The Elixir of Life is Made

The heart of magick is change. Dævara effects the re-emergence of a Magus who last walked the worlds centuries previous. Along the way, she gives Drago a lesson in m-dimensional biology and the properties of organic Silver.

NSFW

from The Silvergrey Sea

SIX continued

After my heart slowed, I opened my eyes to find hers on me as she licked and sucked sticky fluid from her fingers. I watched, listening to her tongue lapping and her lips smacking, feeling lust surge again. I moved toward her on all fours.

Without breaking eye contact, Dævara rolled onto her back and parted her knees.

My hips hit her thighs just as my face squared over hers. Our eyes never lost contact—left to right & right to left (sun staring at moon; moon at sun). My erection lay against the hot sloppy mess of her cunt. I could feel a pulse with my cock; whose I wasn’t sure. Her eyes begged for penetration; vulva feeling like it might actually suck my penis in. The moment must be prolonged, I reminded myself.

I began sliding my dick up and down along her sopping lips. My assistant’s breathing became hoarse, almost a groan. Her jaw trembled. She began to close her eyes, but no. My up thrusts ran along a hardened knob—her clitoris swollen and exposed. Judging by the delicious sensation it gave me, and her increasingly irregular breathing, we were both about of get off once again.

So I stopped and just held our bared genitals together.

It was then that I took notice of the sound. It was like the ringing of a distant bell, a high sweet note. A breath of air cooled the sweat on my buttocks and thighs. A taste like tin filled my mouth. I began to understand that this was a part of the rite, an indication of impending success. I had thought that the swirling in front of my eyes was incense. It carried no scent, though. Besides, it sparkled. All around us gathered and flowed the astral light, summoned by magick to be the substance of this ritual.

Our eyes still locked stare for stare; I broke contact to line up my worshipping cock with her waiting temple portico. We held each other’s’ eyes as I slowly walked the nave to the altar. Only when our pubic bones met did I descend to place a kiss, finally, on her lips. Her tongue, twisting, teasing, tasted of thick honey; the flesh of her cheek smelled of roses and something tantalizingly beyond my identification.

We breathed into each other as I set the rhythm of my thrusts—twice for every in breath, thrice for every out. My orgasm, having barely retreated after the last one, bulled to the front of my awareness in seconds. I felt the staccato clenching of Dævara’s vagina as she climaxed again as well. Her legs, thighs surprisingly strong, clamped hard around my waist as she broke the kiss and howled into my ear. Our joint ecstasy went on for a long while.

The tide of sensation finally retreated, leaving us both the stronger for it.

We were close now. The air felt thick, her white body glistened with sweat. Mine felt sticky and warm. “One last thing before the end,” I said.

She kept her lips together, nostrils flaring with each short breath. The curl at the corners became more acute.

I slipped free of her restraint and descend to her sex, planting tiny kissed as I went.

The smell of her made me dizzy and almost brought another orgasm on its own. I realized, from the stuttering of her abdomen, that she was on the verge of yet another, herself.

She crested again as soon as my tongue touched the deep blue of her inner labia. I had to hold her down while I continued. The taste of her was indescribable. I felt I could have lived off it alone for the rest of my life. Thick ambrosial fluid flooded my mouth every few seconds as my assistant sustained a continual orgasmic state longer than any woman I had ever been with. I realized that my own orgasm kept rising and retreating without any assistance from me.

I almost spoiled the rite then. The pleasure of the experience drove all other consideration from me.

It was she, giving sterling service, who brought me back to our purpose. She did it with a touch on my head and a word forced out around her helpless cries.

I withdrew.

A low saddle had been brought to the edge of the circle beforehand. I went to it now and quickly placed it near Dævara. Without assistance, she rose and flopped, belly down across it. I quickly tied her hands and feel to the leather restraints attached to the four lower corners of the device.

She was now bent helplessly before me, arms and legs spread wide, her head resting on pillows, her face, forehead down, toward the black leather of the saddle. I could see the contractions of her vulva as she continued to orgasm. Fluids continued to leak from her. Strands of grool dripped to the plush of the pillows under her.

One final item. Under where the saddle had been was a four foot birch rod; a collection of a dozen thin twigs, lashed together near one end.

Not waiting on ceremony, I began to lash Dævara’s buttocks and thighs. The first crack! to the fleshy part of her ass hiked her ecstatic sobs in pitch and volume. Elongated blue marks surmounted each bubble of flesh, turning brighter each second.

I varied the strength and frequency of my strokes until I had what her howls told me were the perfect strikes. No words did she speak, only the music of her voice, driving my lust almost past control.

The room was now dancing with astral light. Millions of sparkling motes of light swirled and tumbled in the air. A silver snowstorm it was. Winds that only my soul felt buffeted me.

Time to bring the third player into this drama, I thought.

I reached into my unconscious and brought forth Drago, the Hyborean. His panic at feeling me was almost comic. It might have been a struggle but this close to the climax his struggles mattered about as much as a kitten’s might have. Holding him firmly where he needed to be, I knelt between Dævara’s feet for the sacrifice.

Though I had striven to avoid it, I had bruised the elf’s butt and upper thighs rather badly and had broken skin in a half dozen places. Streaks of greyish blue marked where two flowed rather freely. It didn’t seem to have bothered my assistant; her cunt continued to spasm and leak juices and her moaning ululations were as aroused and arousing as they had always been.

I spoke the purpose of the Work: “It is my will erase the walls that separate my being from that of my host. May this rite of destruction accomplish that act.” I inched forward on my knees and plunged my cock into Dævara’s waiting slit. I gave it three full pumps before withdrawing.

Aiming an inch higher, I slowly began pushing past the tight outer sphincter of her anus. It admitted me readily.

Just as I began to feel the resistance of the inner barrier, she said, “I welcome you, Warrior, and your forceful spear, break the barrier that True Communion be made.” It was remarkably clear and without noticeable accent. She remained silent after as well. I had no time for wonder at her phenomenal control.

The second constricting muscle proved no barrier at all. The delicious sensation of driving to the hilt released another orgasm—from us both, I was sure. My scrotum was instantly soaked the moment it contacted her vulva, it still twitched strongly.

Now for the hardest part. I faced my other inside and willed the surface separating us to dissolve all the while stroking in and out of Dævara’s asshole. Releasing the muscles whose reflexive spasming I had overcome was a chore, given that I had to do it subconsciously. I wouldn’t know if I had succeeded until it was time.

When I was sure I was ready and fully focussed on shattering the barrier, I short stroked and let the flood come.

I could see Drago in my mind’s eye as what had been opaque became clear. Still there, but weakened. It would be ready for a heavy thrust.

I let my awareness return and withdrew my member from the elf’s back door. That after sex lethargy had me. Crouching I saw my semen dripping from her still clenched rosebud. I drank from the consecrated chalice. Her fluids on my penis had lubricated our movement. Enough remained to mix with my essence to make the elixir. I held it in my mouth, willed the erasure of the separation and swallowed. Much faster than I had expected, it was gone. Drago slammed into me.

The disorientation was severe but short-lived. I felt the man’s memories, and sense of self merge with mine. Soon, he was only a voice in my head, one among a myriad that clamoured for my attention—the parliament of the human ego.

Dævara a-hem-ed.

Remembering our agreement, I quickly slurped up more of the elixir and crawled around to face her; except that I couldn’t the way she was trussed up. I quickly freed a hand and foot. She got another hand free and pushed herself up.

We shared the elixir in a sweet kiss.

“Thank ye, luv.” Her voice was the well-modulated brogue of our first meeting. Sweat coated her face. Her eyes shone as she grinned.

Moving sprightly for someone who had just been bound, beaten, and ass-fucked, Dævara freed her remaining foot and stood. Clawing at the ceiling, she stretched. I noticed the silver snowflakes were no longer visible swirling through the air just she turned to leave the circle, lavatoryward. She bore no visible wounds. Magical stuff, that elixir.

I caught up to her before she reached the circle—where the circle had been, rather. (All signs of the occult were gone from the room, even the fires, and the smell of incense.)

I felt great. So, it appeared, did she. Linking arms with me, she looked at me sideways and raised a red-gold eyebrow.

“Success.” I smiled.

Hers widened. Through the door and into the shower we went, this time just to wash the last of the ritual from our bodies.

“One question,” I asked as hot stinging spray hit my back.

“Yes, luv?”

“What makes your blood blue?”

She was rubbing a bluish paste on her teats and belly, making a lather. She handed me the crystal jar containing it. “My blood’s silver based, it is.”

“I had no idea silver could act as an organic element.” Her colouring was (mostly) explained, now. “Have you any iron in your body?”

She shook her head. “Iron’s toxic ta me, it is.”

Well, that explained some myths. “Badly?”

“Not really, no. I can touch somethin’ made o’ steel ’r iron ’thout much but a red mark that itches fer a few minutes, tha’s all. A bullet wound’d kill me, though—” she grinned again—”tha’s what’s s’posta happ’n anyway, so I did hear.”

“Any other exotic compounds?” I was genuinely curious. Before my original death, the only life known was Œrthe-based.

Without being asked, she began to scrub my back. I heard, “I’ve some gold in me. Also sulfur and arsenic. They’re all toxic ta human’s, I b’lieve.”

“I’m not in any danger—” twisting around, I looked down at her—”am I? You know, because of—” I indicated the other room.

She shook her head. “Ye’d hav’ta do a lot more’n swallow some o’ me spend, ye would. The elements’re not present in large amounts, they’re not.”

I was relieved, though still intrigued.

“I’m still confused, though. How can these elements possibly be organic?”

I hadn’t expected an answer, but Dæv did, anyway. “How much d’ya know about m-dimensional biology?”

“Nothing.”

“Guess the same goes fer m-dimensional chemistry an’ physics, then.” I could hear her smile.

“Yup. I’ll have to educate myself.” I meant to, if the chance arose.

This elf was a rare bijou gem: as knowledgeable about hard science as she was about Magick and the arts of Love.

It was a shame I’d probably not see her again.

Continued here

—Gideon Jagged 
Toronto, February 2014 e.v.
revised December 2014 e.v.
Copyright © 2014 C.E., Gideon Jagged & Alchemy of the Word
All Rights Reserved

Posted in Erotic, Fiction, Silvergrey Sea, Speculative, Work In Progress and tagged , , , , , , , , , , .

Author of Speculative & Erotic Fiction, Contrarian Essayist, Freethinker, Feminist, Free Expression Absolutist, Proud Child of the Enlightenment, Elf.