The Sword and the Soul Ch. 05

Rovish could feel the tears welling in his eyes and beginning to roll down his cheeks. "I do not wish to forget," he protested.

"And yet you shall. This is as it must be."

"Pardon me, Exalted One," said Brand. "Before that, I wonder if I might have your counsel. I am concerned about the Lady Marilla. She has reason to suspect me, though I know not why, and could be a threat to our plans. How shall I deal with her?"

"She is of no consequence," said Lu'Caella. "I have told you before not to trouble yourself with these insignificant humans. The Norn creature is the greater threat. She evaded my Soulseeker somehow, but it is of no matter, for she is easy to predict. The witch will go to the mine next in an attempt to claim the eolith for herself, as she did in times past. But my vanguard will soon cross into this plane and put an end to her."

"Forgive me, Exalted One," continued Brand, "but this news gives me pause. Norn is still on the loose, and powerful Soulkin will soon walk abroad in Seleca? Should we not discuss this further?"

Lu'Caella rounded on Brand, and her ruby eyes flashed with dark wrath. "Later," she commanded. "My time in Angrael grows short. I would use it for more satisfying ends than hearing of your pathetic worries. Leave us."

She waved her hand dismissively, a trail of flame following her fingertips. Brand's face remained blank, but from how quickly he obeyed it seemed he was greatly cowed by Lu'Calla's rebuke. He stood and bowed his head, saying nothing more. The Magus swept from the room, shutting the door behind him, and then Rovish was alone with the Elder.

"A tiresome man," said Lu'Calla, not addressing Rovish, but simply speaking her thoughts out loud. "Though useful, in his way."

"He spoke of Norn," said Rovish. "Yet Norn's head is in my hall below."

"I think not," said Lu'Calla. "She would not let her head be taken so easily. That witch hindered my designs once before. It shall not happen again. All has proceeded as I have planned it."

"I don't understand," said Rovish.

"Nor will you. For you are an ignorant man, and you shall be dead long before my ambition comes to pass. But there is one thing even a pathetic creature such as you can give to me."

"What, My Lady?"

Her ruby eyes bored into him as she said, "Your Soul. For a lord's Soul is potent, and yours will sustain the primal Arts I must weave." She flicked two fingers upward in a precise gesture. "Stand and disrobe."

Rovish hurried to obey, leaping to his feet and unhooking the clasps that held his robe closed. It fell away, and he doffed his undershirt just as quickly, so that he stood bare before the Elder. He felt no shame or modesty to be thus revealed. It somehow seemed only natural.

She crossed the distance between them and laid one hand upon his chest, caressing the rigid muscle there. Her palm was like a stone baked hot in the sun, and made him gasp. The flames that garbed her form did not burn him, but set his Soul to thrumming. She ran her hand along him as if inspected livestock, feeling his taut forearms, his toned hips, his firms buttocks. His manhood stood out at full attention, pulsing up and down, but Lu'Caella carefully avoided that part of him, though he yearned so desperately for her touch.

"Brand has done his job well. You are full of vigor, nearly as comely as when I first met you, Rovish. Here you stand, diminished somewhat, but still brimming with Soul. And pleasing to look upon, I might add. For a human, that is."

Rovish beamed from the compliment. The Elder pointed downwards, and Rovish scrambled to the ground. He lay on his back on the rug before the hearth, cock jutting straight up into the air. Lu'Caella stood above him, her feet to either side of his thighs. She snapped her fingers, and the flames that swirled around her body dissipated. Rovish could clearly see her firm, dark nipples, and the lips of her sex beneath fiery red hair. His lust reached the boiling point, and Rovish's balls grew tight, his cock bobbing with heavy pulses of blood. She was the most achingly beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her lips parted, a single desirous sigh escaping them, as pleasing a sound as the gentle autumn wind. With two bronze fingers she parted the lips of her perfect sex, revealing the darker pink within, glistening with wetness.

"I shall use you now, Rovish," announced the Elder. "In a manner befitting one of your lowly station. You may consider it a profound honor."

The Elder knelt down before him and grabbed hold of his ankles, her hands scalding his skin. She lifted his feet, spreading his legs and bending them backward, knees pointing towards his shoulders. His cock jutted up between his thighs, and Lu'Caella scooted forward, settling her exquisite flesh against his. He felt incredibly vulnerable like this, but thrilled that his lady could use him in such a dominant way. It was uncomfortable, painful even, but he relished the pain. Her eyes, incandescent with hunger, bored into him. Her mouth parted slightly, another sigh of satisfaction escaping. She ground herself against the backs of his thighs, and he felt the wet heat of her sex brushing against him.

"Speak to me of your fealty," she demanded.

"My Soul is yours, Exalted One," said Rovish. "Use me as you will."

She reached down and between them and traced one long, hot finger along the underside of his painfully engorged cock. That single touch, so gentle, so sensuous, so transcendent, made Rovish gurgle with pleasure. His balls seized up and he peaked instantly, his seed spewing in a powerful arc. The first spurt landed on his cheek, nearly missing his eye, and the rest cascaded onto his toned chest and belly.

"Gods," he moaned, barely coherent with the tremendous pleasure he was experiencing. "Forgive me. Your touch. Exquisite."

Lu'Caella laughed, and the sound stirred his Soul. Even once he'd spent himself, he found his cock had not diminished in the slightest, but harder than ever, swollen with Soul, immense and throbbing with his need for her.

"What is a bit of wasted essence, when you have so much more to give me?" said the Elder.

She took a firmer hold on his manhood and angled it forward, adjusting herself so that the lips of her divine sex could wrap themselves around the slick, broad head of his cock. Rovish cried out to the gods when Lu'Caella sank onto him, using his splayed legs for support. Her womanhood was a furnace around him, so hot he feared his cock would melt, but he didn't care. It was a pleasure like nothing else he'd ever felt, so intense his mind was wiped clean of everything but his lady above him, looking down at him with carnal hunger.

Lu'Caella took him dominantly, bending his legs back so far they nearly touched his shoulders. Their thighs slapped together as she rode him, her scalding hands on his chest, smearing the seed he'd spilled there. The Elder's crimson hair fell around her head, girding them like a heavy curtain, blotting everything from his vision but her perfect features, her pink tongue peeking lustily from between dark red lips, her ruby eyes flashing with desire.

"Consign your lord's Soul to me, Rovish," urged Lu'Caella. "Let my body drink up all that you are."

She slammed her hips against him so powerfully it felt like his manhood might break off in her sex, and then she clamped down on him painfully tight. Lu'Caella's divine womanhood rippled around him in exquisite rhythm, coaxing him towards release. He felt something building, so much more powerful than before, a stupendous amount of Soul gathering in his core. Part of him dreaded the coming crisis, feeling that his very being was being suctioned away.

But it was too late. He gritted his teeth, clutched the carpet, gave a primal yell, arched his back, and burst within Lu'Caella, pouring a torrent of soul into the Elder's quivering depths. She hissed words of encouragement, and any fears he had melted away. His climax was unabating, his cock endlessly bucking and releasing within his Lady's sex, so unimaginably tight and hot.

Moving blindingly fast, the Elder dismounted him and scooted back along the carpet. His obscenely swollen manhood continued to erupt into the air like a geyser, the essence spewing from it a lustrous silver hue that shimmered in the firelight. Somehow Rovish knew that it was his own Soul. His cock bucked powerfully, sending two streams of his essence arcing high into the air. Some of it splashed across Lu'Caella's full, perfect bosom, where it hissed and evaporated in a cloud of steam. Her lips parted in a sinister grin at her handiwork, flashing four sharp and glinting canines. The Elder's neck and head twisted and struck like a viper, her mouth engulfing the Duke's manhood in one quick, decisive movement. His cock slid down the scalding tunnel of her throat, continuing to pour out his Soul. Lu'Caella groaned with contentment, a primal, otherworldly sound, and sucked him powerfully, drawing more and more of his seed from his body, her teeth scraping the base of his shaft, her throat flexing in a purposeful rhythm. The pleasure was unimaginable, and though he was terrified to feel so much of his body's vitality being suctioned away, he was powerless to stop it. His nails shredded the carpet, his hips flexing upward of their own accord, teeth clenched painfully against the overwhelming intensity of his ceaseless discharge.

At last the rhythmic suckling of her throat abated, and the flood of Soul slowed to a trickle, but by then he was too weak to move. Lu'Caella freed his manhood from her glistening lips, a silvery thread of liquid connected them briefly before it snapped. His cock, softening quickly now, still wept with the last drops of silvery essence. The Elder gave a throaty groan of satisfaction as the errant seed on her lips evaporated into steam. As she stood, he saw that her stomach was swollen, and she stroked its gentle curve contentedly. With no regard for him at all, Lu'Caella stepped over the Duke and back into the flames of his hearth, which roared and popped at her crossing. Then she was gone.

He had not the strength to stand. Coupling with the Elder, rendering obeisance unto her, had left him in a stupor, where coherent thoughts bubbled up and then floated away before they could be followed. Rovish lay there on the carpet, weak and dumb, until presently the ashen door of his chamber swung open. Muffled footsteps crossed the rugs lining his floor, and presently he saw the soft features of Magus Brand looking down at him. He clucked his tongue, frowning at what he saw.

"She's taken too much again," he said, sighing. "This will be difficult to explain."

"Uh?" was all Rovish could manage in response.

"Hush now, My Lord," said Brand. "Let's get you to bed."

The magus gathered Rovish up, swinging one of the Duke's arms over his shoulders so he could haul him to his feet. Brand practically had to drag Rovish over to the mirror, as his feet did not seem to work properly just then. Looking into the mirror, Rovish gasped in horror. Looking back at him was a white-faced revenant with eyes sunk deep in their sockets, his ribs standing out starkly from his emaciated chest, his arm hanging limp and bony at his side, his cock shrivelled and tiny between his legs. It was the skeleton of an ancient king, shambling from his crypt.

"You see?" said Brand, shaking his head sadly. "It's a wonder she hasn't killed you. It would be better to take a little at a time, but she prefers gluttony, letting you nearly recover before draining off nearly everything. Oh well. Who am I to question an Elder?"

Brand helped Rovish stumble over to bed, dumbfounded and disbelieving the figure in the mirror. His mind tried to make thoughts that might explain, and his lips and tongue struggled to form questions. But all that came out were doddering grunts and puffs of air. The magus tipped him onto his soft down mattress and pulled the heavy blankets over his shrunken body. Then Brand pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down, opening his spellbook in his lap.

"There, now," he said, his tenor soft and soothing. "A few more spells before bed, My Lord. To help you sleep, and grow stronger. To help you forget this ordeal. And most of all, to be sure you trust in me, and only me."

The magus began intoning the eldritch words of the Old Tongue, and as the spells coiled around the Duke of Seleca, the lingering horror in his mind vanished in an all-consuming blackness that girded him comfortingly. Soon he knew no more.

~#~#~#~#~#~

What are Mag and Norn up to? And where's that fight I promised last time? We'll find out in the next chapter! For real this time! Plus there'll be some group sex - I know what y'all are really here for.

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