Author of SF and Fantasy erotica

A flick of the wrist on both sides of the battlefield to cast back the cuffs of our sleeves, and the duel begins.

As expected, my opponent is brash and bold. She advances rapidly with a quick step of her feet across the stone and pushes towards my comfort zone. Her gilded red robes have the dual appearance of an exotic dancer and of a martial knight, wrapped across her chocolate skin in interlacing layers of strict firmness and fluttering showiness. Her clothing has trailing red sleeves and a flowing red skirt that catch the eye and demand attention, and the billowing silk is kept in relative order by the solid bracing of a silvery breastplate over her chest, a thick, black belt around her waist and wide bracers with gold filigree on her upper arms. I spy rings and bracelets on her fingers and wrists as she splays out her hand towards me. And from between her thumb and forefinger, she lays her chestnut eyes on me with a fiendish, predatory grin. Her bob of black hair, dyed at its tips into a fiery orange, makes a halo about her head as she pushes for first blood.

“Between light and shadow, a spark of ember calls my name…!!”

It’s the opening line of the Crimson Overture, and her sharp, sulphuric tones confirm my suspicion that she is a Capital-trained mage. As if her flashy outfit didn’t give that away sufficiently. The name she used to briefly introduce herself before laying into me was not a familiar one. But this Magna of the Eighth is typical of urban mages I have met in the past. The Academia Capitula is the cultural centre of human magical research, so they want their students to show off as much as possible. As the first licks of flame are manifested at her palm, called to life by her mana and the words of the song, I ready my defence.

“O Olympus, illuminated curtains of moonlight…”

My boots send up a clatter of scree below me as I slide one foot around in a semicircle and bring an arm about to shield my face from the coming flame. I hear the sound of distant waves in my ears as the mana in my blood attunes to the gravitational influence of the moon. The cold and dark domain of the persona Olympus will be sufficient to counteract my opponent’s fire for now. And the moon is a rocky and barren place, just like this cliffside campsite of mine near the peak of Mt Gekuro. Summoning the power of Olympus is simple when his domain matches my surroundings.

Ethereal darkness rises wave-like from the little rocks below my feet and roars upwards into a shielding curtain of twilight. I step back on my worn boots and let the strands of arcane black ripple around my leather workman’s trousers and about the waist of my tan jacket. The wind ruffles my hair and the green of my cotton cloak as I take a lengthy backward stride. I’ve dressed for climbing and study today, not for a theatrical stage like this Magna has. I almost wonder how she knew that I was a mage at all.

But I can’t spare the time to wonder right now, not when I’m trying to avoid being caught on the back foot. The fiery Magna spins about onto her other leg in a striding pirouette and lets her red robes flow about her as her lips continue to recite the second stanza of the Crimson Overture. She will burn away my protective shadows if she is allowed to conclude the chorus. I have to return her aggression with some of my own if I want to stop her in her tracks.

“Harken the pull of the void!” I shout with a lunge sideways towards the mountainside. “What binds thee? Naught but age! Stagnate not in the restive seat of the earth!”

“Wildfires unchecked screech a battlecry!!”

Our voices clash and tangle like wyrms of sound in the air between us. I notice that Magna is scowling as she aims her volley of song-conjured flame in pursuit of my steps. She will not have heard Shintao’s Conceit of the Eclipse before, the words that I am using to defend against her. I myself only learned the lyrics and movements thanks to my time living in the far east where mountain worship is rife. They do not teach such things in the Capital. She will not be able to anticipate what this incantation will do, and that is making her careful. As such, it does not surprise me when her next blast of flame is aimed downwards instead of straight ahead, creating a searing explosion of heat directly in front of her. She is using an aggressive spell defensively so that she can continue the Overture without leaving herself open. And rightly so, as a wave of loose stones rises suddenly from beneath her feet and batters at the undersides of her arms and legs. The woman’s recitation takes on a frustrated hissing quality as the bouncing rocks cascade upwards around her. And then again as they scatter down on her head.

“And I am left in the quiet…” I whisper.

The sibilance of the Conceit chains neatly into any of the Elven language incantations that I have memorised, and I choose The Silent Chamber. The meditative pumping of my blood as the background magic takes effect, metronomic in its consistency, will allow me to focus on preparing something bigger and more active to immobilise her. I simply hope that I can do so before she reaches her crescendo. The final lines of the Crimson Overture are legendary for their destructive power. I need to throw her off before she gets that far.

“Gekuro, can you hear me?” I utter under my breath. It’s not an incantation, just a simple plea to the mountain that I have been studying for weeks. “Lend me your weight.”

Before me, my red-garbed aggressor has one hand raised to prepare a ball of flame above her head. Her other hand is tucked tightly behind her back.

“Sol’s strength is mine own!” Magna growls out her recitation from between her painted lips. “And her heat…!!”

“We are dust, drawn ever downwards!” I counter. I’m sweating from the vicious flames and the effort of all my leaping about. “Come, O children, to thine place of genesis!”

“Take the heart and seal it…”

Her musical voice is merely a whisper. But still, it causes my chest to lurch anxiously. That is not a line in the Crimson Overture! The fireball overhead wisps out of existence as my enemy abandons her song and swaps seamlessly into something else. Words I’ve never heard before.

And while I am frantically reconsidering using the incantation I designed in my studies to end this fight, that hand she had tucked behind her slender waist emerges in a flurry of red silk and dark skin. It’s holding a white paper package, and a wick of string is fizzing angrily from the bound neck of the projectile. She tosses it at my feet. I step backwards but come up against the rocky wall of the mountain. And then, a burst of brilliant light.

I am blinded. The shadowy protection of Olympus has been growing ragged under the fiery mage’s onslaught, and now it provides no shield at all to the incandescence. I slam my wounded eyes shut, my ears ringing painfully, as her handheld firework explodes with a shriek around me. And an eerie, unexplainable bout of vertigo overcomes me.

I am up against it now. This is dire indeed. I must rely not on thoughtful planning, as is my want. I must act on instinct. And with Gekuro a towering presence at my back, his stone is all I have on my mind. I finish my spell.

“O-Obey the mount!!”

It’s an incantation of my own creation, the product of my lengthy study into terrestrial magic. I lash out my hand into the blinding light towards where I think my enemy stands. And something happens. The power rushes out of me at the call of my voice. Whether that power takes effect or not, I can’t presently say. Still, I lunge forward on my other leg and plant my weight heavily in a forward-leaning stance.

“And now, by the Oath of ages, be silent!!”

I gasp as I launch my spell into the white void. It’s a desperate play for control. And I have no means of seeing whether I have been right to bet on stone and chance. Not until the colourful lights in my eyes have faded. I am forced to wait. I take deep breaths, and I wait.

When the last of my blindness fades, I stare. Magna of the Eighth is kneeling in the rocky rubble of the plateau. Her arms are being pulled downwards by a powerful, invisible force. Specifically, the metal in her rings and bracelets is being drawn magnetically to the core of Mt Gekuro beneath her knees. Her breastplate also appears to be slipping downwards, so perhaps that silverwork is just painted on. She has a frustrated snarl on her full lips, and her brown eyes are alight with fury. And around the skin of her neck, a glowing band of mana.

The Oathseal. It’s one of the very first spells any decent master teaches their pupils. It silences the resonance of an opponent’s incantations. It renders their spellcasting null, in other words. Easy to defend against if you know it’s coming and you have your hands free to make the countersign. But thanks to my new spell holding her in place, Magna was powerless to do anything about it.

I take a step backwards and lean against the cold stone of the mountain, breathing deeply. My skin is laced with a sweat that soaks into my cotton undershirt and drips into my eyes. But the chill of the cold mountain air is soothing on my skin. It rushes in over the pine treetops far below the edge of the plateau, all the way from the distant peaks of the mighty Naga’s Spine mountain range to the south. I had just about become jaded with this glorious natural sight. Today, with my battle victorious, it is as though I am seeing it once again for the first time.

Lyrical laughter breaks me out of my exhausted reverie. Magna is smiling, and it’s quite a sight. She has her head tipped back, and her short mane of carnelian-tipped hair is brushing her red-robed shoulders. I cast my eyes over the sharp features of her expression, her straight nose and smooth cheekbones, and discover once more that she is very beautiful. These Capital girls really know how to draw the eye, after all. Magna fixes me with a proud smirk from her entrapment, and I feel a rush of excitement in my chest at her attention on me. No longer prey for consuming, now an equal to be parlayed with. It’s a nice place to be.

“That was well fought…” she says with a sigh, “…What was it that you said your name was again?”

“You didn’t give me the chance to say,” I remind her. “It’s Bram, though.”

“Bram,” she repeats with a wry smile, her lips twisting as if savouring the taste of my name on her tongue. Her voice is confident and deeply musical, a natural mage’s voice. “Of the?” she asks, tilting her head to one side.

“Of the nothing,” I tell her. “I’m not Capital-trained. I’m homegrown.”

“Ah, a heretic? That explains a few things.” Magna remarks with a chuckle. “I have never faced an opponent who song-chained from the common tongue to Elvish and then to… was that Dwarvain I heard?”

“Gekuro is the mountain’s name, but yes, it’s Dwarvain. It means… s-stout bottom.”

“Does it now?”

Magna’s teasing grin causes flame to light up my cheeks. I defeated her, right? So, why is she acting as though she is in control? She is behaving like a tutor praising a star pupil, even though the two of us must be roughly of the same age. It mystifies me that she is able to remain so aloof from a forced kneel with her clothing so dishevelled. It must be something they learn in the Capital. I swallow the nervous lump in my throat with effort.

“Very well then, Bram of the Mountain,” she sighs suddenly. “By the ancient Oaths of magery, I confirm thy hard-won victory. Now, what would you like?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come now!” she tuts. “Even a hermitic heretic like yourself must be aware. I challenged you to a duel under the ancient Oaths. As victor, you may take one favour from me. What would you like me to do?”

I had heard of something akin to this tradition, yes. Something about ritualised martial contest, common among the mages of this metropolitan continent. A means of limiting unnecessary deaths among prideful trained mages. Avoiding such distractions to my study was one of the many reasons that I retreated to a life of solitary writing and contemplation on the plateaus of the mountain. I narrow my eyes at Magna.

“I would like you to return down the mountain and leave me in peace,” I tell her.

“You cannot be serious!” Magna laughs loudly. “You have won a dear prize, Bram! I would advise that you do not squander it! I may even insist that you take something from me. If word gets out that I was allowed mercy after losing a duel of incantations, my classmates will not let me live it down!”

“Alright, then.” I fold my arms and adjust my lean against the wall of the mountain at my back. I’m starting to regain the sensation in my extremities, thanks to the ongoing influence of the restorative words of The Silent Chamber. My fatigue feels far away. “If you had won, what would you have taken from me?”

“Is it not obvious?” Magna asks with a toothy grin. “I would have demanded a read of your grimoire.”

“My… book of incantations?” I ask.

“You are here for some sort of study, yes? I would have read and noted your progress in whatever it is you have been dedicating your time to. Then, I would have taken what I learned back to the Capital, where I would have filed in a scrivener’s office to have your studies licensed as my own.”

I let out a hot breath through my lips. That was dirty. About as dirty as using a firework in a magical duel, actually. But my mind recalls the old stories of my teacher, the ragged, black-cloaked mage known only as Mantle who lived in my village. Something like Magna’s plot had happened to him when he was a fledgling magician, I remember him saying. It was why he had hidden himself away in rustic secrecy as an unrepentant misanthrope, as he was when I met him.

“Then it is a good thing that you were defeated,” I say with a stern frown.

“Do not judge me so harshly,” Magna retorts with an unabashed smile. “It is how we play in the Capital. This game of ours can have only one victor. And our art, Bram, your art, is at its heart a selfish one.”

“You say so, even when you make use of incantations developed by generations of previous mages,” I scoff. “What selfishness is that?”

“Oh, I am sorry,” laughs Magna. “Did you ask for permission to make use of the Elvish words you threw at me earlier?”

“That is… a different issue!” I snap. “The Silent Chamber is a well-publicised incantation that anyone may access!”

“And who composed it to the page, do you think?” Magna sneers. “A human mage, no doubt. Not an elf. A thief.”

I shake my head dismissively. As right as she may be, I don’t feel like bandying words with her. Not when I beat her fair and square!

“The Silent Chamber, then?” Magna smiles, and her lips are a good deal softer now that she has ceased arguing. “That explains how you were able to summon the Oathseal after the… whatever it was that you did to pin me here. Would you mind letting me free, by the way? I can do much more for you with my limbs unhindered than trapped like this.”

My finger taps on my sleeve uncertainly. “Are you going to behave?” I ask her. “You did admit that you would steal my research if you had won.”

“I am under Oath,” she shrugs. “As you should well know, while sealed, I cannot move against you in any way I believe you would deem unfair. Not until the next full moon. And may the Oath seal my heart’s beating if I ever manage to do so.”

I narrow my eyes at her. It’s tempting to trust her pretty smile…

“I would so like to be released, Bram,” Magna smirks. “Unless… you had plans for me on my knees?”

She bites her lower lip as she recognises my embarrassment, and she laughs when I cannot muster the breath to argue.

“I hope that our duel showed you that I am skilled with the use of my mouth,” she teases. “And I do enjoy having a man’s wand inside it. Why not give me a chance?”

“Th-That’s…!” I stammer.

“Yes, how about that!” she giggles. “Bram of the Mountain. By my Oath, I agree to remain sealed until I bring thee to climax! Over and over, until thou art satisfied! I think we will both enjoy such a reward, don’t you?”

I swallow. Her smile is heated and potent, and a throbbing stiffness has begun in my trousers. My mind, seeking to reestablish control, attempts to locate some physical blemish on the lovely woman still sealed by her wrists to the mountainside. But whenever my eyes think they spy a wrinkle or bruise or anything at all that would detract from her beauty, it vanishes as if it was never there. Her smooth skin like varnished, aged wood. The starlight glittering of her eyes, the lush tones of her dyed hair. I wonder briefly whether some act of magical glamour is responsible for this pristine beauty, but then I recall her resonant bonds. She could not focus on such an incantation while sealed by Oath. My eyes rove to the way her metallic bodice has slipped down her chest. The plating is currently squeezing the underside of her breasts and pushing a staggering expanse of cleavage up and out from the hem of her red robes.

And it has been awfully lonely up here on the mountain.

“You are certain?” I ask, pushing myself off the rocky wall and approaching her slowly.

“I have set my Oath, and I shall not relent,” Magna chuckles. “Come here and allow me to repay my debt.”

While I am still tucking my thumbs into the waistband of my trousers, Magna opens her red-painted lips wide to receive me. She sticks her tongue out with a lusty gasp and stretches her neck towards the mound visible beneath my clothes. It has been a long time since a woman has done this to me. I wonder if it feels as good as I recall.

I tug my rod out into the chill mountaintop air, and Magna chuckles approvingly. I tentatively thrust myself towards her face, and she makes up the distance with a greedy lick of her tongue. Her wet flesh draws across the underside of my cock in a long line that ends with a kiss on my swollen head. She kisses my member all along its length, even down to where my shaft connects to the swinging lumps of my testicles. She is very flexible, even bound to the floor as she is. Then she runs her lips once more up along my sensitive skin with a proud smile.

“Don’t dally,” she whispers against my tip. “Have your way with me!”

I slide my cock into her mouth, and she begins to suck at once. It feels just as I remember. Magna’s tongue lashes about me possessively as she begins to bob her head along its length. She moans out little sighs of effort from receiving me, and each one is a note of music in a concerto of pleasure. An incantation of desire. I feel my knees weakening as she draws the hot, wet sensation out of me. I feel my eyes rolling back in my head.

Magna releases me with a smack of her lips suddenly, and she laughs at my frustrated scowl. “You are putting my classmates to shame, Bram,” she giggles with the red of exertion in her cheeks. “They really do grow big, strong boys out in the villages, don’t they? But fear not. I have sworn an Oath. This mighty member shall not overcome me. I will drink your come yet!”

She opens wide once more, and I waste no time planting myself into her again. I thrust against the movement of her mouth, and I feel the very edges of her throat like a wet vice around the throbbing of my tip. Is that the buzzing of the glowing Oathseal that I can feel through the inside of her throat, or just the reverberations of her moaning? I can feel the hissing of her breath from her nose against the tangle of my pubic hair. And when her pace begins to relent, I slip my hands into the sleek smoothness of her citrine-tempered locks and pull her into heavier bobs of her head. I groan out my pleasure into the crisp air. I relish the burn in the muscles of my thrusting hips with perverse joy.

I feel my magical hold on her slip the moment before it happens. My new spell, the chant that draws upon the magnetism of the mountain, still needs a lot of refining. And with my mind now addled by the sex of Magna’s mouth, I cannot keep it up. Gekuro releases his grip on her with a wave of energy that buffets our clothes.

“A-Ah, yesh!” Magna gasps deliriously on the backward tug of her head and then raises her hands up from the little rocks of the mountainside to shake out her wrists with a grin of relief. I wonder if this was part of some sort of ploy to free herself from capture. But in the next moment, she has her hands on me. With one, she loops her fingers tightly around the base of my shaft. I can feel the chill of the metalwork of her rings against my bare skin. With her other, she plants her palm on the soft excess of my rear. And she redoubles her efforts to bring me to climax. With wet, sloppy moans of effort, she sucks me. She drains me. Her voice inches upwards into desperate keening as she tastes my precum.

My whole body shakes as I climax into her throat. Magna plants her lips against the fingers around the base of me and holds me deep inside her as I release my hot, sticky load. I can feel the twitching of her oesophagus as she swallows down the ropes of semen splattering messily against the back of her throat. Her hand on my bum is a tight vice that prevents me from pulling out, even if I had wanted to. And we are motionless together for long moments as I drip the last of my load onto her tongue. She draws herself off my cock slowly. Her lipstick leaves a messy, red smear in a ring around my skin.

Magna sighs deeply to recover the breath in her lungs. I have mussed up her lovely hair with my hands, but I hold back the desire to fix that for her. She kisses my slick erection with a playful purse of her lips and then sits back on her feet with a proud grin.

“Impressive, no?” she chuckles. “You will not find girls who can do that out here in the wilderness, I am sure!”

I can say nothing, as I am still trying to put my mind back together from Magna’s immense gift. When I don’t respond, Magna pushes herself up into a stand with a wince on her face and a stretch of her spine. She brushes off the dust from the knees of her skirt and wiggles her fingers to return blood to them. Then she stretches her hands up over her head with a pleasured grimace of effort. I watch her loosen out her body dazedly. Her breasts are about ready to pop out of the top of her bodice.

And when her eyes lock onto me again with a curious smile, I feel a jolt in my chest and along the firm ridge of my cock. The twitch draws Magna’s eye curiously downwards, and she smirks approvingly. The member is wet and slick, but still reddened both by pumping blood and her lipstick.

“My, I would have thought your rod spent after the legendary work of my mouth,” she teases, taking a step back towards me. Lightning shoots up my spine as she reaches a hand downwards and taps her fingertip playfully on my erection. “But behold! He is still fully loaded, if I did not know any better.”

My mind is still recovering from her treatment, so only the primal parts of my psyche are available to me. When she moves to draw her hand back, I push myself into her space and grab her wrist, keeping her touch upon me. With a lusty moan, Magna lays her free hand on my shoulder and tightens her fingers around my cock, tugging at me teasingly. She looks up into my eyes. She’s about a head shorter than me, I see now that we are standing together.

“Th-The Silent Chamber,” I explain unsteadily as she rubs me. I begin thrusting my cock against the silk folds of her dress. “It encourages b-b-blood flow and rejuvenation.”

“Ah, of course!” she laughs. “No wonder this weapon of yours is still primed for release! It still has so much life left in it. I shall have to remember this,” she adds with a sly smile. “For the next time I am out on the town. But it does mean that, in order to fulfil my Oath, my duty to you is only just beginning.”

Magna presses against my chest with one hand and shoves me away. Her wrist slips out of my fingers as I am forced backward, and her fingers trail along my wet cock as it is released. I snarl with need. But I relent as I see what she is doing. Turning about towards the shape of my tent by the mountainside, she reaches behind her back and unclasps the black leather of her belt, letting it fall to the rocky floor with a clatter of its metal buckle. Then she begins to untie the knots of her breastplate along her spine.

“You study the mountain, then?” she asks, walking towards my campsite while still undoing her clothing. I follow, my cock a fierce dousing rod pointed straight towards her. “I had thought the taming of the natural world to be a redundant form of magic. We have alchemy and astrology now, you know Bram?”

“There’s a lot Gekuro has to teach us yet,” I tell her, prowling along behind her. My eyes fix on the dangling ties of her clothing at the small of her back, the alluring up and down of her bum under the skirt of her robes. “I think I proved that well enough by defeating you.”

“Ooh, well said,” Magna chuckles.

The mage loops her dark fingers into the ridge of her breastplate and then tugs. The whole thing comes away in her hands. Watching me over her shoulder, she holds the metal armour to one side of her body, smiles and then lets it drop. It thuds down to the rocky floor.

“You used the mountain’s power to attract my metallic accessories, is that right?” she asks.

“Metal is earth, and earth pulls always towards larger earth,” I explain, licking my lips. “I-I just had to remind your jewellery of where it came from, and it obeyed.”

“How fascinating!”

She turns, and I don’t bother to hide my stare. Magna’s red robes, now unhindered by the metal casing of her armour, fall open in front of her. Beneath, I see the centre of her breasts above the cheeky indentation of her navel. Is her chest bigger now than when I had faced her? Surely not, it must have been a trick of her clothing. At her hips, she is wearing small, lace pants, the sort that use very little fabric but that cost a small fortune. Why she thought to face me wearing such indecent clothing, I guess I shall never know. Magna moves her weight from one hip to the other under the heat of my gaze, and her thighs rub together over the tantalising valley of her pussy, hidden just barely by the black lacing of her underwear.

“What else does the power of the mountain allow you to do?” she asks with her hands on her hips.

And I grin as inspiration hits me. “You’d like to see?”

“Oh, yes,” she sighs.

I reckon I am about recovered from our battle by now, so I flick out my wrists and prepare to conjure. I summon to the forefront of my mind the long days and nights of climbing and digging in the earthen slopes of Mt Gekuro. I know him well, and as such, he rewards me with a measure of his incredible mass. I raise my hands.

“Obey the mount!”

Strangely, I don’t feel the usual rush of mana leaving my bloodstream. Maybe because I am not in peril right now, or maybe because I am excited and aroused. Maybe my body doesn’t feel this toll while dazed by post-climax relaxation. In any case, the incantation still does its work. Magna’s arms twitch as the bracers, rings and bangles are all pulled gently backward. Back towards the smooth wall of the mountainside. Magna laughs musically as she steps obediently back with the tug of the mountain. And just as she reaches it, I raise my hand upwards.

Magna yelps joyfully as she is lifted off the earth and is magnetised against the wall about a foot up from the rocky ground. Her booted feet dangle, but her arms are locked in place against the stone. Her legs escape from the trailing skirt of her robes as she kicks them out in playful struggle, and I am granted a view of the full, smooth length of them.

“Ooh, this is fun,” Magna whispers as I approach her. She falls still, fixing her lovely eyes on mine challengingly. “You really have me at your mercy now, Bram of the Mountain. Whatever are you going to do to me?”

As I step into her space, now matching her height, she reaches out the toe of one boot and strokes the side of my leg affectionately. My cock rubs up against the soft skin of her knees and smears some of her own saliva across them. And I reach my hands upward, slip my fingers under the edges of her robe along her collarbone, and gently open the clothing out like a soft pair of curtains.

I groan out my desire at the sight of her breasts uncovered. Magna is round and supple, her areolas black mounds with firm tips. It is too much. I relent to my primal desires and grope at her with the full stretch of my fingers. Magna laughs joyfully as I fondle her. I squeeze her tightly. And I thrust my hips into the dark fabric of her pants.

“Remember,” she sings with a wide, sharp smile, “my Oath is not complete until I drain you of the last of your semen. We could stand here all afternoon and tease one another with looks and touches, or…”

She lashes out her legs and encircles me, gripping me with her thighs.

“Or you could hurry up and take me!” she snarls.

Immediately, I step deep into the embrace of Magna’s thighs and slide my hands up her legs to her bum. I tug on her underwear. She isn’t willing to unhand my waist with her legs, so I resort to simply pushing the thin cloth to one side. Then I position my cock below my partner, hold tightly to her thighs and push it up and into her.

“O-Oh, good!” she moans out at once, eyelids fluttering and hands kneading air where they hang against the rock. “Oh, yes! This is what I was waiting for!”

She feels excellent. She is a hot vice around my cock as I thrust up and into her over and over. The slickness from her mouth’s treatment of me before blends seamlessly with the slickness of her sex. She is tight, but she drips with lubrication. I am able to reach the very depths of her with my thrusting. She feels good. She feels very good.

And if there is an odd sense of disconnect, an uncanny feeling that what I am seeing and what I am experiencing are two different things, I can ignore it. It has been a long time since I’ve gotten to do this. Hell, I had never done something like this before! I am going to make the most of it!

Magna’s head is tipped back against the stone as she gives herself to my treatment. Her hips, untethered from the mountainside, roll lusciously against my cock. She is hungry, and she pushes me to penetrate her faster. Her breathing turns sharp, shallow and musically resonant as I obey. I plough up and into her with aggressive snarls of effort. I can feel sweat on my brow dripping down my cheeks and my neck.

“O-O-Oh, yes!” she sighs. “Oh, B-B-Bram! Th-That’s it! Take me deep!”

I press my body fully against hers and push my face into her neck. Her silky skin still fizzes with the glowing band of the Oathseal, and it tickles my lips as I kiss it. Magna bends her head aside to allow the intimacy of my contact, and she barks out a hissing groan of pleasure as I run my lips against her skin. Magna smells of sharp spice, like cooking from the south, blended with the sparking ozone of the magical Oathseal. It ignites my blood. It drives my hunger. I rock my hips against hers again and again with the steady rhythm of my beating heart, gifted me despite my exertion by the words of The Silent Chamber incantation. And my sweaty, frantic, lusty persistence is rewarded with the hopeful surging of a second climax deep in my belly. I feel it rising to meet the heat of Magna’s pussy. I can feel her thighs and her lips squeezing it up and out of me. And I’ll give it to her! I’ll give it all to her!

“Y-Yes, do it! Finish inside!” she begs between gasps for air. “C-Come on! My mountain boy! Spread your seed inside me!!”

I deliver my load into her with my legs shuddering and a long, breathy gasp of release from my lips. I feel my semen rushing against insides of her pussy. I feel it filling her up. A wave of primitive pride washes over me as I use the tight confines of Magna to squeeze the last dregs of my come out of my cock. This makes her mine, a manic part of my mind insists. She is mine now.

But that thought flees from me the moment I realise that I have once again lost the focus of my incantation. Magna yelps and laughs as she is suddenly released from the wall and topples into my arms. I hold her up on my cock as best I can with my hands tight on her thighs and while she stabilises our shared balance with her arms around my shoulders. But I trip back over the bundled fabric of my trousers around my ankles, and I fall with a thud onto the rocky floor of the mountain’s plateau. Magna falls with me. She is laughing as we lie together on the scree, and she watches me wince from the new aches in my back. They feel very real indeed as I wriggle about to ease the pressure on my new bruising.

But it’s hard to feel the burn of embarrassment or frustration from our fall, as Magna is looming over me. She sits firmly on my hips and shades me with her silhouette. Her brilliant hair hangs around her face, so she raises a hand to brush it back over her ears. Then she lays her palms on my chest and smiles down at me.

“Well done indeed,” she says softly. “That was very special.”

“D-Did you… Did you finish, too?” I ask around the cacophonous pumping of my blood.

“Almost,” she grins. “It was awfully good. Better than I’ve had in a long time. You were very close. If only I hadn’t captivated you so dearly and drawn that lovely, sticky come out of you as soon as I had.”

I laugh tiredly up at her. “That’s right,” I tell her. “You are too damned beautiful.”

Magna’s hand slips up my chest to my cheek, and she strokes me tenderly. Then, her fingertips ease up around my ears and into my hair. She runs her touch through the thick strands with a playful, idle smile. Her red cheeks and full lips are saturated with afterglow, and I realise that I will fall for her if I am not careful.

“Well, then,” Magna whispers. “I don’t believe we are done here just yet, do you?”

She begins to knead her pussy against my cock with rolls of her body, and her eyes return to the predatory glimmering from our battle. She runs herself along the firm shaft of my member and soaks her pants with the slickness of its coating.

“I sense that you have at least one more load in there,” she grins down at me. “I am confident that this next one will be the end of my resolve. And you will get to see me climax, Bram of the Mountain. I hope you are looking forward to that.”

I nod my head eagerly.

“So, then. How shall we proceed?” she asks. “How would you like to finish with me?”

“This is nice.”

I raise my hands up the straddling legs of my partner and grip her waist firmly. Magna rewards me with a quiet sigh of pleasure and a renewed rub of her pussy’s lips along my shaft.

“Let’s do it like this,” I tell her. “Just like this.”

“I would love that.”

Smiling serenely, Magna leans in and kisses my brow. I would enjoy those lips upon mine in a mutual kiss, but she isn’t patient. She pushes up to a tall seat on my hips and stretches out her back with twisted smile of pleasure. Then she lifts up her hands to the folds of her silken robes and tugs them gently off her shoulders. She then detaches the bracers on her upper arms and allows them to drop to the stones alongside her. And lastly, she puts her hands on my chest again so that she can lift herself up and slide her pants off her hips, then tosses them aside. Her boots slide off her feet with a tug of her fingers.

And Magna is naked, save only for the rings and bracelets of her hands. If anything, the sparkling silver jewellery brings the rest of her nudity into stark, alluring relief. Magna stretches out her shoulders, sliding her fingers coyly around the slope of her bare breasts. And her hand continues to drop until it is once more wrapped around the throbbing shaft of my cock. She lifts it up so that it is perpendicular with my body and then eases herself forward.

“One final round, Bram of the Mountain,” she smiles down at me. “Finish me well this time!”

***

From her seat on one of the folding stools she has found in his campsite, Magna of the Eighth spares a glance up from her reading and towards the prone shape of her fallen victim. The young man’s name is Bram, she has learned from the adorable notation on the inside cover of his grimoire. He is a fair fellow, awash in the ruddy complexion of the outdoors and built of that curious blend of academic softness and survivalist hardness that is typical of hedge mages. A tastier prey than her usual, the slim young things that stalked the streets of the Capital like gilded roosters. Yes, Bram’s battle had been a fun one for Magna, a fitting break from the mundane norm of her other duels. And he had almost had her.

Magna wonders with a smile what state she would be in now had she allowed him to finish that curiously novel incantation that he had aimed her way through the haze of her firework.

The young mountaineer shudders once more. He is lying on his back on the little stones of this high plateau above the Gekuro Forest, and he is staring sightlessly up at the pristine, blue sky above. His eyes are glazed and sleepy and his body is relaxed. With the exception of one part of it. Magna finds her eye once again drawn to the awkward bulge in the front of the mage’s robust trousers. As she watches, Bram begins to thrust his hips dreamily. His sleeping lips emit a rhythmic moaning that is quite unmistakable. Though his carnal motions would be considered disappointingly subdued in a real partner, Magna knows that they are merely being masked by his slumber. In his head, Bram is no doubt having a much wilder time.

Magna’s spell is named Magna’s Scalding Lens. In truth, it isn’t so far removed from the source material she derived it from. Close enough to be considered plagiarism. But Lux, of Lux’s Rosen Mirror fame, had passed on recently, and her name would begin to fade out of academic awareness. Hopefully, Magna’s would rise to replace it as she likewise replaced her ancient spells. A touch of sharp emphasis on the lead-in of the Rosen Mirror to cut through the target’s resolve, a couple of altered phrases to better focus their dream into something more distracting, and then just a dash of spice. Finally, a simple translation from Lux’s Elvish to the common tongue of humanity utilised by the Crimson Overture, so that Magna can transfer her energy from one into the other at a moment’s notice. After months of refining, the Scalding Lens has become a quick, sharp attack that reduces Magna’s foe to a quivering, gyrating mess, forced to dream a lusty dream where a phantasmal Magna services them to their heart’s content. Allowing her to rifle through their belongings.

And Bram will be dreaming for some time, thanks to his uttering of The Silent Chamber. Magna has spent time with many partners who use those ancient Elvish words to prolong their cock’s resolve in the bedroom. She’s grateful of it today. All the better for her to get the full use out of Bram’s rustic grimoire. She turns the page and continues to peruse.

Magna smirks to herself as she reads through Bram’s notation of the Blossoming Spring Lily Chorus. The silly boy has written his uth rune upside-down. How charmingly provincial. Only, the more Magna frowns down at the young mage’s scruffy handwriting and moves the words of his rustic rendition of the Chorus around in her mouth, the more she wonders.

“Ueth,” she tries. “Uhth…”

Hm. Maybe there is something to that unconventional spelling that would add to the potency of the incantation. She makes a mental note to try an inverse uth another time and then moves on.

Bram emits a garbled sigh from his place on the ground nearby, and Magna dismisses his desirous voice with a shake of her head.

Now, here is the good stuff. Bram has clearly climbed Mt Gekuro to study the ancient hill’s natural energy. Towards the end of his book of incantations, he has begun to write, then scribbled out and re-written a new spell in familiar human script. Magna recognises the prime tropes for altitude, mass and earth in key locations in the incantation’s syllable structure. Then there are three Dwarvain characters she has to really think about. ‘GE-KU-RO,’ the name of the mountain. Words of obedience. Words of material resonance. It’s an interesting incantation. Unfortunately, Magna knows that it won’t be much good to anyone outside of the rocky territory of this exact mountain. Not even worth copying down, in other words.

“U-Uhh…” moans Bram.

And that’s before considering the complexity of the spell’s preamble, the element of the incantation which must be memorised before recitation. It’s a weighty and dense piece of lyrical composition. It would be very hard to keep in mind, particularly in the heat of battle.

“M-Mmhmm…!”

Very… hard to keep in mind.

“Oh… Ohh!”

And some of these sentences are very long, Magna acknowledges with a swallow as she runs her eyes across the page of the grimoire. Very long. It would be hard to wrap her lips around them and have them release their hot, slick magical energy down her-…

Huffing frustratedly, Magna slams Bram’s book onto her lap and closes her eyes. She raises her hands up to the orange tips of her hair and runs her fingers through her locks in a bid to focus. Focus. So very difficult to focus with that man humping the air so noisily nearby! Especially when she knows that he is thinking of her while he does it.

Magna hasn’t experienced this kind of distraction with other victims of her Searing Lens. Perhaps it’s this crisp mountain air doing something to her, or the majesty of the view over the tops of the pine trees of the Gekuro Forest. It is certainly a picturesque place to get one’s end away. And there is a certain charm to the rustic young mage now deep into the third round of his dreaming. Something about that mound he is keeping in his trousers that continues to draw her attention.

Frowning to herself, Magna takes her finger in one hand and removes a slender silver ring from it. She places it between the pages of Bram’s book so that she can recall her place later. Then she closes the grimoire, lays it on the stool and tentatively approaches her fallen prey.

Magna comes to a crouch on the stones beside Bram’s twitching body. She places her hands on her knees as she examines him. She takes in the up-and-down rhythm of his hips and the straining pressure in his trousers. It looks painful, as sex often does. But one of the many ways in which Magna justifies her magical thievery is with the thought that her victims are never having a bad time. They’re having a great time, actually. Their minds conjure up exactly what they wish to see and make it real. Though Magna is stealing their intellectual property, she is trading it for a sweet memory of a lay with a beautiful woman. That’s fair, no?

But Magna bites her lip as she takes in the quiet, dreamy gasping of Bram. His face is red with effort and his hands flex stiffly at his sides. And his poor cock must be so tightly constrained by his clothing. It is Magna’s duty as the woman with power over him to relieve some of that pressure for him.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, she leans over her victim’s body and tucks her fingers into the waistband of his trousers. Bram unconsciously rolls his hips against her touch, which makes her chuckle with pride. Then she tugs. He springs up and out of his clothing immediately, and Magna makes a little gasp without realising it. His swollen, red stiffness is impressive. Its perpendicular length is tall and proud. Just like the mountain, a peak waiting to be climbed. Magna finds herself licking her lips unconsciously as Bram, now freed of his clothing, continues to thrust his member up towards the blue skies above the two of them. There. That should make him more comfortable. She can go back to her reading now.

But Magna finds herself lingering beside the fallen man with one of her hands slipping unconsciously down and into the folds of her robes. Into the waistband of the practical, soft cotton of her baggy undershorts. She’s wet. Such a strange time to find herself so aroused. Magna begins to touch at herself with careful little strokes of her fingers. In no time, her touch is slick with her fluid.

It isn’t as though he’s not already enjoying her in his dream, right? And there is nobody around for miles. Perhaps Magna deserves to indulge herself just a little. Just this once.

Chuckling with self-deprecation, she stands to her feet and brushes down the skirt of her robes. Then she slips her hands between the folds and pulls down her undershorts, stepping neatly out of them. She stands over Bram. She kneels down and straddles him. And she pulls the opening of her clothing aside to expose her black pubic hair and glistening pussy to the skin of his thick cock. She lets him rub himself against her stomach, and she smiles proudly at just how desperately the poor boy wants her.

But Magna grimaces as she examines his cock a little more closely. Of course, he has already blown two thick loads into his own breeches this afternoon. His cock is slick in places with spent semen from his impotent climaxes. Rolling her eyes, Magna brings her hands up towards her face, spits, and then rubs her palms together to coat them in her own saliva. Then she reaches down, pushing through the last of her trepidation, and grabs Bram around his cock with both hands.

“A-Ahh…!” he sighs as she begins to rub him down with her spit, and Magna chuckles.

“Calm down,” she chides him quietly. “I haven’t even started yet.”

Eventually, he is as clean as she needs him to be. Magna wipes her hands on her robes and then lifts herself up on her knees. She inches forward and positions herself above his throbbing member. Then, slowly, she sits herself down and skewers herself on him.

“O-Oh, gods above!” she hisses as he fills her up. “Oh, excellent!”

“Ahh!” Bram agrees with dazed eyes.

Magna begins to ride. Bram’s pace is too slow for her liking and his motions are naturally masked by his lack of wakefulness. As such, she needs to take charge. Leaning backwards and looking down the angle of her body at him, Magna bounces herself up and down with a flex of her knees and a roll of her hips. She plants one hand back on his knee for balance, the way she often likes to do when astride a partner, and the other she brings forward to rub at her exposed clitoris above his penetrating cock. She doesn’t want to be here for too long. It feels dirty, as though she is stealing something that doesn’t belong to her. Not that such has ever given her pause for thought before. Best she finish her business quickly.

Holding tight to Bram, she pumps herself up and down. Magna’s breathing becomes short and vocal as Bram’s member rubs all along the inside of her. His shape is just right to hit that secretive place on the front edge of her that is electrically sensitive to touch. She angles her body in such a way that Bram’s tip pushes firmly and aggressively against her slick inner flesh. And she blocks out the ache in her knees caused by their rubbing against the stones beneath. Next time, she’ll have to defeat her opponent over a mattress! Or on the beach!

“Ahh, fuck!” she sighs, tipping her head back and shouting out her satisfaction to the mountain valley. “Fuck! That’s… Ahh!!”

“Mhmm, ah…!” Bram moans in concert with her voice. “A-Ah!!”

Magna blinks suddenly downwards at the feeling of hands on her body. And she laughs as she sees that Bram, still stuck in the mire of his dreaming, has reached up and begun pawing at her breasts over her metallic chest piece. That probably felt a lot nicer in the dream. She swats the boy’s hands away from herself with a proud grin and then redoubles her efforts to finish herself. He must be close to the surface to have this level of control over his body, so she doesn’t have much time left. She doesn’t want him to wake, now more than ever.

Rocking her hips rapidly and rubbing furiously at her clitoris, Magna snarls and growls as she pushes herself towards orgasm. She uses Bram’s body with savage abandon, giving herself fully away to her carnal needs. She gorges herself on him. She becomes drunk on him. And when the sleeping Bram reaches up and grips her bare thighs with his wandering hands, she doesn’t mind. It’s actually quite nice. She lets him hold her steady as she fucks him.

“Mm-mm-mmhmm!” she moans as her eyes roll back in her head and her body quivers and her mind twists and turns. “Oh-oh-ohh! Y-Yeah! Fuck!”

“Haah! Ahh!” groans Bram loudly. “Ahh! M-Ma… gnah…!”

And something about his dozy voice sighing her name pushes her over the edge. Magna leans forward into a stiff curl as her belly tightens up with the shocking pleasure of a powerful orgasm. She plants herself firmly down on Bram’s cock once, twice, a third time… And by that point, the orgasm is beginning to pass its crescendo and descend. Magna gasps out a long, growling moan of release as the aftershocks of pleasure explode within her. They pass slowly, leaving her dizzy and weary, wobbling atop her sleeping partner.

“A-Ahh!!”

Magna almost topples over as Bram suddenly skewers her anew with his sleeping cock, and her eyes widen as she sees the dazed man’s expression stiffen into a fierce snarl. His hands on her thighs become vicelike as his body rocks with a third orgasm. And Magna lets out a tutting sigh of exasperation as he shoots his load inside her. It doesn’t feel like much, and that is for the good.

“Are you serious?” she groans with a roll of her eyes as the boy beneath her slowly relaxes. “I am going to have to take something for that, you know!”

But Bram says nothing. His breathing slows as he eases into peaceful slumber once more. His hands slide off her skin and lay themselves on the stony ground. Curious, Magna reaches one hand forward and slides it under the leather of his mountaineering jacket, up against the cotton of his shirt. She presses down on his chest to take in the thudding impact of his heart. Slowing. Relaxing. And that big cock inside her is finally deflating. The Silent Chamber’s effects on him are coming to an end, clearly. Now, as is always the case with that particular incantation, he would need to sleep. And Magna would need to make her exit.

Before lifting herself off her dozing partner, Magna reaches up and brushes at Bram’s thick hair. If his dreams of her were complementary, then maybe she could afford to return here someday. She’d had some fun with him like this. Imagine how he might treat her while awake! Pondering this with a sly smile, she rises, brushes herself down, and takes her leave down the mountain slopes.

***

The sky overhead is a deep orange when I next open my eyes. My body feels stiff and bruised. But also soft and empty. My muscles are a strange mixture of soft and ache like I have just concluded a workout. Which I have, I recall.

“Magna?” I say aloud, sitting up on the stony floor of my plateau campsite stiffly and looking about. But I am alone. My fiery lover has made her exit, her Oath to me fulfilled. And what a fulfilling it was! That last time especially. I had been seeing stars by the end of it!

Tucking my limp member back into my trousers, which I was sure I had shed during my lovemaking, I stand up and stretch out my muscles. I have a headache, but from the chest down, my body feels a wonderful, warm sensation of satisfaction.

The rasping shout of a mountain corvid echoes along the valley and up to my temporary home. It’s late, and I haven’t accomplished any of the study that I had been meaning to do today. But I cannot fathom literature right now. Not when my mind is filled with thoughts of her. Magna. Her heat, her scent, the touch of her luscious dark skin. The feel of the depths of her throat, her pussy, squeezing my manhood. What a day I’ve had!

But as I walk towards my tent to contemplate an early evening meal, I stop. My folding stool is out of its storage and is set up between me and my tent. And my grimoire is lying atop it. Curious, I walk over and lift the book up. As I do, something slips from between the pages and tinkles to the stony floor. It’s a ring.

Did she read my book of incantations, as she had threatened to do? The Oathseal was meant to protect me from such thievery until the next full moon, so surely she would have found herself unable.

But my suspicions melt away and are replaced instead by a silly grin as I bend down, pick up and hold the ring between my thumb and forefinger. I let the sunset catch its smooth rim with an orange sparkle.

She’ll have to come back to get this, I think to myself excitedly.

shortstory