Magic has Benefits Ch. 01

He couldn't stop it. After the slut had screamed in pleasure at having their poor excuse of a sack pulled, it had sent him over the edge. He thought for a second he could control it, that he could recover and keep going.

Then, he watched as Bella convulsed and groaned. His eyes rolled back until there was nothing to see but the whites. And miraculously, without his little penis being touched and his balls gripped in the rough hands of a bandit, his tip erupted with long spurts of cum across his waist and the front of his dress. All while his convulsing insides redoubled their efforts to milk Horace's cock.

And it did.

For a moment, Horace was unable to focus on anything outside of his mind shattering. His balls jumped up as they supplied ounce after ounce of pent up cum to the throbbing eight inches of hard flesh that was buried inside of the bratty slut beneath him. The thick strands shot straight into Bellasora's gut, coating the walls of his insides with the much manlier seed. The intensity caused him to shake, bucking his hips into the half elf prince with his last bit of energy and sexual desire. Then, he felt himself collapse on top of the smaller man.

Horace blinked a couple of times. Without realizing it, his own eyes and rolled back. His vision was blurry with the intensity of the orgasm and he was breathing heavily, his massive chest heaving up and down.

He took a couple deep breaths and blinked his eyes a few more times to focus as he sat up again. Bella was beneath him, also breathing heavy. His much smaller chest rose and fell, the front of his beautiful dress now covered in his cum. His eyes were closed and his mouth was still open. The gold pile still rested on top of his forearms.

Horace's hand was still on his throat. He let go, seeing a large red mark on the thin white skin of his neck, perfectly shapped like Horace's clenched hand. He shakily put weight on his hands and knees, pulling away from the stretched legs of the prince he had ravaged.

As his dick slipped from inside of the young man, it was still slick. Now that he was starting to have some post nut clarity, this was striking him as odd. It was far slicker than any saliva he had ever seen and there was no way that was his cum.

He looked at the now tantalizingly stretched hole. A dollop of his seed bubbled out and dripped down, spilling in a small waterfall across the surface of various gold coins.

Horace stood up on shaky feet, still catching his breath. In fact, he clutched at his chest, almost wheezing. No orgasm should be so intense that he has trouble breathing after it happened. He slowly pulled his pants up and rebuckled them, testing the weight of the sword belt while he was at it.

Then, a voice came from the gold pile.

"Thanks, I really needed that."

It was entirely unrecognizable. So much so that Horace jumped and grabbed the handle of his blade. But as he turned towards the pile, it was just Bellasora.

However, he was sitting up on the gold pile, the gold no longer containing his flimsy arms. The chains were still around his wrists, but it didn't seem to bother him as his hands were on his lap.

What concerned Horace the most, however, was the expression. The only kinds of faces Horace had seen the prince make since he'd arrived at the keep were of defiance and disdain. He was now smiling. But not just smiling, he looked smug and condescending, even in the afterglow of a good orgasm.

"I've just been so busy, I haven't really had the time to be laid like that," all traces of that silly accent were gone. He now sounded like one of those fancy Relleon scholars. Still effeminate, but not in the same way.

"I... uhh..." Horace stammered.

"That dumbfounded expression suits you far more than your adorable attempts at nobel courtesy and barbaric intimidation," Bella chuckled and stood up with a shocking amount of ease. He didn't even use his hands. Just rose up to a standing position as if he weighed nothing.

The insult brought focus back to Horace, "So that accent was fake? Why...?"

"Oh, way more than the accent is fake, darling," Bellasora chuckled, "But I don't expect you to easily wrap your little walnut around more than one thing at a time."

The fury was starting to build up inside of Horace again. He clenched his teeth and hissed his next words through them, "How dare...!? Yew 'ar still my prisoner! I'm goin' to toss yah to my boys and...!"

"Actually, I regret to inform you that our positions have been somewhat switched," Bellasora's cocky grin grew even wider, "I'm sorry to say, you are under arrest by the order of King Ethan Evernore of the Relleon High Throne."

Horace didn't say anything for a long moment and opted just to stare at the young half elf. Then, he began to laugh hysterically.

"Ah! I see! This is some kinda joke, ain't it?" He cackled, "It ain't a good joke, but cha got me laughin' anyhow!"

"I'm afraid it isn't a joke, Horace," Bella claimed, incredibly smug, "I'm afraid I've put on a bit of a ruse. At this moment, your entire group of petty thieves are being rounded up by the King's men."

Horace was still coming down from the laughter that had been coursing through him, "I'm sure! And..."

"Before you continue to make yourself into any more if a fool, I suggest you look into your courtyard."

He said it with such a matter-of-fact tone, with such confidence, that Horace humored him. He opened the treasury door, keeping one eye on Bellasora. He walked across the hall to one of the windows that overlooked the interior of his fort.

And his jaw fell open.

Pouring through the open front gates were easily a hundred soldiers of Relleon storming through. Each tabard of their armor emblazoned with the symbol of their country. A red background with a golden tower in the center with two swords crossing behind it.

Strangely, they didn't seem to be in a hurry. There were no battle cries or sounds of combat. The troops were simply marching in and collecting his men.

Which is where the majority of his confusion lay. The state of his men.

Every single one of them were already tied up. Various messy knots tied them either against something, or to each other. On top of that, they were in various states of undress. The barrels of rope near the barracks were empty, and each of his men looked utterly delirious.

Horace's entire body felt like it had been dunked in a river of ice cold water. He watched in shocked horror as his small empire was being shoved in the back of various carts stationed in front of the front gates.

"No!" He yelled in vain at the window, "Wha... How!?"

"Thaumaturgey," came the infuriatingly calm voice behind him.

He wheeled around, seething at the effeminate man, "What tha fuck is...?"

"Thaumaturgey is a fairly complex school of magic," the prince began to explain simply, as if he was reading it out of a textbook, "it is the art of making something on a large scale by recreating the intended result on a smaller scale."

"Boy, you better start speakin' some fuckin' sense, or I'll..." He began again.

And again, the smaller man interrupted him, "It seems you're not in much of a place to make demands. Your entire... army? Force? Militia? Whatever you want to call it, is being carted away as we speak. You lost."

The rage that was building up inside of Horace was unbearable. He clenched his teeth so hard, he could have sworn he shattered a molar.

"Is that so?" He growled, advancing on the boy, moving his hand towards the hilt of his sword, "the king may have my men. But yer alone in here with me, and yer girly body don't stand a chance..."

He faltered. He had just attempted to pull his sword out with intimidating menace. But it hadn't so much as budged in its sheath. His brow furrowed and he began to tug harder on it. It didn't so much as shift a gnomes centimeter out of its scabbard.

"That's strike two for your pull out game," Bellasora let out a small chuckle. It was cocky and in any other case may have been endearing.

But it just fueled Horace with even more rage.

"Yew little fucker!" Horace reached out his hands and began to sprint towards him, intending to wring the life of of his scrawny neck.

Bella didn't so much as flinch. He just looked down at the flimsy chains around his wrist, muttered another phrase in Salvoron, and flicked his hands towards Horace.

The chains flew from his wrists with a sharp sound and a brilliant flash of light. With blinding speed and strength, they wrapped around Horace's wrists and immediately shot towards the floor, wrapping around his ankles as well. With a surprised yell, Horace's momentum carried him forwards and down. His face connected with the marble floor between the treasury and outside hallway with a crunching thud. He let out a sharp hiss of pain as he felt blood stream from his now bent out of shape nose.

"Ouch, that looks like it smarts!" Bella claimed, walking over to where Horace was now effectively hog tied.

He tried to break the flimsy gold chains, thinking it would be easy. But they held his limbs together in a vice that rivaled the strongest of irons he'd ever been clapped in.

"Sorry about that. Couldn't have you strangling me to death. Though, that choking and ball grabbing?" His eyes flicked towards the back of his head and he gave a soundless little moan, as if the memory itself was giving him pleasure, "It's been too long since someone has really truly fucked me like that. Most of my usual partners tend to treat me like I'm made of some kind of brittle glass. So this was a very welcome change of pace for me. You almost made me break character a few times. You've certainly proved your reputation as a master swordsman, at the very least."

He punctuated that last sentence with a wink and another small chuckle.

Horace was reeling with the events of the past couple of minutes. With all of this information being dumped on him, he tried to grasp a way to understand this circumstance.

"Who... are yew? Really?"

The young man smiled and said a few more of those foreign words and snapped his fingers.

A brilliant flash of light emanated from Bellasora's body, nearly blinding Horace. He squinted and looked away until the light subsided. He turned back and felt another small thrill of shock.

Standing where the half elf prince had been, was a different person all together. He was still ridiculously effeminate, but in an entirely different way. He maybe had a few more years on him, looking closer to twenty four than to twenty. The half elf ears were replaced by more rounded human ones. The silver hair was now blonde, with hints of beautifully applied rose gold within the strands.

The thing that absorbed Horace the most were the eyes. Instead of the light sky blue of the previous visage, these were a dark electric pink. As Horace watched, he could swear he saw little strands of pink lightning dance across the irises and pupils.

If Bellasora had been cute, this young man was beautiful. The confidence that radiated from him spoke more of someone who could get results, much more than the seemingly arrogant appearance of Bellasora.

"My name is Riley Volstrand, Archmage of the High Throne of Relleon, youngest ever of my station," he spoke those words as if he'd said them hundreds of times, and was still immensely proud of himself.

Before Horace could respond, he heard the thunderous sounds of armored footsteps coming from down the hall.

Bell... Riley... spoke again, "So here's the deal. Lucky for you, nobody was killed when you stole this stuff from Ethan," the casual way he said the name of the country's king only server to fascinate Horace further, "So, if all goes well, I can keep you from swinging under a gallows. Perhaps I can convince him to let you off on some... community service!"

Horace stared, dumbfounded.

"What?" Riley grinned again, "You certainly have some passing skill as a leader, and you've proven time and time again to be resourceful. I'm sure we could find a use for you in Tearadin. Besides, you're easily in the top ten lays I've ever had. Maybe even top five! I'm not going to let a good dick like yours go to waste if I can help it!"

Horace just gaped for a moment before saying, "Yer just... gonna take advantage of me!?"

"Oh, shut up hypocrite," Riley rolled his eyes as the footfalls rounded the corner of the hallway and approached.

A dozen men rushed forwards, six of them running to seize Horace. They hoisted him to his feet as he continued to stare blankly at Riley.

Two men in particular rushed towards Riley. One was dressed similarly to the rest of the soldiers, though far more decorated with medals and even had a long cape that waved in his wake. He was a tall elf, his platinum blond hair tied in a high ponytail. He wore a scowl of disdain as he looked at the young man.

The other was a half orc. He was dressed nothing like the others, wearing simple leathers with a long dark brown coat that swished around his ankles as he made his way to Riley. Horace was amazed by the size of the man. There were few men that could best him in a simple contest of strength, but this one looked like he could easily give him a run for his money. He was a wall of muscle and scarred green flesh. He had a collection of weaponry and a large backpack and a hood for the coat that was pulled around his shoulders. His hazel eyes were full of concern as he approached the much smaller man.

"You okay, Ry?" He asked in a deep tone, looking him over as if looking for any wounds. His eyes landed on the red marks around the man's throat and his concerned expression suddenly turned ferocious, glancing back at Horace with murderous intent.

Horace actually gulped.

"Calm down Oskar," Riley waved a dismissive hand, "It was part of the ruse darling. He fell right for it."

"Speaking of your... ruse...?" The elf had a high and pretentious voice. It made Horace want to cringe with how punchable it was, "Did you really have to... integrate with this criminal in such a manner?"

"It was necessary to win my bet with you, Elvister," Riley grinned at him, "Which, as you can see, I did win."

Elvister glared at him and huffed, "Well, I hardly think now is the time for gloating. Besides, I believe the terms of the bet..."

Riley mimicked his voice in a horrifyingly perfect manner, "'There is no possible way you can get those bandits to gift wrap themselves for us', is what I believe you said," Riley chuckled, "And here they are! All bundled up."

"How did you even manage that?" Oskar asked. Not out of anger as Horace had, but with a gentle and genuine curiosity.

"Well, first and foremost I knew it would require Thaumaturgey," Riley started to explain, "So I knew I would either need to tie Gullstand up, or he would have to tie me up. This would be the small scale version of the large scale event I was hoping to trigger. You know, all of the bandits tying each other up. I figured it would be much easier to convince him to tie me up than it would be for me to... well, overpower him..."

"But was the mating ritual neccesary?" Elvister demanded, his nose scrunching up, "The king's treasures now smell of your particular flavor of sin."

"I figured it was the easiest way," Riley shrugged, "Horace Gullstand is known as a man who doesn't pass up an opportunity to get his dick wet."

Elvister sneered at the vulgarity, "And using the visage of Prince Bellasora Jestin? I don't see..."

"Well, I knew I would have to speak Words of Power and Magic while I was in here. Like enchanting the ropes to connect them to the Thaumaturgey Ritual," this all sounded like gibberish to Horace, but Riley spoke them with the cadence of a man that was explaining how he strung a fishing pole to catch a fish, "So I decided to come in here speaking a different language. Bella is the only foreign person I know that has a figure that is somewhat similar to my... unquie physique. Besides, I think Bella would find this story amusing. It worked like a charm too! I only had to come in here speaking a few Salvoron phrases to fool Owen Felton, and afterwards my Words of Magic seemed like foreign gibberish to them. I even managed to channel the magic of the ritual while he was balls deep..."

"Enough!" Elvister raised a hand and looked on the verge of gagging, "I will not hear of these..."

"Oh, I'd like to give a small apology," Riley turned to Horace with that stupid cheeky grin, "I'm sure you'd usually have the stamina to go for much longer. But I was siphoning your carnal energy for the ritual to convince all of your men to engage in similar acts. That's why you blew your load so quickly."

"I've heard enough!" Elvister turned and walked out, motioning for the men handling Horace to follow. He grabbed the sword belt from around Horace's waist and yanked it away, "This too, belongs to the king!"

"You'll have to come to me about that one too," Riley said quickly, "I put a glue spell on it to lower the chances of him... you know... stabbing me in a way that would have been less enjoyable."

Elvister smiled at him, but there was only anger in it, "If only I were so lucky..."

"You could get it out yourself eventually. But it would be real... sticky," Riley winked at him after saying it.

Elvister gave him one final sneer and began to walk away, the soldiers holding Horace following after him.

"I'll zee you soon, mi lord!" Riley called after Horace, mimicking Bellasora's accent and laughing as he was dragged away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oskar walked with Riley as they left the fort. He had brought a change of clothes for the smaller man in his backpack. Riley now wore the simple outfit he typically wore when he wasn't in his royal archmage ensemble. A simple, flowing golden shirt and a long black skirt with a slit running down the left side. Long leather boots the ran almost to his knees were held there with multiple straps.

After all this time, Oskar still caught himself staring at him.

"I can't wait to hear our dear First Knight of Relleon explain this to Ethan," Riley chuckled that intoxicating chuckle to himself as he strung his simple leather vag over his shoulder. He began to rummage through it as they stepped out on to the outside road.

"You should stop antagonizing him..." Oskar muttered, "He's not exactly the type of enemy you want to have."

"Perhaps, but I can't help it! Did you see his face in there?" Riley grinned at Oskar, "Really darling, you need to relax a bit."

"You could have gotten hurt, Ry," Oskar frowned, "That was incredibly reckless. You threw yourself in the middle of two hundred bandits and then spat in the face of the First Knight of Relleon. You gotta..."

"I know, I know," Riley waved a dismissive hand as he found what he was looking for in his bag, "I gotta be more careful."

He pulled out a small bottle, which was empty. He pouted at it.

"I'm gonna have to mix more lust potion. I had to use it all to increase their libido enough for them to descend on each other like they did."

Oskar gave a small smile, "Need me to hunt down a few more sirens for you?"

"That would be excellent of you," Riley stopped walked and turned towards him, "Which reminds me, I have a gift for you."

He pulled one more thing from his bag and hid it behind his back.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands darling," Riley gave him a small, legitimate smile.

The grinning and chuckling was part of what Oskar loved about this man. The confidence and the style was what made him so he was the vast majority of the time. But this... this genuine look of affection is what he lived for... what he would risk his life for.

Oskar did as he said without question.

After a moment, he felt a small weight fall into his large outstretched palms.

"Open them."

As Oskar opened his eyes, he saw a small wooden amulet in his hands.