Mud and Magic Ch. 01-03

Rhys closed his eyes, trying to block out the grinning dwarf. He sighed. "I can't answer that."

"No? For most men, it's a rather simple and emphatic answer," Galdor suggested. "Women seem to be more flexible in that regard, so I have learned."

"Problem is...," Rhys said, faltering "I- I can't believe I'm telling you this. We hardly know each other!"

"That's the beauty of this game. Whenever members of different clans meet, at the earliest opportunity the dice come out. Helps with making friends. Or enemies." He laughed. "Come now. I won't ridicule you either way."

"It's not that simple. See, I..." Rhys took another swig from his mead. "I only had my first time two days ago. With a woman." He held out his empty glass. "If that's the route we're going, I think I'll need a bit of courage."

"You still haven't answered my question though," Galdor said, refilling Rhys glass. "What gets your blood stirring?"

"I see you won't give it a rest this easy. Fine." Rhys said. "Girls."

"Now, was that so hard?" Galdor rolled the dice and noted the score. "I just wanted to know." He passed the dice to Rhys.

He rolled. Six and eight.

The cup passed back and forth between them. The tally rose rather evenly but neither of them rolled double ones or eights for a few minutes. Until Galdor rolled a double-one again.

"I must have hammered unevenly somewhere," he said, chuckling. "Ask away."

Rhys took a sip from his refilled glass, a wicked twinkle in his eye. "Turnabout is fair play. Your first time."

Galdor patted his knee fondly. "Finally. I knew there were some balls in there." He leaned back and drank the remaining half of his glass. "I'm somewhat of an oddity among dwarves," he began. "Many of my peers love structure, rules and stability. Not too surprising when most of your life revolves around tunnels which could crumble at any moment if someone forgot to prop up the ceiling. Me? I was the odd one. Much too interested in finding the curios, the exceptions. Before my beard had fully grown, I've tasted cocks and pussies both. Fascinating, these early explorations. The problem with dwarves is they are very reluctant to commit unless a huge dowry is involved, especially if you show interest in a male. It's not outright forbidden but the clan Elders are a bit conservative and complain when you can't procreate." He shrugged and refilled his glass. "I lost the key to my treasure chest in Storm Harbor. To my teacher, of all people. He was a handsome dark elven potion maker." Galdor grinned at Rhys. "Surprised?"

"Yes, quite." Rhys picked up the dice and shook. "How about today?"

Galdor wagged a finger. "That, my friend, you have to earn first. Roll."

Rhys slammed the cup onto the table. Three and one.

"Not this time," Galdor chuckled, picking up the dice. He rolled. Double ones.

"Really? There has to be something wrong with this thing," the dwarf muttered, carefully rocking the table. He looked at his opponent. "Are you doing this?"

Rhys shook his head, carefully. Things seemed to slowly spin around him. "No. I feel I'm getting a little drunk. Shouldn't cast magic anyway until I'm better at finding Ether sources, Idunn said. But since you rolled a two..."

"Fair enough. Depends on my mood. And obviously on the people around me," Galdor chuckled. "One thing I quickly learned though -- keep away from Borna."

"Why?" Rhys grabbed the dice and shook the cup.

"I'll give you this as a gift and a bit of friendly advice. Borna may seem like all your darkest fantasies come true but she is very dangerous. My night with her started like the grandest of buffets but ended with me in Idunn's room for a week and some very awkward explanations on my part while she dragged me back from the edge of death."

A knock at the door stopped Galdor from talking any further. Rhys suddenly felt much more sober as he thought about the demonic-looking Borna. "Yes?" he called.

The door opened and a slender being entered. The blue student robes were almost invisible against her body, covered with fine purple scales. She closed the door behind her and joined Rhys and Galdor at the table. Close up, Rhys could see that his guest was an exotic hybrid of woman and snake. Her head was snake-like, bald, with barely a nose and a wide mouth with thin, almost invisible lips. An intricate pattern, silver, green strands intertwining, began between her eyes and went over her skull. Her eyes were green as well, with vertically slitted pupils. A forked tongue flicked from her mouth, tasting the air. Her body was slender and almost too curvy, as if her spine had one bend too many. A pleasant aroma wafted from her, some fruity smell Rhys couldn't place.

"I hope I'm not interrupting ssssomething," she said, slightly lisping. "I've been looking all over for Galdor."

"Wee-ll," the dwarf began. "Ahem. I must have forgotten to tell you that I'll be staying here until my room is fixed. Also, Rhys, meet Chassari. Envoy of the Luminous City, Peerless Enchantress. Slut."

Rhys expected an outraged retort, not a deep bow and a smile. "You honor me, Galdor, with thisss eloquent introduction." She righted herself and extended a long-fingered hand to Rhys. "The pleasure isss all mine. You are a hard man to meet."

"Idunn and Elara just didn't want to let me leave," Rhys said, giggling. He closed his hand around hers. Chassari's skin was like soft, textured leather. She hissed softly.

"Did I do something wrong?" Rhys asked, perplexed. He withdrew his hand in a hurry.

Chassari shook her head. "Not at all. That wasss very pleasurable for me." Again, she bowed. "I would loath to intrude but I heard the sound of dice. Is there perhapsss a spot left at the table?" Her tongue again flicked the air. "I also wouldn't mind a glassss."

"Your call," Galdor said, nodding to Rhys. "It's your room."

"What's the saying? 'The more, the merrier?'" Rhys asked with a somewhat heavy tongue.

Chassari chuckled, a foreign sound more like hisses than anything. "In my homeland, it isss 'the bigger the knot, the better,'" she said. Galdor stood up and fetched another glass. Chassari pulled a stool to the table, sitting down between Rhys and Galdor. She looked at the dice on the table. "You are playing 'Ones and Eights.' How delightful. What isss the wager?"

"Since this is Rhys' first time, I was going easy on him," Galdor said, sitting down. He filled the glass and handed it to Chassari. "Questions and a favor."

"How did it go?"

"He's grown accustomed to the rules by now, I guess." Galdor looked at Rhys intently for a moment. "How do you feel?"

"Give me a moment," Rhys said. He stood up and walked, unsteadily, to the bathroom. The sound of splashing water echoed. A moment later he returned, his hair a wet mess but his eyes were a lot clearer.

"Since we have a new player at the table, let's reset the scores," Galdor said. He placed the wax tablet between both palms. Rhys noticed the smell of rapidly heating wood. A thin wisp of smoke rose from between Galdor's palms and he let the tablet slip back onto the table, rubbing his hands. The wax had melted, erasing the scores. He wiped his hands on his trousers.

"How did you do that?" Rhys asked.

"I've told you. I am an alchemist. Changing the properties of things is what I do. I caused my body temperature to rise sharply enough to melt wax."

"He can do other impressive thingsss with hisss body alssso," Chassari hissed, writhing on her stool. "Now, why don't we make things interesssting?" she asked, her large eyes looking at both men simultaneously.

"Interesting how?" Rhys asked, mesmerized by her gently swaying body. Despite her best efforts, Chassari seemed to be always in motion, even if it was only a hand caressing her thigh or her tongue tasting the air. She seemed utterly impossible to keep still.

"I wasss thinking about daressss and a night. Anyone ssssay 'aye?'"

"I've got nothing to lose," Galdor said, raising a hand. "Aye."

"And I'll probably regret it," Rhys muttered. His eyes flickered from Galdor to Chassri. He was relaxed, alert. She looked at him expectantly, one hand on her thigh, making a soft rustling sound. "Dara would probably chastise me for chickening out, so... Aye, damn it." He grabbed his glass and took a long swig, almost emptying it. "Uh... how does it work?"

"It'ssss easy," Chassari whispered. "Once you roll double eights, you can ask anyone for a dare. If you roll a double-one, the player on the left gets to call a dare." She made an elegant, circling motion with a finger. "Agreed?"

"Sure."

"The one with the highest score at the end gets to spend a night with one of the losers," Galdor added. "Deal?"

"Only if we make it 'with both loserssss,' Chassari hissed. Rhys twitched as he felt her hand on his thigh, inside his robe. He could see her other hand on Galdor's leg, her long, exquisitely painted nails scratching over the sturdy fabric.

"You are impossible," Galdor chuckled. "Why not invite Elara and Borna too?"

"Shall I fetch them?" Chassari asked, poised to rise. Galdor pulled her back onto her stool by her wrist, causing the exotic beauty to pout for a moment.

"Didn't you forget someone?" Rhys asked. Chassari's hand had returned to his thigh, softly caressing him.

"No. I would never, ever, let a goblin, let alone that goblin, near my precious balls," Galdor growled. "And Hilgrun..."

"She intimidatessss him," Chassari purred. "Since no one else is sssstarting, I'll go." She picked up the cup with both hands and shook it, a complicated, sinuous motion involving her whole body. Rhys fought hard not to stare at the hypnotic display of her breasts swaying under her robe. Finally, she dumped the cup. Double eight.

"Trickster's shrivelled cock," Galdor cursed.

"All right, dwarf," Chassari ordered. "Drop your pantssss."

"Going easy on Rhys, eh?" Galdor grumbled. "Then help me get my boots off first." With Chassari's help, his heavy boots soon stood neatly arrayed beside the armchair. Galdor slowly undid the belt and worked his way down the four buttons holding his trousers closed. Chassari writhed on her chair, hissing softly to herself. Her hand on Rhys' thigh had slowed to a languid crawl which crept ever closer to his loincloth. He shrugged and scooted a bit closer. His glass was empty by now.

"There, happy?" Galdor asked, folding his pants and placing them over the armrest. He wore an embroidered loincloth. Battleaxes and gold coins on a black background.

"Yesss... very nice." Chassari hissed, passing the dice to Rhys. Her second hand slid onto Galdor's calf.

He rolled, eight and two. Galdor noted the score and plucked the dice. The cup went around the table four times before the next double occurred, a double eight for Galdor. He jumped up from his chair, pumping his fist.

"Finally!"

"What issss your wish?" Chassari hissed, steepling her fingers expectantly under her chin.

Rhys sighed, a little disappointed.

"Since you rid me of my pants already, how about you lose your robe?" Galdor jabbed a finger at her.

"I thought you'd never ask," Chassari said, rising. She undid the three buttons holding the blue garment closed at chest height, shrugging out of the sleeves. Rustling softly, the garment fell to her waist, revealing shapely breasts, barely more than a handful. Then the belt opened and the robe fell away completely, revealing smooth, purple scales. Chassari slowly turned in place, raising her hands over her head as she did, her hips doing a mesmerizing sway. The silver and green pattern ran down her back, down to her firm behind, where it split and continued down the back of her legs. She bent forward, legs slightly spread. Rhys followed her every move. Where human -- and probably dwarf, elf and even goblin -- women had their nether lips, Chassari sported twin scales, forming a thin seam, ending just below her puckered butt hole. The snake-lady slithered back onto her stool and grinned viciously. "Satisssfied?" she asked no one in particular.

"Ahem. Quite the display. Your turn, Rhys. Still with us?"

"Hm? Oh, yes." He blinked furiously and grabbed the dice cup. "Here we go." He rolled. Six and six. Again, the cup went around the table several times without anything interesting happening. Rhys tried to concentrate on the game but Chassari's hand on his thigh was both a blessing and a curse in that regard. He had refused a third refill, which probably was the right thing to do, but her skillful fingertips were causing a massive distraction. The cup reached him again. Almost nonchalantly, he shook and prepared to roll. Chassari's fingertips slithered under his loincloth for the first time. He nearly threw the cup in Galdor's face. One of the dice clicked onto the floor.

Galdor sighed theatrically. "You can't play fair, eh Chassari?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Her foot came up, the die wedged between her toes. Smiling, she let it drop into the cup. "I say he may roll again."

"Fine with me since it was your doing which made him toss the cup."

Rhys rolled again. Double eight. He closed his eyes and thought. "Show me what is between your thighs again, Chassari. Please." He carefully enunciated each word as if it were fragile, possibly breaking if handled wrong.

"A true explorer," Galdor said. "Bravo."

Chassari stood up and planted one leg on Rhys' armrest, bending her knee so the area between her thighs was clearly visible. The scales on her mound were as fine as those on her fingertips and palms, growing larger the further up her body one looked.

"You are wondering about these?" Chassari asked, her fingernails clicking against the scales below her mound. "My ancestorssss come from a place with a lot of ssssand. Thisss keeps the sssand out."

Rhys leaned in, intrigued. Chassari hissed softly as his cheek caressed the inside of her thigh. She closed her eyes. The scales retracted, revealing a smooth, pink opening with a raised bulge around it. Chassari tousled Rhys hair, shivering as his breath wafted over the opening. "You may kisss it, if you want," she suggested.

"My, you're in a giving mood," Galdor said, clicking his empty glass onto the table.

"The game wassss getting boring," Chassari purred, her fingers in Rhys' hair. "Would you be overly angry if we took a little break?"

Galdor looked Rhys up and down, his half-open robe, the bulge under his loincloth and his mouth only half a finger's width away from Chassari's opening.

"One condition. Once you're sated, you leave. He needs his beauty sleep."

"Agreed." To Rhys, she said. "Come, let'sss continue thisss on the bed."

"Sure." He came to his feet unsteadily and undid his robe.

Chassari quickly undid his loincloth then guided him to the bed. She slithered onto the mattress, rolled onto her back and spread her legs invitingly. Rhys followed her, his head coming to rest between her thighs.

"You smell nice. What is that?" he asked.

Chassari practically purred as every word caused his breath to caress her opening. "It'ss called peach. A fruit which sometimes looks like a woman's behind. It is native to my homeland. Very ssssweet when ripe."

He leaned in, kissing her opening. Chassari moaned, both hands on his head. Rhys took the hint, extending his tongue and licking her. Hesitant at first but each stab with his tongue caused the serpentkin to moan and writhe harder, emboldening him.

Galdor raised an eyebrow. "He's got guts," he muttered to himself, slowly stripping. "I needed a few weeks to try. But then, I was not not quite as drunk." He locked his gaze with Chassari. She curled one hand urgently. Galdor grinned viciously and took his time removing his shirt. He knew that the serpentkin wanted him, especially now that another mouth was on her, licking the opening which was ringed by that sensitive stretch of nerve endings, like a clitoris all around.

Slowly, Galdor approached the bed, his short, stout cock leading the way. He looked at Rhys. The young sorcerer was on his elbows, his butt high in the air, his slender cock, slightly curved upwards, pointing at the mattress. A shiver of anticipation went through Galdor. He'd love to have that inside of him eventually. But first, he had a certain serpentkin to pleasure. He closed his eyes and focused, closing one hand around his hardness. He stroked gently, as not to arouse himself too much. He willed his organ to expand, to grow. When his questing hand had to travel twice its original length, he climbed onto the mattress, kneeling next to Chassari's head. He had barely settled on his haunches as her tongue encircled him. He cupped one of her breasts, caressing the spot where the scales were at their most sensitive. Not that there was one inch on her body which was not erogenous when she wanted. He had seen Elara innocently caress Chassari's shoulder, only for the serpentkin to nearly climax.

He cradled Chassari's head in one hand, slowly feeding his cock to her. The long, flexible tongue had curled twice around him, squeezing like a minuscule hand while her mouth sucked deliciously. Her hand found his balls and squeezed them before slithering further back, massaging his rear entrance.

"Sneaky viper, you," Galdor hissed, rolling his hips forwards and plunging his rod deep into her greedy mouth. She gurgled happily, her pelvis arching off the bed. Rhys moaned in protest as he was deprived of her nethers to lick. Galdor withdrew his rod, causing Chassari to complain wordlessly. She pressed her hand on the small of his back, nearly toppling him, which would have impaled his rock-hard cock deep into her mouth. Galdor didn't budge. Instead he bent down and whispered, "How about the both of us?" His hand crawled down her stomach, an outstretched finger aiming for her opening.

"Oh yesssss," she hissed. "Please."

"Rhys? You're still alive?"

An indistinct moan came from between Chassari's thighs. Rhys' head came up, his chin and lips wet with her moisture. The serpentkin rolled to the side and pulled Rhys closer until she could roll him onto his back. She slithered on top of him, causing him to whimper as her lithe tongue caressed his body and her mouth eventually closed around his cock. Her scales moved against him as she flattened her whole length against him, resting her knees to either side of his head. The young sorcerer didn't miss a beat, again going for her opening with his mouth and kneading the curves of her butt hungrily.

<i>Whoever taught him did a bang-up job</i> Galdor thought. He closed his hand around his cock and gave a few squeezes. He knew he'd probably be the slowest of the three. Chassari could climax almost indefinitely, he knew from personal experience, and he guessed Rhys-

Chassari hissed and groaned, a prodigious amount of Rhys' seed spilling over her lips. <i>The fires of youth,</i> Galdor grinned, shuffling on his knees to Chassari. She looked up at him, offering her mouth for a kiss. Galdor eagerly accepted, tasting Rhys for the first time off the serpentkin's lips. He was amazed at the taste, so much stronger and thicker than any dark elven cum he'd licked off his former teacher. Chassari's hand closed around his rod and pulled him close, easily taking both their lances into her wide mouth. Rhys moaned incoherently but it wasn't a sound of discomfort. Far from it. Galdor grinned, cupping Chassari's head. While Rhys writhed slowly underneath her, Galdor fucked her mouth. Her tongue whipped around them both, nearly driving even Galdor over the edge.

"That's enough," he murmured, withdrawing. Chassari moaned in protest, her tongue only reluctantly relinquishing him. Galdor again played with his rod, trying to muster the concentration for another change. It was harder than expected. Closing his eyes helped. Soon his prick was long and slender, not unlike Rhys'. He opened his eyes. Chassari had changed her position in the meantime, straddling Rhys and grinding her dripping, peach-smelling opening along his rod. Each stroke was accompanied by a long hiss or moan.