Sex Wizards - Mastery Ch. 08

Arlon looks at me curiously. "What do you mean?"

I frown and roll on my side to face him, though I can't quite meet his eyes. "When you were rallying folks to go to the Hobokins, you weren't going to take me. But I fought you on it. I... don't know if I could do that anymore." I give a lopsided grin. "You may have beaten the rebellion out of me."

Arlon's rough palm cups my cheek. "Dom, I didn't suggest collaring to break you," he says. "Some I'll collar to knock their ego down a notch or two, but I am the last person to want to quash the rebellion in anyone. You came on that trip because you were confident you could help. And you were right."

When I try to look away, his hand pulls me back, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes are the color of fresh tilled earth, and they're focused on me fondly. "When that collar comes off, when we drop this power dynamic, my only wish is to see that confidence grow," he says even as his smile fades a little.

"Being grandmaster of the Crux often means making decisions I'd rather not make, or choosing paths I'd rather not choose. Frankly, sometimes it's downright terrifying," he says through a sigh. "But having the insight of those I trust helps, and Dom, I trust you. I never would have collared you if I didn't. You are talented and capable and far smarter than you think. Trust your judgment. And when it is at odds with mine, I trust that you will speak up."

I swallow and lean into his hand. This is Arlon saying this, and he's one of the few people who can speak louder than the doubts in my head. "I will," I promise. "Thank you."

Arlon presses his forehead against mine. I sigh and lean against him, feeling the warmth of his breath mingle with my own. "I think it's safe to say that this has been an emotional week for both of us," he murmurs.

I can't stop a small laugh. "I think that's a pretty correct assessment," I say. "I'm going to miss your bed."

Arlon chuckles. "I don't normally allow those I collar to sleep in it," he admits. "But I've made you one of the few exceptions to that." He drums his fingers against the back of my neck before he releases it and pulls away to look at me. "I'll remove your collar tonight," he declares. "But if you so choose to stay after that, my bed is open to you. We can talk on equal footing again."

I flush with pleasure. "I'd like that."

Arlon smiles. "Good. I haven't collared anyone like you in some time, and I have a feeling that freeing you will be an adjustment for both of us," he says. "I'll miss having you under my desk."

I chuckle and say, "Strange to say I'll miss it too." It takes me a second, but I meet his eyes, and a second longer to muster the question. "Can we... do this again sometime? It was... nice to give up control like this." That's not a big enough word to describe what this week was. "Fulfilling."

Arlon beams at me. It's such a rare sight. It makes my chest swell to see it. "It was just as fulfilling to be given that control," he says. "I would like that very much." He thinks for a moment before saying, "What about a standing day every week? Would that be too often?"

My stomach does a funny little somersault. "No, that sounds perfect."

"Mondays, then?"

It's a slow day for casting usually, which makes it perfect. And with today being Friday, it means I'll only have to go a couple of days without seeing him. It'll be a nice way to ease back into freedom. "I'll be here," I promise.

"Good," Arlon says. He reaches up and toys with the little ring on my collar. "Once this is off, I'll give it to you. Unless we discuss a cancellation beforehand, on Mondays, you'll be to my office by eight with your collar on, and you'll stay until you wake up the next morning. Agreeable?"

I can't stop a shiver of anticipation. "Thank you."

"I can't promise I'll always have the time to cast with you," Arlon warns. "But I will always be grateful for your presence and will do my best to make it worth your time."

I give a small laugh. "You won't need to worry about that," I say. "This week has been interesting in more ways than just casting."

"I'm glad," Arlon says. "You've proven yourself a rather invaluable aide. I'd be glad for your help."

My smile is wide, and I can't seem to wipe it away. Instead, I lean in and press my lips to his. A quick, grateful kiss. Arlon catches me before I can pull away and holds me close before deepening it. I can't stop a gasp as he steals my breath, makes my head swim. When he finally releases me, that look is back on his face as his finger loops through the ring on my collar.

"Are you ready to continue, Dominai?"

I swallow, my heartbeat spiking. I'm not sure how long we've rested, but I feel myself stirring already. After a week of deprivation, one spell isn't enough to wear me out. "Yes, sir."

Arlon smiles. "Good."

After Arlon feeds me a quick lunch, he takes me deep. Abjuration finds me suspended in ropes similar to what I did with Galiva. Then he adds illusion on top of it, covering my eyes with a blindfold and blocking my ears with wax before securing a ring gag into my mouth again. It's almost like being in the silver, though the bite of the ropes hold in a very different way. Focuses are slid down my fingers, though he leaves my thumbs unencumbered in case I need to stop.

I'm spun around and feel Arlon do something to the ropes that forces my legs open wider. It wrings a surprised gasp from me, but he doesn't give me time to recover before he's entering me. The ropes allow him to fuck me deep as he pulls me onto his cock.

I shout with each hard thrust, relishing the abandon of submitting. My head hangs low, spit dripping from my forced-open mouth. Arlon grabs my hard length, I arch with a wail. I'm so used to the immovable hold of the silver that I savor the chance to writhe and shout. I want him to hear my appreciation as I beg and moan around the gag.

Maybe it's because I primed myself this morning, but as he fucks me, I feel another internal orgasm building. Arlon expertly strokes my cock, and I realize he's trying to ruin me all over again.

I almost dread having another. The first nearly undid me.

But Arlon doesn't seem to care. After a week of keeping me locked up, he seems intent to give me everything that I've missed and more. His cock thrusts deep, and with the angle he's tied me, it hits that sweet spot relentlessly. His hand is slick with lotion and the way he strokes me almost makes me feel like I'm inside someone. I plead around my gag, begging him not to stop.

It feels so good it almost hurts, and I scream my gratitude when he allows me to cum. He doesn't so much as pause his thrusts as his hand milks my cock for every last drop. Soon I'm screaming for a different reason as the prolonged pleasure becomes a torment of its own. I beg and plead around my gag but Arlon doesn't stop until he wrings one last drop out of my spent cock.

When he pulls out, I whimper and let my head drop. The focuses are lifted from my fingers, the blindfold pulled from my eyes, the plugs from my ears. The gag, however, he keeps in.

My head hangs low as I pant for breath, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Arlon cleaning his cock in the small wash basin. Below me, I see the puddles of spit and cum I've left on the floor and realize that he's not through with me yet. He didn't finish.

"Are you alright?"

Another whimper spills a fresh string of saliva from my mouth to the ground. I hadn't even realized Arlon had come back over. I manage a weak nod, but Arlon's hand catches me under the chin and lifts my head. He tilts me this way and that, examining me closely before he nods in approval. He lets my head fall again before he says, "I think I'll switch to evocation."

My hands clench under the ropes, another tormented moan spilling from me. I'm sore and used, muscles aching from being tied for so long, but I'm his to enjoy, and it's not my place to deny him what he wants. But Arlon can read me like a book, and he says, "I'm going to wring two more spells out of you."

I'm almost disappointed, but I'm so deep in it that I'll trust Arlon's judgment over my own. He goes to the wall and grabs something I can't see. He puts a fresh set of focuses over my fingers. Impossibly, my cock stirs again, and Arlon chuckles.

"A week of deprivation has done well for your stamina," he says. He adjusts the ropes, tying an extra sling for my head and neck. Normally, I'd be afraid of someone tying ropes around my neck when suspended, but Arlon is sure and confident. The ropes link through the ring of my collar, while a few others loop around my neck. He ties the rope cleverly, so when I try to let my head hang, it chokes me a little, but the ropes through my collar ring stops it from choking me too much. It forces me to keep my head up, which he uses to his advantage.

His hand fists in my hair before he thrusts into my forced open mouth. I taste a hint of soap on his length as he puts all that training I did through the week to good use. The ropes give him leverage to fuck my throat until I gag, but even then he only pulls back a little.

Something snaps against my ass in a stinging slap, and I shout around his cock. Without the ring forcing my teeth apart, I might have bit him in my surprise. The thing snaps down on my ass again even as Arlon thrusts deep to muffle my shout.

Whatever it is he's using hurts, like a crop but bigger, more solid. He rains down the blows, one after another, and I realize that he must have some sort of paddle. Tears sting my cheeks as he pulls out, giving me a brief moment to catch my breath before he thrusts back in. I'm not sure how long I hang there having my throat fucked and my ass beat. Arlon doesn't relent until my skin radiates heat that I'll feel long after my collar is off.

When he finally pulls out of my mouth, I can't stop a little sob. I feel light-headed in the aftermath of it, my backside one big welt. I just want to let my head hang, but the ropes stop me from doing even that. He snatches the focuses off my fingers before sliding on six more.

Then Arlon comes behind me, his cool hands grabbing the reddened mounds of my ass. I cry out weakly before he reaches up and unclasps the gag from my mouth. It falls to the ground, and I moan as I'm allowed to stretch my jaw. "Sir, please," I whimper, though I'm not sure what I'm begging for.

Arlon hand grips my hair and pulls my head back, making me shout. I feel his weight between my spread legs, his erect cock poking at me, though he doesn't push into me again. "What is it you want, Dominai?"

I shudder, and the heat in his voice sends a thrill through me. "I want to make you cum, sir."

"And how would you do that?" he asks, the perfect control in his voice completely at odds with the quaver of desperation in mine.

"I-I don't know, sir," I gasp. "My mouth, my ass - whatever you want."

"That's exactly right," Arlon says approvingly as his hand tightens in my hair. "Whatever I want. Because you're my fuckboy, aren't you?" I whimper and nod as best as I can, but that's not a good enough answer. "Say it, Dominai."

I feel the tip of his slicked cock prod at me and arch with a gasp. "I'm your fuckboy, sir."

"And what's a fuckboy good for?" he hisses as the tip of him slips into my sore hole.

I jerk, nerves alright with a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Whatever you want, sir," I whimper.

"Damn straight."

Arlon seats himself with one hard thrust that makes me choke on my own breath. If there's one thing I've learned this week, it's that Arlon likes it rough. With his size, it can't be something he's able to do often, but he's trained me to take him in every way, and I don't disappoint now.

Arlon uses the ropes for leverage as he fucks me hard, pulling me onto him even as he thrusts to meet me. Every snap of his hips sends sparks of sensation across my reddened skin, pleasure edged with pain shooting through me as he drags over that spot inside of me. Impossibly, I feel another orgasm building. I don't know what else I can give, but Arlon is intent to take it.

His hand grabs my cock again, and I can't stop a broken sob. My length swells again under his touch, and I'm almost mad at it. I don't know if I can handle another. The last one felt like a miracle, but this one is starting to feel like torture.

Arlon had warned me though. This is the last spell. He strokes in time with every thrust before he slaps a hand against my red ass. I yelp even as it sends a flash a desire through me. "Gods, the way you tense up," he groans and slaps me again. The pleasure that thickens his voice feeds my own need, and I feel the pressure building again.

"I'm going to cum, sir," I moan.

"Not yet you aren't," Arlon growls, even as he speeds up his pace.

I wail, eyes clenched shut tight as I try to stave it off. But this may be an order I can't obey. "Sir, please, please."

"Not yet," Arlon pants and squeezes the base of my cock hard. He groans, and I'm so sore and so raw that his cock feels huge as it swells inside of me. His breath hisses out of his nose, and he gives me a few more brutal thrusts as his hand starts to stroke me again. "Now you may cum."

It's like my body was waiting for permission. I scream as I orgasm again, though my cock only gives a dribble of clear liquid. Arlon thrusts once more before he seats himself deep, moaning as he fills me. My whole body shudders in the ropes, my orgasm wiping every thought from my head. I don't know how long it goes on for, but by the time it subsides, I feel empty, my vision fuzzy at the edges. For a second, I just float there, not even feeling the ropes that shorten my breath and dig into my skin.

It's bliss.

I don't really register Arlon lowering me down, don't really hear the words of praise and comfort he murmurs to me even though they make my chest swell with pride all the same. The ropes are loosened, and I feel his warm hands gently rub at the marks they left on my skin. Then, he scoops me up with a grunt. I drape my arms around his shoulders, and bury my face against his neck.

I feel warm steam banish the chill of the Crux, and I blink as the baths swim into focus. Someone asks a question, and Arlon chuckles before replying. I'm glad I don't have to try and summon words yet. Instead, Arlon helps me into one of the pools, the hot water stinging the new set of welts he's given me.

He slides in behind me a moment later and drapes an arm around me to keep me upright. I let out a long sigh and am content to float, safe and warm until my senses come back to me. My eyes are the first thing that starts working right, and I blink up at Arlon. He's reclined comfortably against the edge of the pool, his eyes closed, though one arm holds me to his chest. I smile before the rest of the baths come into focus and start a bit when I realize we're not alone.

In the pool across from us are Olbric and Cancassi, and both of them are watching us. Cancassi looks a little amazed, but if I wasn't still floating halfway out of my body, I'd say Olbric looks upset. I blink, but when I open my eyes again, both of them are gone, and I wonder if I had imagined them.

Arlon stirs as I do and lets out a contented little sigh. "Are you alright?" he murmurs.

I smile as I let my head fall back against his chest. "Great. Going to be sitting tender for weeks," I say before adding a quick, "Sir."

Arlon chuckles kisses the side of my head before his fingers are at my collar. I expect him to tug the ring and pull me closer, but instead, he unbuckles it and pulls it off, setting it on the edge of the pool. I rub my neck. After so long with it on, it feels like I'm missing something.

Arlon smiles and says, "You've earned your freedom."

He sinks further into the pool, his arm relaxing it's grip a little now that I'm coherent enough to hold myself up. I still stay pressed against him, enjoying the simple comfort of it. Of all the new things the Crux introduced me to, this is one of my favorites. Just being able to enjoy the closeness of another person without having to say a godsdamn thing. We stay like that for a few long minutes, savoring the quiet.

I look down at my body and see the bruises and marks he's left on me. Folks in the towers tend to wear them like a badge of pride, and I've sure got quite the display of medals to show off after this week. My ass throbs in the hot water, along with a few flogging welts that are particularly stubborn.

"Gods, I look like I lost a fight with a hail storm," I mutter.

Arlon chuckles. "I'd apologize for the bruises, but I'm not sorry."

"I'm not, either," I say. I let out a long breath and sink up to my neck. "Thank you... for everything this week. It helped."

Arlon lifts a finger and brushes my wet hair away from my face. "Good," he says. "I stand by what I said at the beginning of the week. I'm certain it's a confidence issue."

I sigh and nod. He's pointed it out enough times this week that it's become obvious. "Don't get discouraged," Arlon says. "Confidence is no easy process, and it is a process. But I know you'll get there. I can build you up, can show you the methods I use to cast, explain a caster headspace until I'm blue in the face, but confidence is something you have to discover on your own."

I trail my fingers over the water. It shimmers under my fingertips, and I can't help but wonder if the magiline does something to it. "How did you find yours?" I ask.

Arlon is quiet as he tries to find an answer. "I don't think I was given much of a choice," he says at last. "Though I'm not sure I'd call it confidence so much as... a reckless kind of ego. It's gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion."

I lean a little more comfortably against his chest as my fingers trace the calluses on his hands. The question has been nagging at me for months, and I finally gather the courage to ask it. "How did you end up here?"

Arlon chuckles ruefully. "Me predecessor Faunette arrested me."

I pull away to get a look at his face, trying to decide if he's being serious. He's grinning, but he sure seems to be. "You're joking."

"I am not," he says and runs a hand through his hair. "I told you, I'm the last person to try and beat the rebellion out of anyone." Well, that throws out most of my theories. He sees my look and chuckles. "I'll tell you the story, but you're observant - what do you think I did before I came to the Crux?"

"I'd thought you might have been a soldier," I admit.

Arlon hums thoughtfully. "Not a bad guess," he says. "I was a brigand."

I gape at him. "Seriously?"

Arlon shrugs. "There's not much place on a tzigaro caravan for a bastard, so when my mother Kalis died, I was forced out. I was young, poor and traveling alone through the Hobokins, which I don't think I need to tell you was a stupid thing to do," he mutters. "A brigand by the name of Vian Wolf and his crew caught up to me on the road. They beat me within an inch of my life, and when they realized I didn't have any money, Vian took me with them."

I can't stop a wince. It's gotten better in recent years, but after a lifetime of traveling on and around the roads in the Hobokins, I learned quick to stay away from the areas the bandit crews case out. I was right about him being tzigaro, and wrong about everything else. "How old were you?"

"Sixteen," he says through a sigh. "I was six feet tall already and strong, so Vian saw an opportunity to add to his crew. He was a cunning son of a bitch, and after a few escape attempts and a few more beatings, he figured out how I ticked. He offered me money, freedom and respect - three things I'd never had, and I latched onto the opportunity like a fish on a hook."

A shadow passes behind his eyes, and he says, "I was under that man's thumb for ten years, and was so misguided that I didn't even realize how far from freedom I was. But then one of our raids went bad. We caught the attention of the Crux, and not long after, Faunette and a few other wizards came to deal with us."