The Magician's Bitch Ch. 04

The fat, gnarled, slightly crooked penis stands upright before me, held in one of the Archaelaus's hands. He releases it and it bounces, wobbles, springing up to jut towards my face. Large and crooked, lumpy and ancient. Fifteen-inches of old man connecting to a potent reproductive system, a larder of two-hundred-and-ninety-three-year-old sperm. The sight has me lick my lips.

'You're a good boy, sonny,' Archaelaus says. He pats my head. 'I think it's about time that you learned to please me in the manner I most prefer.'

I nod. 'O-kay, sir.'

'Take me in hand, sonny,' Archaelaus says. 'Take hold of my penis.'

I reach out to him with both hands, nervous but excited. Excited, despite being so very much aware of how I'd never have dreamt of this before I came her. And that any dream that did contain something like this would surely be a nightmare.

But right now, all I want is to wrap my lips around the old man's member.

My fingers find it hot, firm, rigid. Archaelaus has a lumpy cock, a gnarled old stave that has a slight bend and bulge to it. It pulses, straining against my hands, angrily, needily. I can't help but lick my lips, smelling him. Old-man must, masculine musk, potent headiness. I swallow saliva, tug gently on him, pulling back his foreskin.

'It's...it's so big.'

'All the better, sonny.' Archaelaus tussles my hair. 'I see that glint in your eyes, boyo. There's no need to be shy anymore.'

'Yes, sir...I'll...I won't hesitate.'

My hands continue, and his helmet pops forth. Back roll the folds, the ruby knob atop his wizened staff aglow in the firelight, glazed and gruesomely appetising. A big bulbous lollipop. A lollipop of the dirtiest kind...and it's all for me.

'Can't take your eyes off it. Always, you love seeing it.'

'It's amazing.' I move closer, sniffing, sucking his potent musk into my head. Salty, bitter, old-man agedness. 'So...powerful.'

The word slips out, and I blush. Archaelaus smirks at me. 'Taste me, boy. Taste my penis for the first time.'

There's no going back. No stopping. I lean forwards until the heat of his bell-end warms my lips, until the wetness glazes them, until I'm kissing it. Kissing this thing, this penis-tip, this ancient mage's most sensitive part. I wanted this, I wanted to kiss it. It needs it, it needs worshipping. Smooch, smooch, smooch.

'Such passion,' the old man says. 'You want this like nothing else, boy.'

I run out my tongue, rolling it across the underside of his ruby apple, across his frenulum, the cleft at the base. 'Yeah,' I say, breathily. My lips taste salty, bitter, musty. His glaze is much the same, upon my tongue. 'Schlup. Schlup. Mhm.' I smile, blush. 'Your...it's...'

Archaelaus puts a hand on my head, paternal, commanding. 'Oh, sonny. I know. Show me how good it tastes. Actions are better than words.'

'Mhm. Schlup. Mhm. Schlup. Schlup.'

I'm dirty, I'm vile, I'm such a filthy slut. My tongue goes crazy, tracing out that helmet, at long last here before me, hot beside my face, sloppy against my lips. Lap, lick, lap, lick. So smooth, so bulky, so fat. Neat, perfect, where his shaft is crooked, lumpy, liver-spotted, ancient. God, I'm a natural slut. I want to...want to serve this man, this ancient devilish man.

'So good,' I say, mumbling. 'So tasty. Schlup. Mhm.'

He tussles my hair. 'Good boy. Such a good boy. Humph.'

I marvel at his penis as I grace it with kisses and licks, smooches and flicks of the tongue.

Its tip is so bloated and big, silky and curved, a plump red helmet atop a wizened pole. A glistening trickle of precum oozes down the cleft below it, crossing the fibrous frenulum, glazing the rolls of foreskin. His member trembles, throbs, twitches with need.

'You really do appreciate me,' Archaelaus says. 'You want me so badly, sonny.'

'Mhm. Schlup. Smooch. I do, sir. I...had my doubts, but...I do.'

He smiles mischievously. 'Are you sure? You came here so certain you hated this, hated me. This is quite the change in approach, sonny.'

I blush as I meet his gaze. 'I'm s-ure, sir.'

'Then tell me, boyo, just what it is you want from me.'

His grin, his desire to see me speak such filthy things, is more than enough.

'I want to suck your cock, sir...and I want...I want to taste your semen. I...I want you to ejaculate in my mouth.' I lick my lips, tasting his musty old dick. 'I...want to taste the lineage of this world's most powerful mage.'

'How old are you, sonny?'

'T-wenty.'

Archaelaus nods, grin widening, yellowing teeth on full show. 'I was two-hundred-and-seventy-three when you were born, boy. Doesn't that disgust you?'

'It...it should, but...'

He slides his hand behind my head, offering a gentle guidance. 'Open your mouth, sonny. It'd be my pleasure to feed you my seed.'

I meet his eyes, trembling, a little fearful. But Archaelaus urges me with his hand behind my head, gentle and fatherly. My lips kiss upon his swollen bell-end again, feeling the silky gooey texture, tasting faintly the musty aged salty-bitter tang of his precum.

Then I let him guide me forwards, and part my lips as I go.

God, it's hot. Hot in heat, hot in sexiness. Archaelaus has such a fat dick, with such a huge bloated tip. It strains my lips, with a bit of effort comes to rest heavily on my tongue, where it throbs, and dribbles pre-ejaculate. He tastes good. I like his old-man taste. I hold him steady with both hands, and suck in my cheeks upon his bell-end.

Damn, it feels so right, so natural. 'Mhm. Slurp.' I roll about my tongue, feeling out the broad contours of his ruby mushroom, blushing all the while. His ancient liver-spotted body responds by dispensing more lubricant, more precum musty gooiness. 'Mhm-hm. Slurp. Slurp.'

'Yes, that's it. Ughn.' He watches me, eyes following my movements, my face. Archaelaus strokes the back of my head. 'Feel it out. Experience it. It's a man's penis, boy, my penis.' He snarls, grins. 'Ugh. A penis, in your mouth, young man. A two-hundred-and-ninety-three-year-old penis. Oof.'

The age, the way he speaks thing, and his watchful gaze spur me on. I do as I understand to, sucking, licking inside my mouth, bobbing my head beyond it. 'Mumph. Mumph. Mumph.' His hefty glans glides back and forth, glazing my tastebuds with ancient precum. Salty, bitter, sharp with years. 'Schlup. Mumph. Mhm. Mumph.' I feel out the lumps of his cock, the bulging veins, tease the liver-spots with my fingers. 'Mumph. Mumph. Mumph.'

'Let's make this a little interesting, boyo.'

Archaelaus's eyes glow suddenly, becoming alight with azure magic. A vision manifests, a kind of circle rimmed in that same colour of light, a projection. The inside of a mouth, from the back of the throat looking out across the tongue and towards...towards the very large, very fat glans of a truly monstrous old penis.

I freeze up, and realise what I'm seeing. Holy shit. The sight has me tremble.

Archaelaus pats my head. 'Isn't that better, son? To see what you're doing?'

I run my tongue, gingerly, up the front of his glans. Up the eyelet at the front, where a thin drizzle of precum oozes forth. Archaelaus, above me, makes an O with his snarl mouth. Woah. I can't believe this is happening. Not just that I'm blowing him, but...I'm watching it.

Watching with front row seats.

I suck in my cheeks, start to bob my head. The mammoth penis slides across my tongue, straining, twitching. It yields a drool of his old-man flavour, which causes me to lap at the underside of his dick, which causes Archaelaus to groan.

Back and forth it goes, in line with my head-bobbing. This huge, thickly-crested helmet, its sides brushing my teeth and its front becoming so large that it's all I can see, and then coming back to rest against the front of my mouth, where I can watch my tongue massage it and trace out its contours, and be rewarded with more of his musty precum, is difficult to resist marvelling at.

'Mumph. Mhm.'

'Good boy.' He pats my head again. 'That trick never fails to impress.' The old man smirks. 'I like watching the show myself, from a different angle.'

I pull on his length, tug and masturbate him, bob my head. Something about watching it, about meeting his arcane gaze and grinning old face, makes the whole thing a lot more erotic. And that provokes lust, which spurs me on.

'Mumph. Mhm. Mumph. Schlup.'

'Humph. Oh, yes.'

'Mumph. Mhm. Mumph.'

'That's it, sonny. Make me proud.'

'Mumph. Slurp. Mumph. Mhm.'

Archaelaus sniggers. 'My, you're eager. I've--humph--never had a boy like you before.'

I wonder if I should be offended. Wonder if I should take it as praise. Does it matter?

My head bobs, his turgid cock slides deeper into my mouth and then slips back, and my hands work to massage his gnarled and knobbly pole. It becomes large and then smaller. It spits precum and my response, innate at this point, is to slurp the stuff up.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

'All this time we'd both have preferred this, wouldn't we?' Archaelaus says. 'I appreciate your--humph--hesitancy before, boyo, but...the proof is in the pudding, isn't it? You are, beneath your protests, a cocksucker.'

His words redden my cheeks further, make the sensation of his cock all the more powerful. I meet his eyes, smile around his cock, continue servicing him. Something about that filthy title has me hungrier for him. My efforts are noticeably more passionate, as if dirty talk stirs some sluttiness out of my spirit.

'Mhm. Mumph. Mumph.'

'I had--humph--wondered if it was even possible. Wondered what it would take, in the end.' He winces, groans. 'Something in the--ughn--food, perhaps. A spell of its own.' Archaelaus meets my eyes, smug, dominant. 'You did it all. Ugh. You...you came to desire my semen, of your own accord.' He snarls, pleasure and displeasure at once. 'You're perfect, sonny. I'm ever so glad that demon sold me a fault spell.'

Perfect. A compliment, jilted.

Perfect because, to Archaelaus, I am an outlet for his lust. A depraved youth from another world, who has fallen to my knees for him. Literally. And the realisation reddens my cheeks further, makes my mind race with shameful arousal.

'Mumph. Mumph. Mhm. Mumph.'

His ancient penis fills my mouth like nothing else. The heat of it, the potent flavours, the way his gnarled member strains and throbs, the way its huge proud tip dominates the insides of my mouth. To watch it, that plum-purple prominence, with its big productive eyelet at the fore, as it slides back and forth, back and forth, only adds to the devious excitement and pleasure.

I can't believe I'm doing it. Can't believe it's him. Old and liver-spotted and hairy and venal.

But Archaelaus has woken something in me. Something I didn't know existed.

'Mhm. Mumph. Mumph. Schlup.'

'Such good care you take, sonny,' Archaelaus says, trembling. 'I'm glad you like it, boyo. Glad you like me, despite your--humph--initial misgivings.'

He strokes my hair, running his furry old fingers behind my head. Even something so simple as that gesture elicits a fuzziness in me, a warmth. I...I like him touching me, while I do this degrading and depraved deed.

I slide his helmet to the front of my mouth and nurse on it with lusty passion, taking some grave pleasure in watching that monumental cockhead bask in the lascivious lashes of my eager tongue. Archaelaus produces a heavy rivulet of pre-seed, refreshing the potent salty-bitter-oiliness on my tastebuds.

'Mhm. Slurp.'

I'm jealous, in the weirdest and most convoluted of ways.

I always wanted a blowjob like this, like the blowjob I'm giving the dirty old mage. This is bordering on worship, this sheer mad appreciation for his manhood, for his virility.

But at the same time...I'm happy that I'm doing it. Happy, and weirdly grateful, that I've this chance to perform oral service on this man old enough to be my ancestor. Archaelaus, provoker of such odd and terrible urges in me, has a mightily suckable penis.

There's a wet pop as I break the tightness of my sealed lips, releasing his cock for a moment to kiss it, let it rest heavily upon my lips. 'Misgivings, sir?'

Archaelaus nods. 'Don't think I don't notice it. How you look at me.' I smooch his pearly plum, and the old man shivers. 'I disgust you. An old man, the oldest you've known. Yet here you are, working for a mouthful of my age and lineage.' Archaelaus sniggers. 'Put those fat boobies around my cock, sonny. Keep sucking the head. Won't be long now.'

I do as he says, because I like that, too. I leave his balls alone and take up my big squishy tits, wrapping them around his shaft, provoking a groan from the old mage.

His manhood pulses and throbs, hot and powerful between the valley of my chest. I nervously meet Archaelaus's gaze and blush, dimly aware of just how obedient and dutiful I've become. He looks unbearably smug, and yet it only serves to arouse me. The old mage, with that snarl-smirk, with those yellowing teeth and nose hair bristling, has introduced me to a world of perversions I'd never thought I'd partake of.

'You did disgust me,' I say, eyes running down his body, widening as they reach the base of his erection, 'but...you've taught me about myself, sir.'

He snorts. 'And what did I teach, boyo?'

My gaze reaches the helmet, sandwiched between my breasts. 'That I'm a lot filthier than I ever imagined myself.'

When I start to work my tits, and suck his bell-end back into my mouth, the old man shivers.

His knees, to my sides, noticeably shudder. The fat glans on my tongue, trapped by my lips and the sucked-in tautness of my cheeks, trembles. I swallow, pre-emptive, knowing intimately how the male body works.

'Mhm. Mumph. Mumph. Schlup.'

'Humph. It's not as if it's even--ugh--a special one,' he says, gritting his teeth. Knees widen, widen, shudder. His glans, upon my tongue, seems to swell a little more. 'As if I'd give you the magic, as if you'd know it. You're getting sperm, sonny. All you're getting is my sperm.' Archaelaus smirks. 'But you want that, don't you?'

I'm salivating even more. God, I'm disgusting.

'Mumph. Mhm. Mumph. Mumph.'

'It's--humph--it's not for you, young man. It's intended for wombs, you know? Ughn.' He wets his lips, winces. 'It's found many. Produced countless children. Oof. It's for making a legacy...not for young men's mouths.' The old mage's fingers flex out, retract. 'You don't--ughn--don't even want to swallow it, as such, you filthy bitch. You want to taste it, to taste the most powerful magician in the world.

'You wonder...wonder what it's like,' Archaelaus says. 'Two-hundred-and-ninety-three-years-old, I am. The greatest magician. Ughn. What...what does that do to a man's semen?'

A shiver runs down him, ceases the flow of his precum, causes his legs to flex out below the knee, to widen his gait and send a tremor through his thighs. His glans throbs, becomes thicker and fatter than ever, straining my lips. Archaelaus tussles my hair, and I shiver.

Every word he says is true.

He grimaces. 'F-latten your t-ongue, sonny. You're about to--humph--find out.'

It's all led to this. Good or bad, right or wrong. I bring his glans to the front of my mouth and slip my tongue beneath it. Archaelaus's eyes are hazy with magic, but I'm sure he's looking at me, and I am certainly staring up at the ancient man's face.

The slit on the head of his penis trembles, a shot of something bursting forth. Thick and off-white it erupts, a magnificently potent thickness, opaque with sperm. When it lands on the tongue in the vision, it lands on my tongue in my mouth, and Archaelaus smiles with strange, lusty calmness.

My tongue is heavy with it, coated in such thickness. It's hot, alien, weighty. A second spurt comes, larger than the first, making the base of my mouth, the inset of my tongue, a thick pool of his semen.

'Good boy,' the old mage says. 'You've earned it. Earned this--humph--right.'

More comes, a third spurt, leaking over my teeth, parted to accommodate his largeness between my lips. Off-white semen drools from the swollen glans, adding a dribble to a tablespoon of cum. Something shifts, revealing an endless number of plump sperm swimming about like tadpoles, clogging every millimetre of the thick whiteness. 'Look at them all. Look at the seed I've shot so far, in just this first mouthful.'

I move my mouth, and the mouth moves. It's salty, in the kind of faint sense, an edge of saltiness. There's a slight bitterness, but more prominent is an aged mustiness, a hallmark of anything that has weathered years, as fresh as this load should be. I move my tongue, my tongue moves, making little impact on the engulfing pool of off-white. 'Mhm.'

Creaminess, a rich creaminess. Tanginess, seemingly related to the agedness. Something about it is vaguely pungent, like mustard. Only on the edges, only faint, but noticeable. Mostly it tastes ancient, powerful, creamy. Archaelaus' semen, his sperm. It's undeniable, inescapable, what I'm doing, what I'm experiencing. I'm on my knees between his legs, receiving his essence, his legacy, his lineage.

'The sooner you swallow, the sooner you get more. There's a lot to go, as you know by now, sonny.'

I meet his eyes and chew on it, swirling around what he's given me. My eyes are wet and wide, with fear and worry, with excitement, hesitation. It's clear, by the movements of my mouth, the movements of my tongue, that my body matches with my head: this is the hottest thing I've ever done, the most naturally submissive thing I've ever done, the most perverted thing I've ever done. It's grotesque, it's shameful, but...God, it feels right to be doing this.

There are lumps, knots, ropes, and every time I bite through one, chew on one, tangle one about my tongue, writhing as it is in a pool of the ancient mage's semen, I shiver. My second picture, the blue-rimmed vision, tells me that those are where his sperm are thickest, so congealed that they become tangled, chewy. God, it's all so ropey, so chewy. I'm chewing through two-hundred-and-ninety-three-year-old semen, Archaelaus's lineage. He's so gruesome and yet something about it is so...this is so...

'You're savouring me, boy,' Archaelaus says. 'Savouring my seed.' He wets his lips. 'Look at them all. Ugh. Look at how much of me you're tasting.'

'Mhm-hm.'

'That's it boy. Accept it. Receive it. Humph.'

So creamy, so rich, so warm, so heavy. It's repulsive to think it, but I could taste this for hours. There are better flavours, better textures by far, but something about it feels so fulfilling. That same sensation of having his genes squirted on my face, only more intimate, more profound. A filthy, rotten, poison-minded eroticism, a slave-lust, but I've never experienced anything like it before. I want to feel him unload again, to have that fresh sensation of being dirtied, tongue splattered, mouth filled.

I shut my eyes and the swallow comes, the churn of all that off-white drawn down by muscular contractions, all those billions of sperm shifting in the current of my motion.

Archaelaus's semen, the first gulp of the first mouthful, slides into my stomach, admixed with saliva, and sinks into the acid. The death, of what would be life. I'm digesting, now, digesting the old mage's reproductive produce. Swallow, swallow, swallow. It takes three goes to empty my mouth. The "camera" returns just as I flatten my tongue again, ready for more.

'Humph.' His glans produces, spits a fat creamy rope, a shotgun splatter of man-milk. 'Seconds, sonny.' He groans, loading my mouth further, baptising my tongue in his ancient swimmers. Three shots, four, widening my eyes as my tongue vanishes and my teeth disappear entirely beneath the off-white lake and its host of billions. 'Humph.' He tussles my hair. 'So dutiful. Such a fine cocksucker.'

'Mhm.' I roll around the thick semen, gruesomely delicious old-man nut-butter. It's definitely buttery, possessing that kind same of heaviness. Hot, fresh from his loins. Liver-spots, nose-hair, ear-hair, a crooked nose. He tastes like this, Archaelaus tastes like this. 'Mhm.'