The magelight flared in blue-greens, weirded teals, red shadows. There was a pause, a hanging few seconds of silence. Uncertainty. Possibility…
Spell runes still sizzling and fading in her hand, Lyri collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in the covers. Her curly mop of black hair was a silken mass, a blanket to hide her shame. She lay there for a few moments before beginning to mumble incoherently, pathetically into her mattress.
Barrow sighed. He looked at the bit of dirt beneath his fingernails, worked a bit of magic, and cast it away. He was clean once more. He listened to Lyri’s unintelligible tirade while resting his chin on his knuckles, his elbow on his knee, his posture slumped forward.
She was hopeless. This was…what, night four and the girl couldn’t even work a light spell. Her hands were all wrong, clumsy and slow. Her words were wrong too. She kept mispronouncing basic runes. The worst was her theory. She’d hit upon the idea that magic was somehow innate, personal, which was wrong. Flat wrong. Every wizard her age understood that.
As Lyri began slamming her closed fist into her mattress, Barrow sighed again and rolled his eyes. His blonde hair was neatly parted just off center right, his red irises shone in the magelight. He was small for his age, the son of a fisherman and a fisherman’s wife. His height and wiry create weren’t a disadvantage when you were learning to move 500 pounds with your will.
He looked over at Lyri. She was cute, in her way. Her butt wriggled back and forth as she wallowed. He liked her voice, a pleasant…there was an unfettered hopefulness in her that was startling to hear, but after a while…
He blamed nepotism. She was the daughter of one of the deans which explained her position here in the first place, her lacking skill entirely. Barrow’s place in this room was due to his being the son of a fisherman and a fisherman’s wife. He had to make connections which meant doing favors which meant…tutoring.
“It’s not alright!” she wailed, turning her head enough to communicate. Tears were welling up in her eyes and wetting the mattress. She buried her face once more.
…Barrow had nothing to do, so he looked around. He looked at her room. The decorations. The-
Something caught his eye. It was Lyri’s bag. Just under the flap, he saw a scroll.
“Are you leaving? Please don’t leave me!” she wailed.
“I’m not leaving!” he said, raising his voice. His annoyance at her was threatening to break free. “…What’s this…?” He leaned down and opened her bag.
“Hey! HEY!” Lyri shouted, clawing at his robes. “Don’t you know not to- Don’t touch that!”
The scroll was in his hands. It was not the academy’s paper. Some-
Lyri clawed at him, reaching for the scroll.
Her attitude, her voice had shifted. There was a desperation in her moves, her words that was unfamiliar, new, curious.
Holding the scroll out of reach, he completed the hand motions and spoke the words of a spell.
Lyri failed to withstand it, her body locking her into place, muscles tensed and frozen, her eyes were wide with panic, and she was off balance.
Barrow grabbed hold of her paralyzed form and lowered her onto the bed, he looked at her eyes, gazing up in…fear at the ceiling. “Relax, Lyri. You’re overreacting. I just want to see what this is,” he said, turning back to the scroll. He broke the wax seal and unfurled it.
Incantations, spell runes worked across the page in an unfamiliar ink, not foreign, maybe a custom batch? The spell belonged to the enchantment college and was…advanced. Very advanced. Very, very…
His eyes went wide, his jaw clenched. “This-” he stammered. A heat rose, an anger welled up across his neck and into his face. “This is-”
He turned and glared at her.
Tears ran down her cheeks.
“Do you know what this is?!” he shouted. “Do you know how- You’d be tossed out of here. In an instant! Your father, his career would be over if anyone found out what you had.” He glared down at her on the bed, then he released his spell.
Lyri gasped for breath, her face contorted in grief and pain. She wailed.
“…You know exactly what this is, don’t you? Who were you going to use this on? Huh? Some boy you’ve got a crush on, I bet. Pathetic. What, you want to turn someone into your drooling little pet? Is that it?”
At that, Lyri turned to face him, her eyes on his.
Barrow flinched. He hadn’t expected that. He’d expected her to turn away from him, not towards…
Now she turned away from him, curling up into a ball.
“YOU WERE GOING TO USE THIS ON ME? You were going to turn me into a drooling slave, hungry only for you?”
“I don’t expect you to understand!”
…Barrow watched her, a caution rising within him.
“I love you,” she muttered, turning to face him. “Don’t you see that? I just-…” She turned away again.
…Barrow’s brow furrowed. A rage, unthinking, a vengeance, petty and cruel filled him then. He pulled the scroll before his eyes, read the words.
Lyri turned, disbelief on her face. “Wh-”
Barrow’s spellwork continued. The runes of the powerful enchantment building across his hands, flaring across the scroll.
“Wait. Wait. Hold on,” Lyri wailed. She lunged for him.
The spell finished and Lyri failed to withstand it.
She paused, then she lunged at him, clawing for a grip on him. She was strong, a strength unexpected, her fingers grasping, exploring him.
She leveraged her weight against him, grappling his hips and lowering hers to offset his balance, throwing him onto her bed.
She landed atop him and straddled him, her limb busy, so busy. Her legs, her feet fell atop his thighs to weigh him down, her butt over his hips. He leaned forward, pressing her chest, her soft, generous breasts against his chest. Her hands rest against the sides of his face, her fingers gently holding him in place as she pressed her lips to his, her tongue slipping, exploring his mouth. She moaned and let out soft squeals of pleasure as she poured herself over him.
“Wai-” he stammered before her tongue found his. He’d never noticed her breasts before, all the time hidden beneath her academy robes. The gentle pressure of them was a hot balm, soothing the wrinkles over his mind, relaxing some part of him that he’d never known could be anything but tight.
She swooned, sighed, and cooed as she ran her manicured nails through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as her mouth slipped to the side of his face. Her tongue writhed along his ear, her hot breath so loud, so close. She nibbled on his earlobe and giggled.
Barrow was melting, a pool of hot sex, a soft, warm, clay that she rolled around in her hands.
She shoved the bed away from her, rising to straddle him and smiled down at him as she spoke the words of a spell, runes flaring across her fingertips. Her clothes erupted into soft white light, burned away, and were gone.
Barrow reeled in shock as his clothes erupted into soft white light, burned away, and were gone.
She smiled wider, laughing down at him as she reached to her hands to her chest, cupping her breasts and squeezing them in her hands. She was panting, her hair a tangle nearly concealing her sharp, hungry eyes.
Barrow was already erect, already ready for what was to come next. A distant, very quiet part of him thought if this had gone too far.
Lyri put her hands on his shoulders, leaned forward, raised her hips, lowered her hips, her ass, her pussy onto the tip of his cock, and engulfed him.
Barrow’s mouth was gaping, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He grabbed onto her thighs, digging his fingers into his flesh as he endured the mindless, animal pleasure she inflicted upon his body.
Her depths were a flame upon the head of his cock. Her lips were iron around him his length. Her wet juices were a tantalizing water, dripping down his cock, seeping across his balls. She bore down on him, smiling in a terrifying passion as she rolled her hips to take everything he had.
Barrow couldn’t catch his breath, he was grunting to keep up, then moaning as the air was sucked from his lungs. He grunted as he felt the shift behind his balls. His love, her reward was rising up through him.
She watched the play across his face. As she realized he was close she dropped her chest to press her breasts into his chest once more. She coiled her arms around him, digging her nails into his back as she nuzzled her chin into his neck. She kept him deep, his strength buried in her, her hips bucking, rocking quickly to milk him. “Give me your love,” she moaned in his ear, into his soul. “Deep inside me,” she whispered to him.
Barrow was a man no longer, but a thing drowning in his own body, every part of him aflame with pleasure.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Now.”
The climax tore through him, erupting into her heavenly embrace as she rocked her hips to take all of it. His face was locked in a stupefied paralysis, eyes unfocused, mouth agape, breathless.
She kept him there, cooing and sighing in his ear as she slowly, so slowly rocked her hips forwards and back. Eventually, she kissed his cheek and rolled off him.
Barrow managed to breathe. It was over. He-
Lyri turned, took his cock in her hands, and swallowed him whole.
He flinched as her lips inflicted more pleasure upon him, her tongue coiling around his head and rolling across the sensitive spot just under his head.
She sucked him clean of his cum, her juices. She-
Barrow couldn’t stand it. He looked down and watched her tip her head back to swallow his seed. He reached out his hand, spellwork flaring, and dispelled the enchantment.
The two of them looked at each other.
…Barrow collapsed back into the bed. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. That was too much. That was way too much. I didn’t. I didn’t mean for it to-
The air was knocked from his lungs as Lyri threw herself ontop of him. Gone was the beast of passion, but here was-
She laughed and giggled and kissed him, his cheek, his neck. “You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted to do that!” She sighed, rolling off him, wrapping his arm around her. “I mean, not all of that. I don’t know half of what I did just now. Do you think they have names for all that stuff?” He was lying next to him, her neck in the crook of his elbow. She had his hand in both of hers and was playing with it, running her fingers up and down his, across his palm. “I know there are books about sex in the library. I’ve read them all. Well, not all of them. Many of them. There are secret ones I haven’t been able to locate, and I’ve been too shy to ask for help. The librarian, you know her?”
Barrow opened his mouth to reply.
Lyri continued, “Well, she-”
Lyri looked at him. “…Yeah?”
“You’re sure? Because that was…”
“A lot, I know. And I am sorry.” Her body stilled. She looked away in search of words. “I wasn’t actually going to use it on you, you know? I mean, how could I? I can’t…cast…” She turned to look at him.
He looked at her.
They looked at each other.
“You cast a spell.”
“I cast a spell.”
Barrow blinked. “Wait, yeah, what? You actually did it. You cast one.”
“I DID IT!” She squealed and rolled around the bed and hugged him. She buried her face in his chest and screamed in delight.
“I don’t even know what that spell was!” Barrow tried to remember the runes he’d seen her use, but…they were gone. He’d been…preoccupied.
“I have no idea. I can’t…it’s a little fuzzy. I can’t remember what the words were.”
…Barrow took a deep breath, then hugged her tighter against him. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
…Lyri rolled into his embrace. She stared at him, her eyes glistening. She lowered her head to his chest and looked out across her bedroom. “We?”
“…That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
…She reached up and began to run a finger over his chest. “So…does that mean we can do that again?”
…Barrow smiled, and then he laughed. “Just let me take a short rest.”