4
The Horned Harlot
Amethystra
Four hours before the Torvirr Revel
Quilin gasped as cold mud covered his genitals.
"Gods, that's cold," he complained, to which his companion for the afternoon merely snickered.
"Don't lose concentration," the horned woman said, the ram-like bones protruding from her brow nearly knocking Quilin in the jaw as she inspected the device between the young half-elf's muscular thighs. "You need to remain turgid for five minutes. At least."
"No problem," he said with the utmost confidence. Despite his tone, though, he had his doubts. The mud was colder than he had expected, and even with Coira Revel's magic at work on him, he struggled to imagine a scenario where he could stay like this to suit her needs.
But Coira knew her craft well. She had mastered the elements of it: the alchemy, the magic, and the interpersonal skills alike. As she moved to stand in front of the Torvirr prince, she lifted her apron over her head, baring the snug corset cinching her waist tight and pressing her impressive bust so high up on her chest that she could nearly rest her chin on it. With grayish, lavender hair cascading all down her shoulders, over her bosoms, and down to the middle of her back in elegant ringlets, she pursed her lips at Quilin, mimicking the painting of her hanging over the main entrance to the Horned Harlot, which was bustling with activity above them, on the main floor.
The smoldering look did little to passers by except entice them into her tavern. However, in person, rather than painted onto the wooden sign, there was magic in the look. Quilin let the magic in, let it coil around his sensibilities as she sauntered toward him, mindful of the long cylinder between his thighs, mounted on a wooden bench. Her hands grazed across Quilin's chiseled abdomen, honed taut from years and years of martial training. Her fingertips slid across the dense musculature of his chest, pausing at the stiff black nipples accentuating his gray-skinned pectorals.
Quilin gasped in pleasure. Coira only smirked. She whispered, and her words, laced with magic, slithered into his ears and seduced his mind. He could feel his manhood twitching with excitement, with pleasure that was as much in his mind as it was crawling across his flesh with every inch that her fingers slid across him.
It never occurred to him that he couldn't understand the sibilant words she was whispering. All he knew was pleasure, a red haze of lust settling over his thoughts, obscuring everything but the center of his sexuality. Even the cold mud began to feel blissful after a short while, and it took every fiber of his willpower to resist thrusting into the pale gray matter.
"Almost there," Coira whispered from behind. Her fingertips closed around his nipples, gently massaging them, careful that her black, pointed nails did not score his skin. "Quilin, we're almost there," she moaned in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. She moaned softly in his ear, her breasts firmly pressed against his back as her hands slid down lower, across his abdomen, teasing at the edge of the mud that continued to stiffen against his skin. The lowest part of his abdomen had been shaved clean in preparation for this ritual, and Coira could feel the culmination of her magic reaching completion.
Quilin didn't know what signaled Coira that the process was done, but she disengaged from him swiftly, eagerly going about the work of removing the cast from his manhood. His smooth, hairless genitals slid out of the mold with some effort, taking great care not to hurt himself despite Coira telling him repeatedly it was a perfectly safe ritual.
"Come, quick!" she said to him as she rolled the bench away from him, toward her alchemy table. A large jug of translucent fluid awaited her, sparkling with inborn magic. She took it in her hand and poured the jug into the hole left behind by Quilin's manhood. He watched with curiosity, his member achingly stiff even as the fog of Coira's seductive enchantments began to ebb from his mind.
"What is that stuff?" he asked as she poured the last drops into the cast.
"Residue from a gel cube," she said absently.
"A gel cube?" he asked, eyes going wide as he held his manhood safely away from the stuff. "The kind that eat everything they come across?"
His voice was incredulous, but Coira seemed unaware of his shock. "I just returned with it," she said. "It's why I've been out of the city for the last week."
"You killed a gel cube and harvested its substance to...make...this?"
"It's the best material for enchanted olisbos," she said, nodding excitedly. "Now shut up."
He did as he was told as she gathered up three more vials, pouring each in slowly, one after the other, while chanting the words to spells Quilin didn't understand. There were flashes of magic from within the mold, and Quilin, who knew nothing of sorcery or wizardry, and barely anything at all of divine or primal magics, could feel the enchantment setting the air abuzz with energy.
"There," she said, taking a deep breath and smiling at Quilin. "Now it needs to set for a few hours and it will be ready."
"Ready for use?" he asked, arching a brow. He forgot about the gel cube ooze, forgot about the ritual, and was only thinking of Coira using the mold of his manhood for personal reasons. "You didn't have to make a fake one. I can provide the real thing."
"It's not for me," Coira said as she rolled the cylinder carefully to the side and draped a heavy cloth over it.
"Then who?" Quilin asked, curious. His manhood still hadn't flagged, something he was particularly proud of.
"I don't disclose my clients," Coira said. She affected her smoldering look again, but this time without the enchantment that would cause Quilin to lose his mind to his lusts. She took a step toward him, fingers tapping against his chest. "Besides, we have more pressing matters."
"We do?" he asked. Despite his bravado, his outward attempts at charm, and his station, he was, in truth, quite uncertain of himself, particularly with women he was attracted to. It was all an act, he knew deep down, in an attempt to become the charming, dame-slaying man he had seen in some of his mentors.
Coira found his true naivete charming. As a cloud of uncertainty crossed his face, she grasped his erection and discharged another spell. He jumped, startled, but relaxed quickly when he realized the magic was only sweeping his skin clean of any clay residue.
"I enjoy my craft," Coira said with a purr. "Even more so when my subjects are so...beautiful."
Quilin felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips as she gripped him firmly, his flesh clean of any semblance of clay or the residue thereof. "I'm happy to help," he said, but he was cut off as full, ruby red lips mashed into his own. He could feel the swell of her breasts spilling out of her corset and against his chest as her tongue pierced between his lips to coil around his own.
He was surprised, and not unhappily so, to find that her tongue was quite long, thin, and dexterous. It slithered around his tongue, stroking it deftly as they kissed, mouths open as her hand began to work along his length, massaging him and stroking him at once.
The kiss broke, leaving Quilin breathless and throbbing with arousal. He wanted to question her, but the look on her face gave him pause. She was working through something in her mind as her golden eyes looked back and forth between his own orbs. Coira bit her lip and grinned eagerly.
"You know," she began, stroking his manhood as she spoke. She backed up, pulling him along by the genitals, until she was sitting on the desk next to her alchemy table. "I make all manner of sexual artifice and alchemy here. You could...try anything you wanted. Your cock will prove invaluable and...you deserve reward."
The tone of her voice was salaciously inviting, but Quilin felt a bit lost. He wasn't sure where he would even begin with such an offer. Moreover, he hadn't considered payment at all. To him, this was all a bit of fun with a beautiful fiendborne woman. He licked his lips, looking around with wide eyes. True, her workshop was stacked, wall to wall and floor to ceiling, with potions, magical items, strange looking contraptions, and olisbos of all shapes, sizes, and color. He assumed that many were magical, enchanted to provide some strange pleasure or another.
"It's a lot to take in," Coira said, seeing his hesitation.
"If I may," Quilin said, looking back to Coira, who was cupping her breasts enticingly, "I'm happy simply to enjoy...you."
"And I, you," Coira said. "You're a sweet boy, Quilin Torvirr, but the world is a thrilling place, filled with pleasures beyond your ken. I have crossed planes, sampled the delights of the multiverse. It would be...a delight to take you on such a journey."
Quilin's smile was wide, excited, but he couldn't think beyond the four walls around him.
"My weapons masters have told me that crawling must come before walking, which precedes running, and on and on. Does the same not hold true for...this?" He put his hand around Coira's stopping her stroking motion. Her smile was sweet, but the blaze in her golden eyes had diminished somewhat.
"For some," she said slowly, softly. "But not all. For some of us, our sexual exploration began like a warrior thrust into war for the first time. For some of us, there is no acclimation. Only an endless sea of bliss from our first hedonistic thought to the day we perish."
Quilin felt...sad. Something about her statement was as much an admission of regret as it was a celebration of a life lived lasciviously. He took her face in his hand and pressed against her, kissing her. This time, it was his tongue thrusting forward, taking the tiefling's mouth as her legs instinctively spread around him. She wore nothing below her corset, and the deep red skin between her thighs was so hot that he thought it might scald him when he felt it.
Coira guided his manhood into her nethers, sheathing him in a sea of cloying fire. She moaned into his mouth, one arm reaching back to prop herself up while he took her. She kept an arm wrapped around his neck, unwilling to release him from their intimate embrace as he got his footing. Deep within her, she could truly appreciate the size of the young man she had cast for a highly-anticipated olisbos.
