Familiar

Hey ladybugs and gentlebeetles.

My first story . . . Hope you enjoy, please leave comments.

Wiggly kisses to you all

TickTockTokoloshe

*****

Nobody really remembers their birth. I do. But I'm guessing that my birth was not what one would call common. There were three main differences between my birth and a human one.

Firstly, I was not born of woman. I merely came into being as my existence was called. He who called my existence was neither father nor creator to me, but my master. He was a sorcerer, and I was summoned into this world to be his familiar.

Secondly, I was not born a squealing, bloody babe. I was born a full adult, completely ready to fulfil my purpose.

And thirdly, I was not born ignorant. I was born with full knowledge of my life's purpose, my entire reason for existence.

I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was the summoning circle painted in congealing blood, harsh and beautiful in its construction. As I came aware of myself, I realised that I was kneeling naked on top of it, and the blood was sticky on my skin. His blood. I slowly lifted my eyes from the floor, and there he was, across from me. My first impression of him was that his summoning circle matched him perfectly. He was just as harsh, and just as beautiful. His body was long and smoothly muscled. He was bald, and pale, and dark eyes shone out from beneath a heavy brow. He and I shared the centre of the summoning circle, and he knelt naked in mirror image of me. Or perhaps I knelt in mirror image of him. It was this thought which produced my very first facial expression: a smile.

And he, my magnificent mirror image, smiled back.

. . .

"Mine," he said quietly, "You are mine." His voice was deep and rumbled like soft thunder.

"No, not yet," I murmured to my master. My own voice was higher than his, lilting like some long-forgotten melody. "Knife. Give me a knife."

Silently he handed me a sharp silver blade, and I deftly sliced open my wrist. The blood poured from my vein to mingle with his in the summoning circle, filling the centre before sealing back up into smooth skin. Immediately my body was filled with the warmth of belonging, of completion. I looked back to him, expecting the look of surprise and pleasure as he felt it too,

A purr vibrated inside me as I spoke: "Now I am yours. And you are mine."

He nodded, and rose to his feet. "Come."

I followed him as he left the room, picking up his clothes as he went. He took me through a series of corridors, to an oaken door. Inside were what I assumed were his rooms. They were simple, but tastefully decorated. He reached into a wardrobe and brought out one of his shirts, tossing it to me. I let it drop to the floor and sauntered over to the mirror, discovering my appearance as he finished dressing himself.

"I apologise for not having any clothing prepared for you. I was uncertain as to what form you would take," he said, as his eyes wandered over my bare form, "However, if you would prefer to go nude, I would certainly not object."

"I don't think I like clothes," I said matter-of-factly, stretching luxuriously under his gaze, which heated up considerably. I turned to the mirror. I was small, not only compared to him, but small in general. My hair was shaggy, short, and white, and my eyes were bright gold. Snowy skin flowed into a neatly-tucked waist before flaring slightly into my hips. A patch of white pubic hair heralded my sex, a nicely sized penis. While not monstrously huge, it was longer and fatter than was proportional for my tiny frame. "I think I like this body. Is this a good body for a human male?" I asked of my master.

He blinked. "Yes. Different, but not unattractive," he replied after a short silence, "I must admit, I am curious. What is your familiar-form?"

"I do not know," I answered after a brief hesitation, "But I need to be in human form to perform dual spells with you."

He nodded. "And I suppose you require a name."

"A familiar's name is a gift from her master. Do you want to name me?" I teased, looking at him over my shoulder. "Anyway, what's your name?"

"I am Solan. And you . . . you will be Lu-Rin. To others you may be known as Rin, but in private you will be my Lu-Rin."

"That was fast - and specific," I said, a little surprised at his decisiveness.

"I have waited for you for a long time, and in that time your name came to me. That is how I knew I was ready for the summoning spell."

"That is a thoughtful gift indeed," I whispered. Many sorcerers die during the familiar-summoning, as their life force is drawn through the blood of the circle in trying to pull their companion from the Sleeping World. For every thousand practitioners of the arcane arts, perhaps a hundred would be so brave as to attempt the familiar-summoning. Of those hundred, perhaps five or six would survive.

But the summoning was dangerous for a reason. Once one had performed the summoning, they would have easily twice or thrice their original power, in addition to a familiar. The familiar had very little power in itself, but was an uncorrupted conduit for their master's power, as well as a mind soaked in innate knowledge of the arcane arts. The mind of a newborn familiar could easily contain dozens of spells as yet unrecorded by even the greatest of magic scholars, and that knowledge would simply continue to grow.

The rewards are plentiful, but only because in order to summon a familiar from the Sleeping World, the summoner had to provide enough power for the unconscious mind to craft a magically-enriched body for the familiar's mind to inhabit, out of nothing. It was an act of pure creation.

Looking at Solan, I could think of some pretty creative things to do to the towering beast of a sorcerer. Even clothed, he was absolutely delicious. But alas, my ogling was interrupted.

"There was a reason I summoned you," he said solemnly.

"Oh, so it wasn't for the promise of pleasant company?" I asked sarcastically.

If he was amused or irritated, he didn't show it. "I suspect another sorcerer has been targeting me."

I sobered immediately. "And they're powerful to drive you into summoning a familiar to protect yourself. Who are they?"

"That I do not know," he admitted. "They began by sending scouts. Small things, like bewitched rats. I killed them when I smelled another's magic in their flesh. Then one day, a child arrived on my lands. She knocked on my door with half a dozen knives clenched in her fists. I captured her, alive. She also carries the stench of foreign magic."

"And you need me to divine its origin," I finished his explanation. While a sorcerer may track people, they can only do so with a part of their target, such as hair or blood. A familiar, as a purely magical being, could track the creation and origin of magic itself. "How large is your property?"

"You could stand on the roof of this house and look to the horizon in all directions, and you would still not see the end of it."

I flinched. "For them to puppet a human from a minimum of that distance . . . they could be incredibly powerful. Are you sure they are not hidden on the property?"

He walked over to the bed and dragged it over to the opposite wall. Beneath where it had been was a spell circle, etched into the floor. I recognised the infinitely looping arcs of the circle. It was a spell which constantly monitored the movements of living things over a circle of land, continuously feeding information into the mind of the caster. With this, Solan would know if anything had come onto his land. He moved the bed back over the spell circle.

"I sensed the child as she crossed onto my lands. I did not think she posed any threat, so I allowed her approach, thinking it to be one of the villagers who come to me to buy charms or curry favour." He smirked slightly.

"And so the big bad witchy-witch weaved spelled love-knots out of a young goatherd's hair for the grateful village girls?" I quirked a lip in response.

He laughed. I jumped in surprise as his usually quiet voice boomed with mirth. After my initial shock, I felt my face stretch into a grin in sympathy of his joy. Solan's laughter faded into a chuckle, and he looked at me with something resembling affection. While it was clearly platonic, I felt my cock hardening in response.

"No," he replied, still smiling. "But they keep coming regardless." His smile faded and his nostrils flared. Solan moved forward until the tip of his nose almost brushed mine. I gulped audibly. His face was so close to mine, I could finally see the colour of his dark irises.

They weren't black. They were a deep, rich brown, like dark, dark chocolate. Yum.

He breathed deeply. Oh gods, he could see my arousal. I remained perfectly still, like prey caught in the eyes of a predator.

"The child . . ." I began.

"Be quiet," he growled. My indignation must have shown on my face. "Just for a moment," he amended."

After a few long seconds, he stepped out of my personal space, and his face resumed its natural mask. I picked up the shirt he had thrown earlier, and pulled it on.

"Now may we free the child?" I asked, very politely I might add.

He nodded. Again with this silent nodding thing. Regardless, I followed him out of the room. He took me down a couple identical corridors and opened the door to another room. The room was comfortable enough, but the child was tied to a chair, blindfolded and gagged in the centre of the room. She was eleven at most, with torn clothing and wild, woodland hair. Spell circles had been painted onto the backs of her hands. My guess was that the restraints were to keep her from killing herself at the foreign sorcerers command, and that the spell circles were of my master's making, to keep their influence within the child so that I could track it.

I knelt down in front of her. "Needle," I requested. Solan produced one from within his clothing. I used it to prick one of her fingers, and wrapped my mouth around the bleeding digit. Once I had enough liquid in my mouth, I leaned back and swirled the magic-soaked blood around in my saliva. My body quickly absorbed the magic, and I spat the blood out onto the floor. The foreign magic in my body coalesced and filled a tiny spot in my mind. It was wistful, and missed its caster. As a result, there was a tiny pull between the magic and the one who created it. It was a little compass in my head, except it also told me the distance between me and my destination.

"Done," I called to Solan, and he smeared the spell circles on the back of her hands, breaking their effect. "I understand the restraints and gag were to keep her silent, and from harming herself, but the blindfold?"

"Whatever she sees, they see. I managed to capture her by whispering a sleep spell through the door. She hasn't seen me yet. They might know what I look like from the rats and other bewitched creatures they sent, but I doubt it. Their eye-level was at the ground, I killed them immediately, and animals see things slightly differently anyway." He paused to whisper another sleeping spell into the bound child's ear. "Even if they had seen my face, I was not going to risk them knowing who and what you are. All they know is that there was a female in the room who pricked the girl's finger. Knowledge is power, and right now we have an advantage."

I was silent. He didn't seem to expect an answer, and so we remained in silence as he untied the girl. He laid her on the bed and collected all the restraints

"So where is the foreign sorcerer?" he finally asked as we made our way back to his rooms.

"I couldn't point the place out to you on a map, but I can tell you direction and distance. About two months' journey north, on horseback. More on foot."

A muscle in his jaw tightened, and his face seemed to grow darker. "Controlling a human being from that distance . . . how has someone this powerful evaded my notice for so long?" He exhaled through his nose, hard, his nostrils flaring slightly before he composed himself. "That far north of here lies in Arturyl. The country is covered in snow through all seasons. It will not be a pleasant journey."

I summoned up my bravery and placed a hand lightly on his arm. "You said we have an advantage. We do. We can also predict their next move. If they are curious, they will continue sending bewitched things to your estate. If they are wise, they will re-evaluate and change tactics. It may take them a few days to strategize. If we leave tomorrow, we will have the upper hand. If they send more, we kill them before they sense our departure. If they change tactics, we will have left while they are still deliberating. If they do not realise this, then we have a huge advantage over them. Their strategies will be useless. If they do realise, the knowledge that we have left will leave them with two possibilities: either we have run, or we somehow gained knowledge of their whereabouts. It will scare them," I explained, and squeezed his arm reassuringly. "And yes, they are powerful . . . But you have proven your power. You summoned a familiar. On the slight chance that they are indeed more powerful than you are, we will still triumph. A powerful enemy can be easily defeated by an intelligent one."

It took me a moment to realise he was staring at me. I removed my hand. He caught it before it fell. "You are right. I am just a little frustrated at present." At this, he gifted me with a smile, albeit sheepish smile. "You have quite a mind for tactics, you know. I did not expect that."

I snickered. "Did you think I would be some dumb animal? I have no magic of my own, and my human form isn't particularly strong, even if I have magical regeneration equal to yours. All I have is my mind, and my familiar form. And my mind is the more useful of the two." He was still smiling. "You have such a beautiful smile, Solan," I sighed. I had surprised him again. Before he could speak, I started again to cover the awkwardness. "I have no idea what time it is, but I think we're due for a nap, don't you? We can make plans to leave tomorrow."

We were in his room. I pulled off the shirt I was wearing and hopped into his bed, looking at him expectantly. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to sleep in my bed?"

I giggled. "You are my master. You gave me life, and purpose. Tomorrow we are going on an adventure. I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable, but I also don't want to spend my first night alive alone."

He undressed as well, gauging my reaction before he stripped down to his underclothes and crawled into bed behind me. I cuddled up into him, and he wrapped an arm around me without hesitation, crushing me to his chest. This break from his usual cautious manner surprised me, but I wasn't complaining. Not. At. All.

. . .

Morning came. Or at least I woke up naturally, so I'm assuming it was a full sleep cycle. All in all, not a bad first night alive. Solan was gone. Interestingly enough, it seems I had a little compass in my head for him, too, as well as the one for the foreign sorcerer. I went rummaging through his wardrobe, and found an oversized shirt (to be fair, they were probably an exact fit - for him). It was a lovely dark blue, and I put it on. I left the room and followed my little mind-compass, memorising my route so that I could find my way back. After some trial and error, I managed to find him in a kitchen of sorts packing food into a rucksack covered in spell circles. Some for cold, some for time manipulation. It looked like he had found a way to keep the food from spoiling while travelling. Nicely done.

"The child is awake." He spoke to me without looking up. "I have lied to her explaining that she got some form of spirit-sickness, and I have been treating her during the past week. She has accepted this, and believes that is why she cannot remember anything. We will take her back to her village, which won't be a problem as it is in the same direction as our destination."

I ignored him. "Someone's been busy this morning."

"Last night we agreed that we would make preparations today. If we wait too long, we lose the advantage." He finally looked at me. His eyes flicked from my mussed up hair to his dark blue shirt hanging off my scrawny shoulders. He laughed. "I'm going to have to find you more clothes of your own. My shirt looks like a dress on you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Would Master have preferred a female familiar?" A challenge. And a question.

He shrugged and got back to his task. "Doesn't make much of a difference to me."

Unexpectedly, that hurt. I felt my cheeks redden in embarrassment, and tears stung at my eyes. I turned to leave. "I'm going to go talk to the child."

Maybe he could hear how rough my voice was. In any case, I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. Before I could say anything, it curled up to clap over my mouth. His free hand made an appearance at my hip to slide the shirt up my thigh. He pulled me flush against his brawny chest, and his hand stroked the bared flesh of my inner thigh. I could feel something large and hard against my back. I shivered, mewling pathetically into his hand as my cock hardened to a painful degree.

"You hear, but you do not listen. When I say it doesn't make a difference, what I mean is that regardless of what you have here," his hand cupped my already-weeping cock, "I am still going to fuck you until you pass out. When I summoned you, I summoned my perfect familiar. You were made for me. Whether you are male or female is of no consequence. You are mine." His thumb circled the slick head, and my knees buckled. "Now, are you going to behave so that I can find a better use for this hand than gagging you?"

I nodded frantically. As he removed his hand, I darted my head forward to stroke it with the tip of my tongue. He froze, even pausing in his stroking of my cock. I made another swipe at his hand, this time catching a finger in my mouth. I nibbled the tip tentatively, licking the digit and sucking on it. I felt his cock jerk in his pants, and his hand began to fly up and down my shaft, pulling me to my climax. I moaned loudly and my body went limp with shuddering waves of pleasure as seed dripped down my satiated sex.

"Solan . . ." I murmured softly. "Let me go." He did as I asked, and I slumped down to the floor, turning to face the obscene bulge in his pants. Impatiently I yanked them down, licking my lips in anticipation. His cock was as hard as iron, and bigger than I had expected. It was surprising long and thick, even for a man of his huge physical size. I gave it a long lick along the underside, from base to tip, and Solan grunted in response, placing his hands on my head and stroking my hair.

"I love that lewd little pink tongue of yours, Lu-Rin," he growled lustily. I gave his cockhead little tongue-kisses, unsure of what to do next, even though having his cock this close to my face was intoxicating. I think he noticed, because he began giving me directions disguised as dirty talk. "Take the head into your mouth, baby. Ohhh yesss, suck your master's cock, Lu-Rin. Let me feel that tongue . . ."

His words shot straight to my cock, jerking it back to life despite my recent orgasm. What can I say? Magical regeneration doesn't only apply to wounds . . . and Solan probably had it too. The thought of his big cock always being ready for me . . . I moaned uncontrollably around his large shaft, which was now hitting the back of my throat consistently, and I felt him shudder.

"Yes, yes, moan for me, sweetheart." I obliged. I realised that I wasn't gagging. I wasn't in the mood to question why, so instead I pushed myself harder and felt my throat open completely for his cock. My lips made contact with his groin, and something in Solan snapped. His hands clenched in my hair, and he held my head in place while he began to fuck my face, hard. My moans intensified, and he grunted and groaned as he pounded my throat. His cock jerked, and he roared as he came, shooting his hot cum directly into my waiting stomach.