To Save a World Ch. 06

"Oh, don't worry about such things. I'm perfectly willing to believe anything you tell me." Lydia gestured offhandedly, eager to get on with what she sensed was an interesting story.

"I am curious as well, master." Serche added her expectations to the mix.

"That's kinda bad, Lydia." Aaron chuckled in amusement, and then grew silent as he thought deeply. "Yeah, well, okay. So... Atomic Theory... In the simplest sense, it's a scientific theory that explains the nature of everything."

"Everything?" Lydia echoed.

"Sign... tefic? " Serche tried out the foreign word.

"Wow, this is harder than I thought." Aaron struggled, his hands moved as if grasping for something that wasn't quite there. "Okay, so here it is. It's a story. It's a story that explains what everything is made of -- but it's a story that we know to be true. Or at least, something that every single person in my world believes to be true."

"It must be quite a story." Serche nodded seriously.

Aaron chuckled. "According to that story, every tangible, observable thing is made up of very very small particles, so small that you can't divide them into anything else." The young man paused momentarily, his mind coming to an abrupt halt at the thought of subatomic particles, and all the headache that would come with it. All in all, it was a very short conflict -- he could barely explain basic physics as it is, so he had no intention of making things more difficult for himself.

"Party-kels? " Lydia echoed again.

"Things. Particles are small things."

"So these atoms, they're the smallest bits of particles?" Lydia prodded, a dozen questions immediately bristled in her curious mind.

"Yes, the smallest there is."

"What do they do?"

"Well, they combine with other atoms -- they're called molecules then, if they've combined -- and those molecules make up bigger and bigger structures until they become anything."

"But who puts them together, and why? Which of the gods does it, and what's the religion called? I've never heard of a god whose only job is to make stuff up, but, come to think of it, there's got to be one -- else who would make every single little thing?" Lydia's curiosity burst like a wellspring struck from a rock, the young woman leaning into Aaron almost aggressively as she directed the torrent of questions unto him. "And how does he decide to make each of everything? It must be terribly cumbersome, deciding which place gets which stones and trees and all that. How about animals, are they made of the same stuff too? But they move! "

"Whoa, whoa, easy there," Aaron chuckled holding up his hand as if fending off an attack, his fragile grasp of scientific concepts simply no match for such an avalanche of childish wonder. "I don't know all the answers, young lady. But I'm pretty sure there's no god that delegates all the stuff; not in this story -- instead, what governs atoms are fundamental laws of nature. Those things aren't gods, but they're the script that everything follows, and have always been like that since the beginning. Also --" He hurried, giving Serche an amused, pointed look, as she was caught in the midst of opening her mouth to ask a question. "Yes, animals too. And humans. Everything is made up of atoms, even that dried piece of grass that you were going to light with fire magic."

Lydia gasped dramatically. "Magic! How about magic, is it made of atoms and molecules as well?"

"Well," Aaron faltered, "That, I really don't know. But my best guess is that it's a form of energy that can be manipulated by the mind."

"Is energy made up of atoms too?"

Aaron screwed his face into a mask of thought. "I... I'm pretty sure not. It's a property, I think. A characteristic of the atoms that can be measured. There's all sorts of different kinds of energy."

"So magic is energy? Is every energy magic?"

"I, well, I think it isn't... But I don't really know." The young man deflated, a little embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. "Wow, these should be questions that I can answer easily. My high school teachers must be weeping right now. Not that I remember who they were. Or even if I went to high school."

Sensing her master's discouraged mood, Lydia put a stop to her questioning. It was a difficult thing to do. In all her life, Lydia's view on the world was rather limited, focused only on the bare essentials to survive. Frivolous thoughts about what everything is made up of would not settle your stomach, would not help you find the best place to look for scraps, and would not outrun the other street urchins when they gang up on you. As such, her natural curiosity has receded deep into the recess of an otherwise agile mind, waiting for its due season, if it ever appeared.

It did. Now that she was in a permissive environment, it was like all of her repressed curiosity exploded. When she was not thinking about fucking Aaron, her mind was filled with questions about the world, about magic, about her companions, and she soaked up the answers to those questions like a dry rag, always wanting for more. It was something she sensed that might have been bothering Serche recently, as if she felt that her explanations weren't enough that Lydia must constantly ask for more. So aware, the young woman sat back and ruminated on her newly acquired knowledge instead.

"So, these atoms and molecules," It was Serche who ventured this time, trying a different angle. "These can help us learn fire magic?"

"In theory, yes." Aaron warmed up again. He focused on the clump of dry grass in front of him as if he would do the magic himself, even holding out his hand with his palm outwards. "If magic is controllable energy, then you just pour and pour the energy into what you want to burn until its temperature raises enough to catch... fire. "

And it did.

The three of them simultaneously jerked back as the grass hissed like a struck match, the flame violently flaring out before it died and disappeared. The violent yellows of the fire seemed to leave a bright afterimage as it burned out, having consumed the dry fuel and meeting wet earth beneath.

Aaron turned to face Lydia, his eyes wide and happy. "That was amazing! See? You did it!"

"Aaron!" The fire-haired woman's eyes were also similarly wide, but hers was one of surprise. "That... that wasn't me! I didn't do that!"

"Master?" Serche's voice was gentle and cautious from beside Aaron. It reminded him of someone who might be talking to a startled pet. "You didn't tell us you can do magic."

Simply put, the next few moments were quite a commotion. Lydia peppered him with questions like an excited child, sometimes not even bothering to wait for the answer, seeming to utter the question purely for the sake of asking it. Serche spoke to him with a voice like the mixture of a disappointed parent scolding a child, and someone desperately trying not to scare a skittish pet. The two women seemed to forget each other and spoke over one another, creating an almighty din that reminded him of a lot of babbling children.

"Wait wait WAIT!" He managed to yell -- loud words for a man who could do nothing but put his hands up and cringe amidst the sudden whirlwind created by two beautiful ladies. "It's not me, alright? How could I do something and not even notice that I did it? That's basically the same as saying that either one of you did it without noticing!"

"True enough." Serche paused. "But it wasn't me."

"It wasn't me either!" Lydia denied, as expected.

"Look --"

"Why don't you just try it again? Then we can settle it for sure."

The young man hesitated. He was about to agree, but he wore a face of uncertainty, almost fear. "What... what happens if it was me? Is that a bad thing? W.. would I..." Aaron couldn't find the rest of his question. He felt an indescribable anxiety suddenly squeezing his chest -- but for what, he didn't know.

"Master," She drew the anxious young man to her and held his solid shoulders, her golden eyes held an easy, reassuring warmth. "Of course it's not a bad thing. You clearly did not expect this as well. It's natural to be afraid of unexpected things, and we're sorry to have made such a fuss. We're sorry right, Lydia?" The Shaman directed a pointed glance to a fidgety Lydia, practically bouncing on her seat.

"Yes, we're sorry." But Lydia had a huge grin in her mouth, and such sparkling lava eyes. "But isn't this exciting? You can use magic! Just like us!"

"I guess." Aaron grinned uncertainly, her excitement infecting him as well. Now that he had time to get used to the idea, he couldn't exactly find anything wrong with it. What was he so afraid of? He didn't feel any different, and if it really was him it's not like something terrible happened to him the first time around.

The two ladies waited in anticipation. Lydia with an excited nervousness that made her gently chew her bottom lip between her teeth adorably (to the delight of everyone watching). Serche was more restrained, with her canine ears standing straight and twitchy above her head. Everyone had their eyes on a new collection of dry leaves and twigs.

"So... what do I do?" The young man nervously asked.

"Hold out your hand like you did before -- it seemed to help you focus. And then... Pour energy, or something. You mentioned that." Serche instructed in a voice close to whisper. Aaron did as suggested.

He concentrated. He thought of what he told the ladies a while ago -- if magic was controllable energy, all he had to do was pick a spot and pour and pour it until the spot ignited. Now that he was more aware of it, he tried to concentrate on a very small surface area on a specific surface, visualizing the process much like the classic lens-and-sunlight experiment. Both women gasped as smoke appeared. Then it ignited, a small, fierce flame. Serche exclaimed. Lydia positively squealed in joy, laughing and clapping.

"Whoa... I... Can do magic!" Aaron wanted to laugh, but he suddenly felt lightheaded. Black spots danced in vision, and the world suddenly began to spin.

"Master?" The laughter died abruptly as they rushed to his side.

"He's cold." Lydia's worried voice sounded twisty, insubstantial, like if he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't be able to hear anything at all.

"He's strained himself." This time it was Serche. Her voice was calm, but tight. "Come, help me lay him down."

Aaron felt himself being laid on his back on the cool forest floor. He tried to even out his breathing. His lungs heaved as he sucked in huge, deep gulps of air. Lydia was right. The tips of his fingers and toes suddenly felt like they were numb with cold.

He dimly thought that it felt like a terrible hangover, happening in fast forward. He was afraid that he might puke -- in his position, he would either choke on his vomit or wash his face with it. That dread added a particularly vile mix to the already sleazy feelings brewing in his gut.

"It's alright." Aaron heard Serche from above him, her voice soothing. While his body laid on the moist, mulchy earth, his head felt rather soft and comfortable. He realized he was lying on the Shaman's lap. "It's alright. You only strained yourself, its normal. Nothing else will happen to you. I swear." He felt strong, firm fingers rub circles on his forehead, and into his scalp. It felt profoundly comforting. The distinct pressure on his scalp gave him something to focus on, an assurance that seemed to steady his spinning world. Warmth was also rubbed to his hands by Lydia's smaller fingers.

When he could managed it, he asked, "What happened?" His voice was thick and weak.

"You strained yourself." Serche replied, "It's my fault. It was your first time with magic -- I obviously shouldn't have made you do so many spells all at once. I... I'll be more careful next time."

Opening his eyes, he saw her pretty face above him. Even though she tried to keep her face neutral, her eyes were those of a scolded puppy looking for redemption, large and innocent and full of remorse. He couldn't help it, he reached up and cupped her cheek. Hesitantly, she leaned into it. "I... I'm sorry. I promise this won't happen again."

Her cheek felt wonderful. Soft, but unfamiliar. Her face was covered by microscopic fur so fine that it might as well be skin, and it had a taught, silky texture was something close to addictive. Take a newborn puppy, nothing more than a few days old, and flip it on its back, and rub it on its warm little tummy -- then you might have a close approximate. Suddenly filled with an uncontrollable urge, Aaron began to rub and scratch her cheek.

"M... master?" Serche leaned into the touch uncertainly, her golden orbs searching his. Perhaps aware -- and compensating for -- her mistake just minutes ago, she did nothing to stop him.

"Shh. You feel really nice. Lemme scratch you." The young man demanded. He smiled when he saw something close to embarrassment on her features; it was in the way her ears made little, unsure twitches, the way they laid almost flat against her head but did not droop. "Don't worry about it, Serche. We didn't know what would happen -- you did really well, considering the situation."

"So," Lydia ventured from below as she removed his worn out boots. She began to rub his cold feet to warmth as well. "What exactly happened back then, Serche?"

"He simply exhausted his magic -- it is not such a noteworthy occurrence. It's much akin to spraining a muscle, only in your head. Even you might have felt it before, once or twice. Right now he is just weak and low on magical energy. M... master, would you mind..."

The Shaman seemed thoroughly confused by the hand scratching her cheek. Tired of the slouching position and hoping to dislodge the master's offending limb, she straightened. This only served to push her enormous breasts to his arm. He did not stop his ministrations -- in fact, he brought up his other hand and began squishing both sides of her face. She felt mortified -- but the damnedest thing was, his touch felt good, in an intimate sort of way. She began to shy away from his squishing hands and made small noises of protests.

"Low on magical energy, you say?" Lydia sounded pensive, and then she made a noise that said she knew exactly what to do.

"Um, I don't think that's going to help much." Aaron's voice was unsure as the young woman started to take his trousers off. His cock bounced out at half mast, laying on his stomach. The reaction was almost Pavlovian by now, the member immediately hardening when it came to contact with the open air. Lydia made noises of appreciation as she gently grasped it in her hand.

"Shush, master." She said to Aaron.

"L... Lydia, I don't think that's the time for --"

"Shush, Serche. And you guys call me Lee from now on. Lydia is such a mouthful, and Lee is much cuter."

The Shaman froze on her seat, Lydia's words swimming in her head. Her master's head laid on her lap and his face practically drowned from her breasts, all the while his cock was getting massaged just a handspan across from her -- and by a woman who seemed all too comfortable with it. If she stretched her hand out, she would also be able to get ahold of her master's tool.

It was a wonderful cock. Fully erect, Lydia's dainty fingers met only just around its thickest point, and there were still more length to spare even as both her hands were wrapped around it. It held an elegant curve, ending in a head that stuck out proudly and reminded the Shaman of the olden human knights of their lore. It even had the same proud shine to it.

Serche exhaled deeply as Lydia took the head into her mouth. She had not realized that she'd been holding her breath.

It was a delicate movement, almost ceremonial, but also something familiar. Born out of frequent practice, for sure. Lydia bobbed her head slightly on the, well, head -- but most of the movement seemed to happen inside as she bathed it with her warm saliva and gently swirled her tongue. The young woman came up for air, looking like a pup with a favorite treat -- which, in a way, she was. Aaron made a commanding sound deep in his chest.

"U.. uh, maybe this is the time for me to leave." Serche nervously shifted in her kneeled position, ready to flee.

"Don't you dare" Lydia said, fiercely, her hands holding the master's member like a mighty bludgeon. "And what, leave our master's head lying on the dirty ground, while I make him better?"

"O... oh." The Shaman might have no doubt conjured the responses appropriate to get her out of that particular situation -- if only her mind wasn't all scattered like dry leaves on the wind. She usually kept her cool on many things, but the intimacy between man and woman was something that she had little experience in. Aside from her carefree wilding days (so long ago, now!), she did not sustain a deep interest on such things. Perhaps if she had, she might have known what to do when Lydia started sucking back on Aaron's cock.

Serche shifted again. She tried to look at anything but what was happening in her master's crotch, but as streams always flow downhill, her gaze as well constantly followed the path of least resistance to settle on the beautiful young woman bobbing on Aaron's cock.

There was something about the sight of Lydia and the way she happily struggled to contain the comparatively enormous cock that held Serche's gaze. Maybe it was the curve of her pale, slender neck as she diligently bent down again and again to drive it deeper into her throat. Maybe it was the dutiful stretch of her delicate lips as it encircled the turgid member. Maybe it was simply the look of loving concentration on her face, the way her exotic eyes scrunched up in focus as tongue and mouth and hands made concerted effort to please her master. The sight transfixed Serche, the choking, gurgling sound the feisty young woman made excited her. The guttural moans Aaron made sent little shivers down her spine.

Something shifted inside her.

It was only a little, but she felt it come to life. 'No! It should still be at least a tenday in coming!' The Shaman truly felt discomfited, then, caught unawares. "Um, I really should..."

Lydia made a disgusted noise. "Master. Keep her there"

"H... how?"

The young woman gave a long-suffering sigh that said 'must I do everything around here?' She leaned towards Serche, picked up Aaron's idle hands, and laid them on Serche's fleshy mountains. Not contented, Lydia pressed Aaron's hand into the Shaman's tits until he made the circular, kneading motions on his own. Serche made some sort of shocked, choking noise, the hands on her tits as good as chains holding her down.

"There!" Lydia exclaimed in satisfaction. She immediately went back to her duty of shoving the master's tool as far as it would go down her gullet.

As for Serche, there was little she could do but enjoy the show, and Aaron's ministrations. Her breasts felt unusually constricted, Aaron strong and firm as he enjoyed the bounties of her flesh. He kneaded it in circles, caressed the sensitive fur, and delighted in hefting their weight. He tweaked her bare nipples through her covering.

It felt like being tickled, the sensation teetering between pleasure and discomfort, but always managing to lean unto the former. The feelings went straight to her moistening core. Little gasps escaped her lips as she felt an exciting pleasantness wash over her. Beastmen of her kind did not sweat, but to make up for it they breathed much more deeply and frequently than humans -- her breathing became long, yearning sighs.

"Gently, please." Serche heard herself say, breathily. Aaron responded. "N... not to gentle, though..."

Lydia looked up at her, the smile evident in her eyes despite the meaty bludgeon that restricted her lips. The Rakan woman felt like she was being praised. She gasped loudly. The pitiful cloth that struggled to contain her mounds came undone, and her breasts bounced out freely. Serche felt a deep, inexplicable embarrassment. Without the little piece of cloth, the man's warm hands held her flesh directly. It felt like a sudden leap in intimacy; where Aaron's hands played in the shallows before, now they were fully immersed in the depths of it. Unconsciously, her hands held his in place. She did not know if she wanted to pull them away or push them deeper.