Magic Everywhere

Another soft sigh from Leila. Another lyrical murmur. "Thank you, my lord prince."

His tongue now steadied into a rhythm, flicking her nub, sucking her lips into his mouth, three fingers of one hand entering her lush wetness. She groaned. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her fingers grip the edge of the desk so tightly her fingers were starting to whiten. She pushed back slightly against him; hesitation in the gesture, as if fearing punishment. "That's a good girl..." Salif murmured, his voice approving. She moaned and pushed back harder, grinding her pussy in Salif's face.

Salif could tell that she was very close to orgasm; the tremors were running all through her body, he could feel the desperation in the clenched muscles of her butt, of the tightening grip of her pussy on his fingers. But she knew she would need his permission to orgasm, and by his initial order, she wasn't allowed to plead for his permission.

And so she struggled to contain herself, to pull back on the edge that his skillful tongue was sending her to. And this was a game Salif had played many times, as his tongue kept up its pressure on her heart-shaped pussy, slowing his fingers to give her time to recover, then speeding up again, until she was once more poised at the edge in helpless arousal, trying desperately not to tip over and allow herself that forbidden pleasure. And up, and down, and they danced that most ancient dance, Salif's heart warmed by her utter obedience to his orders, till at last, Salif took pity on her.

"Come for me, sweetness..."

And she came, in a shuddering burst of pleasure. His mouth stayed on her pussy, savoring her quivers, guiding her orgasm, shaping it with the unerring skill of his tongue, taking her to new heights of pleasure, and she shook in her bonds, a fine sheen of sweat covering her body, and finally, as the waves of pleasure receded, she slumped on the table, drained.

Salif straightened, pleased, this cock straining against his jeans. Gods, no woman on this world ever came with the same kind of sweet release. For fifteen years, he had not allowed himself to remember the sweetness of his three pleasure slaves, Nina, Arya and the much-lamented Katya. Their laughter and their cheerful, teasing obedience to his wishes. He closed his eyes. All the old memories were surfacing tonight, brought on by the presence of this girl kneeling at his door, a reminder of everything he'd left behind.

And second only to the sadness of Katya was his sorrow that he never had a chance to explain, to say goodbye to his fiery Raina. Friend, lover, equal.

His breathing was harsh again. He needed to lose himself in this girl. It had been fifteen years since he had run from Argentia.

Raina was in the past.

Am I, Mage Prince?

Her voice was always within him. Magic everywhere. For fifteen years, he had denied that essential truth. It seemed that everything was changing tonight.

His hard cock drew his attention. His mind had been lost in memory, but his body screamed with need, and Salif quickly undressed, removed the girl's bindings.

"Lie on the bed – legs parted..." he commanded tersely. The need was coursing through him, no longer to be denied. And the night was still young.

Chapter 2: The Best Night of Ibo's Life

Just then, knocking on the door, a familiar voice. "Salif, man, you there?" Ibo D'souza.

Salif's life was forking tonight, and he wasn't sure who he would be in the morning – Salif the djembe player, or Salif Al-Hasn, Mage Prince of Argentia. But in either fork, Ibo was a friend.

"Reveal nothing of Argentia, of who I am." A gritted order. This was a risk Salif took. The girl nodded quietly, naked and spread out on the bed.

"You took off in a hurry, man... I brought us some beer..." Ibo looked cheerful. "That was some concert tonight, wasn't..." His voice broke off as he caught a glimpse of the room as the door opened, saw the girl spread out on the bed, saw Salif's nakedness. He whistled softly.

"Some guys have all the luck..." Ibo said, ruefully. "Sorry, Salif, didn't realize you had company. I'll leave you alone..."

Salif made an impulsive, split-second decision. "Why don't you come in instead?" he said, his hands sweeping the door fully open.

"Umm..."

"Leila doesn't mind, does she?" He looked at the girl on the bed, expressionless, willing her to pick up her cue. He was placing a lot of trust in her training, but the pleasure slaves of Argentia were expensive because they were well-versed in many things, not just in the arts of pleasure.

"Of course not... Salif." Her voice was still lyrical, only the slightest hesitation before she uttered his name.

Well-trained indeed.

Ibo looked like Christmas was coming early. "Really?" His voice was hopeful. As a musician, women threw themselves over you all the time. But Leila was a pleasure slave of Argentia. She was beyond anything seen on this world, exceptionally beautiful, and Ibo looked transfixed as he looked at her, as she lay on the bed.

"Really." Salif's voice was slightly amused. He'd grown up in Argentia, surrounded by pleasure slaves since the moment he'd hit puberty. Even then, he could still sometimes be transfixed by them, by their sensuality, by the way their skin felt under your hand, by the softness and the melody of their voices. Ibo wouldn't know what hit him.

"Leila – Ibo." Salif waved an arm in introduction. It had become second nature to observe the niceties of the world he'd hidden in for fifteen years, a world so different from his own home world of Raan.

Ibo was still looking a bit shell-shocked at the turn his evening had taken. He clutched a six-pack in his hand. Presumably, he'd thought to find Salif alone in his hotel room, the two of them drinking beer and chatting companionably about the evening's recital. This was... unexpected.

"Would you like a beer, Leila?" Ibo's voice was hoarse.

Leila sat up in bed, making no move to hide her nakedness. She shot a look at Salif, her training warring with his order. Pleasure slaves almost never ate or drank with their contract owners. Even Salif's own pleasure slaves had rarely crossed that line. Salif nodded permission.

"Yes, please..." she said, softly.

She took the offered beer; they drank in silence for a few minutes. Ibo's eyes didn't leave Leila's body; he looked flushed. Salif thought he should intervene to help Ibo out.

"Why don't you touch her breasts?" he suggested to Ibo. "Leila loves her nipples to be played with."

Whether she did or not, he had no idea, neither was it his concern. Her role was to give pleasure. Ibo took an extra-large gulp from his bottle of beer. He looked at Leila in mute permission.

"Please..." Leila said, musically, submissively.

"Holy shit man, this is insane..." Ibo muttered, but his hands had moved to her breasts. "Aww... honey, you feel like a peach, all juicy and tender..." His hands roamed over her breasts, feeling their weight, flicking his fingers over her coffee-coloured nipples. Leila bit her lip in pleasure.

Salif watched intrigued, momentarily forgotten in the sidelines. He'd never shared a pleasure slave before; men were forbidden in the harem, their lives forfeit if they were caught. No man dared the wrath of the Mage-born of Argentia.

Leila moaned, as Ibo's hands pinched a nipple, rolling it appreciatively between his thumb and forefinger. "How's that feel, sweet pea?" Ibo's voice had the lilt of a born musician.

Leila only moaned in response.

"I think Ibo asked you a question." Salif's voice was steel.

Leila silently flashed him a look of abject apology. Her trainers would have whipped her mercilessly for this transgression, something she was undoubtedly fully aware of.

"It feels good... please don't stop..." Her voice was a breathy sigh of need and arousal.

"Don't hesitate to pinch harder...." Salif cut in. "She likes pain, Leila..."

Ibo's fingers tightened on Leila's nipples instantly, as if he'd been waiting for permission. He moved on the bed, placed one arm on Leila's back, to hold her in place. His other hand clamped on her nipple, pulling it forward, stretching it out. Leila moaned in pleasure.

"Why yes, my peach, I do think Salif is right.... You are enjoying this, aren't you?" Ibo's voice was hoarser now, his arousal building with Leila's moans.

They don't make the same mistake twice, the pleasure slaves of Argentia.

"Yes, Ibo... please..." She answered his question this time without Salif's prompting, her voice now a note higher as the need started to build up in her body again.

Salif moved over to the bed.

"Three holes, Ibo, my friend. Which one do you want?"

Ibo looked slightly shocked; stole a look at Leila, to see how she would react to Salif's crude words. But Leila's face was serene, she had heard the words and had not been horrified by the idea, and now Ibo just looked hopeful.

"I've never been in a girl's ass..." His voice was low, with a thread of longing running through it. "My wife won't hear of it, calls me sick and twisted."

Salif had never met Ibo's wife, but he'd heard many stories. This was going to be a night Ibo would remember his entire life.

"Take her ass then, I'll take her talented mouth." Salif's voice was easy. "The bathroom should have some lotion..." Personally, Salif wouldn't have bothered with the lotion; he knew Leila was trained to relax her ass muscles sufficiently. But Ibo would be horrified by the idea. Different worlds.

Ibo hurried off, and returned a moment later with the lotion in his hands. He still looked a little shell-shocked by the whole encounter. Shell-shocked, but oh-so-willing-to-participate.

Salif positioned Leila on the bed, doggy-style, his cock at her lips. She obeyed instantly, opening her mouth and drawing him in. Salif's hands clenched at his side. Her mouth was talented, she was milking him with tight hot strokes, her tongue skillfully exploring his length. At the other end, Ibo shed his clothes quickly. His cock sprung up, thick and long. "Sweet little peach..." he muttered, dripping a glob of lotion on her tiny puckered hole, and using a finger to push the lotion in.

Salif could feel the force of that finger as Leila was pushed forward, her mouth buried deeper in his hard, willing cock. She moaned around him, the vibrations of her mouth adding to his arousal. His hands craved a flogger, to raise the girl to higher and higher peaks, but Salif kept the magic at check. Later... there would be time for that later.

Ibo added another finger, then a third. Now he was pumping his fingers in and out of her ass, using his other hand to spank her as she danced a lust-filled dance between the two men. She was moaning near constantly into Salif's cock as the tendrils of pleasure from her ass started to radiate through her body.

"Use your fingers to touch yourself, you may orgasm when you like." Salif heard his voice give the girl permission, and he inwardly grimaced. His father would have been horrified to hear of this unexpected kindness, yet another sign that Salif would be unfit to rule Argentia with an iron fist.

But I am not you, father. This girl pleases me with her compliance, and I would reward her for it.

She didn't remove her mouth from Salif's cock, but he could feel the gratitude in her, as she moved a hand down to her pussy, and started stroking herself. Salif watched her, his arousal deepening, watched her face as her eyes closed in tight pleasure at the assault on her puckered hole, the way her body clenched in response to the thrusts of Ibo's fingers.

And now Ibo pulled his fingers out, and positioned himself so his cock was at that tightly puckered hole. "This is crazy, man..." he mumbled. He held his cock in his hand, guiding it into Leila's asshole, deeper and deeper, pushing steadily, till he had penetrated that final barrier, and the full length of him was buried in her butt. Leila whimpered against Salif's cock, the music notes resonating through his cock.

"Sweet peach, you are so tight..." Ibo's voice was a mere rasp. "I'm going to start thrusting..."

Leila's mouth redoubled its work on Salif's dick. Salif waited for Ibo to set the rhythm, then set his own counterpoint. The girl's body moved helplessly between the two of them, first Ibo pushing her to Salif's mouth, then Salif thrusting into her waiting mouth, sending her back and impaled on Ibo's thick cock, and so on, till Ibo clenched his hands, grabbing Leila's hips, and came with a shouted groan.

Leila's fingers had been rubbing her clitoris in her own inward rhythm, and as she felt Ibo quivering in her ass, she too came in a shuddering climax. But her training held firm, she never let go of Salif's mouth, as she, despite the explosion of her own orgasm, kept the motion of her mouth steady, her reaction secondary to her purpose of giving Salif pleasure.

Salif felt his blood rise, felt the familiar clenching of his loins. "No, not yet..." he said harshly. He would be alone with the slave when he came. He put a hand out, stopped the girl. She let go of his cock, slumped down on the bed.

Ibo stirred himself. He silently pulled on his clothes. Salif could hear him move in the adjoining bathroom, hear the water run as Ibo washed himself. The door opened, closed, and Salif was once again alone with the slave.

"My lord prince." She was kneeling on the floor the instant the door shut, her eyes on the ground, a tremor running through her voice. "I made eye-contact, I called you by your name, I drank in front of you, and I failed to answer a question. I have failed my training, my lord prince. I beg you to punish me."

That damn training again. Some of it necessary, but yet, as his father had shaped the program, so much of the training designed to strip out the essence of the girl, to replace the personality within by an empty vessel, designed to hold only what the contract-holder wished.

I would change that, bring back the old ways.

"Do you wish to be punished?" Salif's voice was harsh.

An impossible question, he knew. She would have to speak truth to him, but she may not flinch away from punishment. She couldn't admit she feared his punishment.

She hesitated, trying to form words that would guide her out of this fissure. There were none. Salif's eyes were cold and unrelenting.

Finally, she answered, bowed before him in the humblest obeisance. "No, my lord prince." Her voice was the merest thread of sound. The desire to be spared punishment was counter to all her training. She didn't rise from her position on the floor.

But Salif's eyes were softening. The right answer. He gazed down at her sweat-sheened body, at the trembling held-in-check; part fear, part exhaustion. The girl had served for over three hours, and her muscles were trembling with fatigue.

Salif glanced at the clock. 4 am. The time swiftly approached when he'd have to make a decision. Return to Argentia and fight, or flee and hide. He had two hours at most before he must make a move. He deliberately emptied his mind, let the chant of peace and calm wash over his mind. The girl still lay bowed at his feet.

His voice, when he spoke again was crisp, commanding. "Refresh yourself, rest for a half-hour. You are going to need the energy."

She rose to her feet, elegance in the motion. "Thank you, my lord prince." He could hear her move to the bathroom, hear the sound of the water begin to run.

Chapter 3: Always Raina

Salif sat on the bed, a silent coil of tense energy. In his mind, the chant for peace was running over and over again, as he strove for calm. Two hours.

Use the girl as distraction.

Raina's voice, in his head again, filled still with amused mocking. She was always there with him.

The girl came out of the shower, naked, her skin glistening with moisture, her hair damp tendrils around her face. She walked over to the bed, and sank gracefully on her knees next to Salif. "My thanks, my lord prince."

"Get on the bed." An order.

I will fuck the girl now, and then, I will pick a path in the fork ahead.

She obeyed, lying on the bed, her legs spread just wide enough for Salif to see her outer pussy lips, to just glimpse the warmth of the interior.

All night long, Salif had imposed his iron will on his body. Not letting himself erupt in the girl's mouth. This, this warm, all-enveloping wetness, the sweetness of her juices coating his dick, this was his reward. He thrust into her hard, fluidly.

She mewled for the first time, her hands gripping the sheets on the bed as he ripped through her. Her eyes were closed, she bit her lips to keep her moans under control. Her hips thrust to meet him in an instinctive answer. Salif could feel her pussy clench in response around his cock, responding to his hardness with softness, caressing his sheath, as she writhed under him.

He kept thrusting. The beats of the djembe pulsing a steady rhythm in his head, a cadence his body matched. The girl moaned musically, her body moving under him. He could feel the mind-lust rise, his hands roaming on the girl's body, smacking her ass, driving her higher, faster, pinching her nipples, reaching forward and sucking them into his mouth, now to flick a tongue over a nipple, now to graze it between his teeth, and her moans were melody to him, the counter point to his inner drum beat, and then, finally, the crescendo. His hands clenched over her hips, as he came in shuddering release.

One instant of weakness. That's all it takes.

"Hello Salif." A voice sounded in his room; a voice that had been part of his inner self for so long. Raina. But no more just a voice in his head. She was standing in front of him, expressionless, as she looked down at him. The warning bells started to ring in Salif's mind.

"No, no, don't get up." Her voice was winter and ice. She waved a hand, even as he was beginning to straighten, to shape a warding of protection. The magic leapt to obey her, and Salif found he couldn't move.

He hissed in anger. She used magic against Argentia royalty? This was a transgression punishable by death.

But inside, his heart was breaking as his eyes drank her in. His Raina. His first love; the only woman he'd ever truly loved. The woman who had seen the essence of him, and had loved him anyway. He gazed at her, devouring her hungrily. It had been fifteen years. Whatever caused the hate in her voice, it could not stop his eyes from searching hers.

The years had been kind to his Raina. She had been twenty-three to his twenty-five; she would now be thirty-eight. Yet her hair shone as glossily black as the first time he'd run his hands through them. Her body, clad in a gossamer robe of purple silk was still supple, the skin on her face just beginning to lose the elasticity of youth. The laughter lines around her eyes had deepened, though as he gazed at her, he realized not all the lines came from laughter. She had felt pain, his Raina.

She had closed her eyes in silent despair against his inspection. He searched her mind, but she was shielded against him. Ahh, Raina, my love. Why?

"Why?" The question was torn from his lips, the words giving voice to the heartbreak. Leila slipped off the bed, silent, watchful, forgotten for the moment.

Raina's eyes flew open, flew to his in icy anger. "You dare to question why?"

"Yes." His words were simple. If she were to kill him here, as she undoubtedly had planned to do, she would have to explain why. She owed him that much. He closed his eyes, as pain ripped through his heart. She'd been his only friend in Argentia. Friend. Lover. Equal.

When she spoke, her voice was low, the words torn from her.

"Katya was my kinswoman. I was there when her body was returned to our clan house. Her broken, bloodied body." Her breathing was harsh. "She was like my older sister. She was only twenty-five when she was killed. I swore the blood oath."