Sex Wizards - Initiation Ch. 10-11

I feel my orgasm start to build but as soon as I get close, the hand on my cock stops. I wail as the bulb slides out of me, leaving me empty and waiting, shivering with anticipation. Then, I feel a hand on my back before I'm bent over. I yelp in surprise, but the silver keeps me from toppling. It's a strange sensation and it makes me feel that much more ungrounded. Now more than ever, I feel like I'm floating.

Something else prods at my ass, cool and hard. It was probably a bad idea to leave the rest of Margeurite's phalluses unused because one of the bigger ones slides into me next. I moan at the stretch. It almost feels like Arlon fucking me again, and though I've recovered from my bout with him, I know I'll be walking funny after this, too.

The hand on my cock starts to stroke again. I don't know who is in front of me and who is behind, but they work in tandem. Whoever is wielding the phallus goes slow, thrusting it in before dragging it back out while the hands stroke firmly in time. It's a strange sort of illusion - almost like I'm fucking myself.

It doesn't take long before my orgasm builds again. I get right to the ragged edge of no return before the hands around my cock let go. I wail, but the phallus only fucks me harder and deeper. For a second, I still think it'll be enough, but then the pressure starts to recede into my aching balls.

They keep it up until my hole is aching, yet when they pull it out, the ache only draws attention to how empty I feel. Then, I notice my cock tingling. I groan, trying to pinpoint the sensation, but it's like nothing I've ever felt. Whatever they slathered over my length has made me extra sensitive. Every brush of air, every gentle touch amplified.

Then the hands are gone, and I'm left with nothing but my tingling cock and a sore ass. A hand stays on my hip to remind me that someone's there, but otherwise, they just let me stew. But the phantom hands have started, and the extra-sensitivity in my cock doesn't help the matter. I feel like I'm being touched everywhere, yet none of them substantial enough to ease the aching need that's built in me.

When the hands - the real hands - start again, I don't know whether I want to cry with gratitude or desperation. I'm shifted again, put even more off kilter. I can't tell which way is up anymore. My arms are grabbed and put behind my back, but the silver holds me stronger than ropes ever could. I feel saliva drip from my mouth even as my legs are spread wider.

Then, my cock is swallowed by the warm heat of someone's mouth. I shout into the gag, and with how sensitive I am, I'm brought right to the edge again. I plead as best as I can. Unintelligible, I'm sure, but I doubt there's a gag in the world that could muffle my need. They pull away just as quick. and I sob helplessly.

It all starts to blur. I'm completely ungrounded, lost in the void that speaks to me in quiet whispers, reaches out to graze me with barely-there touches. I lose track of how many times my ass is fucked. How many times I'm brought to the edge until my balls ache for the release I'm convinced I'll never get. The torment seems to go on forever until I'm too tired to even attempt to fight it. I submit to the silver, submit to the delicious torment. I feel myself moved again, but it's a vague sort of awareness, like experiencing it in a dream.

Something stretches my ass again, re-slicked with lotion, and I can't do anything more than whimper. Then, I feel the brush of skin against my hips before something hot and slick slides down my length. I moan in earnest, knowing it's no mouth this time.

Whoever it is rides me hard, while the other fucks me from behind. The pace has changed now, and as my orgasm builds again, I feel like I might pass out of I'm not allowed to have it. But they have mercy on me. I get to the point of no return and brace for them to pull away. But they don't. My orgasm rocks through me, I feel like I'll pass out anyway. I shout into the gag, going lightheaded as the pleasure rushes out of me and into the waiting heat. Just like last time, the phantom colors coalesce into a picture, while the whispering voices narrow down to one.

It's Olbric.

He's been gone less than a week, but longing rushes through me at the sight of him. His skin is coated with sweat and ash, and he's breathing hard like he's been running. Something crashes behind him, and his eyes go wide before he takes off again.

His long legs carry him through the woods, darting through trees that look so very familiar. Another crash sounds, louder, closer. Olbric shouts, and the earth underneath his feet explodes into a rain of rocks and dirt.

He's pitched to the ground but recovers quick, rolling and scrambling backwards until the trunk of a tree halts his retreat. With a feral snarl, he grabs a focus from his necklace. It sparks out as fire curls from his extended hand. Someone screams as grim satisfaction curls Olbric's lips.

Then there's a flash of movement behind him. The shine of a naked dagger.

I scream a warning, but the miles between us render it useless. The blade slices through his necklace in one quick motion, sending his focuses tumbling. Olbric shouts in horror, trying to grab one - any one as they fall, but his fingers aren't quite quick enough.

A figure surges out of the fire and Olbric's eyes widen in shock before a fist connects with his face. It staggers him, but his hands scrape across the ground until his fingers find a fallen focus. Its lets loose, flinging his attacker back, and I recognize it as the first spell he had cast with me.

Olbric gasps for breath and hope swells in my chest. Then I see the flash of movement again. A dagger slides against his neck.

"One move and it's your life, wizard," a female voice says. As if to prove a point, the woman tightens her grip. Olbric gasps as a thin line is cut into the skin of his neck. The woman is wearing a dark hood that covers most of her pale face, but she doesn't take her eyes off Olbric as she says, "Diran, grab the spells."

The vision breaks apart and disappears back into the void. I scream again, willing it back, but the darkness doesn't respond. I'm left floating and ungrounded once more.

I thought I knew what it was like to feel helpless, but now, I realize that I didn't have a clue.

I'm eased out of the silver carefully. Margeurite and Galiva hold me like I'm some fragile thing that could break at any second. I feel like I might.

I'm sore everywhere, but even the intensity of my time in the silver isn't enough to erase the horror of what I Saw. Margeurite drapes a soft robe around my shoulders, and I pull it close as I lean into Galiva's embrace. She strokes my sweaty hair away from my face, and the way they both look at me says they know I haven't seen anything good.

"Gal," I say, my voice hoarse. "What did you See?"

Galiva swallows, her hand cupping my cheek. "It was Alix - one of our missing wizards," she whispers. Tears well in her eyes. "They were beating him - using him. They were... raping him."

I feel like I've been plunged into cold water. The haze of pleasure vanishes, and I feel sick as my stomach drops like a stone.

It hits me all at once. Wizards are being targeted. And they're being used for casting, whether they want it or not.

I bury my head in my hand, gripping my hair at the roots as I try and calm myself down. But this is no time to be calm. There's not a second to waste.

"Dom?" Galiva asks gently. "Are you alright?"

I shake my head. I don't want to believe it. The thought of it is too horrible to face, but I have to. I know what I saw.

"They've got Olbric."

###

Galiva, Marguerite and me find Arlon in his office the second we're dressed. He seems pleased that we have news, but as soon as Galiva starts talking, his face falls. I feel sick to my stomach as she recounts what she saw. Every detail could be important, and she doesn't leave any out, even if I wish she would.

"I didn't recognize the man doing it. I could hear others there but never caught sight of them," she says. "It was definitely some sort of casting room. Stone, with... tools on the walls."

Arlon's hands are steepled in front of him, eyes dark with fury. "And you?" he asks as he turns his attention to me. I tell him everything. Galiva's eyes brim with tears as I recount Olbric being attacked. It takes some doing to stop my voice from shaking, and as I finish, Arlon's focus sharpens.

"Did you say Diran?" he asks, his voice deadly calm.

I nod, not liking how that anger is focused on me now. I risk a glance at Galiva, but she's looking at Arlon, eyes wide. "Oh gods, I knew I recognized one of the voices," she breathes.

"Who's Diran?" I'm almost afraid to speak. Arlon is scary when he's mad. I'm suddenly aware that he could snap me like a twig if he cared to.

Arlon's brows furrow, rage settling in every line of his face. "A pathetic excuse for a wizard who came through our doors a couple years ago," he says. "He was expelled after three months for unapologetically violating a stop. His conduit was sent to the infirmary."

Galiva swallows and says, "We tried to have him arrested, but his family is... powerful."

"So what?" I ask.

"So, money speaks where justice should," Arlon spits and kneads his forehead between his fingers. "But at least now we know who we're dealing with."

"So what do we do?" I ask. Every part of me itches with the desire to move. To do something.

"Divination can provide visions of the past, present or future," Arlon says. "What did it feel like when you saw it?"

I swallow. "It felt like it was happening now," I say. "I-I felt like if I could just yell loud enough Olbric would hear me."

Arlon unlocks a drawer in his desk and pulls out the largest strand of spells I've ever seen. It's got eight full strings on it and looks like it weighs a ton. "Then we don't have time to waste," he says and relief surges through me at the declaration. "We know where Olbric was posted. If we start there, we might be able to follow their trail. Galiva and Margeurite, I want both of you along. We need to gather Cancassi, Ambra, and Thaddius. I'll send for Garrett. I want everyone to reinforce every strand on their necklace with wire before we leave."

My stomach drops when I realize what he hasn't said. "What? No! Arlon, you have to take me!"

Arlon sweeps around to the front of his desk and puts his hands on my shoulders. "Dominai, you are an adept. One with undeniable skill, but we are very likely going into a firefight. I can't in good conscience throw you into this."

I don't back down. "Olbric only told me he was going to the hills to defend some mine, but it's the Black Burrows isn't it?" The only reason I know the name is because folks from Airedale would travel down to work the mines every summer. It was about two week's trip from town and paid well, if you were willing to risk the danger of the job. Arlon's eyes narrow, and that anger makes me quake, but the need to act makes me press on. "I recognized the woods in my vision - he's just at the edge of the Hobokins, isn't he?"

Arlon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Dominai-"

"I'm an adept, but I spent my life before this in those hills," I insist. "If you can't take me as a wizard, at least let me be a guide! I can track, I can hunt, and I know the Hobokins better than anyone. You want to find them as bad as I do, and I'm your best shot."

Arlon gives me a searching look. I clench my fists at my side to keep my hands from shaking. I see him thinking, and he must come to the same conclusion I have; it's a good argument. He sighs at last. "You will do everything I say, when I say it."

Relief makes my lightheaded. "Right. Of course."

Arlon pulls a focus from his large string of spells. "You will stay close, and if it comes to a fight, you will take this and stay down until it's over, do you understand?"

I take the spell, and have handled enough to to feel that it's abjuration, but even stronger than the one Galiva and I cast. "Understood." I string the focus onto my necklace look up at him. "Thank you."

Arlon sighs and turns to Margeurite. "Tell tell the kitchens that we'll need travel rations for eight people. Three weeks, to be safe, though gods willing this won't take that long." He looks at Galiva. "Find Cancassi and have them prepare eight of their fastest horses to leave tomorrow. I'll speak to the quartermaster about supplies."

"Wait, what about the longstrider spell that got Olbric there in the first place?" I ask.

Arlon looks at me and gives a huff of a laugh. "Unless you want to ride to the foothills with a phallus in you, we don't have enough castings of it. We have to travel the old fashioned way." He must see the dismay on my face because he ads, "With Cancassi's horses, we'll make it in four days." He shows a flash of teeth when he smirks. "But I'll keep that spell in mind for the way back."

#

The afternoon dissolves into a flurry of activity, and I'm reminded again just how fast wizards work. News spreads quick, and soon the entire Crux knows that Arlon and a retinue are leaving. By evening, they all know the reason why.

Dinner that night is quiet. The news has spread a pall through the Crux. I make it halfway through my own meal before I give it up as a lost cause. Nerves have effectively ruined my appetite.

I head back to my room to triple-check my pack. The quartermaster has provided us everything we should need - sleeping mats, oiled wool cloaks for the cold and wet mountain nights, wood axes, flint and steel for fires. In all my years going through the woods, this will be the best equipped I've ever been.

I grab my bow and check the string before packing my backup, just to be safe. I pull out my quiver next and grab my arrows. I go through them one by one, checking the fletching and tips before sharpening them on the small whetstone I brought from home. I'm on my last one when there's a quiet knock on my door.

Galiva gives a small smile as he peeks her head in. "Hey."

I set my last arrow back into the quiver. "Hey."

She lets herself in and closes the door behind her before she sits with me on my bed. Her head rests against my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her before scooting us both onto the too-small bed. I already know why she's here. I'm glad for it. Neither of us want to be alone right now.

Her fingers trail across my collar bone as she settles her head against my chest. "I didn't get a chance to thank you," she says, breaking the silence. "I went into that casting room, not knowing what to expect, but Dom... you were amazing."

I give a small laugh as I rub her head through her curls. "Thank you for trusting me."

Galiva smiles as she looks up at me. "I'm glad I did."

We fall back into silence, just enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company. "You ever seen Arlon that angry before?" I ask after a moment.

"I was there when he expelled Diran. Today was nothing compared to that," she says. "He's usually so calm. That was the only time I've ever heard him yell. He takes violation of consent very seriously."

I swallow and think of all the times I've been at someone else's mercy while at the Crux. Every time I've acted as a conduit was a test of trust, and I can't imagine how horrible it must feel to have that trust broken. I tighten my embrace on Galiva, worry twisting my gut.

"Who is this guy?" I ask at last.

"Diran Barclay," she mutters. "The Barclays are a wealthy family. They're also one of the oldest recorded magical bloodlines, so when Diran arrived, he came in like he was the gods gift to the Crux He struck me as arrogant and an asshole on top of that, so I never agreed to cast with him. Looking back, it was the best decision." She shivers, and I smooth my hand over the wild curls of her hair. "I was working on my corpimancy mastery, and I helped Garrett stitch up his conduit after he beat her bloody with evocation."

The thought of it makes me hot with anger. "He sounds like a real prick," I mutter but even that's too kind of a word. "I hope Arlon sent him out flat on his ass."

Galiva gives a short huff of a laugh. "Diran was furious, but he was no match for Arlon. An abjuration held him long enough for Arlon to take his spells and kick him across the bridge. With luck, Diran is still as useless in a duel."

"We can hope," I say, though who knows what sort of tricks he may have learned in the years since.

"It caused a bit of a stir with Straetham for awhile," Galiva says. "The Barclays raised a ruckus over his expulsion. They even petitioned King Thermilious to try and allow Diran back into the Crux, but Arlon wouldn't have it. He cited the King's own decree that granted him jurisdiction over magical matters and outright refused."

"Hell of a power move," I say. I don't know much about Straetham politics, but even I can see that much.

"It certainly didn't put him on the King's good side," Galiva says. "But it was the right decision, whether Thermilious agrees or not." Her hand tightens on the collar of my shirt as she says, "In the infirmary, Justinia told me that it wasn't until she begged Diran to stop that he finally did. She left the Crux just a few months after. Gave up magic entirely. And seeing what they were doing to Alix..."

I shudder and tighten my grip around her shoulders. "Gods Gal, I'm sorry that's what you Saw for your first divining."

She swallows and she tightens her grip on my shirt. "I don't know who else Diran has working with him, but what they're doing is unforgivable."

I press a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll find them," I say, and I have to believe it. "We'll stop them."

Galiva doesn't answer. She goes quiet and after some time, I feel her relax as her breathing starts to even out. I don't much feel like sleeping, but I must, because the next thing I know, the early morning sun is peeking through my window and someone is quietly knocking on my door. Galiva blinks and extracts herself from my arms to answer.

Cancassi gives us a smile that doesn't quite reach their eyes. "Time to go."

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Added note: This story will never show rape in any graphic detail.