Cecil and the Sorcerer
Not long after Cecil saved The Bull and Mare from certain closure at the hands of the tax collectors - by letting them get rather handsy with her - she found herself bored once again. Cecil refused any advances from the innkeeper Richard as punishment for letting her deal with the tax collectors on her own, and Richard's son Georg was haunted by his mother.
As a small consolation for her service to the tax collectors, they held true to their word and there was a small though marked increase in the number of patrons visiting The Bull and Mare. Cecil rarely considered one worth her consideration for a tryst, and often the ones she thought enticing came with a retinue and declined her advances.
One stormy evening, with not a visitor seen the entire day, Cecil stared out the window.
Blasted weather, with this rain it's even less likely someone will come, she moped. Richard didn't even thank me for watching the inn while he and his family are in the village for the night. Wonder what he'd think if some big, awful, monster came. Maybe if the big, awful monster came and gave me a proper dicking it'd be a more enjoyable evening than... this. Well, what else to do when alone and bored?
Cecil jumped out of her chair and hurried to her room. She gathered up a few items and ran back to the main room of the inn. Spreading a soft blanket on a table, she lay out a wide range of choice oblong implements of varying lengths and widths and angles, some knurled, some bumpy, some smooth, but all clearly designed for a single purpose: to bring a woman pleasure.
She slid onto the blanket and hiked up her shirt. There were no undergarments to pull down, as she rarely worried about such silly articles of clothing. With a grin, she surveyed her range of dildos and readied to make a choice when a purple glow appeared in the window. Cecil leaned close and squinted, making out a strange umbrella. At the end of a stick, instead of oiled cloth or leather, was a shimmering flat purple membrane. Ran bounced off, and the figure was remarkable dry beneath.
"Gods above, when I finally make peace with the loneliness, you send a mage my way?" Cecil fumed. "That better be a man with a healthy cock dangling between his legs and the skill and practice to use it."
She hastily pulled her dress down and folded the blanket over her dildos. Strolling around the bar, she waited for the mage to hopefully enter the inn. After agonizing minutes passed, Cecil bored of the wait. They must be passing by, she thought. She dashed over to the pile of dildoes, slipped out her favorite - a polished wooden shaft six inches long with small bumps along the length and a fist-sized ball at the end for a handle.
Back at the bar, Cecil sat on a stool and hiked up her dress. She teased her labia with the dildo until she couldn't wait any longer, then plunged it deep inside. Cecil moaned and whimpered as each bump on the shaft teased her labia and massaged the walls of her pussy. She pumped faster and faster when the door slowly creaked open.
Cecil hurriedly sat forward on the stool, unintendedly pressing the ball handle hard against her clitoris. Her cheeks flushed as she inspected the mage.
Slender and tall - easily a head taller than Cecil - their hooded robe shrouded their face. It was covered in mysterious, swirly dark pink and lavender embroidery. The umbrella was now used as a posh walking stick. The new arrival carried no pack or bag or satchel, with just a few pouches hanging from their belt. They walked confidently forward to the bar.
Cecil was not one to be intimidated, but something about this person set her off-kilter. She put on her best smile possible, quite difficult with a dildo jammed up her pussy further than she had planned, and greeted the guest.
"Welcome! I'm Cecil, Wench of The Bull and Mare. The innkeeper Richard is out tonight, but I'll be sure you're well cared for. A mage, I take it?"
"No. Sorcerer."
The command of the warm voice sent a shiver down Cecil's spine. The hood dropped back revealing a gorgeous elf with tawny skin. Her high cheekbones were set beneath wide, upward-angled eyes. A sweeping jaw tapered up towards long, pointed ears. The woman smiled, her thin lips curling up at the corners.
Cecil's face scrunched. "Is there a difference between a mage and a sorcerer?"
The sorcerer chuckled, as if she were a teacher and Cecil a student who asked a silly question. "Yes, of course there is. A sorcerer's magic is innate. I was born with this ability, it is as much of who I am as my eyes, my fingers, my lips." The sorcerer dwindled on the 's,' and Cecil shivered. "A mage must train and struggle for ages to learn such a power, and often will be greatly satisfied with far less skill than mine."
Cecil sat wide-eyed. She coughed to clear her throat, tightening her body around the dildo. "My apologies for asking, I didn't mean to offend. Right then, we have stew and bread, not the best if I'm honest with you but it's hot, plenty to drink, and rooms aplenty. What do you fancy, miss..."
"You mean to ask my name?" The sorcerer replied, staring intently into Cecil's eyes.
"Yes?"
"To you, I am madam."
Cecil's face flushed, her whole body tingling and suddenly hot. She desperately wanted to look away, but the elf's eyes were entrancing and she couldn't bring herself to leave the elf's gaze. "Yes, madam. What can I do for you?"
The elf placed her hands on the bar and leaned forward, looking down at Cecil. "You're quite unusual. A human wench who is short rather than tall, olive skin instead of pale skin, small but supple breasts instead of gigantic tits, dark and well-trimmed brown hair instead of blonde or red. All unusual."
Cecil's face burned at the quick yet accurate assessment. "Whose tits are you calling small, madam?"
"It's a compliment," the sorcerer said with a grin. "It is easy for an elf to feel out of place among humans - we are often derided for our slender figures. I find you much more akin to my taste than most humans. As for what you can do for me, little one, I will take your most modest room."
Cecil's face blushed redder than the hot coals inside the fire. "Ah, well, madam, seeing as it's a quiet night - as usual - you can take our best room. Price will be the same. Trust me though, the worst of the rooms is barely better than a horse's stall in the stables."
"The most simple will do fine."
"If you insist," Cecil said with a shake of her head. "Anything else I can get you? Anything at all? As you can see, it's not exactly the busiest of inns, and I am presently available."
The sorcerer leaned closer over the bar. Cecil drank in the smell of sweet herbs. "The most simple is fine," the sorcerer said.
Cecil felt a quivering in her thighs at the power in the voice. "Of course, madam, whatever you fancy. Is there anything else I can get you, anything at all?"
