirl around his head. When I look up, he gives a wanton moan as he arches against the wall. I smirk around him before I swallow him deep, letting my throat work him until his entire body is taught.

His moans grow steadily more desperate, and I pin his hips to still his squirming. With his arms taut over him, he’s barely able to wiggle as I devour him. I don’t let up as I trail one hand up his thigh. A finger dips under the black small clothes, and for once, I don’t have to ask him to spread his legs further.

He quivers eagerly as my finger finds his hole, but I don’t push in. With how I’ve pinned him, he can’t even try to wiggle down onto my digit, and I can tell by the frustrated sounds he’s making that it’s driving him absolutely mad. I circle his entrance, a teasing promise of what’s to come.

All the while, my mouth never stops as I move up and down his length, tasting his skin and the salty tang of precum. With how worked up I’ve gotten him, it doesn’t take long to bring him to the edge. The focuses around his fingers crackle audibly as he wails, his hips jerking under my grip, but I pull away before he can finish.

He whimpers and rocks his hips towards me, cock bobbing temptingly like he’s trying to reach my mouth again.

“Oh fuck, c’mon,” he whines. I deliver a slap to his thigh, and he yelps, pressing back against the wall like he can escape.

“You know what I’m going to teach you while you’re collared?” I ask as I land another smack against his tender skin. I wrap my fingers around his testicles and tug them down. He groans miserably, and the sound makes the hairs on my neck stand on end as a sadistic thrill rushes through me. His length twitches before I give it a sharp slap. He gasps and jerks back, eyes wide with shock and lust. “Patience.”

Olbric whimpers, melting against the wall as his hands clench under their ties. It looks like that did the trick. Around his fingers, all of the focuses are glowing with charge.

I straighten up and pluck the charged rings off. Olbric watches me with a hazy sort of curiosity as I reach into my pocket and pull out six fresh ones. His eyes go wide, his mouth slightly open as I slide the new ones over his fingers.

A thrill rushes through me. I doubt he’s done this before - switched schools in the middle of a casting. I reach down and feel his cock throb in my grip when he realizes we’re nowhere near finished.

I’ve gotten an evocation out of him by the feel of it, but I promised him enchantment as well.

I grab his chin and make him look at me as I wrap my other hand around his straining length. He whimpers and thrusts vainly into my fist. I still him when I move my hand from his chin to his neck, pinning him gently to the wall.

Leaning close, my lips brush his ear as I purr, “Since you can’t seem to keep it under control, maybe I should lock your cock away when you’re like this. Make it so you have nothing to offer but your hole and your mouth. I bet that attitude would go away real quick when I’ve kept you desperate for a night.”

Olbric’s eyes get even wider at my threat. A shiver rushes through him that makes the heat in me surge.

“You wouldn’t,” he says, that playful defiance back on his face.

“Want to test that?” I grin and lean forward, brushing his throat in feather-light kisses. His quiet mewl is music to my ears. “No, you’re right. I don’t have a cage for you tonight, but I’ll keep you desperate all the same.”

I squeeze a bit of lotion onto my hand before I slick his length, stroking him in long, even pumps before focusing on his head. He arches his hips towards me, thrusting into my grip, but I still him when I tighten my hand around his throat.

“Everyone knows the premier evoker of the Crux, but none of them have seen you like this.” I nibble at his ear as I work his length, stroking faster. “Only I’ve seen you dressed up like the shameless harlot you are. And I get to use you as I please, isn’t that right?”

A quiet whimper breaks past his lips as he nods.

I loosen my grip on his neck, my lips brushing his cheek. “Say it.”

“Yes,” Olbric gasps. “Please use me, Dom.”

“Good girl.”

His hips push away from the wall and into my hand, begging with everything but words. All the while, my hand continues to stroke him, working his hard, leaking cock. A tiny whimper makes it past his lips as his eyes slide closed. His face is scrunched in concentration as he bites his lip, and I can tell he’s close.

I smirk as I let his cock slip from my grip.

The noise he makes is one of pure disappointment. “Ooh, fuck you,” he whimpers, a distinct tremor in his voice. His hands clench around the focuses, and I’m pleased to see that they’re already charging.

“What did you just say to me?” I ask.

When Olbric opens his eyes, the defiance is back on his face in full force. He smirks as he says, “You heard me.”

I hum as I pull my handkerchief from my pocket and make a show of wiping the lotion from my hand. Slowly, I walk over to the cabinet, leaving him to stew as I pull the groaning door open and rummage through it. I find a vicious set of metal nipple clamps before I walk back over to him, letting the delicate chain attaching them dangle from my fingers.

“Fuck me, huh?” I repeat, as I walk back over to him. His eyes widen comically as he looks at the mean little clamps. “You’re gonna regret that, beautiful.”

I close the clamps onto his nipples, earning a quiet hiss of pain. He trembles as I grab the chain connecting them and pull. He arches his chest out with a gasp, trying to ease the strain. But with his hands still bound to the wall above his head, he can only go so far, and I move with him so there’s no slack in the chain. The clamps are a clever design. The more they’re tugged, the tighter they pinch, and Olbric lets out a quiet whimper when he finds himself trapped.

Without warning, I deliver a sharp slap to his hard cock, and he yelps, jerking back on instinct. It only makes the clamps tug harder, and he swears as he pushes forward again, trying to ease the strain. I deliver another hard slap, enjoying the sight of him warring with himself.

“Are you ready to apologize?” I ask and slap him again, harder this time. He gasps, biting his lip to silence as he glares his defiance at me. I just shrug before I pull the chain harder. He arches, put on his toes as I stretch him as far as his bound arms will allow.

Then I pour a bit of lotion over his length and wrap my hand around him again. The sound he makes is pure torment, and I realize that using kindness is going to break him far quicker than pain will.

“Wanton little harlot,” I purr as I start to stroke him again, pumping his length in strong, even thrusts. “You like that, don’t you?”

He remains stubbornly quiet, but his expression tells me all I need to know. His face is a mask of pleasure and pain, and even though it makes the clamps tug with every movement, he thrusts into my hand. His body tenses once more, his mouth falling open as a moan of anguish breaks past his lips. He’s so very close.

Once again, I let his cock slip from my grip before I deliver a sharp slap to the sensitive head.

Olbric cries out and jerks back, his nipples pulled painfully away from his body. I smirk as I wrap the chain around my fist, keeping it taught as I step close to him, pressing him flush against the wall. His hard cock jabs against my hip, but I ignore it. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but closes it again, pursing his lips with a quiet whimper.

“Do you have something you want to say, beautiful?” I purr as I pull harder on the chain.

Olbric moans and buries his face against his arm as he says, “I’m sorry, Dom.”

I hum, keeping the chain taught. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

He throws his head, eyes clenched shut. “I’m sorry, Dom!”

“That’s a good girl.” I let the chain fall against his chest, and he sags in relief. I reach up and grab the red tie and tug the knot loose, freeing his wrists. He goes to pull his hands against his chest, but I stop him, catching his wrists before I tug him close.

I nip down his neck and chest before freeing the silky little ribbon that keeps his stockings attached to the garter. I hook my finger around the lacy underthings.

“Take these off and bring them to me,” I order. I’m curious to see if he’ll obey or not. I’ll come out the winner, either way, honestly.

I release him and go to lay on the bed, propped up on my elbows to watch. Olbric shivers against the wall, and it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts. For a second, I think he’s going to make me come get him, but then he slides the lacy things down, freeing his hard cock as the small clothes fall to his ankles. He has to bend at the knees to retrieve it, the corset stopping him from leaning down naturally. It’s such an effeminate pose, and seeing him do it makes my cock twitch.

Olbric brings the lacy small clothes over to me, and I smile as he drops them into my hand.

“Look at you being so obedient. Maybe I won’t loan you out to the library tonight,” I say approvingly as I loop the ribbon of his garter back through his stockings. I think I’ll keep those on. I like how they look. When I’m done, I can’t help but give the chain on his nipples a gentle tug and am rewarded with his little flinch. “I’ll have to remember that edging you seems to improve those manners.”

That wrings a disgruntled noise out of him, and I use the chain to draw him close. He ends up straddling my lap, and the look he gives me is pure sex, all heat and defiance. He grinds his cock against me, moaning at the fiction.

“And who gave you permission to do that?” I ask, even as my own responds, throbbing with need inside of my trousers.

“Who’s gonna stop me?” he challenges.

I smirk before I grab his forearms. His eyes widen, and he yelps in surprise as I thrust my hips up. It’s the same move that almost worked on Arlon when we went toe to toe down here. Olbric topples off of me and onto the soft bed, and I’m on top of him before he can recover.

I force his hands over his head, pinning them with one of my own before I ball up his underthings. He lets out a scandalized noise when I shove them into his mouth to gag him. He’d done the same thing to me not so long ago, so a bit of payback only seems appropriate.

“Uppity little whore. Maybe passing you around the library would do you good,” I hiss. “You’d be a sight, wouldn’t you? The premier evoker of the Crux, reduced to a cheap harlot for the night. I could let every last wizard in the Crux have a turn with you.”

Olbric makes a sound of pure need as he thrusts up, his hard, leaking cock seeking any stimulation. I move with him, making sure he can’t so much as brush me with it.

He’s a sight. Splayed out underneath me, lithe and beautiful and debauched. One of my hands keeps his wrists pinned while the other trails lightly down his chest. His eyes flutter as I pull the chain up, teeth biting down on the black underthings as the clamps tug at his nipples.

“I’d charge a silver for your mouth, five for your hole,” I say, heat layering my voice. Olbric had said that he was alright with being passed around when collared, so I know the idea of it excites him. Even if I have no plans of sharing him tonight, there’s power in the idea of it, and I use that to my advantage.

“I bet you’d make enough in a night that I could get you a whole wardrobe. You’d be the most popular whore in the Crux.” I pull on the chain, forcing him to arch his back up as he vainly tries to ease the strain. “And leaving you with a loose, cum-filled hole would fix that disobedient tongue right up, wouldn’t it?”

His chest heaves under the tight confines of his corset, face flushed. The haze of submission softens his features as he lets out a long moan of need. I chuckle as I let the chain drop before I slip off the bed. I grab his reddened thighs, and his haze turns to wide-eyed surprise as I yank him to the edge. He yelps as his ass nearly slips off the end, but I give him a good slap on his reddened ass as I settle between his legs. Olbric whimpers around the gag, and I smirk as I lean forward.

“You’re already bought and paid for, Olbric,” I purr. I pull my cock free from my trousers and slick it with another bit of lotion from my pocket. I drape one of his legs over my shoulder and maneuver him to the right spot on the edge of the bed as I line myself up. “What I do with you is up to me now.”

He looks up at me with glazed eyes, nodding as a whimper breaks past his lips. He knows it. Even better, he loves it. I’m smiling like an idiot, and I don’t care.

“But lucky for you, I don’t feel like sharing tonight.”

I seat myself with one smooth thrust, and Olbric arches under me with a muffled shout. I don’t let him adjust before I start to fuck him in earnest. His hands fly up to grab my shoulders, and I smirk as I grab the chain and tug.

“Keep those hands on the bed.”

Olbric squeals, hands flying back to the blanket over his head as he holds on for dear life. Seems like I’ve tamed the disobedience out of him - for now at least. I keep hold of the chain just in case.

“Good girl. That’s your last warning.”

I lift his other leg up and slide my hand down his stockings before I snap my hips forward, thrusting deep. He throws his head back, his hair a wild halo around him. The rouge Galiva and Ambra put on his lips has smeared even more, making him look well and truly debauched. I ride him hard, barely giving him a chance to breathe, let alone act up.

He takes every inch of me, a low string of moans escaping from around his gag. The tight heat of him clenches around me, and I force myself to slow down, lest I end it too soon. Olbric whines when I do, and I smirk as I give him a long, leisurely thrust.

“You like it when I fuck you hard, don’t you?”

He looks at me with wide eyes, pupils big as marbles. I remember that look from the last time I cast with him. That haze of submission and pleasure and naked lust. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing it. I reach down to pull the gag out of his mouth.

“Say it.”

Olbric bites his lip as he rides the slow thrust of my cock. “I like it when you fuck me hard,” he moans and wiggles his hips tantalizingly. “Please!”

“Please what?” I purr as I tighten my hold on the chain just a little.

Olbric arches, his hands holding tight to the blanket overhead. “Please fuck me hard.”

I snap my hips sharply, spearing him deep and wringing a shout of him. “Louder.”

Olbric trembles with need. He writhes under me, desperate and ready, and all the more beautiful for it. “Please, Dom! Please fuck me hard!”

“Good girl.”

I release the chain, grab the curve of his hips, and pull him towards me as I meet him with a sharp thrust. He cries out as I set a brutal pace, forceful enough to scoot him over the covers. Yet every time he gets too far, I yank him back by his legs, earning a shout as I reach deeper.

“Oh God, Dom. Fuck - please!” His hands fly to my shoulders, and this time I don’t have the concentration to punish him for it.

Instead, I murmur, “Let me see it, beautiful.”

He told me he’s never been able to orgasm from penetration alone, so I grab his cock to help him along. It doesn’t take more than a couple strokes before Olbric’s heat tightens around me, his legs constricting to pull me closer. My fingers dig into the reddened skin of his thigh as his cock starts to empty. He moans, high and breathy as I watch him paint himself with streaks of seed. It stains the corset, wetting his chest, and the sight of him, head thrown back in ecstasy, hands clenched in the sheets, unravels me.

My teeth bite down on his reddened thigh to muffle my moan as I cum hard, soiling him yet again. The feel of his tight hole milks every last drop out of me, and when I’m finished, I kiss the indents my teeth left on his skin. Olbric’s chest heaves, and he rests his arm across his eyes. His other hand stays clenched on the sheets overhead, and I notice that every focus around his fingers is charged.

I smile as I reach forward to unlatch the clamps, earning a throaty gasp from him. His nipples are red and abused, and I lean down to soothe them with my tongue. Olbric moans as he lifts his arms away from his face to blink owlishly up at me. It seems to take him a second to find his voice. “Good God, Dom.”

When I pull out of him, I’m rewarded with a quiet groan. I half-lay on the bed next to him, letting myself cool off a bit. I can’t help but loop a finger through his collar and draw him into a deep kiss. He returns it, and it’s so full of warmth and gratitude that I nearly melt with him.

I scoot us both a little more securely onto the bed and stroke Olbric’s mussed hair away from his face. He smiles at me, almost shyly, as I brush his cheek with my thumb.

“How was that?” I ask.

Olbric gives a small, breathless laugh. He doesn’t quite seem to know how to answer. “That was…” he runs a hand through his hair. “That was like being fucked for the first time all over again.”

I let out a small laugh as I pluck the charged focuses from around his fingers. I think back to my own first time in Airedale - all fumbling and awkward, more exciting than satisfying.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Olbric lets his head flop onto the bed as he lets out a long breath. “A good thing,” he says. “A very, very good thing. Fucking hell, Dom - that was incredible. You never stopped surprising me. And then when you put new focuses on? I thought I might actually catch on fire.”

Hearing him say it chases away the last shadow of doubt. Without a monitor, it was just me and Olbric playing off of one another. I set it up, carried it through until the end, and… he loved it. Warmth fills my chest when it truly sinks in.

I did it.

I beam as I pull out the other six focuses from my pocket. “We managed to charge them all, and you only came once.”

Olbric chuckles and says, “For now. Give me half an hour or so to recover.”

I smirk and give the ring on his collar a tug. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near through with you, and I’m pretty sure I bought you for the night.”

My thumb brushes his jaw as his eyes widen. We haven’t had a chance to discuss a duration for his first collaring, but I sure hope he’s up for a long night. A shiver of anticipation rushes through him.

Arlon’s words from earlier echo through my head. But now, seeing the pleasure and serenity on Olbric’s face as he looks at me makes me wonder if he’s right. Maybe I am enough.

“Are you up for it, beautiful?” I ask.

Olbric kisses me gently, the simple contact filled with all the love and trust in the world. And it’s a thrill like no other when he murmurs a breathless little, “Yes, Dom,” against my lips.

ALSO BY ALETHEA FAUST

Main Series:

Initiation, Sex Wizards Book 1

Mastery, Sex Wizards Book 2

Championship, Sex Wizards Book 3

Side Stories:

Storm Night, A Sex Wizards Story

Divination Practice, A Sex Wizards Story

Starshine, A Straetham Story (Garrett and Bridgette’s backstory)

Coming Soon:

Odyssey, Sex Wizards Book 4

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Alethea Faust is an international bestselling author of kinky, queer, erotic epic fantasy. Things you can expect to find in their works are risk-aware consensual kink, hard BDSM, non-toxic masculinity, kind and emotionally mature adults, and a lot of butt stuff.

They also have a Patreon, where you can find exclusive stories in the Sex Wizards world as well as early access to future books in the series. Read more at https://www.patreon.com/aletheafaust

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