The Sword and the Soul Ch. 02

"It's nice," he said. "Peaceful."

He caught her looking at him, her head tilted to one side, as if expecting more.

"Sorry," he offered. "I'm not much for fine words."

Say the stonework isn't half as enchanting as her eyes.

It was a ridiculous thing to say, not the type of line Mag would usually throw out, but he had to admit that Marilla's soft blue eyes were glimmering fetchingly in the moonlight. He figured Norn probably knew best about these things.

"You know, this stonework ain't half as enchanting as your eyes, My Lady."

She leaned in closer, smiling sweetly at the compliment. "I told you to call me Marilla, Master Vagabond."

"I'm no master," he said in a low voice. "Just Mag."

She wore a soft and subtle perfume, an airy floral scent. But his senses picked up the smell of her beneath it: her ripe flesh, her crisp hair, and something else besides, a musky and warm smell.

It's arousal, my Soul Warrior. Your senses are enhanced through our bond. That smell is her sex, wet for you.

And then he caught a whiff of something else, something familiar and strange at the same time. It was like exotic spice, acrid and bitter, a smell he'd noticed the day before in Norn's cavern.

The scent of magic. There is nothing quite so intoxicating.

Mag could hear Marilla's heartbeat quicken. She placed her hand on his knee and scooted a bit closer, angling her slim neck up at him, her eyes gleaming a challenge at him, her lips set firm. Mag grabbed her by the shoulder and bent his face to hers, claiming her lips in a rough kiss. She kissed him back just as fiercely, pushing her tongue into his mouth, biting his lower lip gently, surprising him with her intensity.

He gathered a handful of her braided chestnut hair and pulled it firmly, drawing her head back to expose her pale throat. Leaning down, Mag planted wet kisses along her cheek, stopping to suckle her earlobe before moving lower to her neck, then finding her collarbone which he bit playfully, making her gasp.

Marilla pushed him away and scooted back a space, her hands going to the laces of her bodice. Her fingers were a blur, and soon enough the ties hung undone. The lady shrugged the dress from her shoulders and it slid down, revealing a set of remarkably large and firm breasts.

Magnificent. I didn't expect them to be so huge. Tell me, Mag, do you like them better than mine? Mine are smaller, of course, but a mouthful is all one needs, or so they say.

Ignoring the lecherous witch, Mag dove in, grabbing Marilla by the hips and dragging his tongue between her tits. She jumped a bit, her flesh sensitive, but Mag was relentless. He kissed along the side of her left breast, stopping before her reached her light brown nipple. With the point of his tongue he circled it, making her quiver and moan with need, until at last he captured it. Marilla bucked in his grasp, but he held her firm, sucking delicately.

"Oh, gods above," the lady whispered. "It's been a while for me, Mag, but you needn't be gentle."

That means bite it, darling. This one likes it a rough.

Mag did as he was bidden and capture the hardening nipple between his teeth, biting down, torn between his desire to ravish her and not wanting to hurt her. But she urged him on, grabbing his head and holding him there, mewling softly as he bit harder. When he pulled back the tip was quite erect, and had gone from light brown to rosy red.

Before he could give her other breast the same treatment, Marilla pulled him back up to kiss him again desperately. In the meantime Mag raised the hem of her skirt up over one knee and caressed the exposed flesh with his hand, exploring ever higher along her leg until his fingers were under her dress and dancing along the inside of her thigh. He could feel the warmth radiating from her sex, and she moaned into his mouth. Marilla shifted in place, spreading her legs a bit, inviting him to touch her.

Mag cupped her womanhood, finding it hot and damp. He ran his longest finger along her slit, parting her folds just a bit, and brushed her hooded pearl with his thumb. She gasped, breaking their kiss, and met his gaze, her eyes hazy with arousal. Mag used his middle finger to penetrate her gently, finding her tight yet pliant, and kept going until most of the digit was within the lady. He curved it upward a bit, stroking the roof of her sex, which made her quiver.

We should taste her. You want to, don't you? Tell her. Ask her if she wants your tongue inside her. Say you want to lick her cunt.

"I'd like to lick your cunt, My Lady," said Mag in a low, gruff voice. "That alright with you?"

"Gods, yes," hissed Marilla. "Do you know how long it's been since someone did that for me?"

He grabbed her by the waist and shifted her so he could kneel between her lewdly splayed legs, her skirt hiked up and bunch about her waist to display her drenched flower, blooming with arousal. His nostrils were full of her scent, and Mag was tempted to dive right in.

No. We must work on your technique, Mag, for there is a fine art to this. Start slow. Kiss her thighs. Bite them a bit. Blow on her.

The bit of the witch's Soul inside Mag was blazing with heat and his cock was so hard he thought he might split his trousers, but he forced himself to go slow, obeying Norn's instructions. He teased Marilla's thighs, licking and biting along the ridges between her legs and her sex. He buried his nose in the trimmed thatch of light brown hair above her womanhood, inhaling her musky scent. He even blew on her sex a bit, even though he felt kind of stupid doing it, but she shuddered and twitched so he figured it must be working. Before long her womanhood was pulsing visibly before his eyes.

Now. Lick her slowly, from bottom to top and back again.

He started below her slit and made a slow trail, wetting her already-soaking lips even further and tasting the clear fluid leaking from her. He reached the top, where her pearl hid beneath its hood of flesh, but he left it alone for now, figuring Norn would tell him when it was time to attack it. Instead he retraced his path lazily, till he reached the smooth flesh below her womanhood once more.

Swirl your tongue around her opening and screw it in deeper, slowly, until you're fucking her with it.

Mag grasped her thighs with both hands and used them to pry her apart even further, opening her to his ministrations. He made languorous circles around the entrance of her sex, feeling Marilla shudder around him. Slowly he worked his tongue in deeper, the taste of her becoming richer the further he went. Marilla's breathing had become labored now, and she shivered erratically.

Gods, her flavor is divine. More potent than the finest Sworzan wine. Feel how tightly wound she is, Mag, how close to tipping into the abyss. Let's push her over. You know how to find her jewel, don't you?

He withdrew his tongue and moved to the top of her sex, where her pearl was engorged now and peeking from beneath its hiding place. Mag ran the flat of his tongue over it, just a soft brush at first, but that was enough to make the lady buck wildly in his arms, groaning through clenched teeth.

"Fucking gods," she hissed. "Keep doing that."

Your heard the lady. And put a finger inside her while you're at it.

She was quite soaked now, and Mag judged she was ready for two fingers, not just one, so he eased his pointer in as well this time, curling them both up. At the same time he flicked his tongue harder against her pearl, up and down, back and forth, finding the rhythm that made Marilla quiver like a plucked bowstring around him.

"I'm going to come," she hissed. "Oh fuck. Oh gods. Oh fuck."

And then she did, clamping her thighs like a vice around his head, grabbing his hair with both hands and pressing him forward, damn near smothering him with her cunt. She quavered and shook, desperately trying to keep her voice down but failing to prevent strained squeals from escaping. Mag kept licking her and stroking with his fingers as best he could, crushed though he was by her flesh, and he kept her quaking and clenching through her thunderous peak while he struggled for breath.

"Enough," she whispered at last. "Enough, I can't take any more."

Mag relented, and she released him, melting like liquid onto the stone bench, her naked breasts rising and falling with each heaving breath. For a long moment she was silent, and just stared into his eyes while she caught her breath and he wiped her juiced from his lips.

"Gods, you're an artist at that," she said.

Thank you. I know.

"Come here," said Marilla. "Let me repay the favor."

Impatiently, Mag leapt to his feet, only too happy to oblige. He'd been hard as steel since they'd first started kissing, not to mention the fact that his cock hadn't really gone down since Norn's passionate riding of him earlier, which ended in her release but not his. As Marilla unbuckled his trousers and swordbelt, he wondered with a hint of panic whether she would be able to taste the witch on him or not.

She's too wound up to care. Look at her, the greedy slattern. She's starving for your cock.

Mag wasn't sure he'd have used such language himself, not with a courtly lady, but he had to admit Marilla was going to her task with vigor. She'd freed his rampant manhood with some difficulty, yanking his breeches down to his knees, his scabbard clattering to the stone. Marilla wound her calloused fingers around the base of his shaft and gazed at it with awe. His tool was throbbing with blood, the head fantastically engorged, near purple in color.

"My, my," breathed Marilla, meeting his eyes with a sultry glare. "I dared not hope you'd be this impressive, Master Vagabond."

She's right. Look how big we are, Mag. Do you know, I think you've grown bigger. This is another benefit to being a Soul Warrior.

He had to admit, the witch was right. He was stunned at how large he'd gotten, and he wondered at how Marilla would get her lips around him. But the lady went at it gamely, first licking the underside from his balls up to the tip, where she teased his crown a bit. Then she continued bathing him in her saliva until the sides and top were glistening as well. Ever so gently she stroked his cock with her right hand while she cupped and squeezed his balls with her left, and when this coaxed a bit of fluid from the slit of his cock she eagerly lapped it up. Meeting his gaze, Marilla opened her mouth as wide as it would go and slowly swallowed him, just the tip at first. But with a few bobs of her head she was able to accommodate the entire head and then some, and she caressed the underside of his cock with her tongue as she held him there.

Mag had taken the lady by her bare shoulders and, with clenched teeth, was resisting the urge to thrust deeper into her cozy mouth. The pressure in his balls was maddening, the heat from Norn's Soul in his guts near unbearable. He could feel the magic radiating from him, the spicy scent of it heavy in the air.

Marilla pulled back from him, flexing her jaw sorely as she continued to stroke him.

"Sorry that I can't do more than that," she muttered. "Seems I need more practice. Why don't you just fuck me instead?"

You should oblige the lady. Look how engorged with Soul we are, so primed for release. Let's give it to her, shall we?

"What are you waiting for?" asked Marilla, and she gave his cock a squeeze. "I get so few opportunities to do this. Let's not waste it."

But the heady odor of magic had cut through the fog of lust clouding Mag's mind, and a troubling thought had occurred to him. He wondered now if Marilla truly wanted him, or if Norn had woven a spell of lust over her, as she'd done to him the day before in her cavern.

Oh come now, Mag, she's pleading with you. She's wanted you since the moment you met. Perhaps I tipped the scales a bit. Is that so wrong?

He had a sneaking suspicion, of a sudden, that all was not as it seemed. Even as the flushed and randy woman with her breasts and cunt bared to him begged him to fuck her, Mag wondered if the witch inside him had some sinister plan for Marilla.

Me? Weaving dark designs? Surely you don't suspect me of such malice. Oh, dear, sweet Mag, I can tell you're apprehensive. Why don't you let me take over for a while?

A strange and unsettling sensation came over him then. He felt the core of bright Soul inside him expand and grow, swelling to fill his chest, and from there along his limbs into his hands and feet, and then, last of all, up into his head, swallowing his very mind. Mag felt himself losing control, receding until he became a passenger in his own body.

Norn was in control now.

He felt himself smirk as his hand took hold of his cock, giving it an experimental squeeze. Pleasing sensations pulsed through him, and he felt every bit of it, though the motions weren't his own. Mag tried to lash out, to struggle somehow against this unwelcome revolt the witch had performed on his body, but it was like he was sunken into himself, floundering in sticky mud, and he could only watch what happened next, feeling it yet taking no part.

"Gods, I'm so hard," said his voice. "I'd forgotten what this was like. Isn't it fabulous?"

"What?" asked Marilla, her brow creasing in confusion. "You forgot your own manhood?"

"Nevermind," said his voice. "You're right, My Lady. I should certainly fuck you. How would you like it? Shall I take you from behind?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Marilla, grinning up at him.

The Lady of Seleca swung one leg over the bench so that she straddled it and lay along it lengthwise. She scooted to one end so that her shapely arse hung over the side and gathered her skirt around her hips, exposing herself fully to him. Her pink sex was splayed open and wetness gleamed on her thighs. His body moved into position behind and above her, hunkering down and bracing itself on the bench, his cock resting between the soft globes of her ass.

"Tell me how much you want it," said Norn, with his voice.

"Desperately," hissed Marilla. "Give it to me. Fuck me hard. "

"As you command, My Lady."

Norn shifted his body back a bit, slotting the head of his cock against the entrance to her sopping cunt, coating it with her juices. Then the witch drove forward in a smooth, sensual motion, sinking into Marilla's soft and tender depths. The lady sighed as she was skewered, so worked up from coming earlier that her sex presented hardly any resistance at all. Norn had soon managed to thrust his entire length into the lady below them, who cooed and pushed her pert arse back against his hips.

Mag knew he should probably feel awful about his body being controlled against his will, but despite all that his cock felt fantastic, sunk as it was into Marilla. Her sex was amazingly snug and hot around him, quivering splendidly, and Mag felt all reservations slipping away. He wanted to fuck Marilla just as badly as Norn did.

"You cunt is divine," said Mag's voice. "Truly worthy of a future Duchess. It's absolutely spoiled on foppish lordlings and oafish guardsmen. You'd do so much better to give yourself to me, My Lady. Together we could create such stupendous Arts."

If Marilla thought these words strange, she didn't say. The lady only writhed and moaned beneath them, clutching at Mag's cock with her tight sex, squeezing her heat around him. Evidently she was too overcome with bliss to care, no doubt aided by Norn's magic. The witch pulled back, nearly withdrawing Mag's cock entirely, only to drive it back home again, this time going a bit deeper than before, making Marilla jump.

"I can tell you like it hard. I could stop now, roll you over and make tender love to you. But you don't want that, do you?"

"No," wailed Marilla.

"I thought not."

Norn sat up a bit, bracing herself as she drew back, and slammed into Marilla again. The lady squealed as the witch set a brutal pace, making Marilla's shapely ass shake and quiver each time their hips slapped together. Mag's cock was on fire, balls boiling, desperate for release. Marilla's sex was quivering erratically around him, coaxing him toward his peak. Having no control was maddening, as he could only depend on Norn's actions for his pleasure, which were admittedly doing a fine job pushing him towards and explosive climax.

"Are you going to come again, My Lady?"

A desperate moan muffled by the stone was her only reply.

"Do it. And when you do, I shall come inside you. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes," she hissed, half turning her head to give him a crazed look, her face glowing with sweat and need. They locked eyes, the lady's mouth hanging open. Norn gave a three more savage thrusts and then Marilla tensed up, biting her lip, eyes rolling back in her head, a magnificent climax coursing through her.

Norn drove forward one final time, pressing Mag's enflamed cock deeply against the mouth of Marilla's womb, and then, with a violent jerk, they came as well, all the pent-up seed he'd held back for so long spilling out in a terrific torrent. Norn grunted rapturously with his voice. They shuddered with each pulse, coming so hard it hurt. He felt like he could feel his Soul flowing out of him. And with it went something else: the shard of Norn's Soul. With every heaving spurt, the kernel of blazing power slid lower in his guts until it reached his cock, where it squeezed upward towards Marilla's core.

"Take my Soul," whispered Norn, and then he felt himself bend down to kiss the lady tenderly on the mouth, and Mag's cock jerked one last time, releasing the last of his essence and Norn's Soul fragment as well. They shuddered together, kissing passionately, spending themselves fully, until Mag collapsed atop Marilla, in control again at last but too exhausted to move.

***

Marilla had damn near passed out, her mind a blank blank haze from the masterful tonguing and expert fucking Mag had visited upon her. He'd somehow known her every desire, found every center of pleasure in her body, and brought her to the most shattering climax she'd ever known. Dimly she felt him withdraw, his softening cock popping free, and she heard him rebuckling his trousers, muttering something, a curse or an apology, before stumbling off into the garden alone. Just as well. Best we not be seen returning together.

Part of her couldn't believe she'd just done that - fucked a near stranger, although a handsome and charming one. What would her father say? Still, she'd enjoyed every minute of it, and a shudder passed through her thinking of how thoroughly he'd ravished her, how easily he'd drawn every ounce of pleasure from her core. Even now she could feel his seed trickling along her thigh to the stone bench beneath her. She would have to brew a certain bitter tea tomorrow, to ensure no child came of their union.

I wouldn't worry. There's no chance of that.

Marilla sat up with a gasp, her eyes going wide. She thought she'd heard a voice, a soft, breathy woman's voice, but when she looked around there was only the empty gazebo. Had she gone mad, then? It had sounded so clear.

You aren't mad. Quite the opposite, I think.

There it was again, echoing in her mind. Magic of some kind, she realized, and then she felt a twinge of heat in her abdomen. She'd felt it before, streaming into her along with Mag's seed, but her bliss had been so exquisite at the time that she thought she'd imagined. But there it was again, like a small bead had been placed inside her, and it radiated warmth through her body. Marilla knew she ought to have been terrified by the feeling, but there was something oddly familiar about it. She was more curious than anything.