From Ages Past Ch. 01

"What am I doing?" she wondered as she felt the power begin to spiral up her spine, quickly enough to know that she didn't have much time before it took hold, but slowly enough so that Bryana could feel it and revel in even that.

"Thinking out loud so that you know precisely the moment that you stop."

"What's wrong with that?" Unlike the clouding spell that would descend upon her slowly, this would be like a switch being flipped.

"Nothing at all," he said, his eyes going from hers to those proud nipples, "because I'm going to enjoy this as much as you do."

"No doubt," she said, her palms resting on his broad, muscled chest, what with his being many a man's favorite position. "You can simply rest on your back and let the woman do all the..." The words were cut off as she gasped, her eyes staring off into the universe before she began to giggle almost maniacally.

"Bryana?"

When he called her name all there was for the moment was a giddy, wild thing who realized she was completely naked and who needed an extra few seconds to process her name. When she looked down she saw his smile and she felt love and want. There was no history for her to grasp to remember all the things that grew that love and that was fine. And then there was that other, fine thing inside her already. She felt it and thought of it and her pussy became more wet mush. "Hmm...?"

"Bryana. Fuck," he commanded.

That was a great idea. "Bryana fuck." She let go. She began to bounce frantically, each time that thing buried itself inside her she whimpered in helpless joy and her muscles clamped down on it and her juices flowed down its as she went. She felt his hands back at her tits, pawing away. She felt him filling her. She heard the smack of skin against skin and the strain of the bed and his grunts. It was all too much for one who, in the moment, was about nothing but pleasure, to take. The whimpers and whines as her senses were overwhelmed filled her mind too and she came with a near-scream of lust and need fulfilled.

Deres strained and squirmed as she rode him with abandon. As she was overwhelmed by sensations enhanced by the fact that her mind was freed from any concern beyond the sights, sounds, and sensations of fucking her love he was carried away by the ferocity of it, being left to simply try to hang on as she fucked. She wailed as lust took her again in a seemingly never ending orgasm that only the thick stone of the room and the earth that surrounded it kept the sound just to the two in the room.

Deres moaned with her in a desperation not to surrender with her yet simply because he wanted to watch her be utterly out of control, but she wasn't making it easy for him. With each downward thrust more of her juices would flow and further drench his cock so that only its exceptional length and girth kept him from slipping out. Well, that and the fact that when the feelings would touch that peak once again, her muscles would do their level best to pull him off the bed with her. He grunted and whimpered, arching his back and grasping her hips for as long as it took for as long as he could stand it before he was compelled to take control. He lifted her and she whooped in surprise before a peal of laughter as he planted her on her back. "Mmm...fun."

"I like this, dear. On top, pressed to you, between your lovely legs." He placed her hands over her head and her fingers laced with his as he felt her hips lift against him before she squealed another orgasm and locked her long legs around him at the ankle. He thrust with vigor as the rush of the spell began to fade from her mind. Hazy, blinding heat gave way to a gentle warmth, the rocking of their bodies together as one a calming way to come back to herself. Her throat felt raw and every nerve still sang of the afterglow. "Mmm...that was nice," she said after a long sigh. "Thank you, sweet."

"I aim to please."

"You do well." She simply enjoyed the weight of his body, the of him within her for a time, pleasantly accented by the rocking of the two together. Many thrived on whispers of love during, but, for them, in the heat of the moment, what they craved, what often drove them, were whispers of filth. She picked up on the slight increase in tempo, "Someone's getting close. Someone just can't handle a tight pussy."

He snickered as he looked into her eyes, "Just a pleasant, easy glide after your whoreish little outburst."

Her nails grazed his back, "But my man likes his women to pound his cock like whores. He loves knowing that they love his fat, hard, southie cock in their pussies. It's at home in my pussy though. You know it. It feels so good and so perfect and you're trying so hard not to cum already, but that wet hole is just too fucking much. I know it. I know what's between these legs and so do you. You feel it fucking pulling at you, but you still can't stop." She placed her fingertips deftly at the back of his neck to the base of her skull. "How about a little magic for you, you rutting fucking pig."

Energy passed from her fingertips and into his body, creating for him a slight haze he could feel in the form of feeling slightly disconnected from his body. The crescendo he was building to, that only seconds ago he was flirting with allowing himself to be enveloped by felt just beyond his reach in a way that Bryana was keenly aware of. "Aww...no cumming for my love just yet? Maybe if you chase it, sweet. You need to chase it."

His mind grasped the idea and began to plow into her in earnest. Almost at once, he felt closer to that peak and he moaned in satisfaction. Almost as quickly, however, the feeling drifted out of his reach and the moans became whines that were not lost on Bryana who was becoming ever more excited herself as she could feel their energy combine. She could feel what he felt so she could manipulate it as she chose. Because of that, she, too, felt the urge to release, but that wasn't going to happen just yet. "Faster," she urged. "Chase it."

His thrusts increased and sweat began to cover his body, his mind focusing on ever less until all there was was the chase.

"Faster, Deres. Chase it. Stay with it." Her voice was breathy now, immersed in the pursuit with him as she waited for just the right moment. He continued to fuck and chase and, while she would close her eyes now and then to drown herself in his feelings and need, but she kept them open for the most part because of the thrill of looking upon his wild, desperate, slightly distant gaze as she waited for him to weaken.

"Like that. Good. Good boy. Stay with it. Slow down and it will disappear. Don't lose it, my love."

Losing that feeling that was close was unfathomable in his current state, licks of added ecstasy tormenting him, promising so much more if he could only reach it, but all each smooth, steady, and rapid stroke allowed him to do was keep pace. He couldn't reach it. He was so close, but he couldn't cum. She wouldn't allow it.

Deres was a powerfully built soul, muscles defined and dense, but the combination of forces against him finally began to strain that body. She felt it from him and much more as she shared in his pleasure. She saw it in the tension in his brow, and in the heaving of his chest as she hung on, fingers still on his body, bits of magic blocking him from going over the edge while enhancing and controlling his pleasure. Bryana waited until those biceps quivered in near unison. She waited until his body was on the same edge with his mind and his cock. "Do you want to cum, my sweet bull?"

There was no response from him beyond a guttural groan that she might indeed have gotten from an animal consumed with that primal need to seed a willing bitch. She smiled. For as much as she loved him, and she did, she loved the animal in these moments, too. And with her legs hanging in the air beneath him as he pounded away, she was certainly as much a willing bitch as any of the other women under his sway, and would be again almost at his whim because he had her heart. "Chase it, my love."

"Chase it."

His body quaked as he attempted to find more strength and stamina. His eyes looked into hers. In them she saw heat and pleading.

"Chase it."

He whined in desperation.

She grinned as she opened her mind to fully share the moment with him. "Cum, Deres."

One final thrust and he reached the pleasure he sought, suddenly finding himself in the middle of such a blinding sea of pleasure that there were no words to adequately describe it. It was so intense in that first instant that his already trembling arms could no longer support his weight. The first rush of seed into her body collapsed his full weight onto her with an exaltation not unlike her own only moments before.

When that stopped as strength fled his body, panic set in as the primal core of his mind thought of nothing but a loss of that feeling when he'd only now just found it. He hooked his arms under her shoulders, pulling her down on his cock, her cries driving him as much as his own need. Each thrust moved him through the sea of joy and each twitch of his cock rewarded him as it sent more of his essence deep inside. He pumped madly, ignoring his own fatigue, his head resting on her chest, eyes closed, face contorted in a mask of pleasure until, slowly, his body came to the realization that, although he reached that point beautifully and perfectly, he had nothing left to give.

The haze dissipated and he could again hear himself breathe. His ear against her chest, he could hear her heart catch up to the calm of the rest of her. He could feel her caresses on his back and the loving softness in her voice contented him. "Good boy."

"That was so not fair," he informed her with playful petulance. "I didn't make you suffer for what you wanted."

She giggled with the memories. "Not this time."

"Revenge? Really?" He lifted his head from her to gaze into her eyes.

"An homage to my old ways."

"You know, you could have killed me with that little bit of magic."

"I was in complete control," she asserted firmly, "besides, there are certainly worse ways to die."

He took a deep breath, held it long enough to feel his lungs tingle, and exhaled slowly before smiling in spite of himself. "That's quite true."

"You loved that and you know it."

He climbed her body enough to meet her gaze. "You're not wrong. And I love you."

Bryana looked into his eyes, wanting to simply fall into them. "How could I not love you? On top of all else that you are that any woman could love, you saved my soul."

He blushed at that, but she loved that boyish shyness that she could make surface. It was true though. A vile being once, she'd happened across Deres even as she'd hoped to use the woman that was now their third, Neral Jaye, commander of every soldier in Erette as part of a greater scheme. He had changed her with magic that was then, far beyond her comprehension. After twists and turns and history together that most would never believe, the three were as one as if it had always been.

He kissed her softly and his hands drew her wrists over her head. "Again?"

"Why not?"

He began to nibble at her neck until the sensations and sounds made her lean into it and giggle. "Because I have things to do."

"A Guild Mistress's work is never done"

Her fingers went through his close-cropped hair, "You joke, but that is more true than not. Point being that I do not have time to simply place my ankles in your hands whenever you wish. You have others for that." She laughed as the tip of his tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. "Goddess, that's why you became a mage at all, isn't it? Just so you could fuck at will."

"Not the only reason by far, but it is a benefit that I, as a man, cannot ignore."

She sighed, "Of course not, but I have responsibilities."

"Come on." There was only a hint of begging.

She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his, resigning herself to her fate, but still, she had to insist. "Very well. Once more, but don't worry for me. Go for yourself and be quick about it."

"I can do quick."

She couldn't help but laugh heartily, "That isn't something most women consider a desirable feature most of the time."

"True," he said with a deep, long kiss, "but you are not most women, and you did just command that I be quick about it."

Bryana punctuated the next commands with her own kiss, "Then shut up, grab my ankles and finish your business, or let me up now so that I can finish mine."

Deres chose the former.

* * *

"No."

Lidel hung his head and slapped his hands to his thighs, and, he blinked rapidly, trying hard just then to keep from crying.

"Breathe."

"Why is it wrong now?" The question reflected that fight to stop tears of frustration from flowing. "I did it. I did it like you've shown us and it doesn't work."

Sylanna kept her place in the chair opposite him, outwardly unflappable. Inwardly, however, she wanted to shake the boy until he took the whine out of his voice that was a like a scrape of metal on metal that climbed her spine. She was not meant for teaching, of this she was sure. Her disdain for other humans as a general notion did not diminish when focus narrowed to the individual. Indeed, general disdain often became quite specific.

"Because you did not do it as I've shown you." She began to repeat the movement of her fingers that coupled with the tracing of runes in the air in order to call upon and shape the magic. As she did, the air around her began to visibly ripple as if her fingers were stones breaking the water of a pond, "Your forefinger rune into the air is not sharp enough in this movement, then here, your smallest finger curls in too tightly and it does not connect as it should. Magic is much like an instrument and..."

"I did the same thing you did."

"You did not."

"I did."

"All it takes is a fraction of an inch...'

'I did." There was that scraping metal again.

"If you had, you would have been successful."

"Maybe if you were a better teacher..."

She took a deep breath, having well reached her limit. "You are finally absolutely correct. I am not at all a good teacher." She rose and headed to the nearest entryway. "I wish you luck finding someone who will coddle you so that you don't blame them when you continue to fail."

She was two steps from the corridor in the mages' underground sanctuary before she heard his voice. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "It's just so frustrating."

She stopped in her tracks and, after a concerted effort to bury her own frustration, disdain for people, and lack of belief in the sincerity of apology, turned to the young man with freckles and fair skin that combined to make him look far more like a boy than a young man, and spoke. "I understand that, Lidel. No mage comes to their power without years of practice that, to tell you now so that you can prepare, will never end."

His voice was small, "Please. I don't want another teacher."

"Read nothing deeper into the question but the question itself, but why did you ask for my instruction in the first place? Teaching is its own art and the likes of Lian or Vale alone are far better suited in temperament when it comes to instruction than I."

"Because I feel..." He cleared his throat and his voice cracked. "I feel like I have such a hard time with things and they already have students they work with and you didn't have any others and... you could devote the..." He started to laugh in spite of it all because he thought it was perilously close to the truth, "centuries necessary to really help me."

Sylanna usually found it effortless to not smile, so, while her face was a mask, she couldn't deny the entertainment value of the moment. "Fortunately for you, I have some time to devote to it, and we can both only hope that centuries won't be needed. May I make an observation without it putting you into a snit?"

His cheeks reddened at the reminder of his outburst. "Okay."

She walked back to the chair, coming in front of him to sit back down. "Your problem is that you're trying to make magic."

His was obviously taken aback, "Isn't that what I should be trying to do?"

"No" Her instruction was sharp and clear. "You should be working on the proper gestures and nothing else."

"But..."

She closed her eyes briefly as she affirmed her position, "Nothing else. Let me explain this simply: magic is an expression of power, mind, and body. Your gesturing is wrong, so you cannot tap the power and direct it as you wish. Your failure creates anger and anxiety. That creates a wall that is so frustrating you that you cannot actually truly see how your gesturing is wrong, so it becomes the fault of the magic or the teacher who has proven that they can actually access the magic as they wish."

The last left him to blush again, chastened.

"I will assist you if you ask it of me, but we will work on gestures only. We will work on gestures for hours and days on end until you hope I die so that it will finally be over." Dust dry humor crept in. "But I will not die. We will work on gestures until you abandon expectation and hope of ever touching magic with them. When we are finished, your gestures will have machine precision. Once tedium and misery have crushed the anxiety within, there is no doubt the magic will come to you, but you must commit to it fully."

Her voice carried with it awe and reverence. "I understand the place you live now. Magic is always wondrous and nearly limitless. I know that you want it all and you want it now, but that cannot be how you approach this if you want it at all.. You will get frustrated. You may well wish to quit. I understand that and will accept that you might need to vent and will do my best to be accommodating of that as well. But I will not tolerate aimless whining about the unfairness of life or disrespect again from you. If I hear either, you can tutor yourself. Do you agree to my terms?"

Lidel didn't have to think about it much, "I do."

"Very well then. We will start tomorrow." She rose and went to the entry with a smoother glide than she had the first time.

"What if I die first?"

She did not turn back to the amusement that she heard, though she did pause briefly. "Then, young man, I shall spend long seconds finding anything else to do with my time. Tomorrow, after breakfast."

"I'll be there."

Satisfied with the outcome of things, she stepped into the corridor and turned to find Vale there with a soft smile, which annoyed Sylanna no end for many reasons, not the least of which that cherubic face, those green eyes, that long brown hair, and the gentleness of spirit that Sylanna knew now was no act, could worm their way past her defenses in ways that unnerved her. It left her unsettled that one so different from her could have such an effect, but not enough to end their working relationship.

And certainly not enough to end their now fairly regular sharing of one another's bed. In ways that she would confess to no one, she found the sense of being slightly off-balance exciting once she got used to the feeling and once she trusted the fact that their relationship simply was what it was and would be whatever it would be. She knew Vale did not have it in her to game anyone when it came to her personal relationships.

Game her? No. Annoy her? She reconciled herself to the fact that the answer to that was likely, 'probably always.' "Vale," she acknowledged as they walked the corridor in tandem. Vale gave Sylanna the side-eye coupled with a playful half-smile until Sylanna could no longer tolerate it, "What?"

"That was empathy. I actually heard an expression of empathy from Sylanna Seren." The exaggerated wonder was almost comical.

"Spy."

"Opportunistically observant," she countered smoothly. "It's not as if I follow you everywhere you go and report back to Mistress Lia, though I'm sure you might still entertain that notion."