The Alchemist's Apprentice Pt. 02

His wail of humiliation filled the room. Once visible and with the smell of it in the air, he could no longer contain himself and sobbed into the pillow. He felt her rub his buttocks again and heard a wet smack as she dropped the thing into a bucket.

"Aughh, aughh, aughhh," he sobbed.

"That wasn't so bad," she soothed.

He shook his head--it wasn't! Was it? It didn't feel like it should have been 'so' bad--but he couldn't stop sobbing. Her rubbing felt wonderful--but it still drew more and harder tears.

"Okay--beads," she told him. "These are large enough that they'll hurt a little going in. Just try to breathe. When you feel one at your anus, bear down like you're trying to poo, and it'll make it easier."

One. He couldn't bring himself to push as she'd said--what if there were a sound--or smell--or Sattva help him, a mess!?

The smooth shape felt huge against him and in his anal cleft. When she pushed it, he inhaled sharply, and felt his sphincter open around it. Oh! Oh! OHHH! She gave it a firm push, and it went in. He felt a dull fullness and ache. His anus felt slightly stretched by its passage, the pain subsiding as it entered and replaced with an urgency.

He grit his teeth, determined to be brave.

Two. He felt the next one, right behind the first. He squeezed his eyes shut and took quivering breaths. She was relentless in the inserting of it. He gasped and sobbed and again, his sphincter stretched and stretched and--OH! Past its crest, it sank into him, joining the other.

Now he felt overly full--bloated--constipated.

On Three, he gave a cry. This one felt bigger, and he squirmed and kicked his feet up and down. Rather than reprimanding him for this, she petted him, speaking soothingly. There were only two more to go.

The intense feelings of fullness were not without an element of pleasure. He could feel the beads inside, a hard to describe sense of solidity and weight. He could feel them move past a second, narrowing inside his bowels. A gasp and the fourth was in. Again, a larger one! The fifth!

He was prepared for the pain of being stretched to overwhelm him, but it didn't--he gasped and moaned and it went in. The intense urgency he felt was on the verge of "punishing" but he was more overwhelmed with the fear of spending his orgasm.

A pat on his buttocks.

"Okay, Kit, let me help you up."

He stood, bowlegged, a rubbery hose connected to the beads hanging out from between his buttocks. She got him up, his erection a humiliating visible sign of his body's response to the punishment.

She took his arm and walked him, he took small steps, his hand back by his buttocks, the red rubber tube of the beads hanging down. On the table she led him to, was a large glass bottle with a pink, hairless, half-formed thing that looked like an elephant crossed with a man, curled in on itself, suspended in a fluid.

He stared at it, mildly repulsed.

"It's a kind of homunculus," she told him. "Clay shaped by a morphic field and chemicals added in an alchemical bath--to prime it for sentience ignition."

She guided his cock into a glass tube that spiraled down into the jar's fluid. She gave his bare bottom a slap!

"Ow!" he mouthed. He looked over his shoulder and she grinned. "We're going to address your two punishment marks now, Kit-slave!" She rubbed the area she's smacked.

"I'm going to pull our beads out--one at a time, a bit slowly," she said. "The better you resist spending, the easier it'll be on you. I have confidence you can hold your cock for the first two--I'm less sure about the last three."

"Unnhh--y-yes, mistress," he gasped out.

"And next time the girls take you to go potty, you're going to be a good, submissive little judicial slave for them, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," he squeaked. His face burning.

"Grip the table edge, Kit, and hold on."

She gripped the pull ring at the end of the anal bead's rubber tube and gave it a pull--pressure! Oh! And then POP! He gasped, clenching his buttocks. His cock erupted with spend, the fluid pumping--ropes of it--into the glass tube and spiral.

He cried out in the humiliation of being unable to restrain his spend. The shame was an awful thing--and the sensation of release left him feeling shaken--and robbed His cock wanted attention! Not his anus!

Trapped in the tube, he couldn't--POP!

She pulled the next one, and a second eruption, bigger than the first, pumped out of him. He felt a terrible, horrible sexual urgency! He had to masturbate--to get sensation on his pleading cock. His hands fluttered on the table--POP!

A shrill scream. He didn't care where--or who! He would take a cock in his anus--or mouth! Burying his penis in a stinging, fluid Muck would be wonderful right now. POP!

His knees gave out. He had never had orgasms with no refractory period like this--and the explosive spends came without any attention or sensation on his penis. He leaned over the table, moaning weakly.

Smack! She gave him a sharp spank. "You couldn't even hold one, Kit!" she scolded him. "Am I going to have to secure you?" He groaned. His cock was still throbbingly hard. But he still NEEDED release! He was having a hard time standing.

POP! The last one exploded out and his cock again pumped into the glass tube. She caught him as he sank to his knees, his cock coming out of the tube, still leaking his spend.

As he lay against Miss Tessa, weak and quivering, his cock, turgid and too sensitive to touch, but still unsatisfied, its urgency wailing in his mind, he saw the form in the tank, surrounded by bubbles in the fluid, now eject its own pink tentacles, the multiple arms writhing and flexing, reaching and feeling along the glass confines.

Its face--grotesque and elephantine, turned to look at the two of them.

Kit lay weakly in Miss Tessa's arms and he heard the ancubus say, "that's not a common spirt. You've captured and bound something old!" The homunculus was pulling itself up out of the glass beaker it was held in, its tentacles flexing and extending and slithering over the rim.

Kit felt Miss Tessa take the time to gently lay him to the side. He was still utterly spent from his multiple, impossible orgasms. He could barely lift his head as he saw the lump of pink fleshy clay rise above him on the table like a giant, flexible limbed spider.

"COGNOSCO te ipsum!" He heard Miss Tessa's snapped command and felt a whip-crack of warm air above him.

The homunculus made a strangled sound--the words formed--but not those produced by any human mouth. "Identity: I am a handmaiden of Adicia," it thundered in the voice of an imperious woman. One of its newly spawned fleshy tendrils licked down and stroked across Kit's cock, wrapping at the base. He moaned and lay petrified as it fondled him.

"This pathetic male has a suitable void to hold my essence," the thing thundered. "But I require a female form to fully establish my dominion." Its tentacle licked along the underside of his cock, and he moaned. "Where is my audience, whelp?" It demanded of Ms. Tessa. "This intermediate vessel is an insult to my mistress!"

It rose up, multiple tendrils falling on Kit. He lay, not daring to move.

"Open your legs, Kit," Ms. Tessa breathed, wriggling out from under him. "I don't think you have much to fear of it--"

Ms. Tessa stood, and he felt a tendril slither into his anus. He was achingly tender from having spent in ruins. He bowed his legs open and the thing pet him, approvingly.

"Mistress Handmaiden," said Ms. Tessa, quickly, "We did not know the boy would be unsuitable--this intermediate form you are in will help us bring you to a more suitable host--"

"Very good, whelp," the thing sounded only mildly mollified. "I may accept mere moons of your moans and pleading rather than years."

Kit grunted as he felt the tentacle creep deeper into him. It was smaller than a cock, thankfully--but much longer and he arched his back as faint uncomfortable stirrings flittered within him.

"You wish--" Ms. Tessa had moved hastily to a table and was quickly gathering reagents, "a suitable female--and--an audience?"

"A female whose essence is marked with misdeeds--a criminal girl-- and a stadium of the enthralled for my mistress to draw from--and you shall furnish four such girls for myself and my three sisters. The punishment of the subjects and the approval of the crowd will be orchestrated--you understand, whelp?"

Kit's legs fell to either side and it had lifted his buttocks.

"This one is almost a girl--tender enough that I would claim him--"

It stroked his scrotum--his thighs. The tentacle pulsed in his anus. Another tendril wrapped around his turgid cock. He gave a murmuring moan somewhere between fear and sexual pleasure. "His frustration and his tears are sweet," it conceded. "I may only punish you at the edge of your endurance for days for the indignity of this body!"

One of its many pink sucker-coated arms licked at his cheek, wiping a tear. He whimpered.

"I'm glad you like him," Ms. Tessa said, striding forward with a beaker of fluid. "But we like him too--and you can't have him."

The thing lashed out at her, fast as a snake striking--but it had barely flickered in movement when it dropped like a Marionette with its strings cut. She had doused it with the chemical in her beaker and itt lay hissing and steaming.

She gave a cough in the billowing fog coming off it and walked quickly to where Kit lay. "Almi!" she yelled, summoning the girl from outside. "Get him to the pallet and let him rest. Don't approach the experiment--" she pointed and the slowly melting homunculus. "I am going to fetch the dean. We have a problem set to boil over!"

THE IDEXIUM COLLEGE - UPPER CONCLAVE - MS. KLEINI

Kleini Desarie knelt on a cushion in the circular chamber of the upper conclave. It was a building in the Indexium, which meant delegates from the Girl's College got cushions instead of chairs and could only speak when recognized by a scurrying female attendant who would rush over with a flag to stand by the female allowed to talk.

Even more annoying was the half-smock apron she wore--and nothing else. From the front, she was covered from neck to ankles. From the rear, save for the ties around her waist and neck, she was naked. It was a humiliation meant to humble and while she found it unnecessary and unpleasant, she didn't have much of a problem with it.

After all, having a Girl's College at all was seen by many as a black-eye for the University. Steps had been taken to ensure that every level of the Girl's College was made to understand they were submissive to the main University to the point where no males had taken staffing positions in it save for the Dean of Instructresses who was responsible for the top-level discipline of faculty.

However, her being called here was unexpected.

"You may be asked to speak," said Ms. Evalias Markwell, the head of the Alchemy Department. "Do your best, don't look the chairman in the eye."

"Yes, ma'am," Ms. Kleini nodded, as she fastened the half-smock around her bare body. "Do you know what I may be asked to speak on?"

"Bindings of ancient spirits," said Miss Evalias. "Especially 'Mythological' enchantments in an alchemical context."

"And I've got to do it from memory?" Ms. Kleini asked, rhetorically. They were in a handsome wood-paneled with soft benches on one side and a closet with half-smocks hung in the other. A large oil painting showed captive Amazons kneeling before ancient warriors, each muscled naked woman wearing a horse-like harness and a horsehair "tail" inserted into her anus on a plug. Ms. Kleini didn't think the 'Taming of the Amazons' was a random pick for the girl's entry chamber.

"It's an emergency consultation," Ms. Evalias said. "That's all I know."

"Who can call a meeting in the high convocation chamber as a consultation!??" Ms. Kleini asked. That meant commandeering the entire Indexium staff from the top down several levels.

"I'll be there with you," the older woman said. She was already wearing her smock and while she was mature, Ms. Kleini could see her body kept its vigor and form.

A bell tinkled.

"We're summoned," Ms. Evalias said. They followed out into the round chamber.

The girls were all formed along one arc of the room and they kneeled. Ms. Kleini and Ms. Evalias were in the first row. They waited with hands in their laps, holding still (it wouldn't do to be seen to squirm, scratch, or touch one's hair).

At the sound of a tone, the servant girls, who wore mutes over their mouths and head-scarves, scurried to take the orders the tone indicated.

In this case, it was, humiliatingly, the placement of a metal bedpan under each of the kneeling girl's bottoms. Ms. Kleini risked a sideways look at her department head--but other than a faint blush, the woman didn't register a reaction. In the next moments, Ms. Kleini knew why they had done it.

The senior order Hierophant was a tall man. Older, but still looking hale. Bald of all hair everywhere (she had heard--but his head was certainly hairless), he wore white robes with colored trims in soft pastels. He wore a golden torc at his neck, and it seemed to hum like a tuning fork but the sound was almost impossible to place or detect.

The Senior Hierophant was charged with facilitating communication between the order and the Ear and Mouth of Sattva itself. Steeped in the presence of the great force that imposed its rules on the universe itself, he was "stained" by it. It took years to allow a human to be able to move in and out of the Balance-God's notice without them crumbling emotionally.

Now, that stain was a physical force. Ms. Kleini blushed fiercely and lowered her gaze with feelings of intense shame and miserable bolts of inadequacy and humiliation. Judgment came off him in waves, and the voices of self-recrimination in her mind surged, chastising her.

The bedpans had been placed beneath each of the girls should they lose control of their bladders in his presence. As far as the order was concerned girls were almost incontinent anyway.

She didn't pee (and so far as she could tell, no one did) but it took her long moments of fighting to get her breath under control. She felt a tremor in her body.

A gavel was struck, and seats were taken by the men (who had chairs). A young man stood before the lecturn and spoke the words to call the meeting to order. It was a shortened form of the litany that could be used in this august chamber. This meant it was all business.

"Our honored visitor has tidings that have come to him concerning the presence of numinous spirits embedded within our realm that have opened gimlet eyes and spied crevices and weaknesses within the walls of our order."

"The University's Alchemical staff has been asked about the binding of these sprits to the physical objects of small idols and how those idols can be manipulated to call upon and control the spirits."

"We are here to discuss how the binding of these spirits might be understood and accounted for--and, if possible, released from the bindings such that they can be returned to slumber."

First the men spoke--they had much to say before the senior Hierophant (and a great deal about their own breakthroughs in related realms). Ms. Kleini could see the man watched the speakers keenly and made quick notes on a slate and parchment. He asked almost no questions--but when he spoke she could feel a gripping tension in her gut.

Some of the men also winced visibly, or shuddered or squirmed. She wondered how many of them had shame-driven erections. There was also a sexual, magnetic attraction to the man--not the man, exactly--but to the stain--to the power--an attraction to being conquered by it.

For girls the appeal of the masculine power was obvious--but she guessed a goodly number had their natural inclinations bent to its radiance.

She wasn't looking forward to speaking before him--and she was extremely glad the lectern and the half-smock would give her at least a layer of modesty.

"Ms. Kleini of the spiritual alchemical department. You are directed to the lecturn to address any questions for your section."

She felt a warm pat on her bare bottom from Miss Evalias, and she stood (thankfully she was able to do it elegantly, stumbling before the senior Hierophant would be awful!) and she hurried up to the lectern and stepped onto the podium they had placed for her as she was shorter than the men).

"Honored guest," she said, glad she could keep her voice strong and clear--just pretend you're lecturing to second years!--"You have heard my betters speak more elegantly on this than I might. If a mere girl can answer questions on her area of some manner of expertise and study, I submit myself before you."

That was probably groveling enough, she thought. Her face blushed, and she was annoyingly certain many of the men found her fetching for it. The servants behind her might see an unpleasant and humiliating slick on her inner thighs.

She worked to calm her breathing. The smock was thick enough that her erect nipples wouldn't show, but the chaffed unpleasantly against it.

The Hierophant sat forward.

"Instructress Kleini," he said, his voice low and pleasant--not harsh or loud. Her sex clenched powerfully despite this. She gripped the edges of the lecturn. "I understand you have been working in the domain of binding spirits of low order and intent to base matter or biological hosts?"

She felt heat on her face--Sattva! This was worse than she'd expected!

"Y-yes, master Hierophant," she said.

"Senior Hierophant, is acceptable," he said, mildly. Around her, the men chuckled! She'd used the wrong term of address!! Ohh! She nearly lost her breath. Shit. Fuck! She blinked rapidly. She had to get through this!

"S-senior Hierophant," she corrected herself. She was strongly inclined to issue a long, groveling apology which would further annoy the crowd and the Hierophant. She clamped down on the urge as hard as she could. She'd submit herself for discipline later, she thought. "I have been studying it, yes. An advanced method of alteration of a subject is to bind a simple spirit to them such to alter their morphic field--"

Oh, shit. She was babbling. She took a deep breath. The Senior Hierophant nodded approvingly. He seemed quite patient. Unbidden, a vision of him Taking her forcefully flooded her mind. In her vision it was done without regard for her and both hurt and violated her most private places--but ohhh--the fantasy would be a potent masturbatory one!

If someone had called her on her tongue-tiedness she might've collapsed there, but the Senior Hierophant held up a hand for silence, and a question.

"Sir?" she asked.

"You have bound both basic spirits--the spirts laying latent in elements and objects--as well as simple spirits from living material such as tissue or soups--to subjects, yes?"

"Yes, Senior Hierophant."

He nodded.

"My Artisans believe that the alchemical processes for doing this with ancient spirits--such as those from mythology--have been lost on the main. They have little experience with these spirits. Can you speculate on what the differences might be?"

"It is difficult to say," she said. Now, though, her mind was working. She was rushing through her catalog of experience and sought to determine what she knew.

"The spirits of antiquity were more active and self-directed than most anima we work with today. The spirit of Iron is strong and taciturn--but the spirit of orichalcum was said to compose poetry, to sing in human voices, to seek its own destiny could it be reified by the ancient alchemists."

"I would propose that the most effective binding of an ancient spirit to base matter would require an exotic base matter to have its spirit extracted to create a spiritual void in which to anchor a more potent spirit."