The Mage's Passion Read online

  I fell back on the grass and she lay atop me. I wasn't mad. My wife's spirit was real. I closed my eyes and waited for this new woman to appear.

  How could I ever love her as much as Serisia?

  Table of Contents

  The Mage's Passion

  Naughty Excerpt from “The Mage's Passion”

  Stories of from The World of Erasthay

  Prologue: The Haunted Barbarian

  Part Three

  Chapter One: Fireeyes's Secret

  Chapter Two: The Elf's Massage

  Chapter Three: The Simulacrum's Orders

  Chapter Four: Spiritual Disturbance

  Chapter Five: Milky Exorcism

  Chapter Six: Incubal Desire

  Chapter Seven: Stolen Virginity

  Chapter Eight: Changes

  Chapter Nine: Chained

  Chapter Ten: Goddess of Purity

  Chapter Eleven: Prowling Rage

  Chapter Twelve: Passion's Cure

  Chapter Thirteen: Rebirth

  Chapter Fourteen: Whispers of Prophecy

  Chapter Fifteen: Sparring

  Chapter Sixteen: The Barbarian's Wife

  Chapter Seventeen: Sexy Precautions

  Chapter Eighteen: Eagle Eyes

  Chapter Nineteen: Wolf Pack

  Chapter Twenty: Orcish Passion

  Chapter Twenty-One: Aftermath

  Chapter Twenty-Two: The Mage's Desires

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Crossing the Orc Lands

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Threesome's Intimacy

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Phantom's Mistake

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Necromantic Dangers

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Warlock Unleashed

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lady Delilah's Plan

  Part Four

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Changeling's Seduction

  Chapter Thirty: Hermaphroditic Delight

  Chapter Thirty-One: Elf In Heat

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Sapphic Dream

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Elf Distracted

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Cracking Whip

  Chapter Thirty-Five: The Erinyes's Passion

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Bound Vengeance

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Jealous Reunion

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Virgin Delight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: Old Oaths

  Chapter Forty: Song of Unbridled Lust

  Chapter Forty-One: Angela's Lover

  Chapter Forty-Two: Howls

  Chapter Forty-Three: Hunting Hounds

  Chapter Forty-Four: Vengeance Interferes

  Chapter Forty-Five: The Bard's Performance

  Chapter Forty-Six: Belly Dancing Lessons

  Chapter Forty-Seven: Sophia's Suspicions

  Chapter Forty-Eight: Hot Mage Menage

  Chapter Forty-Nine: Pitfalls

  Chapter Fifty: Darkness

  Chapter Fifty-One: The Dwarf-Queen's Hot Demands

  Chapter Fifty-Two: Ooze's Delight

  Chapter Fifty-Three: Lurking Horror

  Chapter Fifty-Four: Dwarf Queen's Anger

  Glossary

  Part Three

  ~~~

  Barbaric Splendor

  Chapter One: Fireeyes's Secret

  The Simulacrum – Allenoth Highway, Magery of Thosi

  I knelt next to the corpse that used to be my master on the hill overlooking the burned wheat field. I stared calmly at the four women that surrounded me. They were my master's enemies. They had killed his mortal vessel. But I knew he was not dead. I knew the lengths my master had gone through to insure his continued existence beyond his vessel's termination.

  The scent of death lingered in the air, mixed with ash and fire. Swaths of the wheat field had burned during the fight with my master. A pile of corpses, my master’s servants, fouled the field next to the smoking patches.

  I did not look at my Master's corpse. It was hard to keep my gaze away. Curiosity itched at me to stare at it. His blood stained my hands and body. The elf had feathered him with two arrows, catching him completely unaware. His attention had been focused on the knight, the acolyte, and the mage dueling his corpse automaton.

  “Who is this Fireeyes?” the knight asked. Fiery hair spilled over the shining pauldrons of her armor. Her large breasts filled out her half-breastplate, an impressive cleavage. Her shapely legs were covered by thigh-high leather boots and steel greaves, and a chainmail loincloth dangled from her sword belt.

  “A foul mage,” the journeyman mage answered. She was Thosian, like most mages, with pale skin and short, dark brown hair. A silver nose ring glinted in the sunlight. She wore the red robes of a journeyman mage, but she was skilled. She had disrupted master's automaton. “He delved into dark magics and performed experiments on humans, sometimes while they still lived.”

  Master was a great mage. He delved into the secrets that his brethren were too weak and cowardly to explore. Master had discovered the secrets of life itself, preserving his soul in a phylactery that I had hidden in my pussy along with the tracking amulet.

  The amulet's mate dangled between the knight's breasts.

  “He sounds horrible,” the acolyte gasped. She was slim, dressed in the white robes of a priestess of Saphique, goddess of virgins and lesbians. The knight was on her Quest to fully join the ranks of the Knights Deute, and the acolyte was her companion, sent to aid the knight in her duty. “What a monster.”

  My Master was a great man. If I was capable of emotions, I imagine I would feel indignation at her tone, maybe even anger. I was glad I had no emotions. Simulacrum did not need them.

  “He is terrible,” the mage spat. “A monster. The Magery council has signed a warrant for his death. If he was discovered in the Magery, he would have been executed for his crimes. He had spent the last twenty years in exile, staying beyond the legal reach of the council. He was a warlock.”

  The mage grimaced as she said warlock.

  “Why would he want to kill me?” Angela asked. “That doesn't make any sense.”

  “Ask the woman,” the elf suggested. She was in heat, her cock dangling from where her clit should be. She stood naked after her race's fashion. My master always wanted to experiment on elves. Perhaps he would have his chance with her after I found him a new body.

  “She can't tell us anything,” the mage dismissed. “She's a simulacrum.”

  “So?” Angela asked. “She was with him. She must know something. Why did your master want to kill us?”

  “I do not understand the question,” I answered.

  “Yes, you do,” the knight growled, her face twisting. She seized my shoulders and shook me. I held my gaze steady upon her. I had my instructions.

  “Tell us why your master wanted to kill us?”

  “I do not understand the question,” I repeated, mimicking the response of a normal simulacrum.

  “She doesn't have a master anymore,” the mage groaned. “Simulacrum, why did your previous master try to kill us?”

  “I do not know,” I answered, following my Master's instructions.

  “She's lying.”

  “She can't,” the mage said. “She has to obey her master's command until she is released. He is dead. She was released. Now she serves the Magery Council and will answer to any mage.”

  “That is correct, journeyman mage,” I answered.

  The knight's face twisted. “What? That doesn't make sense. Surely he told you something. Tell us.”

  “I do not understand your request.”

  “Simulacrum are created with a limited intelligence,” the mage explained. “She may look like a person, but she has no soul and only a rudimentary intelligence. She was created with magic. She was just his power source. He would collect her pussy juices to fuel his magic.”

  “Which are copious,” the elf said, her cock hardening. “I can smell her excitement.”

  “Simulacrum are always excited,” the mage continued. “Males can produce copious amount of cum, and females prodigious amounts of puss
y juices. That's all they are for. Master mages are awarded one. She has been serving him for decades, but he would never tell her anything. Or, worse, he might have commanded her to forget all his activities when he died.”

  “That sounds horrible,” the acolyte gasped. She knelt down and hugged me. “You don't deserve that fate.”

  “I do not understand what you mean,” I responded, an honest statement. What did she mean by deserve? I was a simulacrum. I served my master and deserved whatever he chose for me. That was my purpose.

  “She is a simulacrum, Sophia,” the mage said, pulling Sophia from me. “Do not think of her as a person. She is merely a tool.”

  “A tool that can talk.”

  “There are birds that can talk,” the mage countered. “That doesn't make them intelligent or people. She merely parrots her instructions. She is not a person.”

  The acolyte shook her head.

  “So there is nothing we can get from her?” sighed the knight as she studied me.

  “Simulacrum, what can you tell me of your previous master's plans?” the mage asked.

  “I know nothing of his plans or intentions,” I replied. “I am sorry I could not be more helpful.”

  “What do we do with her?” the elf asked. Her hand stroked my smooth head. “Has she been mistreated? She has no hair. Did her master shave her bald?”

  “Simulacrum do not grow hair,” the mage dismissed. “It is simple. Simulacrum.”

  “Yes, journeyman mage.”

  “Do you see the highway?” The mage pointed to the road the group had been traveling on when my master attacked them.

  “I do, journeyman mage.”

  “You will head in this direction down the highway,” she pointed south, “until you reach the city of Esh-Esh. Present yourself to the Collegiate Tower and inform them that your master Fireeyes is dead and that you are ready to serve the Magery Council.”

  “Yes, journeyman mage.” I stood up, my pussy clenching around the pair of amulets trapped in my depths. I ignored the discomfort. I turned and walked towards the road.

  “You're just letting her go?” the knight demanded.

  “We can get nothing from her,” the mage answered. “She is property of the Magery Council now that Fireeyes is dead. She will return herself.”

  “But...what if someone attacks her,” the acolyte asked as I made my way down the slope.

  “No Thosian would attack a simulacrum. Especially not this close to Esh-Esh. She will be fine.”

  Their voices dwindled as I walked down the hill and into the wheat field. The fuzzy ends of the stalks tickled at my naked breasts as I marched through the fields. I passed the pile of corpses that had once been the crew of the Mermaid's Lover, a merchant ship. I had to climb over a fence to reach the highway.

  Like an obedient simulacrum, I turned south and walked down the road. I did not look back. After two miles, I pulled the amulets out of my pussy. I draped them around my neck and kept walking. The knight and her party had not followed.

  I began my search for my master's new vessel.

  ~ * ~

  Journeyman Mage Faoril

  I stared down at the corpse of Fireeyes. He was Thlinian, his reddish skin growing pale with death. The monstrous warlock that had killed seven journeymen and two master mages when they came to arrest him for his crimes had been killed by two arrows from an elf's bow.

  “He was too fixated on the battle,” Xera said as she jerked her arrows from his corpse. She examined the tips and let out a disgusted sigh. “Hit the bone and broke the arrowhead.” She threw the broken arrow down and slipped the other back into her quiver.

  “He was feared,” I told her. “A monster. They used to scare apprentices with stories of him. He doesn't seem so terrifying lying dead on the ground.” I bent down. He was not the first corpse I had seen. Cadavers, all of whom died of natural causes, were used to teach anatomy at the Collegiate Tower. His face was pale and his eyes no longer glowed red.

  They were brown, the pupils wide.

  “Why would he want to kill me?” Angela growled again. “It doesn't make any sense. I've never heard of this monster.”

  “Search his belongings,” Xera said. “We might find answers.”

  “I...I can't do this,” Sophia groaned, her face pale. “I'm just going to go sit over there.”

  Angela put a comforting hand on the acolyte's shoulder. The pair were close. Sophia seemed very much taken with Angela, but the knight was more reserved. A smile crossed Sophia's lips at Angela's touch. Then Sophia walked away and sat down at the hill's edge, her back to the scene.

  Xera ran her hands over Fireeyes's black robes. She pulled small artifacts out of his pocket: crystals, chalks, inks, and quills. There was nothing unusual about that. Angela opened a pack, spilling out changes of clothing, trail rations, a journal, and a bowl.

  I grabbed the journal and opened it.

  “I hope there's something useful in there,” Angela groaned. “Only other thing in here was this bowl.” She peered inside. “There are markings in the bowl.”

  “It's a communication bowl,” I answered without looking up. “It probably is linked to his employer.”

  “So we can use it to figure out who hired him.”

  I took the bowl and stared down at the runes. “No. It is a simple device. It would only be capable of sending a limited message. Blood is the trigger. It would cause a reaction in the corresponding bowl.”

  “My blood?” Angela asked.

  “Most likely.”

  Angela grimaced and threw it aside. “That's foul.”

  “He was a foul man,” I said, staring at the journal. It was hundreds of pages, written in a tight, cramped handwriting detailing his research. I flipped to the back, hoping the newest entries would be more illuminating.

  Experiment on the principals of domination and the binding of necrotic flesh. I grimaced as I read the passage. It detailed his plans to turn the crew of a river boat into his mind slaves while simultaneously preparing their corpses to be gathered into an automaton. His magic circles were drawn out, and he had even selected which crew would be given which ones based on the qualities he identified with them.

  “Anything useful?” Angela asked.

  “Only if you wanted to make another monstrosity like the one we fought,” I answered. I flipped back a page. It detailed the vivisection of a pregnant woman and his experiments upon her fetus. The dates, weeks older than the corpse abomination. I worked back. “Nothing on who hired him or why he wanted to kill you. Only his foul experiments.”

  “You should burn that book,” Sophia said.

  I blinked. Destroy knowledge? “No. He is dead. He can't make use of it any longer, but there may be knowledge to glean from these pages.”

  “From a man that created a corpse monster?” Angela demanded. “Pater's cock.”

  I slipped the journal into my pocket. “Maybe good can be created from his evil.”

  “But, people died from his research,” gasped Sophia.

  “And there is no point letting their deaths be in vain,” I countered.

  Sophia stood up and turned around, her eyes wide. “But...but...”

  “I know,” I told her. “It is disgusting what he wrote.”

  “Pater's cock,” Angela swore again. “So we have no idea if he even was hired? We have no clue why he tried to kill us? Me?”

  “Life is always full of questions that cannot be answered,” Xera said. “What point is there in dwelling on them?”

  “What if we have other enemies to worry about?” Angela demanded. “It's bad enough I'm on this nearly impossible quest to slay the dragon Dominari, but now I have to add this on top of it?”

  Sophia suddenly embraced Angela. “We're here for you. We'll find all the pieces of the High King's sword, reforge it, and support you. We killed Fireeyes. We will defeat any opponents we come across.”

  “Sophia,” Angela whispered in shock. “I...”

  Sophia
kissed Angela, her arms tight about the knight's neck. Angela had a growing smile on her lips and her blue eyes brimmed with tears. “Thank you. I can't believe I used to think you were a liability on this trip.”

  “I was at the start,” Sophia nodded. She broke the embrace. “We should keep going. We have a long journey ahead.”

  I looked to the north. We were heading into the barbaric lands of the orcs. The first piece of High King Peter's famed sword, forged by the God Krab himself, was at the ruins of Murathi at the tip of the Larg Peninsula. It would be dangerous to cross the tundra. Orcs did not like outsiders.

  I took a deep breath. I would help Angela reforge the sword. I would cast one of the most complicated spells to fix it and regain my reputation after my failure taking the exam to be a master mage.

  “Let's go,” I nodded. Then I groaned—I would have to ride that demonic horse again.

  Chapter Two: The Elf's Massage

  Xerathalasia

  My cock swung between my thighs as I walked down the highway. Sophia, Angela, and Faoril rode their horses. Faoril still looked miserable on her second day riding a horse. It had taken an hour to round up the mounts after the fight. Horses, it turned out, did not like necromantic magic.

  But now they were happy to be carrying their riders and walking down the road in their herd.

  I didn't ride a horse. I could walk as fast. Humans were so slow.

  My cock itched. It was my last day in heat. Tomorrow, my cock would be gone. The tip ached as we neared the village of Etian. The sun sank low. My cock wanted to fuck. She wanted to impregnate anyone she could.

  Luckily, I was in human lands. I couldn't impregnate any duel-sexed race. Back home, the only pussy I could fuck was my wife's Atharilesia. I missed her. She was pregnant with our first child. I would miss our daughter's birth, but Atharilesia was right, the quest was more important.

  The oracle had spoken.

  My sister would take care of my wife, keep her company and support her during the birth. Sometimes I wondered if I would ever see my wife and our daughter again. This quest was proving far more dangerous than I had thought.

  But the Lesbius Oracle gave a prophecy. I was needed to help Angela. I couldn't turn my back on the words of a prophecy, no matter how much my heart begged me to return to the forest. A few days travel to the west, and I would be home again.