“Barely,” I shrugged. “And only because I made the mistake of sharing my knowledge with you. If you hadn’t clutched to the hem of my robe, I doubt you’d ever have made it to Journeyman. You would still be in the blue.”
“Then explain why I passed and you didn’t?”
I fought off the lingering depression that had claimed me after my failure. “I made a simple mistake. I was over-confident. It had nothing to do with my skill in magic. Though I suppose it is good I did fail, else you wouldn’t have made the cut then.”
Saoria let out a screech and then stalked off through the street, the crowds parting before the angry master mage and her vitriolic snarls. Her simulacrum followed behind her with obedience. He had a nice ass.
They always did.
“She thinks she has the sweetest cunt on the tundra,” laughed Thrak, “but her nose is deadened to scents.”
I nodded my head in agreement, smiling at that imagery. “An earthy saying. Literal translation from orcish?”
“Mostly. It’s a little more…foul in orcish,” he grinned.
My stomach churned. “I think I can skip that piece of scholarly knowledge.” I slipped my arm around his waist. “Las’s poxed cock, but that was satisfying.”
“Forcing someone to confront their own limitations always is. Now let’s find that map.”
It was at the third shop, that I found something promising. “Here’s the last stack of loose maps, Mistress Mage,” Linissi, the daughter of the merchant, said. She had a heart-shaped face and a braid of light-brown hair falling off her left shoulder. She was young, not more than eighteen, and her lip trembled with innocence. “What is being a mage like?”
“It’s intoxicating,” I admitted as I carefully lifted each piece of vellum, parchment, and papyrus, studying what the portrayed before setting them aside. “You have the power of creation at your disposal.”
We were at the back of the stall. It was covered by a canvas owning and the back made up of shelves. There was a gap between the shelves and awning allowing Linissi to glance at the Collegiate Tower rising above the city.
“You want to be a mage?” I asked as I set the next parchment aside—it was a detailed map of Southern Valya.
“I do,” she nodded. “Though I’m scared. I hear you have to start young.”
“Age doesn’t matter,” I answered, studying the next map. It was a lord’s estate, showing the division of his lands to his peasant tenants. “All that matters is your desire to learn the elemental magics and how much you love cock.”
The girl blinked and her cheeks reddened. I imagined she was a virgin. “Cocks?”
I nodded my head, setting aside a map of a vineyard in Thlin. “Female mages have to love cocks. We worship them, suck them, drink the cum that shoots from them. Our pussies crave their girth plunging over and over into us, and even our assholes tingle to be penetrated. Our magical power comes from a male’s sexual energy. For men, they have to love pussy.” I looked her in the eyes. “Do you love cock?”
“I…” She glanced at her father conversing with Thrak out front. “I’ve never been with a man before.”
“So you have no idea if you love cock.”
“The idea makes me…wet,” she admitted. “And I stroke myself thinking about it. But my father…he is very protective of me. He sees my mother in me, and since she died when I was young…”
“Well, perhaps I can help you out,” I told her. A wicked thought plunged into my head. Thrak deserved a little reward for humiliating Saoria. “I know a cock that would teach you if you loved them or not. Then I’ll write you a letter that you can present to the testers, and they can see if you have the aptitude.”
“You can do that?” she gushed, clasping her hands together.
“I can,” I smiled. “I doubt your father would object if I offered to guide you. We’ll just leave out the deflowering your pussy part when we talk to him.”
I set aside a map of the world that hinted of lands to the east. The famed lands of the dawn, the Okuwa Shogunate and the Oppain Empire. Some believed they were myths. Few sailors ever survived the voyages, and their tales were so fantastical many dismissed them as folly.
Beneath it was a map of tunnels. It was large. I had to unfold it several times, spreading it over the counter. It showed successive layers, descending down into the depths beneath the earth, with tunnels and mine shafts, labeled in the harsh runes of the dwarves. I read the top, struggling to remember my runes. “Being a detailed map of Modan’s Deeps, commissioned by the Kings of Azkiria.”
I smiled. This is what we needed. Azkiria was the second-to-last queen of Modan, and this map had been created by her seven husbands—dwarves were polyandrous. One in eight dwarves was female. Their women would marry up to seven dwarves. The females were always protected, kept safe by their husbands. Azkiria’s daughter, Kazodi, had succeeded her as Queen and died when the kingdom fell. It was probably the best map we would ever find. I folded it up and rushed to speak to Linissi’s father.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Acolyte Sophia
I groaned as Angela tipped the candle. The hot wax landed on my naked nipple. I gasped as the hot, sweet pain shuddered through me. “Saphique’s virgin cunt,” I blasphemed at the mix of sensations as the wax cooled over my hard, pink nipple. “That’s so amazing, Mistress.”
Angela smiled at me. “You like the pain, slut?”
“So much, Mistress. It burns then cools.”
Angela tipped the white candle again. The wax splattered between my small breasts, leaving drops of kissing heat as she moved to my other nipple. My pussy itched. My hands were bound together at the wrist and kept over my head by the rope tied to our bed. We were in our room at the Mage’s Quill celebrating Faoril’s discovery of the map.
I knew Faoril, Thrak, and the virgin they found in the marketplace were having quite the celebration in the next room. It was a shame the girl was about to be plucked by Thrak, but the orc wasn’t the worse male ever created.
I had to admit he had some good qualities. He did make me laugh.
“This nipple looks so plain,” Angela purred, toying with my right nipple. Her finger’s caresses sent flutters of delight down to my pussy. “I think it needs to be covered with hot wax. What do you think, slave?”
“I live to serve my Mistress,” I moaned, my thighs squeezed together as I squirmed in excitement. The other globs of wax cooled, soothing the pain the drops had created. “If it would please you to adorn my nipple in wax, then it would please me more.”
Angela grinned at me. She still wore her knight’s armor. It clinked as she turned the candle and the blob of wax fell and landed on my nipple. I bucked and moaned as the burning pain seared my nipple then immediately faded into cooling delight.
My juices flooded out of my pussy. My tart musk filled the room with its sweet delight. I breathed it in over the smell of the beeswax. Angela smiled, her blue eyes twinkling in delight. I loved my Mistress so much.
“Thank you, Mistress,” I moaned as she let more wax fall across my belly, leaving lines and drops of white cooling on my pale skin. I writhed as she moved lower and lower, reaching towards my bare pubic mound and my waiting pussy.