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                            AIMEE', CHAPTER 1

The sound of the door opening told Darynn that his student for the
evening had arrived. He put down the quill he worked with, moving
slowly, and then covered the inkwell with a small stone cap. He turned
slowly, anticipating the look of awe in the student's face (they
always looked the same). But when he turned, he found himself
surprised, because he had never before had a female student. "Well,"
he said.

He estimated her age between fourteen and fifteen years. That age
where children become just perfect for teaching the ways of the
advanced magicks he of all the mages, understood best. Her hair hung
about her face and down her back in a black frame of soft, tight
curls. He saw beautiful, powerful slate blue eyes under that frame,
and a tiny, delicate nose hovered above an equally small and
expressive mouth. "Come here, child. Sit, over there, on that stool
with the blue pillow, yes." She moved as he directed, and although she
needed her heels on the bottom rung of the stool, she did manage to
get onto it without help. "Now then," he said. "Tell me your name."

"Aimee', sir." She held out an envelope.

"And your master?"

"Teltirray, Darynn-sir."

"He purchased you?" He opened the letter, which indeed carried Mage
Teltirray's seal on it, as he listened.

The girl shook her head nervously. "No, sir. Well, yes sir. I mean I
do not know. He removed me from an orphanage seven months ago, but the
arrangement did not have the contract exchange of a slave."

"But coin passed hand nonetheless," Darynn said, nodding. Teltirray's
last two students had been girls like Aimee'. They were always girls.
Darynn disliked Teltirray, partially for his tastes and partially for
his utter lack of social grace and manners. Teltirray's last two
"students" had apparently found the stress of living with him
unbearable and committed suicide, and he had suspected from the start
that Teltirray merely drove them to madness as a simple method of
disposal. With Aimee's appearance and the instructions in the letter
she held out to him, he felt his suspicions were confirmed.

Darynn examined Aimee' carefully while deep in thought about a
personal dilemma that had not existed before she had walked through
the door. He switched his vision; decades had passed since he had
needed to say anything to effect such change. Under his eyes, she
appeared as a conglomeration of green and blue masses, swirling
lazily. "By Sphahis!" he whispered to himself, then caught his words.
This girl radiated power, power he was very familiar with, and
Teltirray's current plan became clear to him. Teltirray sought his
skill not so that he might train an apprentice, but an odalisque.

Darynn became convinced, and smiled to himself. Aimee' would get the
training Teltirray sought, but he would not get just an odalisque; he
would get an houri, as well.

"So, you have come to me to learn my magicks, Aimee'?" he asked.

"Y... yes, sir. He told me you knew best the teachings in the world
about the magicks of the Satyrs and the Megass." She fidgeted
nervously in her seat, still not daring to make eye contact with him.

He rose from his chair. The sound of his seat rocking startled her
slightly, and she looked away. He stood before her and reached out
with one hand to touch her under the chin, to reach into her. He
wished her a calmness and she received it, turning her head back
towards him. "Look at me, Aimee'. Tell me what you see."

Her eyes looked into his and her gaze pierced him. Oh, Teltirray, he
thought as he let her in, you do like to play with fire, don't you? "I
see a man. Young, but fully grown. Brown, your eyes, the same color as
your beard and hair. You have a handsome nose, and a wide mouth, but
the lips look thick, but not unhandsomely so. Your body, what I can
see of it, shows care, well-shaped and strong. And you possess power."

"The last. Your opinion, or that of rumors given to you?"

"Mine," she said firmly.

He smiled and walked back to his comfortable chair, slowly lowering a
spherical shutter over the magically glowing orb that sat on his desk.
He wanted the darkness of the room to make it seem smaller and more
intimate. He wanted her trust above everything else. "I want to tell
you a story, Aimee', that tale I tell all my students, of my first
encounter with the Satyrs and of my learning of the ways of love, of
power, and of men. That you should hear it intrigues me, because I
have never told it to a female before. Your master tests me, and I do
not like being tested. But do not relay that message to him. You may
tell him everything that occurs... but that. Do you understand?"

"Yes... yes sir."

"Good. Now listen closely."



I began my life as a simple blacksmith's son and the very idea that I
might end up a mage never crossed my mind. I knew my place in the
world and I knew that the worlds of mages lay far beyond my simple
reach. Never did the twain meet.

I had a talent for the smithy, make no mistake. I knew how to make
steel behave in manners never seen before or since, and I can still do
the same today. I still smith as a hobby. And as a way of making the
tools of my true trade, of course.

Do you know where Daber Wood lies on the map, Aimee? No? Some day I
shall pull out my maps and show it to you, once you have learned to
read the simpler ones. Yes, I intend on teaching you that as well.
Suffice to say it should take many weeks and many forged rivers to
reach it walking.

My father had many customers and when I came into my own often he sent
me to see to their needs. As I approached my seventeenth birthday it
became apparent to both him and me that my talents would someday
surpass his. Customers more often requested my presence at their needs
then they did his. I must give him credit for his fortitude and his
benevolence for never once did he express grief or anger at my inborn
skills, only joy and happiness at what we both saw as my future
success. He knew that someday I would have the skills to save him in
elder years. And now, although in ways neither of us intended, I do.
But we could never know what would happen to me that summer.

Father dispatched me one morning to the house of a customer who lived
on the other side of Daber Wood. He called himself Thomas Cailleac,
and to the knowledge of our town he had come into his estate and his
wealth from a combination of family and the lucky spoils of war. He
had often called me in the past year, admitting to me once that he
enjoyed my natural talents as a worker of iron, lead, and silver.

Even starting out first thing that morn the ride to his home would
take me well into the day. It would also carry me through the thickest
heart of those Woods. The stories in town often called those woods
haunted, or worse, cursed! Men vanished in those woods, and sometimes,
late at night, the sounds of pipe and drum carried on the wind. My
father often warned me about the Daber, telling me not to ride through
them after dark. When visiting Cailleac I often rode through them in
the early evening but often managed to break through them before
complete nightfall.

I reached Cailleac before high noon. As much as I could tell, Thomas
lived alone although his house could easily have hidden a dozen
sleeping chambers and staff. He extended his kindness as always,
offering me bread and beer before indicating the work he wanted done.
Iron frames and lead workings held the glass windows in his home in
place but often those frames and working needed mending. He supplied
the glass panes and the lead but he needed my skill to shape and work
them properly. At least, he always said so. But Thomas had told me
once of his life as a warrior and I didn't think him the kind of man
to disdain simple physical labor. I offered to teach him the simple
things that would make it possible for him to do most of the mending
himself.

He laughed heartily. "I like your company, Darynn. Sometimes I think
of breaking the windows myself just to have more excuses to invite you
out here. But, your words have sense. Show me."

I taught him the basics of lead and the dangers therein. Then he
showed me an iron fence that had rotted through and the bolts that had
come loose in the last windstorm. Fixing that ruined masonry took
quite a while.

I felt his eyes upon me as I work. I make no exaggeration in that. He
wore tight pants of tanned cowhide, tall boots, the kind a soldier
should own, and a simple tunic with a slit 'v' at his neck that could
be drawn closed with a strap of leather. The heat of day sweated the
life out of me as I worked and he brought me water, but as he offered
it to me I could feel his eyes touch my skin where my shirt did not
cover me. And his breath, like the scent of warm horses, carried to my
nostrils something that I could not fathom.

For at that age I had known the pleasant company of women but not
their intimacies. And the intimacies of men... pfagh! All I knew of
that came from legends of evil, sickness, and death. What did my town
cleric know? Nothing!

Forgive me, Aimee'. I forget that my cleric now thinks my kinds of
knowledge 'corrupt' and evil, and I think he knows absolutely nothing.
I must remain focused in my tale.

Have you ever watched a man walk, Aimee'? They all walk in almost the
same manner. All except Thomas. His boots should have leant him a
strident, powerful gait. Instead, his power seemed elsewhere, in his
eyes and his broad, massive chest. His stride came in short, careful
gestures, as if he thought about every step before making it. For a
man so long a soldier he looked uncomfortable wearing those boots.

"You could stay the night," he offered me as I prepared my horse to
leave.

"Father will want me home."

"Night falls already, Darynn. I fear for your safety if you walk
through those woods at this hour. It takes you four hours to reach
your home from here."

"I only spend the first two in the forest, sir. I will have no
trouble."

His eyes darted back and forth, and the concern in his face warmed me.
But at the same time it made me nervous; did he know something I
didn't? His nervousness said he did. Finally, though, he nodded his
head. "Take care of yourself, Darynn. I will want to see you again."
He reached out a hand and dropped payment in my hand. Seven silver,
and more than I had asked.

"And you, Thomas. God bless you." I mounted my horse and rode towards
the woods even as the darkness of night fell further.

As I rode, I realized the error of my choice. For the clouds had
covered the sky and neither moon shone through to light my way. At
first I felt confident, but fear began to push that confidence down,
so I lit a lantern.

I saw that I had strayed far from the road. I could not see it from
atop my mount. I guessed that I had ridden in a straight line since
leaving the path and that if I turned around and road straight back, I
had to reach the road again. As my horse walked, I heard thunder in
the distance. At first it came as a slow rumble, then it grew louder
and sharper and closer. Then a lightning bolt struck nearby; my hair
stood on end, my skin burned. Naturally, my horse panicked and threw
me off. I landed on the ground, cursing, and then as my horse flailed
my pack of tools feel from his back and landed very near my head. A
blacksmith's tools weigh many pounds, and I realized that had they
fallen on my head I would surely have died.

That thought stayed in my head for a long time. The fall had stunned
me and I sat up to collect my wits. And then a young, boyish voice
rang out through the woods. "A human, fallen from his horse!"

Another voice sang, "What shall we do with him?"

And the first answered, "Why, take him, of course!" Suddenly a small
crowd of young boys appeared out of the woods. The oldest looked no
more than sixteen, and the youngest thirteen. I looked around,
bewildered, as they threw a net over my shoulders.

I sputtered and cursed as they drew the net tight. "Unhand me!" I
demanded.

"Ah, ah!" the eldest chided me. "You dared to walk through our woods
at night, and now we have you for our amusement."

"What... what shall you do to me?"

"You'll see. You'll like it." He smiled, and fear gripped my heart.
The fall had stunned me so hard that only now did I realized that none
of the boys wore any clothing. Hair covered their legs from the waists
to their ankles, and those very legs ended not in feet, but in hooves.
Satyrs had taken me. I knew the end of my life approached soon.

"I thought... I thought Satyrs only took women."

"We take what we want," the boy replied. "And tonight, our Master
wants you."

"Your Master?"

"You will see." They hoisted my net between two poles and carried me
through the woods like a stag trapped in a hunt. Which, in a way, they
may have regarded me. We approached an open circle ringed with
torches, and as we approached the winds seemed to die away. I knew
that they controlled the magics of the woods, and here I saw the
evidence.

The circle grew out of the side of a hill, and set into the hill I saw
a throne, covered in shadows. A shape sat in that throne but I could
not see who-- or what-- owned that shape. "Master," the eldest spoke,
"We have brought your prize."

"Good." I expected their master's voice to frighten me, but instead it
did the opposite. I felt warmed by it, reassured by it. And it had a
familiar sound to it as well, as if I knew this Master. "Remove him
from the net."

They lowered the poles and removed the net from about me. The Master
spoke again. "Strip him."

The boyish, youthful satyrs tore my clothes from my body. I felt no
urge to fight them. Instead, I felt curiosity, wonder, reassurance,
and an uncontrollable emergence of lust. "Bring him closer."

They did not have to lead. I walked voluntarily and he noticed this.
"You want," their Master said. "I can see it in your eyes and the way
you hold your body. Good. You will need that. Now kneel before me."

That I would not do. I resisted him. I wanted to have my curiosity
satisfied but not at the cost of my dignity. "Kneel," he repeated, his
voice firm and demanding. The boys grabbed at my arms and my shoulders
and began pushing me down. And although I felt my need to resist him
utterly strong and unquestionable within me, I also felt myself
sinking to my knees. But still I looked up, holding my chin high and
defying him.

I watched him stand and approach me. As his face came into the light I
recognized it and I knew his name. "Thomas." But the same hair that
covered the boys covered him, and instead of feet I saw hooves.
"You... "

"They call me the Lord of Satyrs of Daber Wood." He smiled, his hand
reaching out to stroke my hair. His fingers touched me and I felt the
first touches of his power within me. "And they name me Awrthom. You
may call me that, my beloved Darynn."

I cannot tell you what confusion lived in my heart, Aimee'. For I knew
they should kill me that night; few whom the Satyrs took lived to talk
and those that did keep their secrets close. But at the same time I
knew that I trusted Thomas. He had always treated me well. And the
lust, Oh, Aimee', the lust I felt I cannot describe. It took me over,
it fed me and it burned me.

His legs looked like the trunks of trees under their sheaths of thick,
curly hair. As I looked up I saw his sex, and I will tell you
shamelessly that horses are not so blessed with such enormity, nor
angels with such beauty. To measure it, I saw three hands of length to
it and a thickness that rivaled my wrists. Behind it his sac hung,
full and large. Above that a thick tangle of reddish brown hair
protected his beauty from the cold, and above that I saw his lean,
broad chest and belly. He smiled, his face calm and handsome; no woman
could refuse him, as man or as beast.

His hands stroked his sex and it grew harder under his touch, although
I will not say it grew any longer. "You will take this tonight," he
said, looking down at me. "You know how a woodsman splits wood with a
wedge, Darynn? Look at this engine, Darynn. My boys, they call this
the Boysplitter." He caressed his manhood with a closed fist, running
his hands along the length of that unbelievable shaft, reaching the
end and seemingly twisting as he stroked. "Kiss it, Darynn. Bless this
body. Worship properly and you may learn the secret of living through
the night."

"Thomas..." I gasped, my tongue thick. All I knew instructed me that
what he asked was evil, but I knew that I wanted it. I wanted him. I
wanted him to take me as he wanted to take me.

"Kiss me, Darynn. Kiss my sex. Open your mouth and receive the first
of me."

I knelt, my face upraised, and opened my mouth. He stepped forward,
one small step, and the head of his manhood pressed against my lips.
For the first time I knew the taste of a man and I knew I would again
never find satisfaction in the arms of women only. Hear these words,
Aimee', that our lessons forbid the taste of our own sex with good
reason, for once we have learned it we will never find satisfaction in
half of mankind alone.

His very largeness prevented me from taking all of him. I could not
fit more than the head of his sex into my mouth, but he seemed to take
pleasure from that alone. I had my eyes closed and I did learn worship
at his maleness, tasting him and sucking him. I felt the slick mass of
his sex against my tongue and the power of his maleness there. I
smelled him, his warm, loamy scent, rich and heady, washing over me
with every breath.

"Good little man," Awrthom said as his hands caressed my face. He took
his sex away from my mouth, but I wanted him back, I wanted more. I
cried out with need.

He smiled and directed his boys, "Hold him down," and they did as they
were told. They pulled me forward and laid me across a stump that I
didn't remember seeing when we entered the clearing. The very roots
came to life as they pressed my palms to the darkened soil and very
soon those roots fixed me into place, a part of the still-living but
soon-dying stump they had brought me to.

Awrthom covered my body with his, the enormity of his sex pressing
against my back. My fear rose and threatened to become blind,
unreasoning terror. I had not anticipated his desire to enter me, to
take me. I had thought about it only in esoteric, indistinct terms. I
had not come to grips with his wish to press his sex to my anus, to
push it into me, to fill me and to ruin me. "Thomas..."

"Hush," he whispered into my ear. "You can take this, Darynn, I
believe you can. If you do, if you learn to take my sex and to open
your body and your heart to me at the same time... if you let me
become a part of you and share your part with me, then you will
survive. You have strength within you that no one understands. You
have magic, Darynn. Believe in it."

I did not know what to say. I trusted Awrthom but only as I knew him,
as the human Thomas Cailleac. I felt fingers playing with my buttocks
and between them, caressing my anus with a warm cream. "Butter,"
Awrthom told me. "It will make loving you easier."

My breathing came faster and my head grew light. I knew fear, Aimee'.
And then his legs were between mine, pushing mine apart. He gave me no
preparation, no time to relax. I felt the head of his sex slide
between my greased buttocks, finding my anus and pushing in gently. My
legs trembled and I began crying. Tears squeezed from behind my shut
eyelids. I knew I would die.

He pressed, his strength becoming greater. As his greased rod
penetrated me, ripped into me, I screamed. I knew he had split me. I
knew my life even then drained into him. I felt the head of his sex
penetrate deeper. He plunged further into my guts, Aimee', and I felt
every inch as he did.

I heard his voice at my ear again. "You will not die, Darynn, my
sweetest boy, if you open your heart to me. Come, beloved, feel the
loving strength of my sex within you, joining us. Feel the pleasure of
our joining. Feel the heat of my body."

I did. I felt his chest against my back and his legs against my
buttocks. I felt the throbbing of his manhood deep within my body. I
cried. I wept for all the things I had lost in his ravishment. But
then I felt something else come from deep within me. Maybe it came
from the tip of his sex; they seemed in the same place. That thing
reached my throat and I felt joy within me. I began to laugh. I felt
mirth and freedom, and I heard Awrthom laugh along with me. And then
he pulled his sex from deep within me. I whimpered.

"You want it back?" Awrthom asked me.

"Yes!" I said. "I want it within me."

"Then have it you shall!" he said as he pushed back into me. Then out
again. Then in. His sex rubbed at the opening of my anus and the head
rippled within my guts.

The pleasure took me then. I cannot describe the feelings as he raped
my restrained body, Aimee'. My body trembled at the obscene invasion
of man into man, my legs shook with shock and my eyes filled with
tears, but I laughed and I blessed and I loved Awrthom as he took me
with the force only men can muster. My own sex was hard and rubbed
painfully against the wooden table he took me on. He knew he didn't
have to take care with me and I didn't wish him to.

His body pressed against mine like a force of nature destroying a
mountain. I fought my restraints not to get away but to get at him, to
drag him deeper into me. As he pressed his sex deeper into me and his
chest to my back, I felt us being to merge, to breathe together. I
cannot describe it any other way. We began to fall into each other,
and I felt the meeting place of our bodies in my heart... in our
hearts. It

was more than a joining, more than a mating.

He grabbed my hips and began thrusting madly. I wanted more and I
tried to tell him so but my voice would only make the sounds of
animals. His sex ravished me and my hole burned at his pounding. My
chest rubbed against the wood of the stump. My legs burned and my
wrists ached from my wish for release. I felt possessed by his
enormous manhood and his unquestionable force. He grunted with every
pushing, jabbing thrust that sent a ripple of pain and pleasure along
my back, between and through our bodies. Small gasps escaped his lips,
a chant of "aye, aye, aye," with every thrust and when he screamed his
pleasure I did too. For I felt it. In my heart I felt the coil of his
climax explode and in my body I felt the shooting sperm of his jutting
sex bathing my insides with their magical warmth.

I lifted my hands. Free! They had released me! I turned, but I did not
see him. No one stood in the clearing but me, and I felt I possessed
so much strength, so much fire. The fuel of his sex burned inside my
guts and I needed to get it out. I took to my feet and I began
running, chasing something, but what I don't know. I ran faster,
harder, and then the voices began to surround me, boy's voices. They
appeared on my left and on my right, running with me. My feet sprouted
hooves, and the hair on my legs grew thick and entangled. They led me
now and I followed them. We passed through the woods as so much wind
and reached another clearing, this one holding a large pool of still
water. They all leapt into the water and I leapt with them.

We laughed and we splashed and we joked in a language that I had not
known until that day. We touched and I caressed them and they me. On
the banks of that pool our play dissolved into a long night of play,
of men and of boys and of hands and tongues and shafts and holes. I
never wanted the sun to rise, although I knew it must, and I knew that
I would return to the world of the living.

With this play that lasted for a night's worth of forever I fell
asleep before the crow of the cock. In my belly and in my backside I
held the eruptions of several satyrs, and in several satyrs they held
mine. As I curled up to lay my head on another's leg and sleep claimed
me, I knew...



I awoke in the early morning with a start. Although startled and long
dreaming, I felt fully rested and refreshed. I didn't want to look
under the blanket, but I knew I had to throw it aside and I did. I
still had my feet and the hair on my legs looked the same as ever. I
felt fit, although within my belly I felt warm as well.

I looked at the room and I recognized the windows. Lead, and so I
realized I had spent the night at Thomas's house. As I rubbed my head
in confusion my fingers found a bump, probably from when I had fallen
from my horse.

The door opened and Thomas entered the room. "Darynn? I heard you
shout."

"I had a dream," I said.

He sat on the bed and smiled. "Part of a dream," he assured me, laying
his hand on my thigh. He wore no boots this morning and I could see
his hooves clearly. "You did not dream last night."

"But I still live."

"You learned the secret to living," Awrthom replied. "I need to tell
you something, Darynn. You have inside more power than I have seen in
four centuries. You have a beauty that some of the gods cannot match.
You have a will that you can train to take advantage of both. If I
needed to describe my feelings about you, Darynn, I would say
'smitten.'"

"Last night we committed such evil. Your very existence belies that
evil." I lied to him, Aimee'. Although my upbringing had ground those
words into my head, I did not feel them. I felt only trust and a
growing sense of love for Awrthom, the Lord of the Satyrs of Daber
Wood.

"You know no such thing," he replied. "I only think of action as evil,
not mere existence. Now I have committed what you would call evil in
the past in my search for a boy like yourself. But we Satyrs have
different rules and live by the laws of magic."

"If I told the townspeople they would come here and they would burn
you out and they would try to kill you, Awrthom."

He leaned back, his hands clasped about one knee. "Yes, I suppose they
would. Will you tell them, my beautiful Darynn? Or will you keep this
secret, and return to me as we both will it, and let me teach you of
magic? You have the born skill but no training. You have discipline,
but not in the right talents. Let me teach you, let me show you."

"And the cost?"

"You lived the cost last night. You gave me everything. I would not
dare ask anything more of you but your attention, Darynn." He looked
into my eyes and that presence of lust returned and lived again
between us. "But if you want to share my bed and my pleasure, Darynn,
I will whore for you as no woman could ever give." He smiled as he
spoke.

"Give me privacy, Thomas Callieac."

"Certainly." He rose and left. Now alone I felt comfortable enough to
dress. I gathered my pack and left the room, walking towards the
stables, hoping to avoid Thomas. But he had anticipated my needs and
he brought my horse to me across the stable's open field.

Without a word I took the reins from him and I mounted the saddle.
"Darynn," he said as I turned around to leave. His voice tugged at me,
the pain and the hope so readily near. "Will you tell them?"

I looked back on him and shook me head. "I need time to think,
Awrthom. I... so much has happened."

"You cannot go back unchanged. I cannot undo what I have done."

"I know. I will not tell them."

"Darynn," he said. "I will summon you again, if only to fix my broken
windows and mend my gates and shoe my horses. But I will not mention
the teaching of magic or the loving of men until you do. You must
choose your path, as blacksmith or as mage." He smiled crookedly.
"Goodbye, handsome Darynn."

I did not speak another word to him as I kicked my horse, encouraging
her out of the gates of Cailleac and now, through the Daber Wood by
the safe light of day.

Archmage Darynn leaned back in his chair. Aimee' seemed to almost
squirm in her stool and the effect he thought quite attractive.
"Aimee'?"

"Sir?"

"That ends your first lesson. Sometimes a student's life means sitting
and listening to your teacher rattle off a boring tale."

"Your tale did anything but bore me, sir! I thought at points I might
cry in fear or sadness or even desire in the telling!"

Darynn nodded, a smile crossing his face. "In any event, Teltirray has
heard it before. Or at least read it in the records of the Guild. I
bid you, Aimee', take my story with you and think on it tonight."

"I will sir. Do you dismiss me, then?"

"I bid you goodnight, Aimee', but my students I never merely
'dismiss.'" He grinned.

"Yes sir, I understand." She hopped off the stool and made her way to
the door. Darynn gestured and the lock opened.

"Goodnight, Aimee'."

"Goodnight, Sir Archmage Darynn."




                            AIMEE', CHAPTER 2


Darynn had sworn decades earlier that he would always consider his
life a lesson and himself a student. Although his opportunities to
experiment with the opposite sex numbered beyond his counting he had
never once actually paid any attention to them or their needs. Awrthom
had made him a man of men, in a world of their own without want or
need of women.

Aimee' changed that. She had occupied his thoughts for the entire
week, from the previous Gayobi to the present. In that time he had
done a little asking around, and had learned some things about
Teltirray's tastes that bothered him. According to his friend
Bethsany, the mistress of the local brothel, Teltirray had become more
violent in the last decade, although she had as little idea why as
Darynn did. He found himself hoping that Teltirray's violence didn't
extend to Aimee' and that he wouldn't hurt her in the days between her
lessons. As the hour approached he found himself rubbing his hands
together before the fire and assembling his story for the evening in
his mind.

The knock came at the door none too soon. "Come in," he said,
attempting to make his voice behave in a manner befitting an archmage.
Inside, a corner of his spirit laughed at him; surely he did no better
than any poor boy at his first occasion with a woman! And he, nigh
unto a century old!

The door opened and Aimee' entered. "I have come for my second lesson,
sir, with your permission."

"You have it. No, not the stool again. Come, here, sit by me before
the fire." Nervously the girl crossed the flagstone-and- mortar floor
and then his precious white yeti-fur rug. The rug had been the lesser
of two prizes he had won from a battle with such a creature destroying
many a town to the Northeast. He smiled, remembering the greater
prize; a boy named Darrick.

"Settle yourself against those blue pillows. Right." She sat down, her
body trembling slightly. He looked her over; bruises adorned both of
her arms and one smaller stood out even against the reddish skin of
her chin. Darynn winced and determined further to teach her the arts
of self-preservation and defense as well as those of pleasure.

"If you ever have need to speak, Aimee', do so freely. Now, tonight I
shall tell you my second story and you will do something for me. You
will remove your clothing."

She reached for her tunic instantly. "Wait," he said. "I did not tell
you to remove your clothes. I said you will remove your clothes. I
shall not tell you when."

"Then how will I know when to do so?"

"Aimee', I said you may speak freely, but you will address me as
'sir.'"

"Yes, sir. How will I know when to remove my... my clothes?"

"When you feel ready, Aimee', to take off an article of clothing, I
want you to. But not before then."

Confusion crossed her face as Darynn knew it would. Nobody ever gave
slaves the right to address their own feelings. Instead, slaves
behaved as ordered and came to hear every whim of a superior as an
order. By permitting her access to her own simple desires, Darynn
hoped she would unwittingly open herself to her deeper emotions.
Sometimes boys in his service cried for hours when he did this, and
afterwards the passion from them exceeded even Darynn's fading memory
of his for Awrthom. He lived for those moments.

But did a woman have those same feelings and same methods of bottling
them up and controlling them? Darynn wanted to find out.

"Y... yes, sir."

"Now then, I shall tell you another tale. This one comes from my
learning amidst the Megass, and of one special Megassi named Ryuchia."



In my twentieth year Awrthom called me a man, told me he had no more
to teach me, and bid me go into the world to find my future. I had no
wish to leave, Aimee', for I loved him. Not just physically, although
certainly that phrasing-- "I loved him"-- had certainly come true by
then.

I cried piteously. I wept for myself and I had learned to weep for
him, Aimee', because Satyrs have nothing but themselves and their
passions. Awrthom allowed himself no past, no future, nothing but the
immediacies of his present pleasures. Although I wished to stay in
that Satyric haze for all of my existence, I knew that he and I did
not belong to the same worlds. I needed to seek my destiny elsewhere.

He gave me money. I gave most of it to my parents to help them over my
disappearance. I even had a younger brother by then. I left them in
the worst way possible, I think. I stole out of the house one night
leaving only the money and a note. I think by that time father
suspected something about my relationship with Awrthom, although he
never said a word and I think he trusted my wisdom.

I will not bore you with the details of the travel, Aimee'. Awrthom
sent me on a path into the mountains in search of a city the Megassi
called Hakkana and a Megass named Desa.

I knew little of the Megassi except for legends, Aimee'. I knew that
they had grown from the ranks of Dragonkind by virtue of their
intelligence and their capacity for magic, and I knew that even satyrs
spoke in warm, awestruck whispers at the magic they achieved through
the exercise of their honest lusts.



"Master?" she interrupted him.

"Yes, Aimee?"

"May I remove my boots, sir?"

"Aimee, I told you that you may remove your boots when you feel the
time has come for you to remove your boots, and such with the rest of
your clothes. You do not need to ask me. If you never feel that time
tonight, I understand. I do not want to make any such demand of you.
Understand?"

"I... I think so. Please, sir, do not let me interrupt your story."



As I approached Hakkana I sometimes saw Megassi circling between peaks
in the mountains. The road I walked led through those mountains and,
according to one scrawled sign I passed, across a pass that had
claimed the lives of over a dozen men. The sign, too, warned of
Dragons in those mountains, but I rationed that I had survived capture
and rape and even the love of a satyr. A Dragon could do no worse.

I camped in the hills the day before, and come morning began my ascent
for the pass. I hoped that the Dragons would find me before then. Find
me they did. Two swooped down from the high places in the mountains,
flying over me in great, sweeping passes. Red-scaled and massive,
their wings beat the air as they flew past and the wind they kicked up
blew into my eyes and stung with fierce pain. I had learned magic to
alleviate that pain and so use it, giving myself a chance to stand and
examine my examiners.

[Who are you ?] the first one demanded, his voice shouting in my head
like a great storm.

"I call myself Darynn, as my father named me! Awrthom, Lord of the
Satyrs of Daber Wood has sent me to meet with Desa Megass of Hakkana."

[You have a great many friends,] the one spoke again. [You may pass
unharmed and without tribute unto the gates of our city. But if you
have lied, your suffering will amuse us for days.]

Speaking honestly, I had hoped for a ride. Dragons do not have
kindness as we know it, Aimee.' Ah, I see you smile at my little joke.
And your boots have walked away on their own. Good.

I walked for the day and through the night and near dawn I found the
gates of the great city of Hakkana. I slept there at the base of those
monstrous gates.

A pain in my leg awakened me hours later. "You," the voice said. I
looked up into the face of the first landed Megass I had ever met. The
young of the Megass perform the city duties for their elders, and this
one, barely nine feet long and still unencumbered enough to have full
use of his forearms, apparently served as a guard.

"I... my apologies, my lord Megass. I have come seeking an audience
with Desa Megass."

The Dragon turned his head to me and I saw him smile. "You know
interesting friends if you know of Desa Megass. Very well, we will
show you the way to Desa Megass, young mage."

He led me past the gates and into the city of Hakkana. City? No,
Hakkana covered an entire plain with its construction. The great
beauty of vaulted marble only served to introduce the marvels of
engineering that surrounded me.

The plain apparently sat as an elevated valley surrounded by
mountains.

Most people know only rumors of the growth cycle of the Megassi, but
it's relatively easy to understand. Aimee', have you ever watched a
caterpillar turn into butterfly? You know of the sleeping process
caterpillars undergo? The Megassi have the same sort of growth,
Aimee', only their caterpillar shape resembles our shape, human. Or
elven, I suppose. They built the central city of Hakkana for that
shape; they spend the first fifty years of life shaped in our way.
These young administer the city as it relates to the world; they
perform the roles of merchant and agent to the adult Megassi.

Somewhere in their fifth or, perhaps, late sixth decade, they begin to
undergo the great change. They do not sleep though the change, Aimee';
every day they awake knowing that they have begun to change their
shape, begun to change into Dragonkind. Many move awkwardly at this
time; They have no reason to learn to live with a shape that will not
feel the same tomorrow as it does today. My guard, apparently, had
some control of his faculties. He spoke well, and he moved without
clumsiness.

As I said, the central city is built for the young who are shaped as
Men, but beyond that the buildings grow ever larger and more
impressive, housing as they do the various centuries of the Megassi
Dragons. The architecture is utterly alien; the homes on the plain
look as if they were grown, or like bubbles on the water, but made
from a stone the color of which pleases the owner. The most common
color is white, although some are red, black, green, or yellow. The
mountains that surround the plain are riddled with caves in which
sleep the Great Elders. Very few live that old; most succumb to
disease, or madness. Some to spiritual decay that leaves them lifeless
and suicidal.

I was surprised that the guard led me to the central city. I had
expected Desa Megass to be an elder Dragon, and I inquired of it. "He
is," the guard replied. "But you are to be taken to the center to meet
him."

The great city of domes passed as we walked, and the houses began to
take on more familiar shapes. I saw Megassi young going about their
businesses, cleaning windows and fixing roofs. They waved pleasantly
as we walked; they are not a mysterious people, not the young. They
are as easily understood as you and I.

The guard led me to a circular building, a squat cylinder topped with
a cone roof. The door was made of wood and not large enough to admit
him. He knocked. A Megass youth answered the door. "What may I do for
you, sir?"

"This human claims to know of Desa Megass and would like entry."

The youth looked at me, and I examined him in return. His skin seemed
pliant, but it still looked as a snake's: covered in fine scales and
tinted with a greenish hue. His yellow eyes had vertical slits, much
like a cat's, and they sat in shallow, reflective pools that regarded
me carefully. "Yes, I know of him as well," he said finally. "Admit
him. I thank you, elder sir, for your kindness."

"May your change await you with pleasure," the guard said, leaving me
standing outside the door.

"Come in, come in," the Megass said. "Sit down. I am Kirustan. Desa
will join us in a moment."

I found a seat and examined the room. It seemed as any common home,
although perhaps a little better aired than my own. The construction
was as solid as any Castle, a privilege of its origin. The chairs were
likewise made of stone, and I knew that it would take all my thew just
to move one a few inches.

In the floor there was set a circular staircase leading downwards into
the very rock. From here I heard the sound of approaching footsteps,
and I shall never forget what walked up from that place. It was shaped
as human, but it was of no human origin. The body reflected light as
if made of polished silver. It had no imperfections; indeed in places
it looked too perfect, gleaming and smooth. Its eyes shone with a
strange yellow light. The ears looked elven, wide at the base and
pointed towards the top. As it regarded me it smiled, and the silver
seemed to flow as if it was quickened. "Darynn."

"You... you know me?"

"Indeed I do," the creature replied. "I am Desa Megass, or at least,
what you will see of me." It chuckled deeply. "In good truth, I sleep
many miles from here. My spirit houses this form while the other
sleeps. In here, I cannot do magic, but that is no matter. I find the
world of the children exciting, and the beauty and song I hear here I
weave into the waking magics of my Dragonself." It picked up a stone
chair like a feather and placed it down before me, then sat down. "Now
then, Darynn, tell me what brings you here."

I told him, Aimee'. I told him everything. Of my hopeless love for the
Satyr Awrthom, of the magics he had taught me, of his sending me here.
The tale took over two hours. When I was done, Desa nodded. "You are
what I have been looking for, and I am in Awrthom's debt for the gift
he has sent me."

"Gift?"

"Yes," Desa nodded. "Although I cannot do magic in this shape, Darynn,
I can still teach it. I can still guide students who need learning. I
have a... a failure, I fear. Perhaps you can help me change that."

"Sir?"

"Quiet, Darynn. You are my apprentice now."

I thrilled to hear that, Aimee', to be told by this magical being that
it had accepted me as an apprentice. I glanced to the window where
Kirustan leaned, casually. He grinned at me, as if amused. I wondered
what his role' was in Desa's existence, and if I was staking a claim
to something he felt he already possessed. Nevertheless, he seemed
earnestly pleased to hear of my acceptance.

"Yes, sir."

"I have several apprentices, Darynn. You are to... Kirustan, leave
us."

"Immediately, sir," the young Megass said, taking his leave by the
same staircase Desa had arisen from.

"I am sorry; I do not know of your comfort or concern being a lover of
men and things male, Darynn, and I did not want to embarrass you in
front of my other young apprentice. I should have dismissed him before
you told your tale."

"It is the past, sir, that tale. I am not ashamed of what I am."

"Good," he said. "Because it is, in part, what you are that makes you
so valuable to me. I have an apprentice that I took while he was still
in Manform, thirty years ago. He learned quickly, as I promise you,
you will. His name is Ryuchitoran. I fear he has not long to live.

"Ryu, as I call him, was born with two problems. I have trouble
deciding some days which makes his life more unbearable. The first is
that he, like you, strongly prefers his own sex to that of the other.
This happens from time to time; often there are enough of that kind to
keep each other happy, and they are of no trouble to the rest of us.
At mating time, even with reluctance most of them perform admirably,
and the females among them I suppose hold their noses and wait for it
to be over; the bodily joy of bearing eggs is something even they
admit to liking, even if they dislike the process required to get
there.

"But Ryu has a second, more troubling problem. After his change, it
became obvious. Ryu is a runt."

"Sir?"

"Ryu is growing very slowly. At the present he is only twelve feet
long, and four of that is his tail. This is not a midform, Darynn; Ryu
is all Dragon at this point. But he sleeps with the daily fitfulness
of a youth and he grows but slowly, if at all." Desa fell momentarily
silent, thinking. "My newer apprentices frequently learn the physical
basics from their elder peers. Ryuchitoran is one of my eldest
students, and you will be his first. One of the things every sorcerer
must learn is how to teach, to pass on what he knows. It's time Ryu
learned a skill he will need in his old age, even if he does not
expect to get there.

"But in the process, young Darynn, you must do something else. If
Awrthom did not lie about the size of his manhood, you will not find
Ryuchia threatening. Few, if any, of the older Dragons among his kind
show any interest in him; he is too small, and frequently too
depressed. I ask that you volunteer for this, Darynn: Seduce him. Give
him someone to feel lust for. You will have the tools, and the skills
of sexual magic that Awrthom has given you tell me that you are the
best person to do so. I will visit you often to give you guidance in
your studies. I encourage you to seek your power in the pleasures of
your body." The silver grinned again. "Encourage Ryuchia to assist
you."

He was asking me to become the friend and lover of someone who, as he
admitted, was a dark and depressing soul. But a Dragon soul,
nonetheless. And I had come to Hakkana to learn from him, so I
supposed that would be the price I would bear. Not that I was
completely against his plan, Aimee', for it had been several months
since I had loved, or even touched, another, and I think my youthful
manhood got the better of me. I agreed on the spot, a bit overwhelmed
by lustful images of myself entwined with a Dragon.

"Do you accept?"

I spoke immediately, anxious to move forward. "Sir, I do."

He nodded. "Excellent. Come with me, and I will introduce you to your
new teacher." He stood and led me out into the street.

As he led me out amidst the youthful construction, I marveled at the
sights surrounding me. The city was huge, Aimee', indescribable. I
have seen only one city this large since then, Aimee, and that is
Arisanti. Yes, I have been there.

The low domes and bubbles that were the Megassi homes cast shadows on
one another, and I was to learn that arguments about who possessed the
right to another's heat were vocal and common. Although the circle
wherein the young abounded in trees and bushes, beyond was only plain
red stone upon which their marvelous houses were built.

"This is his," Desa announced, pointing to a dome immediately to our
right. As large as others nearby, it was the brown of a duck's egg,
and it glistened with the sunlight. Desa led me around. "The door is
at an angle to the regular direction of the wind. In that way, a
Dragon may leave his home open and not have wind blow about inside,
but may step out and take wing instantly." We came to a seam in the
side of the dome, a seam that ran up many feet out of sight. He
knocked.

I know not the construction of the Megassi doors, but I would like to
know. Like the wings of a beetle, the doors spread open, making barely
a sound as they did so. "Inside," Desa said.

The smell inside had a slightly stale taste to it. Desa looked at me
curiously. "Describe it."

"Sir?"

"The smell. It's foremost in your expression, young human. Describe it
to me."

I did, including the stale taste and an odd, burning smell, like old
rope set ablaze. He nodded. "Ryu has not been keeping his house in
order." He cupped his mouth with his hands as if to amplify his voice,
and shouted "Ryuchitoran!"

"Master!" As my eyes adjusted from the blazing sun outside to the
darker interior, I began to see details. The center of the house rose
many feet above my head. Along the interior walls platforms circled at
regular intervals, providing many landing spaces for a creature used
to life airborne. A bright circle of light landed on the stone floor
of the dome, indicating an opening at the center of the dome where
Dragons could enter while airborne. From the opposite side of the
dome, two rings up, a Dragon shuffled to the edge, gripped a
cylindrical brass railing and launched himself into the air. His wings
spread wide and he floated down to the central floor. "I am at your
service."

"That is good, Ryu, because my request of you is very difficult. I
have an apprentice that I wish you to train."

"Me? Sir..." I examined Ryuchitoran closely. He was as Desa had
described him; a fully formed Dragon, but only eight feet in height, a
four-foot tail behind him. His scales appeared soft and supple, white
tinged lightly with green, much as I had described Kirustan. His body
was wide in the middle, and his wings spread out at least as long as
his body in each direction. On his tail the fans that helped control
his flight opened and closed reflexively. His face expressed every
feeling, and even I could read them.

"Yes, Ryu."

"When do I meet him, sir?"

Desa's silvered shape turned to me. "Ryuchitoran, this is your junior
apprentice, Darynn. Darynn, this is Ryuchitoran."

"A human?" I was concerned that Ryuchitoran would view me with
disdain, but instead he seemed earnestly pleased to have me as his
apprentice. "Wonderful! But please don't call me Ryuchitoran. All
those syllables get in the way. Ryu is fine."

"Ryu, then," I said, laughing. He was certainly not what I had
expected. "It's still Darynn."

"Of course it is!" Ryu returned to his teacher and said, "What are my
duties, sir?"

"We have provisions for him, Ryu. He needs lodging, however, and
occasionally a translator. He will be learning the basics from us,
although I believe he has a broad knowledge already."

Ryu looked at me. "How long have you been studying?"

"Three years."

"Can you fly?"

"A... A little," I admitted. "I need practice."

"Then your first lesson will be about sleeping," Desa said. "Ryu, you
know where to lodge him."

"Indeed I do," Ryuchia said. "There are six rings to my home, counting
the floor, and you will sleep on the second." I breathed a sigh of
relief; the second ring did not seem so far away. Ryu smiled, showing
his teeth, a sight which I admit frightened me somewhat. "We Dragons
are of the air, and we do not measure our homes the way you do." I
realized his meaning and my gaze moved up to look at the two rings all
the way at the top of the dome. Ryu followed my gaze and nodded.
"Exactly."

"I... I can't make it all the way up there."

"Of course you can," Desa said. "Even I can see that. Ryu, I leave you
with your apprentice and his devices. Darynn, take care. I will see to
you in two days. In the meantime, take your learning from Ryu."

Ryu spread his winds and kicked into the air, circling around his home
until he reached the second ring. "Come on, Darynn. Join me."

I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and remembered what Awrthom had
taught me about flying. I leaned my head back and opened my eyes. My
destination grew closer, and I began to feel the great drag of the
ground as I moved further and further away from it. The ground is
jealous of the bodies that rise from its dust, Aimee', and is not so
giving when we want to leave it.

As the railing grew closer the lift grew easier. I reached out for the
brass rail that was apparently a fixture of each level. On beautiful
metal supports it hung away from the wall, just above the level of the
floor, giving Dragons something to hold.

I climbed over the railing and sat down on the stone of the ring
before realizing that I had not removed my pack. I had managed to fly
maybe five dozens of feet with at least fifty pounds extra on my back.
I felt good. "Is it the air?"

"It is you!" Ryu said, laughing. "You looks so stunned, Darynn. In any
event, this was once my home, when I was a youth and so had a youth's
bed. My father, who used to live in this dome, moved far away, and I
inherited it from him."

It had a bed, although when I pulled the top sheet up dust flew,
making me cough. "Sorry," Ryu said. "I haven't had time to really
clean this place the way it should."

"I'll manage. Where might I find a broom?"

"Fourth ring," Ryu replied, grinning. "Over there." He gestured with a
wing, and a beam of light shot from a wingtip to indicate the broom.

I surprised myself again by retrieving the broom and returning to the
second ring, although by that time I was worn out and quite sure that
I was done with flying for the day. "What brings you to Hakkana,
Darynn?"

"I was sent to find Desa at the request of my former master, who had
taught me all he could."

Ryu's head tilted slightly, as if confused. "You sound sad when you
say that."

"Do I?" I asked. "I was not measuring my love for him on the basis of
his teaching. His sending me away hurt a great deal. Moreso than that
I left my parents, for they would not understand the son he returned
to them."

"What is your teaching, then?"

I tried to think of a big word for what I was, something ostentatious.
But I could not, and eventually I told the truth. "Sex magic."

Ryu didn't laugh at me as I expected. No, he took me quite seriously.
"I thought that was difficult for male humans to learn. Not enough
partners to practice with or something."

"It can be," I said. "There are exceptions."

Ryu nodded and didn't press the matter. "I'll leave you to clean up
your room. If you desire privacy, there are sheets that can be hung
from the hangers that ring this room and the next. I used the room to
the right for ritual research."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"Thank you for being welcome in my home," Ryu said earnestly. "I'll
check on you in a while." He stepped off the edge of the ring and
vanished, apparently dropping like a stone. I heard a soft 'thwap' of
his wing as he landed on the ring where he slept now.



Days and weeks passed by like flashes, Aimee'. I cannot describe the
next six months because they are entirely a blur. My skill as a
metalsmith garnered me much respect, and Desa suggested I direct at
least some of my magical skill in that direction as well. It was
probably the most propitious decision I ever made, because the
resulting tools I constructed out of alloys of silver and steel
accelerated the outpouring of power I could achieve in short times. My
nature became more obvious as I crafted my staff, tipped as it was
with obvious phallicism. More importantly, the actual working spindles
and dildos, made of various alchemical woods, enabled me to reach
heights I had never thought possible.

The only aspect of this I have any pride in, however, is my sense. I
did not, I don't believe, ever aspire to more power for evil reasons.
My desires were pure. I wanted to be a mage; I wanted to be the best.
More than once I had an opportunity to grow faster, but at the expense
of either Ryuchitoran or Kirustan or another apprentice, and those I
would not do.

As the months rolled by, I began to feel the immense sadness that was
a part of Ryuchitoran. My senses were being honed by the exercises
Desa gave me, and more importantly, they were being honed outwards. A
sex mage learns to feel his insides, learns to know every inch of
himself and what one should apply where to make those feelings grow
and manifest themselves. But Desa had no interest in an apprentice who
couldn't see, Aimee', and so forced me into physical exercises to
maintain my strength but also to make me aware of the world about me.
That is why he began teaching me combat.

Those were interesting times, Aimee', to have youthful Dragonkin, man
shaped, fighting me. Hand to hand, with sticks, and then with swords,
I learned how to see my opponent, how to hear him and how to smell
him. Six months is not a long time, but it was enough to make me aware
of Ryu.

The cheerfulness was facade', Aimee', for inside he was truly hurting.
His rejection at the hands of his peers was often more than he could
bear, and I would hear him sob in the night, whether as a way to sleep
or something from his dreams, I did not know. In the six months I
spent with him, rarely did he have Dragon visitors. Once, Desa came to
visit us in his full dracoform, and the difference between the two of
them was bewildering. Desa was fully three times as broad and four
long compared to Ryu. I started to understand Ryu's pain. None of his
visitors was evidently a lover.

It was in the eighth month, as the snows began to lighten up and the
sun returned more often, that I asked Desa permission to study beyond
my ken.

"What are you seeking?" he asked.

"I want to research the library to learn how to look at the origin of
a creature."

Desa looked understandably concerned. "The alchemy of life is one of
the most difficult sciences known, young Darynn. What are you
seeking?"

"I want to know what makes a creature large or small."

He nodded. "His tears get to you, too."

"I can bear it, sir, but not forever. He will die without help."

"And you think you can help him."

"I can look for an answer."

Desa paused, thinking. "Very well. I want to know every detail of your
research. In this science, if you cast even a cantrip I want to know
about it. Understand?"

I nodded.



Four months more before I could take it no more. From my sleep the
sounds of crying roused me. You have never heard a Dragon cry, Aimee',
but describing it is beyond me. It's a great roaring sound,
unmistakable in its sadness and unbelievable in its depth. I threw
aside my bedclothes and leapt off the edge of the ring, flying down
one ring level to Ryu's sleeping dish. A bowl, set into the material
of the ring and layered in cushions, provided him a comfortable bed.

I dropped to my knees. "Ryu," I said softly. It was drowned out in the
crying. "Ryu," I repeated louder. Finally I reached out and touched
him. "Ryu!"

[WHAT?] That voice punched into my soul with incredible power,
stunning me and tossing me back against the floor. "Darynn!"

Weakly, I managed to say, "Hi... Ryu."

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"You..." I sat up and brushed myself off. "You were crying, and it
wouldn't let me sleep." I assessed myself. I was still intact.

He looked away. "I'm sorry if my dreams bother you."

I leaned over and touched his wing. "I just wanted to know if there's
anything I can do?"

He looked up at me, his eyes still wet from the crying. "You're an
invert too, aren't you, among your kind?"

"It took you this long to figure it out?" I asked.

"The ways of humans are still strange, but I don't want to be
insulting. What are you... " Imagination is not the most disciplined
part of us, Aimee'. I'm afraid that staring at him, in his bed,
conjured up those dreams and pictures I had not had in nearly a year.
"Do you really look at me that way?"

Understand, Aimee', that Ryu had never intentionally invaded my
imagination. I am simply most obvious in my imaginings when they are
erotic, and he is apparently at his most undisciplined when he has
just woken up. Together the combination was the undoing of my secrecy.
I had to say something. "Yes. Sometimes."

"I..." He paused again. "I don't know what to say. Is it physical, or
are you really attracted to me?"

"Physically, I am attracted to Dragons, and you in particular, because
with you my fantasies are most possible. Emotionally... Ryu, you have
been very kind to me, and have tried hard to hide your suffering. I do
feel for you, and I would like to help you. I think of you as a
wonderful friend."

"But you couldn't... love me."

I smiled and stroked his wing slowly. "Ryu, sometimes I forget that
you are three times my elder when you have moments like this. I could
love you. It wouldn't last forever, because you are a Dragon and I am
human and eventually we will be on our different paths to different
worlds."

"But... you really think you could love me?"

"Sometimes I think I already do." That came out of my mouth so fast I
didn't have time to stop it. I controlled my own surprise and
continued calmly, "I only think. It takes more than one-sided lust to
make love happen."

He didn't move for a moment, then nodded his prodigious head slowly.
"It wouldn't work anyway," he said. "You humans have that mouth thing
we Dragons could never do."

"There is a lot more to loving than kisses, Ryu." I decided the time
to be bold had come. I eased into his sleeping bowl and slid down to
lie next to his body. "There is touching." I began to caress his
impressive chest slowly. His hide wasn't nearly as hard and thick as I
had feared, and it was apparently just as sensitive to touch as my
own. The sounds from his throat would have been threatening if I
hadn't been able to feel the pleasure coming from him.

I decided on what is, perhaps, the most common seduction there is. I
gave him a massage. He cooed softly as I worked. I had plenty of
experience in this range, since Thomas had been such a demanding
master sometimes when it came to his own pleasure.

I learned a great deal about the outside bodies of Dragons. I did not
use any of the cantrips Desa had warned me about, learning instead
simply by touch, feel, and sense. At times he would shift in his bed
in response to my touch. His strength excited me. Through my
bedclothes my erection was plainly visible, and I knew he could feel
it when I leaned over.

He never said a word, and by the time I had eased all the tension out
of him from his dreams and probably the fear of what I offered, he had
drifted off to solid sleep. Exhausted by my efforts, I realized that I
had made one of the cardinal errors of magic; I had used everything in
relaxing him. I was too tired to fly back to my own bed.

There was nothing to be done. I curled up next to him and fell asleep.
We both slept soundly. When I awoke, he had left me alone, but he had
also left me to sleep well past sunrise. For that, at least, I thanked
him.



My studies progressed another year. That sounds like a long jump,
perhaps, but nothing much happened in between. After that evening
neither Ryu nor I mentioned the incident to one another. Ryu didn't
keep his feelings quite so trapped within, and I saw the blackness
more clearly and more often, but he also seemed to accept it far
better.

Instead, I concentrated on my studies, spending six hours every
morning studying magic until my brain hurt and then working the
afternoons away either in the smithy or the gymnasium. I began
researching my own spell base. Do you know what a spell base is,
Aimee'? No?

A spell base is a basic spell idea from which one may weave variants
dependent upon one's knowledge and talent. There is a classic spell
base called, simply, "Pain." Alone, it does little; causes an itch. A
little additional skill, and it can cause great discomfort. With the
knowledge base that comes from being a full mage, one can use it to
kill with some effort, although it is an uncomfortable way to die and
there are more efficient ways to kill someone magically, like "Sleep"
and a slitting of throats.

I was surprised to find that nobody had ever thought to create a base
for "Pleasure." Bases are very simple to use, but hard to construct. I
was determined to figure out the base for pleasure. I took notes
obsessively. And, to be honest, when it was discovered among the
man-shaped males of the Megassi what I was, a few were willing to help
my experiments.

The other major thrust of my research was to be able to construct a
method for visualizing that which shapes a being. I reasoned, and
found confirmation, that all things that live grow into their shape by
some unseen mechanism. I was determined to find a tool for visualizing
that mechanism.

I found it. Not unsurprisingly, someone else had discovered it first
for the creation of golems of flesh, although the technique as I read
it was very crude. I refined it.

That is an understatement. When I found it I completely dropped
everything else. Only Desa's threats kept me in the gymnasium and the
smithy. Males who knew my pleasures sent me letters that I left
unopened. I burned for nearly four months, and when I was ready, Desa
watched as I cast the spell for the first time. On myself.

Oh, we are such complex creatures, Aimee'! Even the keys with which we
are made go on forever and are indescribable but in the spinning bands
of blue, red, green, and gold that really do describe what we are. Or
at least, what our shape would be. I spent so long examining what I
was, realizing what I could be with this change or that, that when I
was done the sun had set and my body had gone into such complete
revolt over the indignity of ritual penetration combined with
prolonged neglect. I spent the rest of the night on the garderobe,
Desa standing outside and grilling me about my results until dawn.

My research accelerated after that. I discovered I was forging a new
kind of magic, a predictive magic that was based on mechanical
processes, not temporal ones. The fundamental elements were
alchemical, of course, but ultimately it became a purely spiritual
engine that allowed me to make a single change, and then change after
change after change until I got what I wanted.

It was something of a shock when I realized, suddenly, that I had
gotten away from the erotic sciences. I had been too busy taking apart
the body to appreciate it. Have you ever been hit on the chin, Aimee'?
I swear to you, that is how it felt. I suddenly spent an entire day
addressing old friends, diving into a sort of blind, erotic haze,
unable to think about work because I could think of nothing else but
the males I had neglected.

I took control of myself the next day. I wrote down my thoughts on the
bodily experimentation as much as I could, then turned my attention
back to Pleasure. I think that's my one greatest failure, that I can
never pay attention to one project at a time. I constantly change back
and forth.

I received permission from Desa to take two weeks off from the smithy,
but not exercise. I spent those two weeks catching up with every male
I knew who was amenable to my caresses, and in two weeks I had
finished a unified base for spells of Pleasure.

I documented my spell base comprehensively and mailed it to here, to
Barraminum and the College of Mages. Over a year would pass before I
heard the reply.

As I crawled into my bed one night, however, a voice from the edge of
the ring interrupted my desire to sleep. "Darynn?"

"Ryu? Hi."

"Hi yourself. You have been gone a long time."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I just completed a fully functional spell base,
and I decided to turn it into the College of Mages for acceptance."

"That's quite an achievement." He was quiet for a moment, then said,
"Darynn, why is it you have never asked me to help you test those
spells?"

"I... " I was caught. I had wanted to practice with him, but knowing
him as I did I had never felt comfortable approaching him. I wondered
if I could bluff my way through this encounter. "Desa said I wasn't to
practice on someone without his permission."

"That was the animal alchemy, Darynn. His warnings were not related to
the base you created."

"But... you are my host, Ryu. What if I did use them on you? What
obligations would we have? What about addiction..."

"Is that your concern? That I might become addicted to the pleasures
you could give me without your hands? Only if you used them on me with
regularity, and then only if they surpassed the pleasures you could
inflict on me with your hands. Which is something you've never tried
anyway."

Almost two years had passed since I had made my promise to Desa that I
would seduce and love Ryuchitoran. I wanted to, Aimee', truly I did.
For some reason I felt reluctance, an inertia to begin. I did not know
what I was getting into. "Ryu..."

"You said once you could love me, but you've never said anything to me
about it since."

The truth welled up out of me then, although I managed to squelch it
almost into silence. Sometimes I curse that Dragons have such good
ears. Sometimes I bless it. "You never gave me an answer."

"What?" he asked, not hearing.

"I said you never gave me an answer."

"I didn't know there was a question."

"Ryu..." I sighed. "If we were to... love... would you understand when
I returned to the world of men?"

"Yes." His word was as simple as that, and as convincing. I reached
out my hand and beckoned him to come to me.

The bed had been made for his changeling days, and as he flopped into
it, it creaked painfully but did not crack, and although his tail
draped over the side he easily fit all the rest of him beside me. His
large head lay down next to mine on the pillows. "I don't know what to
do from here," he said.

"I remember touching," I replied. I reached out and stroked his broad
chest, feeling the scales sliding under my fingertips, feeling the
caress of his skin. Dragons have hearts, despite the legends, and I
could hear his beating. His breath, hot and musky, poured over me as
he watched my hands relearn the feel of his body.

People don't believe me when I say that Dragons, if they have any
relation to other animals, are more like the centaurids than
humanoids. It must be so because Dragons have six limbs. They have
standing legs, flying wings, and holding arms, although in full
Dracoform these arms end in three-fingered hands that require close
care to keep the nails short enough for them to handle anything.

My dreams and fantasies roiled in my head and I wondered how many of
them I could fulfill in one night. "If I touch you here with my
finger," I said, caressing the underside of his chin and neck, "and
then do it again with my lips, do you feel anything different?"

"Yes," he gasped. "Your lips are strange... warmer, softer. They're
wet. I feel that."

"I do too." As we lay side-by-side, I realized that describing him as
eight feet tall is a misdirection. He is only two feet taller than I,
but all of that body is from his collar to his groin. We were grossly
disproportionate. Yet I was determined to love him, to really take him
for my own, for this night.

"Would you like me to try a spell on you?" I asked.

"Please," he whispered, brushing at my hair with one of his well-
trimmed three-fingered hands.

"Roll onto your back, Ryu." He did as I said, and I crawled on top of
his chest, sitting on him. I closed my eyes and concentrated, calling
forth the spell I knew better than anyone else. I thought about the
base, felt it settle in my body as I had envisioned it, mostly as if
it were cradled within my hips. I felt my erection grow, and I mouthed
quietly the invocation.

I opened my eyes and looked down at him. His own eyes had widened and
his breathing had become loud. "Darynn..." I turned around and what I
saw made me smile. His own cock had grown out of the hiding slit on
his body and come to full length. Looking at it, I breathed a sigh of
relief. Desa has spoken true; he was actually smaller than Thomas, and
by a good bit! I was to learn that Dragons are not so largely blessed
as Humans who, pound-for-pound, have some of the largest sexes amongst
mammals.

The shape was different, as was the color. Against his white hide, his
cock was a brilliant, visible black. The head was covered in wrinkles,
but fortunately it was not barbed like a feline's. I slid down his
body, grateful that the simplest of my spells, "Stroke," had brought
my prize out from concealment. "Beautiful," I said, smiling up at him.
I took it in my hand and began to stoke it slowly, manually this time.
The skin on it was very loose and moved easily. "May I kiss it?"

"Do... whatever... you want!"

I looked up the long length of my Dragonfriend and smiled. "I think I
will do just that." I lay on his body casually as I craned my neck
forward and took the head of his cock into my mouth.

He tasted like... it's hard to describe. Perhaps the best idea I can
think of is fresh paper. After it has been milled, paper has a scent
to it that carries for a while. It was that kind of scent.

But he tasted of flesh, and nothing more. Nothing less either, I might
add. I took more into my mouth, revelling in the control I exercised
as I swallowed his cock whole. It pulsed in the back of my throat. I
planted both hands against his sides and began to slide up and down,
my eyes closed, my throat grasping for his cock. He was beautiful,
Aimee', and just to feel his sex down inside my throat was fulfillment
of a dream. The size of a Dragon's sex was a blessing to me but it
means nature was cruel to Dragons, for they mate in flight, and must
be joined only briefly. Unlike their young, Dragons climax quickly,
violently, and, I will add, voluminously. Ryu's back arched so
strongly I was almost launched into the air as his cock pulsed long,
thick jets of fluid into my mouth. He roared so loudly I was afraid
the dome would crack. I held on for dear life. I choked; unwisely, I
had assumed that since I could take whatever Thomas could feed me I
could do the same for Ryu, but he had so much more than a human.

"Darynn?" I recall him saying after his eruption had subsided. "Are
you well?"

I gasped, coughed, hacked, and finally managed to say "I will live,
Ryuchia."

"That was not my question."

"I was surprised. I could not take all of your ejaculation. I need a
towel. May I?"

"If you need it, do not let me stop you from getting it. Go!"

I nodded and rose, still feeling a little dizzy, and recovered a
towel. I wiped myself off, and then returned to bed, still coughing
into the towel at intervals. I wiped Ryu off as well.

I lay down next to him. "I take it my spell worked?"

"The spell was only the beginning!" Ryu replied, giving me a Dragon's
smile. Already his beard was coming in, and I tugged on it softly at
the base of his broad muzzle. "You were wonderful, Darynn."

"All the benefits of good teachers. And the best of friends."

"You sound... sad, Darynn."

I rested my head against his chest, listening. "I... I miss Awrthom. I
am not ashamed of that. He loved me, and as a master he left nothing
to be desired. I'm afraid that here in Hakkana I am often viewed as
the master myself, because of my skill and spell ability."

"You need someone to... master you?" he asked, puzzled.

I stroked his muzzle softly. Appreciate how big he was, Aimee, when I
tell you that his muzzle was as long as my palm and fingers, and as
wide, and as thick as two hands stuck together. "No," I said, shaking
my head. "Not as I needed Awrthom, or as I wanted him."

"Then... is there anything I can do for you, Darynn?"

I thought about my needs, my desires, and my capacities. I debated
telling him the truth. Thus far lying had availed me naught. "Ryu, I
need to taken. Ravished. I need... " I paused for a second, then found
the words I wanted. "Ryuchitoran... would you sodomize me?"

He chuckled softly; the sound reminded me that, although we both
thought of ourselves as youths, this dragon was of the same age as my
father. "Yes, Darynn. When I have recovered."

I closed my eyes and concentrated, feeling the spell base for Pleasure
return to me. There were spells I knew for potency, recovery, and
strength. I whispered them quietly as I cuddled next to Ryu, and then
followed them with the spell that had elicited an erection from him
before. I felt his sex against my calf as I lay next to him. "Are you
recovered?"

"You are so impatient, Darynn," he laughed. "I am recovered. How shall
we do this?"

I rose out of bed and walked into the next room, returning with the
grease I used to make my self-penetrating rituals easier. "With this,"
I said, slathering some along the length of his cock. I stroked him
with my hands, watching the white grease soak into the folds of his
wrinkled skin and dissolve with the heat of his body.

I lay down beside him, my back against his belly, and squirmed down
until I felt his shaft against my buttocks. I reached behind me and
grabbed it, aiming for my anus. It had been a long time since anyone
had been within me, and I wasn't sure if entry of a living being would
be as easy as I remembered, no matter how large my dildi. That's one
thing I've learned... wooden phalli are not even fair practice for the
real thing. I moved down further and pressed my buttocks back against
his shaft. I felt the ring of my anus part, spread open, as his cock
eased into me. I felt the head ease along the short anal canal and pop
into me. More moved within me; the sensation of it sliding past my
hole was blissfully wrenching. But I wanted more, Aimee'. I didn't
want gentleness. The time for gentleness had passed. I needed him to
be brutal to me.

"Darynn..." he gasped as the head of his cock slid deep into my guts.
"Oh, Darynn!"

"Yes, Ryu," I sighed. "More..."

"What... what more do you want?" he asked.

I closed my eyes. I had time for one more spell. Just one more. I
began casting it, holding off on the last word of the spell. I held
that word in my heart, because I knew its power. "Ryu... Roll us over,
onto our bellies. Lie atop me, and... take me."

"Darynn... "

"Be rough, Ryu. Be a Dragon. Take me. Claim me."

I felt something like anger flare within him as he pushed over. As I
fell face-first to the bed, he nearly came out, but only nearly. Then
he pushed himself into me again. I felt his cock shove deeply into me,
and I felt his hot hide against my buttocks and I knew he had all of
himself within me. A felt a rhythmic beating begin in the air about us
and knew he had extended his wings. I heard the bed creak as he
withdrew his cock from my anus, and then pushed it back in. He roared
a challenge to me: "Is this what you want, Darynn?"

His chest pushed my head against the mattress. I could not answer, nor
could I breathe. Nor did I care. His body pounded against mine; the
entire bed groaned under the beating weight of a Dragon in the grips
of heated blood. His shaft made a mockery of my claims to endurance,
and I found myself gasping and loving him as he did so. As he
plundered me all the more, his wings took up more of his weight and I
could again breathe, my head swimming. I could take no more, and he
was straining. I said the last word of the spell.

It did not end! Aimee', his loving did not end then! He continued on
for another full minute before finally roaring his climax, louder than
before, stronger than before! I never dreamed of what I had unleashed
in Ryuchia as he loved me that night, Aimee'! Unbelievable.

He fell, literally fell, out of the air. I barely rolled free of his
falling weight. His breath came in panting, puffing intervals. His
eyes were shut tight. "Oh, Darynn, oh, Darynn," he repeated over and
over.

I grabbed the towel we had been using and wiped my buttocks. I was not
surprised to find blood, but with a simple spell Awrthom had taught me
I found that, as usual, I would survive and be well come the dawn.
"Ryu?"

"Darynn!" he gasped. "I've never... I cannot..."

"Hush," I said, touching his chin again and kissing him on his beard.
"You need to sleep."

"I... Yes. You do too."

"May I sleep with you?" I asked.

"You may not have much of a choice," he breathed. "I am too tired to
fly back to my bowl. May I use your bed tonight?"

"With my complete acceptance, beloved Ryuchitoran."

"'Beloved.' I like that. Thank you."

"Sleep, Ryu. We will talk tomorrow."

"Yes. Yes, we will, Darynn." He drifted off to sleep, and I joined him
thereafter.



Darynn looked up at the clock and swore softly. "Aimee', my telling
has taken far longer than I had planned, and we will have to finish
this story some other day." He looked at her closely. She had removed
all of her clothing but the tunic she had first so casually tried to
doff. She had removed her boots first, and now her pants and
undergarments were gone as well.

"Aimee'? You have not removed your tunic?"

"I... " She looked up, confused. "I did not know when I should. It..."
She began crying. "I did not know..." Tears began falling from her
eyes. Darynn pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her fragile
form. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry."

"You have done nothing wrong, Aimee'. Do not apologize for lacking in
harm."

She looked up into his face, tears streaking her cheeks. "But... you
wanted me to be naked by now, did you not?"

"Aimee, if you had felt it wrong to take off even your boots, I would
not have berated you. You have done exactly as I asked, and there is
nothing to be ashamed of in that."

"Sir," she moaned pitifully. "Teltirray wants to know when I will
begin learning spells from you."

"Next week," Darynn said calmly. "I had planned to do some beginnings
here, but we will start next week." He held her close, feeling her
warmth next to his. He felt protective of her, an understandable
reaction considering his feelings towards the man really "owned" her,
contract or not. "Now, tell me something. You exposed all of yourself
but your torso. Would you like me to guess as to why?"

She looked up at him. He caressed a small streak of tears away. She
nodded.

"Teltirray, your master, has taken everything from you. You have no
privacy in where you go, so your boots are no matter. He takes your
sex at his leisure, so your pants are no matter. You learn what he
wants you to learn, so your headcloth is of no matter. He has not got
your heart, and you want that kept to yourself. So you wear your tunic
as one would wear armor."

She stared at his face, and then squeezed her eyes tight as her crying
came again, stronger than before. The tears told him he had judged
correctly. He felt no victory at that. She gathered the material of
his robe in her fingers and gripped tightly. He wrapped his arms
around her, but she pushed away suddenly, grabbing at her tunic and
pulling it off with an expression that could only have been a snarl,
then looked at him, smiling through her wet face.

He smiled back down at her, holding her as she placed her head against
his shoulder and closed her eyes. He knew what was happening. She had
decided that he, at least, should be allowed to know her heart, if
only for the moment. He thanked her silently for that.

He drew a deep breath, regretting what must come next. "Aimee', I
cannot keep you here."

"I know, sir. I must return to Teltirray."

"Are you afraid?"

She looked up at him. "You know, then. You cannot protect me. So I am
not afraid. I have nothing to fear. What will happen, will happen."

Darynn was stunned by the maturity with which she approached a dismal
future. "Aimee', you will return next week?"

"With your permission, sir."

"That you have."

"Then I will return." She stood up slowly. "I guess I should dress
now."

"Yes," Darynn nodded. He watched her as she pulled her clothing on,
first her tunic, then her pants, and her headcloth and boots finally.
He found her truly beautiful in her youthfulness, and he feared that
she wouldn't live long enough for him to teach her anything of use.
That would be a tragedy, and he would not allow it to happen.

"Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Aimee'." He waved as she closed the door behind herself.
In his heart, resolution became real. Teltirray would not have her
forever.

He was shocked at his own feelings. Was he leaving the world of men
behind, or was his own merely getting larger? He had never had these
feelings for a woman before, especially not one so immature as Aimee'.


Whatever their origin, they were his emotions and they were real. He
would do with them what he could. He would teach Aimee'. He sat down
at his desk and began making notes.

--
Aimee'
is copyright 1991-1994 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. May be distributed
freely by electronic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings
for personal use.
                            AIMEE', CHAPTER 3


Darynn walked through the room again, his robes still flowing behind
him. Everything seemed to be in order, just as it had a week ago. He
was concerned with every detail of the room's appearance; he wanted to
put his young student completely at ease.

Not, he thought grimly, that that could ever be fully achieved. In his
head he reviewed the note Bethsany had sent him describing what she
had learned this week of the situation amidst Teltirray's "girls." He
knew now that the original report of Teltirray's behavior was only a
weak shadow of a truly abusive nature. And yet, the man could be so
convincing in court, so calm in council. At induction services they
would sit nearly opposite one another at the horseshoe- shaped council
chamber. Perhaps what bothered Darynn most is that more often than not
he agreed with the direction Teltirray took his discussions.

He sighed. Teltirray was not by any imagination a friend. In person he
was frequently cold to Darynn and his associates, although charming
when he needed a vote or two. Darynn knew the chill arose from
Teltirray's too-familiar "disgust" at the male-to-male love Darynn was
fond of.

Darynn stoked the fireplace one last time; late fall chill soaked
through his home, chewing up the warmth of summers, lovers, and the
presence of Aimee'. He waited for her to arrive, knowing that it would
be soon.

He was glad that she was not permitted to walk right in; the relief on
his face would have been inappropriate for her to see, and he wanted
to present himself to her as an elder, fully in control. "Enter
freely," he said.

Her face peeked out around the door. "Sir?"

"Come in, Aimee'. We are going to learn tonight."

"Sir? After you finish your story?"

Darynn smiled. "Sort of. We are going to start during the story,
Aimee'. Come sit, like before." She settled down onto the white rug,
her slim hand caressing the material as she did so. "We are going to
play the same game as before. You are to remove your clothing as you
see fit. You do remember that?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir, I remember."

"Good. Now then, if you will pull back the red sheet of cloth by your
side you will find an array of phalli and such. I have noticed that at
times you get breathless while I speak and I appreciate that. I want
you, Aimee', to enjoy yourself. To touch yourself." He reached beside
himself and opened a book to a certain page, examining only the
caption in the upper corner. "Now, when you feel your pleasure rising,
I want you to examine this picture closely. I want you to try and see
it as if it were before you, an object and not a page. Breathe through
your pleasure and open yourself. I am not being clear on purpose,
Aimee', but I wish you to do this. Can you?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. I will."

"Good. Now, as I was saying last time..."



I spent many more months with the Hakkana. Ryu and I become bedmates,
although that perhaps sounds more physical than it really was. We
rarely made love, Aimee', although when we did I found the pleasure
greater than any other offered to me in all the city. I think part of
the reason for that was that I loved Ryu and not the others, although
they were certainly friends and I did not discredit their worth when
they lay in bed with me.

My studies continued apace until I realized one day, while examining
my journals, just how greatly my skill in spell had grown. I could
Heal and cause to Sleep. I could bring suffering to the evil and
health to the good. I had learned to control my desires and answer my
pains.

Although I was not the strength you see before you, Desa surprised me
one day by calling on me and addressing me as "Mage Darynn."

"Yes sir?" I will admit, I nearly fell off my chair to hear myself
addressed as such.

"Your learning has slowed." He raised a hand as I opened my mouth to
object. "This is nothing of your own doing. We all know this to be
true, Darynn, that every mage's learning slows at one point. While
there is much to be gained here, you can learn at your current pace
anywhere, and I would urge you to find your way back to your own
people. I have a gift for you."

I was still completely taken with his address, much less his short
speech. He handed me a bone case, one used for scrolls. "It is
addressed to me, from the College of Mages in Barraminum. I have
decided that you should see it in its entirety."



Maga Desa of the Megassi.

It is with some disbelief that we read the scroll we have received
from you. You claim to have had no influence in the creation of the
spell base we found within, copied several times with accuracy. After
examining the base we found it difficult, but not impossible, to work
with; the complexity achieved is truly an act of art, perhaps even
passion.

That an apprentice of yours, indeed one not even in his thirtieth
year, created this is no small feat. It is not that we doubt you,
Desa; your honesty and worthiness are well known, even here in
Barraminum.

We wish to meet this apprentice. Although the purpose of base spell
"Pleasure" is, in our council, of little use, the skill with which it
is executed shows us that this young mage could well and truly be
taught to join our college without sponsor or patron. We wish him for
ourselves.

In magi honor,

Talen Silisto, President.

Mage Council of the Known World.



My first emotion, Aimee', believe it or not, was one of stark anger. I
looked up at Desa and said "Of little use?"

"Easy, Darynn," he said, laughing. "I just wanted to show you this.
Remember that pleasure is not greatly thought of in the mages' realm,
and even when it is, it is considered a dangerous toy. Although you
and I both know that pain can be as addictive as pleasure, it is
pleasure they are most afraid of." He shrugged. "I know why as little
as you."

"And these are the people you want to send me to?"

"Darynn, they are your people. They know you better than you know
yourself; you cannot live here all your life, young mage."

I sighed, wondering what I was going to do with Ryu. Desa understood
without my saying a word, but I didn't know it at the time. I started
to learn when he said, "I know you have been aching to try your spells
on Ryuchia. I encourage you to do so, Darynn, if Ryu is willing. I
wish to watch; just me. I do not imagine you wishing an audience upon
yourselves."

I shook my head, still absorbing everything I had been told in the
past ten minutes. I was being offered a free scholarship at the
College of Mages, although they considered my work "of little use." I
was also being asked to leave. And to do what I had sworn a year
before I would do; save Ryu from his dwarf status amongst his peers.

"I..."

"Go home, Darynn, to your friend. Discuss it. Let me know in the
morning. Take the letter with you." With that, the animated man of
silver wandered down into the darkness of his lair.

I flew back to Ryu's house at all speed. I do not fly often now, nor
did I then; but this simply could not wait for the rate at which my
feet carry me. I flew in from the top and found him sleeping in his
bowl, curled up in a ball and snoring peacefully. I landed on the
stone silently and approached him. "Ryu," I breathed.

[Darynn?] he asked silently, not coming very far from his slumber to
speak to me.

"I... I think I'm going to be going soon."

He came to wakefulness fast then. [What do you mean?]

"I've been offered a full scholarship at Barraminum. Desa has told me
that he's done all he can to accelerate my learning. I am to my own
devices now. He wants to send me to Barraminum to learn the magics of
humans. Like Awrthom, he has reached his limits."

He switched to speech then. "Do you want to go?"

I nodded. "I... I do. But, before I go, I want to do one last thing
with you, Ryu. I want to cast the Bodily Keys upon you and see if I
can help you grow to the full cast that is your Dragon birthright."

He stared at me, stunned. "You can do that?"

I resolved to sound like a mage, Aimee'. I'm afraid I didn't succeed.
I said, "I can try."

He thought for a full minute. "Then try, Ryu. What must I do?"

"It is more, what I must do to cast this spell on another, Ryu. You
know from where I draw my strength. We will need that. To have any
success we must be loving when I cast the spell."

He tossed his head and chuckled. "Oh, Darynn, you will do anything to
get one more moment out of me!"

I threw my arms around his neck and said, "Yes, Ryu. Because I will
miss you. I can live without you, but I will not be happy doing so."

His wing slid easily around me, enclosing me against his body. "I have
learned from you, Darynn, how to find peace. Let us do this, and
whether we succeed or fail, we will never forget one another."

"Let us hope," I said.



I built a great frame, knitting a net with my hands strong enough to
hold a Dragon. This alone took two weeks. Sliding it into the center
of Ryu's home, I began enscribing the runes necessary to support the
spell. They took another day, and when they were done I slept for many
hours more. Then I asked Desa and Ryu to attend me at moonrise. They
agreed.

Ryu arrived early. "That is for me?"

"It is. You must lie on your back within it. I hope you find it
comfortable."

"I will see," he smiled, easing himself into it. Slowly he turned
over, struggling. "I feel like a fish in a man's net."

"I hope not. I've not intention of putting a hook in your mouth or
clubbing you over the head."

"Or slitting my throat, I hope," he added.

"No, none of that."

"Are we waiting?"

"Yes," I said. "Desa has asked to witness this. Does that trouble
you?"

"No," he replied calmly. "Desa is our master in all things, Darynn,
and there is no reason we should not invite him to watch this."

Desa arrived shortly thereafter. But not through the front door, oh
no. Instead, a wind stirred and then a small gale erupted in Ryu's
home as a great Dragon, an ancient beast of full beard and golden eyes
dropped through the hole in the roof and landed, with little room to
spare, on the ground. [Desa Megassi, at your service,] it said calmly.

"Master Desa," I said, bowing.

Ryu was attempting to climb out of the sling when Desa said [Stay,
Ryu. You were preparing. Continue.]

I picked up my newly earned staff of silver and began chanting slowly.
The power that I wielded now would have frightened the Darynn of three
years previous; now it was familiar, if still awesome in its capacity.
I raised the staff over my head as the chanting took on a life of it's
own, pouring from my lips without my even thinking it. I walked
forward, concentrating only lightly, letting the spell progress in its
natural course. Ryuchia was already erect, his head lolled back
against the knitted net and his eyes staring at me, waiting. Pleasure
was still a spell that I could use to prepare my partner rightly for
the acts ahead.

I climbed up onto the net, staring into his face. Our eyes peered into
one another's, locked. Our breathing began to come at the same speed
and the same time, our chests rising and falling together. I knelt
over his great shaft and with one hand picked it up, aiming it. My
greased anus waited for his welcome cock, and as I eased down I felt
it again slide into me. I almost lost myself then in the intense
pleasure of our joining, but without falter I kept singing my spell. I
leaned forward slightly as he reached up with his inner claws and
seized the staff. We held it together as his wings folded over us. I
began my motions, pulling myself almost off his cock, and then back
down onto it.

We rocked slowly as I chanted. The walls of his home began to glow.
They began to get closer, and suddenly they swirled with colors. I
watched as Ryu's keys glowed before my eyes. I began to sing my
companion spells, never once losing track of the great mass of his
penis imbedded behind my belly. As we fucked, I began to explore the
changes I could make, the locales I could find.

The spell went on for what seemed forever. I had never had so much
within me for so long. I would not let him climax and I could not find
what I was seeking. I flew over the beauty of his keys, watching them
flash before my eyes before one of the companions rang out with
recognition. It had found his keys of growth.

As I manipulated them, dreamed what they would do if I changed them, I
realized that in a few years Ryu would start his growth. The changing
of the body and the growth were not related, and it was only
coincidence that they happened to most Dragons at the same time. It
was only a matter of time.

[Ryu,] I dreamed to him, [There is something I have to tell you.] I
told him what I saw, and what I had learned. [I could start it now.]

There was a long, quiet pause. Ryu was thinking, and when he finally
spoke my heart lifted. [If I started now, I would quickly grow so
large we could not do this.] He was silent again, and I started to
fear. Finally, he dreamed, [I want to enjoy my winter with you,
Darynn, since you cannot leave until the coming Spring. Change
nothing, human I love. Finish the spell.]

I could have stopped the spell simply by ceasing chanting. But I did
not. I simply shifted my magics, delving deep into pleasure. I cast
the greatest of the Pleasures I knew. Ryu and I shared.

Everything he felt, I felt. I became aware of how small I felt and yet
how much he loved me. I felt both our hearts beating, becoming one. I
became aware of his surprise when he felt how large he was to me, how
beautiful. We made love, Aimee', as only two males can with this
sharing. It was the most beautiful moment of our lives. As his climax
grew, so did mine. The staff held over our heads still, my hands and
his claws, we grew closer together as our loving reached its pinnacle.
We were both screaming as we came, shouting out our hearts with
pleasure as he came within me and I came all over his broad, white
belly. My eyes screwed shut in pleasure as it seemed to go on and on.

It ended. I collapsed, losing my grip on the staff and falling against
his chest. He held my staff above us still, then slowly eased it down
into the netting.

His shaft shrank within me and then, easily, it slid out my hole, a
small rivulet of fluid following down my leg as we lay together,
awaiting the return of our strengths. "Oh, Ryu," I sighed.

"Darynn," he breathed. "I love you."

I nodded, pulling myself up and kissing him under the chin.

Our tender moment was broken, partially, by our teacher. [Tell me what
you have done.]

"Nothing," I replied, and again repeated what I had learned about
Dragons and how they grow.

He listened closely, attentively, his monstrous head turned in an
attitude of careful thought. When I was done with my report, he looked
at Ryuchia. I know not what exchanged between them, but when it was
over Desa looked to the ceiling. [Darynn, Ryuchia, you have made an
old Dragon pleased. It is good. I shall see you both in the morning.]
With that, he took to the sky, leaving me and my beloved Ryu to our
soft cradle and familiar caress.



The winter passed with little excitement; days of study and nights of
sleeping. Ryu and I slept together in happy contentment, and by day we
both studied. Now my studies were calm, orderly, less hectic and
demanding. I knew what I needed to do commit my magic. I was destined,
I felt, to be an Archmage, but I knew that I would only get there at
my own pace and any forcing of it would be pointless.

I enjoyed my time with friends more and more, knowing that it would
all end soon and I would begin the journey that would lead here, to
the city of Barraminum, a city of great power and evil. As well you
know, Aimee'.



Darynn leaned back against the pillows he had arranged and stoked the
fire to greater warmth. Aimee' sat across from him. "You haven't
removed anything," he observed.

"Every time I did at our last meeting, you would pause. I did not want
to interrupt you." Aimee' smiled and began unlacing her boots, tossing
them aside. Then her pants and her headcloth. "I am as I was last
time." Her smile faltered slightly and then she said, "Sir, would you
remove my tunic?"

Confused, Darynn said, "You wish me to...?"

"I am ready to take it off. I want you to do it." She paused for a
moment, then said, "Only to you will I say 'please.'"

Darynn sat up straight and reached for her. "Come here then, if you
wish it."

She crawled and sat before him. He closed his fingers on the cloth of
her tunic and pulled the tunic off, placing it down where she could
reach it easily. "If you need it, it is there."

"I will not need it," she replied. "I know of your love for the love
of men only, Master Darynn."

Darynn picked up the shirt again and handed it to her. She took it,
confusion and concern in her eyes. Darynn knew she was wondering if
she had done something wrong. "Hold that, Aimee', while I tell you
something. My reputation as a lover of men and boys may be well and
established, but I am preparing to make an exception. For you. I do
not take as students people I cannot love. I am prepared to take you
as a student, Aimee', and I have searched my heart and I can say that
I am prepared to love you."

She started, pulling the shirt across her chest as she did so. Then,
with an angry growl she crumpled it into a ball and tossed it away.
Her emotions shifted again, this time into a smile. "You are kind and
concerned, Master Darynn, and I would be honored."

Darynn was still concerned that she was simply responding to him as
another adult in authority, a view of him he would like to discourage
in her. He smiled softly, sighing as he did so. "What did you think of
my tale?"

"It was beautiful, Master Darynn."

"No 'Master' is necessary, Aimee'."

"You truly loved him, Darynn. It was in your eyes, in the way you held
you head and your body as you spoke. Your voice. Oh, you must have
missed him so when you left!"

"Very much," Darynn agreed. "I wonder, did you feel excitement? Did my
describing the love of men affect you in any strong way?"

"Yes, sir! It made me feel warm and a little wet."

"Would you like to show me more, Aimee'? I would like to see you
pleasure yourself before me freely."

"Sir, I... I don't know. Master Teltirray has never asked for anything
like that."

"I just want to watch you, Aimee'. Nothing more than that. Please,
indulge this old man, would you?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir!"

"And remember, when your pleasure begins rising, the image on the
page."

"I did not forget," she said. She leaned back against the small mound
of pillows she had arranged for herself, spreading her legs apart
slightly. Darynn examined her closely now, naked.

Her skin, pale and soft, reflected the light of the fireplace in soft
redding glows. Her hair fell down, framing her face and lying over the
pillows like a net. Darryn's breath caught gently as he stared at her.
He had almost never seen a woman this close, and certainly not with
all of her clothing missing, and for all the ruggedness he usually
enjoyed, he wondered at how he could miss the simply beauty that was
her flawless skin. Her breasts pushed upwards, and he found himself
able to disregard them; they neither held nor rejected his interest.

But what captivated his attention the most was her sex. He had never
seen one for real before; he wondered at his own ignorance that had
allowed him to nearly reach his century year without ever seeing the
genitals possessed by half his own race. He knew that fear was an
inappropriate response, and anything that could arise from fear was as
well. That included disgust, a common emotion amongst his own kind.
Once that was settled, he had nothing to do but watch.

Her hands caressed the full, rounded lips of flesh that made up the
outside of her sex, scratching with her fingernails gently and pulling
them apart. Her breathing grew stronger as she touched herself,
encouraging her passion to greater heights. He watched as she caressed
herself, sliding one finger slowly within her hole and then coating
the rest of her sex with the liquid. One tiny pearl near the top of
her sex grew slowly and after a while she paid it particular
attention. "Darynn, sir, the page... show it to me!"

Darynn quickly scooped up the book and held it before her eyes. "I can
see it," she said as her eyes locked with it. Her breathing deepened.
"I can see it. It's right..." Her left hand began tracing a visible
pattern in the air as she sighed,"... there."

Darynn felt the magic of the spell she stared at penetrating her. She
was summoning the spell sexually, the way it was supposed to be read.
He felt her body next to his own. She was learning, sucking the
knowledge off the page. Sex magic was something that could only be
learned by those willing to do so, and despite the claims of nearly
everyone, very few were open and willing enough.

Aimee' was. In her nigh-ecstacy, she was literally pulling the first
lessons into her lungs with every breath. She twisted and rubbed at
her clitoris until the spell itself began to subside. And then her
body jolted, sending the power of the spell away from herself, into
the air. She gasped, returning to herself, returning to the pillows.

She picked her head up with a jerk and suddenly her hands were
clutching for his sleeve, pulling him towards her with her eyes cast
wide. "What... what was that?"

"Magic," he said with slow and deliberate calm. "That's the spell of
awareness. It's the start of learning."

"It felt so... different. Like nothing else."

"Magic is like that," he said. "Like nothing else." He patted her
thigh softly. "You were beautiful to watch, Aimee'."

"Thank you, sir. Oh thank you!" She lunged forward, her arms about his
neck, hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

A little taken aback, it took him a moment to find words. "You're
blessedly welcome." He held her close, feeling her lithe, warm body
through the cloth of his robes. He felt blood surging into his own
sex, and although he wasn't quite hard he knew his cock would feel
heavy. "Aimee', I need to fetch something. Would you allow me?"

"What?" she asked. "Oh... yes. I'm sorry, sir."

"No apology. Just wait here for a moment." He stood slowly and walked
over to his desk, returning a moment later. He handed her a folded
envelope sealed with blue wax. "This is for your master. It is an
understanding that you be able to reach me at any time you feel the
need to discuss your magical training with me. And this," he said,
handing her a thin brown book, "is for you. It is the first ten spells
you will learn. And you will learn them all by next week. Is that
understood?"

"This is a spell book?" Her eyes went wide with wonder.

"A spell guiding book. It does not have spells, merely instructions on
how to make them. Do you understand the difference?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

"Good. Because that's what you need to know. One more thing." He
handed her a second, smaller book. "This is empty. Fill it. Pages for
your spells, others for your thoughts. You are learning to be a mage,
Aimee'; you must keep track of where you are going and where you have
been. Here is a pen, and here is ink. Here is a bag for everything."

She collected everything together in the bag, not sure what to say.
"Stand, Aimee', for an old man, please."

She stood slowly. "You are not old sir. I can see the signs; your body
is youthful and strong and I know the attentions you seek. Do you want
to...?"

He understood her meaning and shook his head. "Not until I am ready,
beloved apprentice. I have much learning to do as well."

"Yes sir. Oh, thank you, Darynn, thank you so very much!" She
literally bounced on her heels and Darynn understood her beauty. She
was truly woman and child, powerless and on the verge of magehood all
in one person. The more he stared at her the stronger he swore that
she would reach that magehood someday. And Teltirray would be gone.

"Aimee', I must ask that you dress. It is time for you to return
home."

"Yes, sir," she sighed. "Thank you."

"I am merely doing what I have been asked," he replied, winking. "That
I enjoy it is another matter." He watched as he dressed, drinking in
the sight of her buttocks and her legs, watching her shoulders as she
pulled her clothing on. She turned to him when she had finished
dressing, her bag over her shoulder. "Aimee', come here, please."

She nearly hopped over to him. He pulled her close and hugged her.
"You have done something nobody has done for me in many a year,
Aimee'; you have taught me new things about myself. I want you to
continue."

"As do I, sir. As do I." She wrapped her arms around his waist and
hugged him back. "Thank you so much."

"You've said that so many times, Aimee'! I thank you for what you give
me as well. Now, go, before Teltirray begins to suspect what might
actually be the truth."

She nodded. "Goodbye, sir." She leaned over and kissed the back of his
hand swiftly, then disappeared through the door and was gone.

Darynn watched her departure sadly. He hoped, probably unreasonably,
that he was doing the right thing. For the both of them, and for all
they came in touch with. "Good luck, beloved Aimee'," he whispered.
"We both need it."

--
Aimee'
is copyright 1991-1994 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. May be distributed
freely by electronic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings
for personal use.
<html>
<head>
<title>Aimee', Chapter 4</title>
<h1>Aimee', Chapter 4</h1>
</head>
<body>
	"Come here, child, sit down, sit down."  Bethsany patted the 
couch, trying to be welcoming to the nervous young girl who stood at 
the doorway.  "Young" was perhaps a bit of an inaccuracy to 
Bethsany's eyes, since she had some girls working for her who were 
younger.
	She walked forward, her eyes scanning the room intensely.  
Bethsany saw the careful, analytical training that Darynn had imbued 
Aimee' with, but she also saw the youthful nervousness that came 
naturally to girls at Aimee's age.  Bethsany tried her best to hire 
girls who were already enjoying sex when they came to her; women who 
did their work out of desperation were simply not good workers.
	Aimee' reached out with her hand, touching the rough texture of 
the couch, her eyes exploring.  Bethsany watched her for a moment.  
"It's a brothel, dear.  My customers expect a certain degree of 
garishness."  She smiled.  "Sit down, sit down."
	Aimee' finally took her seat and Bethsany took a longer, more 
careful look at her.  She was what she expected from Teltirray's 
tastes; tall, slim, relatively small breasts.  Dark hair and bright, 
blue eyes were something of a necessity with him.  Bethsany was 
somewhat relieved to see that even after three months the usual signs 
of abuse that Teltirray heaped upon his "charges" weren't as graphic 
on Aimee' as usual; either she was showing remarkable resilience to 
his advances or he really was holding back, probably hoping that 
between Darynn's magic and her training they would turn Aimee' into 
the perfect sex toy for Teltirray's vapid tastes.
	"Now, then," Bethsany began after Aimee' had settled down into 
her seat.  "My object is to train you to be as good as any of the 
girls I have here.  That's not easy, you know."  She laughed.  "My 
girls are the very best in the city.  But we will do our best.  Now, 
I understand that it's been Darynn's way to tell you stories about 
himself, how he got his understanding and so on.  I plan on doing the 
same.  So listen closely, dearie, because I don't like repeating 
myself."

	I was born the daughter of a nomad whore.  I don't mind saying 
that because it's completely true.  My mother was a good whore, too, 
and a woman devoted to her husband and her daughter.  We travelled 
around the southern continent on a tented wagon.  There were four 
wagons in our train and a total of seventeen people.  We didn't even 
have a name for ourselves, really; we were just "the people."  There 
were nine cities we visited on our course, the same course, year 
after year.  My father was a merchant trader and was very good at 
picking out what one city had that the next one down the line would 
need, even after a year's absence.  My mother, with her deep red 
skin, slanted eyes and straight, black hair, was exotic in many of 
the cities and men would flock to her like flies on butter.  Much the 
same they did with me many years ago.
	We were a friendly bunch most of the time but we tended to take 
it very carefully on the road.  A good plan considering how many 
brigands there were out there interested in lightening our loads.  
The greatest travel we ever took was from Ticonary to Emti, a rough 
road through a mountain pass that usually took twenty days or 
thereabouts.  We weren't to know it, but in my thirteenth year the 
Maple Campaign to the North had driven a small tribe of barbaric 
Centaurs into the mountain range for refuge.  These were no gentle 
Centaurs of the upper valleys.  No, these were the Gespil Centaurs, 
small, strong, but magicless Centaur warriors who still sometimes 
plague the lands of the Maple region.
	They fell upon us in our sleep.  Crossbows aimed with silent 
accuracy felled our menfolk before they could even shout a word.  It 
was a most silent brigandry.  More than half of our men were dead 
before an alarm was raised.  My mother fought them off, seizing 
father's sword and slashing at them.  It was to no avail; there were 
too many of them, too many warriors, and as she hacked at two who 
leapt and taunted her, one stepped up behind her and ran her through 
with his pike.  I shall never forget the look on her face as she died 
with her ribs pushed out by the spike erupting from her chest.  She 
was sad, sad for me.  She wanted to see me, twisted on the spike 
horribly to look at me as she fell.  When her body slumped to the 
ground the one who had killed her pulled the pike free, then turned 
and gave me a smile.  I hated him and his evil grin, I wanted to wipe 
it off his face and make him pay for my mother's death and I would 
wallow in his pain when I did.
	"Take her!" he shouted, pointing at me.  "Alive!"
	They did that.  Although I fought them, there was really no 
point to struggling with two male centaurs.  "Find a bench in one of 
these wagons.  I'm going to have me some fun."
	I begged and pleaded.  Not that it did me much good.  When they 
found out I was a virgin, there was a roar of approval, as if it was 
all one big joke. Two found a wooden bench, torn from the seat of one 
of the wagons, and laid my mother's bedding over it.  It took four 
Centaurs to hold me, one for each arm and each leg, as they tore my 
clothes from me and laid me down on their platform.
	Gespil Centaurs are not much larger than humans, Aimee'; they 
are usually a little under six feet tall, made more of ponies than 
full-size  horses.  Their penises-- I'm a professional, dear, I have 
to use the technical term-- are not much larger than a man's.  This 
one, their leader apparently, had a large penis even for his species.  
"Hold her down, dammit!" he shouted.  "I can't fuck her if she's 
flailing her feet about all over the place!"
	The two holding my legs managed to get my knees pressed to my 
chest, holding my feet far apart I felt they would split me in two.  
The leader reared up on his hind legs, straddling my body.  He 
grinned down at me, his teeth showing in a snarl that befitted some 
demon more than he.  "You will like this," he said.
	"May Agas and all his demons pass you about for their buggery!" 
I shouted at him.  Sorry, I don't mean to offend you, Aimee'.  I'm 
just trying to relate the story as it happened.
	"I'm sure he will," he responded.  "But not today."  He lowered 
his enormous prick.  I felt it touch my thighs and screamed.  He 
merely smiled.  They must have some muscles to control it because 
with no hands he found my opening and battered at it, the head of his 
prick demanding entrance.  He pointed at one of his followers.  
"Grease us."
	The other one smiled.  I felt a hand on my pudenda, touching me.  
I squirmed harder, but they held me fast, and as the hand pressed 
over my mound it left a streak of some thick, greasy substance.  Then 
the leader was back, his prick still hard as ever.  I felt the slick 
grease helping him, guiding him into me.  I felt my opening giving 
way.
	The pain, Aimee', oh, the pain.  I shall never forget how awful 
that tearing agony was.  It blocked out thought as this Centaur 
blocked the sun from my eyes.  I screamed and flailed about.  In my 
struggle I tore my muscles.  Tears streamed my eyes.  The huge 
stallion prick in my cunt bucked and shoved and jammed as it 
stretched and tortured me.  He raped me wholly without remorse or 
shame.
	I could do nothing.  His prick within me was a weapon, one I 
would someday remove from him in the most painful manner I could 
possibly imagine.  He repeatedly jabbed it into me, the snarl on his 
face-- so many feet away from my clawing hands!-- showing me his 
contempt.   I tried to return it, but my tears and pain were too 
much.
	My body responded, Aimee'!  I understand now what happened, but 
at that time I felt the greatest betrayal as my cunt throbbed from 
his abusive prick.  I felt a pleasure in my being even as I cried, a 
pleasure that exploded in climax even as he dropped his scum within 
my helpless body.  "See?" he smiled as he slid off me.  "She likes 
it.  Take her.  I need a new maidservant.  We'll train her good."
	The others laughed and nodded.  I learned my Master's name was 
"Styur."

	I was thrown over the back of a horse, one of our horses that 
they had captured alive in the raid.  My crying was ignored, as was 
the blood of my deflowering streaming down my legs.  We rode on 
horseback for many miles.
	We arrived at their camp, a collection of caves and huts housing 
maybe fifty Centaurs total.  I was there removed from the pack animal 
that carried me and led to his house.  "Uma!" Styur shouted.  "I have 
a gift for you.  She's difficult, but you can break her."
	The door opened and a Centaur woman looked out.  Her face was 
ugly, the result of a burn I was to learn some time later.  Nor was 
her smile kind.  "She's pretty," she said.  "Yes, I'll do wonderful 
things with this one.  A worthy gift, Styur."  She turned to a box 
and pulled out a collar, such as one would fit a dog, and wrapped it 
around my neck.  It had once been white, but there were the brown 
stains of dried blood covering much of it.  "You see," she said to 
me, her foul breath washing over me, "The last toy we had misbehaved.  
We've not cleaned her things off since then.  That will be your 
task."
	The lock on the collar was small and brass, but I could never 
break it.  Styur smiled as he regarded me.  "You will need to wash, 
Mosh."  I was to find out that "mosh" is a word in their language 
meaning "toy."  It was my new name.
	I was consequently washed and then taken back to Uma and Styur's 
hut.  I was shown my sleeping cloths on the floor, then given a 
basket and told to collect the cloths scattered throughout the house 
and wash them.
	I did as I was told.  I had no choice.  There was nowhere to 
run, nobody to feed me.  I was alone, the only slave alive in the 
Centaur camp, the plaything of their warrior-leader.  I was assured 
that they had others at time, but the war and their movements had 
caused them to lose most of their slaves.  I asked if those slaves 
had died on the trip.  "No," Styur replied, smiling.  "They were 
eaten."
	The days and nights passed as winter came closer and closer.  I 
was taught to make the fire, to raise the heat, to cook for them.  
And every third night or so Styur would tie me down to his bench and 
have his way with me.  He was creative in his foul way, tying me face 
down and then placing bricks under one side of the bench to lift my 
buttocks into the air, making his entry easier.
	I hated him.  And every time he raped me, I climaxed.  I drew my 
pleasure from hating him, from the knowledge that I could have this 
pleasure, that it was mine, it belonged to me, I made it despite him.  
He could never take it away from me without taking away his prick, 
his own pleasure at his human girl.  I would fight the biting ropes 
and scream and hate him.  He would sometimes gag me.  My fingers 
would strain, my wrists pulling against the cords, trying for some 
way to get free, as his prick fucked my cunt, rubbed my clit and made 
me come.  I would scream with anger and with pleasure.  
	He would get off me and touch my face.  "See?" he would say.  
"You're starting to like me more and more."
	I would curse him.  Once, I spat at him, and he slapped my face 
so hard a bruise welted up there that lasted for a week.
	In my dreams I wished for a lover who would not abuse me.  Who 
would give me what I wanted in fair trade for what he wanted, who 
would stop when I wanted him to and who would ask me to stop when he 
didn't want to.  I doubted such men like that existed at all.  I 
sometimes still do, excepting Darynn, of course, who is too much a 
man's man to do me and my girls much good as a lover.  But still, 
there is much to learn from a man like him.
	I dreamed of the day I would be close enough to another human to 
have the freedom to kill Styur.  I was surprised when that day came 
sooner than expected.
	In my third month of capture the horror these people inflicted 
upon my family was returned a hundredfold.  During the first night of 
truly deep snows, the alarm arose in the camp, waking me from a 
sleep.  I slept with their dog for warmth and companionship; of all 
the creatures, she alone loved me for simple things.  I was kind to 
her.  Styur found that fitting, that his pets should sleep together.  
At first, I was disgusted by his train of thoughts; I was not his pet 
or his toy.  My need for warmth, friendship, and my desire to not 
reject this only friend won out, and I stayed next to her in the 
night.
	I've strayed from the tale.  The alarm, yes.  Whistles awoke us 
all and Styur ran from his stone home, seizing his sword as he 
galloped out the door.  Shouts and screams erupted.  Some of the 
shouts I did not recognize, although they were all distinctly womanly 
in sound.  I waited  in the dark, hugging Huna-- that was the dog's 
name-- closely.  The sounds of battle rang out, the clanging of 
metal, the shouts and grunts of fighters.  The door fell in, and 
Styur collapsed onto the floor, four great arrows buried into his 
manchest, more on the rest of him.  He reached out for me, gasping.  
"Help me," I heard him say.
	Help him?  I stood up, walked to him, pulled his short dagger 
from its sheath.  "I'll help you, all right.  Right into Hell."  I 
held it up and was about to plunge it into his heart when I stopped 
and reconsidered.  I remembered my pledge.  I walked around to the 
back of his body.
	"No," I remember hearing him say.  "Don't."
	I shoved the knife into his leg, slicing at the muscles that 
allowed him to kick.  He screamed, a painful thing that made me 
smile.  My hatred for him was absolute, complete.  I cared not the 
slightest for him.  The leg, now useless, I kicked up and out of my 
way,exposing his privates.  I grabbed his penis and balls in my hands 
and pulled them away from his body, wrenching them painfully.  He 
screamed trying to get away from me as I cut them loose from his body 
with the dagger.
	Blood poured upon the ground and his body twitched and writhed. 
I dropped the contents of both my hands on the ground, then fell to 
the ground myself, sitting in the doorway, waiting while the snow 
fell on me in gentle, fat flakes.  After a while a shape, a human 
shape, stood over me, looking down at me.  "Have you done that?" she 
asked, pointing at the still-oozing carcass of Styur.  I didn't 
answer.  I couldn't.  I can't explain what was wrong with me, but it 
was simply that I didn't want to do anything, not even answer a 
simple 'yes' or 'no'.  She knelt down.  Her face, partially covered 
by the open-faced helm she wore, was hardened and covered with a 
stain of blood from her nose, but it had a smile that, for the first 
time in months, was genuine and lovely.  "I guess you did.  Come 
here."  As she spoke her breath streamed away in visible clouds into 
the night.  She touched my arm and suddenly I was freed of my  
paralysis.  I held onto her as if she was my last touch of life, my 
last hope of living.  I gripped her with my remaining strength.  She 
began to carry me away and Huna began to follow us.  "Shoo, dog," the 
woman said.
	"Huna!" I said, pointing.
	"What?"
	"Huna!"
	"Is Huna your friend?" the woman asked me.  
	"Yes.  Bring Huna?"
	She nodded.  "Okay, we'll bring her."  With her free hand she 
slapped her thigh.  "Come on, Huna.  You're a... girl.  Good."  She 
laughed.  "Come on, girl.  We're going to take you home."  She 
carried me to the edge of the camp where the rest of the troops had 
collected.  There she introduced me to my new life.

	Bethsany sat back on her couch.  Aimee' had curled up into the 
corner of the couch, watching her carefully.  Although not a mage 
herself, she recognized the signs of idling power within the girl's 
delicate frame and wondered if the story had aroused Aimee' defenses.  
She hoped not.  "So," she said, taking a deep breath.  "Come, I want 
you to meet someone."
	She rose and held out her hand.  Aimee' took it unsurely, and 
Bethsany whisked her out of the room and down the stairs.  "Meli!  
Meli, where are you, girl?"  The stairs ended in the girl's leisure 
room, a space Bethsany had set aside for the women to collect 
themselves and relax.
	"Over here, Miss Beth."
	"Oh, there you are."  She dropped off the steps and herded 
Aimee' in the direction of the tall, black-skinned girl with the wide 
smile and the sweet-smelling skin.  "Meli, I want you to meet Aimee'.  
Aimee', this is one of my favorite girls, Meli.  She is going to take 
you aside and teach you a few tricks that will certainly please your 
Master."  With that, she took Meli aside and whispered her 
instructions into the girl's ear while casting sidelong glances at 
Aimee'.
	Meli finally nodded and walked back to Aimee's side.  They 
looked at each as if measuring, then Meli reached out a hand.  Aimee' 
took it and both let out a small sigh of tension.  "Hi," Aimee' 
said.
	"Hi," Meli replied.  "Come on.  Let me take you in back and I 
will show you what you need."
	Aimee' nodded and allowed Meli to lead her down another flight 
of stairs into what felt like a basement.  The room was warm, though, 
and comfortable.  The bright golden yellows and reds that 
predominated most of the upstairs gave way to softer pinks 
accentuating rich blues, comforting, feminine colors.  "This is where 
we relax in the daytime," Meli said.  "It's a safe corner for all of 
us."  The first room was little more than a hallway, leading off to 
other rooms with dubious contents.  "This way."
	Meli led her down the hall and into another, small room.  This 
one had a bathtub of sorts inlaid in the center of the floor.  The 
tub, of white, smooth stone, was big enough to hold several women at 
once.  It had a spout in the shape of a serpent hovering over it.  
The mouth of the serpent caught Aimee's eye.  "Darynn, your teacher, 
made that for us.  It is a well-crafted <em>urnen</em>  a device for 
heating water to our whim."  Inside the tub was a strangely shaped 
chair, as if for sitting rather than for washing.  A rope hung down 
from the ceiling, crossing through a pulley there to another by wall, 
then down into the floor.
	"This knob controls how strong the water is, this one how hot, 
and this lever..."  She grinned.  "This one controls where the water 
goes."
	"Goes?"
	"Get in.  Sit down and give it a try," Meli grinned.  Aimee' 
gave her a curious look, then shrugged and slipped out of her 
clothes, slipping into the water.  "Sit in the chair, that's it."  
The tawny, black-skinned girl undressed as well, sliding into the tub 
behind the chair.  "Now, the first part's always the toughest to get 
ready for.  Start the water flowing."  Aimee' looked over and found 
the one for pressure, giving it a quick turn.  "Lightly, girl!  
You'll never get used to it like that!" Meli admonished.  "Turn it 
low, right, like that.
	"Now, reach over for the rope and pull on it."  Aimee' did as 
told.  The chair began to rise and tilt in the pool.  Her legs were 
slowly being raised out of the water, most of her body with it, until 
her mound and her head were just above the water.  The stream from 
the serpent's mouth was striking the water between her legs, a foot 
from her mound.  "Test it," Meli said.  "See if it's too hot."
	Aimee' reached a hand out into the water.  "It's fine."
	"Then take the lever and push it away from you.  It's a bit 
strange, but you'll get used to it."  Aimee' did as told and the 
water began moving closer to her mound.  "Just go on, Aimee', you'll 
like it."  Meli moved her hands slowly around the other's girl's 
body, her hands caressing Aimee's sides, touching her skin.  Aimee's 
chest rose, gasping, as Meli's hands reached around and touched her 
nipples at the same time the water ran up between her lips and 
touched her clitoris.  She squirmed and moved the lever, pushing the 
water off.
	"Take it easy," Meli said.  "Some girls like it very hard, 
others like it very hot.  But we must all start out carefully."
	Aimee' nodded and her fingers gripped the lever a little more 
tightly.  The mouth of the serpent, made of many carefully made 
plates of silver, moved slightly, directing the flow of water closer 
and closer to Aimee's cunny.  "That's it," Meli whispered in her ear, 
"That's it."  Aimee' felt her breasts flush and grow warm as Meli's 
fingers caressed them, pressing against her giving flesh.  Aimee's 
breath grew hoarse and ragged as the water played over her clitoris 
more and more forcefully.  Her fingers barely touched the lever, her 
hips grinding against the smooth material of the seat.  Meli wrapped 
her arms around Aimee's waist and held onto her, holding her down, 
waiting for the explosions to stop.
	Much to Meli's surprise, they did not stop.  If anything, 
Aimee's moans grew louder, her buttocks pounding against the marble.  
The moans built  into a scream, and then Meli noticed that the room 
had become darker; the candles had gone out, and a wind was building.  
Even in as small a space as the bathtub the water become choppy, the 
air whistled and spun as Aimee's screamed.  "No!" Meli scrabbled for 
the knob in the dark, finding it with her fingertips, and turned off 
the water.  
	The wind subsided.  Aimee's breathing, punctuated occasionally 
by moans, filled the room.  Finally even that grew quiet.  Meli, 
still more than a little frightened, whispered, "Aimee'?"
	"Meli?" the reply came.  "Are you okay?"
	"Frightened, but unharmed," Meli replied.
	The door to the room flew open.  "What in the name of Agas is 
going on down here?"  Bethsany peeked into the room, looking around 
at the destruction.  "What happened."
	"She... she started to come, madame, and then the whole room 
just started to come apart."
	"Aimee'?"
	"It was so... powerful.  Meli was touching me and the water was 
so strong... I couldn't help it!"
	Bethsany rolled her eyes.  "I'm going to send you a message for 
Darynn, Aimee', that he's to teach you to keep your magic down when 
you're just having fun!"
	"Yes, Ma'am."
	"Now, Meli, I told you to show her a nice time, but you were 
also to teach her how to do her hair.  Now, get with it, get with 
it."
	"Yes, madame," Meli replied, climbing out of the tub and handing 
Aimee' a towel.  "Come, Aimee', I will teach you how to be 
beautiful."
 
			Aimee', Intermission


	Darynn smiled as he pulled the robes tightly about himself.  
Although inside the council chamber the fires had kept the meeting 
comfortably warm, outside the chill of winter easily permeated the 
halls  of the Administration Building on the College.  As he walked 
away he had the distinct taste of victory in his mouth.  He thought 
back... it had only been minutes earlier...

	"Master Darynn," Teltirray had said, approaching him.
	"Master Teltirray," he had replied gracefully.
	"I wish to thank you.  Your teaching of Aimee' has been 
wonderful.  Her learning is spectacular, her skill growing 
appreciably in the six months you have known her.  I admit, I had 
misgivings.  After all, your... preference... did not encourage me to 
send her to you."  He positively sneered the word 'preference,' a 
sure sign to him that Teltirray was still dealing with him fairly, if 
uncomfortably.  There was no double meaning here.  "I thought you had 
nothing to teach.  I see that your knowledge of, well, men, applies 
to her skills very clearly."   The grin he gave Darynn made the blood 
run cold.  He wondered how much of that 'skill' was applied strictly 
to the healing arts in a sense of self-preservation.  "I thank you, 
especially since you have taken upon yourself an increase in the time 
you spend on her training, beyond our agreement, without asking for 
an increase in the cost."
	"Master Teltirray, Aimee' presents a challenge.  I hope you do 
not take this wrongly, but I feel I am learning from her as I have 
never worked with a woman before and feel most uncomfortable doing 
so."
	Teltirray smiled, taking Darynn's words exactly as he had 
expected.  "I understand.  Still, I appreciate beyond words what you 
have done to her."
	"I am grateful."
	"I apologize for interrupting you.  I see you are in a 
hurry."
	"No, merely anxious to return home.  I have much to do 
tonight."
	"Then I shall not keep you any longer.  Good day."
	"Good day."  Teltirray had departed.

	Darynn walked down the hall, enjoying his success, celebrating 
with quiet happiness the nurtured hope that Aimee' might survive 
Teltirray's abuses unharmed and that she might someday register at 
the College as a student... under his aegis.  So complete was his 
self absorption that he didn't notice the woman at the end of the 
hall until her hand reached out and dragged him aside.  "What?"
	The woman stepped back out of reach as his hand came up in a 
defensive posture.  "Whoa, Darynn!  It's me!"
	"Bethsany?"
	"Right, right!  You could scare a body half to death if it 
didn't freeze in here first.  Don't you mages believe in heat?"
	"Unlike your usual clientele, mages are not likely to walk 
around unclothed.  What are you doing here?"
	"Came looking for you.  I need to talk to you."
	"About Aimee'?"
	She nodded.  "You're hoping she kills him, aren't you?"
	"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said as he put up 
privacy spells as fast as he possibly could.  Before she could speak 
again, he put his hand up to silence her.  Open mouthed, she stared, 
then nodded and closed it again.  "Now then.  As I was saying, I have 
no idea what you're talking about."
	"Aimee' and Teltirray," she said, lowering her voice to a 
whisper.  "Some of the stuff you've been teaching her... you're 
hoping she kills him, aren't you?"
	The room she had pulled him into was one of the side classrooms, 
with the teacher's desk close to the door.  He sat down on it and 
folded his hands in his lap, grinning.  "I won't cry at his 
funeral."
	"Don't you think he'll get the least bit suspicious?"
	"If he does, that's his problem.  I've taken on an apprentice, 
Bethsany, and I usually first teach my apprentice those things he 
needs to survive.  And besides, most of what I've taught her are 
spells that a select group of your clientele, and me if I were 
interested in women, find extremely exciting."
	Bethsany's mouth cracked into an echo of Darynn's grin.  "I see.  
Do you really think she can do it?"
	Darynn stared out the window where the first heavy snow of 
winter was falling, making the fresh, cold air hazy and covering the 
campus in a layer of white.  Trees were bending already with the 
heavy weight of packed snow and from his vantage only one brave (or 
foolish) soul was trying to make his way across the quadrangle.  
Inside the classroom, however, only the sound of breathing could be 
heard; the privacy spells Darynn had put up kept all sound from 
leaving, but it also kept sound from entering as well.  No-one would 
investigate; privacy spells were amongst the easiest to learn, the 
most common to use, and the most respected.  Mages valued their 
privacy.  And Darynn was an archmage.  No-one would interrupt him.
	"Ultimately, Bethsany, of all the people who will ever need to 
defend themselves against Teltirray, if anyone can do so 
successfully, I think she can.  I think he's given himself a 
challenge he's not up to."
	"I don't have your magical skill, Darynn, but I have to agree 
with your observation.  She's strong.  I just hope she's strong 
enough."
	Darynn looked out the window again.  "I think we'll know before 
the snow melts."
	"That's not a lot of time," Bethsany sighed.  "I'll help in any 
way I can."
	"Just keep teaching her to be strong, Beth.  That's what she 
really needs.  Encouragement."
	"I'll do my best," she nodded, turning to leave.  She reached 
for the doorknob, then stopped and turned around.  "Darynn, I know 
you don't care for women's ways, but you've always been kind to me 
and my girls.  I don't understand why, except that we understand each 
other."  Her mouth curled into an unpleasant snarl.  "I've seen what 
he does to the girls he gets.  Get him.  Please."
	Darynn merely nodded as she left, closing the door behind her 
with a click.  He turned his stare out the window again, watching the 
snow come down in slow, dry sheets of white.


Aimee', Chapter 5



	Darynn looked up from his desk.  Aimee' had entered without 
knocking this time, just as he had asked, and was now scanning his 
bookshelves at a furious rate.  He cast a small spell to examine the 
titles she was looking at, paying attention to the ones she lingered 
over.  He frowned when he noticed most of them were healing spells.  
Still, if that was what she needed, she had every right to copy and 
learn them.
	She selected one and pulled it down, reading through it.  He 
paid her little attention, dedicating himself to the spellbook before 
him on the table; the way of Deists and their spells was still beyond 
his ken, although he now understood some of what the Essentialists 
did.  He looked up once in a while, noticed her penquill flying at 
that furious rate that even he envied in her, then returned his 
attentions to his studies.
	The next time he looked up he saw that she had fallen asleep in 
the chair, her own spellbook open but lying across her chest.  He 
rose from his desk and walked over to her.  "Aimee'?" he asked, 
touching her shoulder.
	"Huh?" she said, startling awake.  "Oh, sir.  Forgive me.  I 
just... needed to rest."
	He nodded and patted his hand on the shoulder he touched.  "That 
is perfectly okay, Aimee', I understand."  He smiled at her.  "So, no 
more storms at Bethsany's place, right?"
	She shook her head.  "No, sir.  I've got it under control now, I 
think."
	"Good," he said.  "I should tell you, Aimee', that you are 
someday going to be the most powerful mage in the world at the rate 
you learn, but that power and skill must be tempered with learning 
and maturity."  He smiled at the shock on her face.  "It is true, 
Aimee'.  Few people recognize it, because your talent, like mine, is 
sexual, and therefore generally overlooked.  In fact, are you willing 
to listen to one more story by an old man?"
	"Oh, yes sir!" she grinned, sitting up onto the edge of her 
chair.
	"Good," Darynn commented.  "Remember where my stories left 
off..."

	It came to pass in the Spring of my 24th year that I left my 
beloved Ryuchia, just as I had left my beloved Awrthom.  This time, 
however, many of the reasons for going were my own, not those of a 
master shooing me out the door.  It was true; Desa had little more to 
teach me.  I had grown beyond the peak of learning, and all was now a 
straight and understanding path.
	I travelled down the road on horseback, armed with spells of 
defense for most of the travel.  Just once, the day after leaving the 
mountains of the Megassi, was I assaulted by brigands.  There were 
six of them, all told, who descended upon me and demanded I stand and 
deliver my gold and possessions.  They never got within a horse's 
length of me before three dragons descended from the sky.  [You are 
protected by the will of Desa,] one told me.  [You will reach 
Barraminum safely.]	They slaughtered the brigands and consumed them, 
leaving their possessions upon the ground.  I learned that day to be 
a practical man and recovered their gold and their horses.  At the 
next town I sold them all and left a wealthier man.
	I made my way across the rocky terrain of the northern steppes 
and found myself in Barraminum after only two months of travel.  It 
was not an easy two months, but it was uneventful.  I learned some 
hardness on that trip that I wish I had not, but I am also glad that 
I did.  I still have not decided on the good or bad of casting 
'Stroke' upon a rabbit, holding the spell while creeping up on it, 
and then slitting its throat in its moment of ecstasy.  The idea 
still bothers me greatly.
	But it kept me fed until I reached Barraminum's gates.  The 
guard at the gate wished to treat me roughly.  "What do you want?" he 
said.
	"Directions to the College of Mages."
	"Haw!  And who's your patron?"  He was a foul-faced fellow, all 
pinched and dirtied.  Missing a few teeth, too.
	"I have none," I said.
	"Go on, get on your way," he swore at me.  "Nobody gets to the 
college without a patron.  What do you think you're doing here, 
anyway?"
	I reached into my cloak.  "I have here a signed letter from 
Talen Silisto inviting me into the college as an unfettered student."  
I showed the illiterate fool the seal and quite suddenly he was nice 
to me.
	"Yes, sir," he said.  He seemed more than a little distraught, 
an effect I found rewarding.  "I'll bring a boy to lead you to it."  
He swallowed and walked away.  As he did so, I turned my sense of 
hearing to him and I heard him mutter, "One of these days I'm going 
to say the wrong thing to the wrong mage and I'll be spending the 
rest of my days searching for Mrs. Right Toad."  I tried not to 
laugh.
	The guard did eventually find someone to lead me through the 
city, a young and healthy boy of perhaps sixteen.  I dismounted my 
horse as he led me through the gates and to the College of Mages.
	Ah, the College.  I'm sure by now you're as familiar with it as 
any student, but at the time the high stone walls and the beautiful 
spiraling towers within were enrapturing to me.  I was entranced by 
the mere silvered appearance.  The open-air main building, it's roof 
nothing more than magic itself, allowing in the sun and air but not 
the rain, framed with great stone pillars.  All wonderful to me.
	Once my invitation was acknowledged to be genuine, I was given a 
place to stable my horse and then led into the Main Hall, through a 
hallway and to an office, where I waited for Talen Silisto to meet 
with me.
	Finally, he did.  "Ah, Darynn, you have arrived.  You have no 
other name?"  I shook my head.  "Fine, fine.  I am Talen Silisto."  
He was a tall man, reedy thin, with fine, strong feature.  A well-
shaped face with a sharp nose and inquisitive blue eyes.  "Come into 
my office, would you?"  He directed me towards the door, walking 
behind me; once he  was in, he locked the door.  Needless to say, 
this made me nervous.
	He sat back in his chair behind his desk and examined me 
closely.  I felt probed, inspected, dissected by his careful vision.  
He finally pressed his fingertips together.  "So you have recently 
come from Desa Megassi."
	"Yes, sir."
	"How is Desa?"
	"Fine, sir, although in his dragon form he does not get out much 
these days.  I only saw it twice in the 25 months I lived there, and 
both occasions were very brief."
	"I see," he said.  "Still, it is nice to hear that he is alive 
and well and teaching again.  For a while I though I should never 
hear from him.  Instead he sends me you.  A student not even 25 who 
has already created an incredible spell base.  And, he tells me in 
private, you have mastered another spell base that has been nobody's 
knowledge for centuries."
	My jaw dropped when I heard that.  "Sir?"
	"The genetic bases.  Nobody has been able to learn those; 
they're almost strictly dragon lore, and now you wander into my 
college knowing them!  Inconceivable!"  He leaned forward.  "Tell me.  
If I asked you to, could you write them down?"
	Taken by surprise, I nodded.  "I could.  Given time."
	"Do you think anyone else could learn them?"
	"Sir, if you're asking me to pass on my knowledge, I will 
gratefully to students who can use it.  But I will not simply turn my 
studies over to a book for irresponsible students to leaf through at 
their whim."
	His expression took on a pall of surprise, and then he leaned 
back in his chair.  "I see.  Desa has taught you very well."
	"Thank you, sir."
	He clasped his hands together on the table.  "I have no 
illusions about your first spell-base.  'Pleasure' is as powerful and 
as dangerous a Base of the Mind as any I have ever seen.  Most of the 
mages who viewed it felt the same way.  We have downplayed its 
existence because of that very power.  I also understand that your 
power is channeled by sexual arousal, so I will be sure that your 
teacher is one of discretion in this matter, as well as one acceding 
to your needs.  I would take you as a student myself if it were not 
for my age and my preference for buxom young women instead.  You have 
all the makings of a researcher, Darynn, but you must learn to 
protect yourself as well."
	"Sir?"
	"I am assigning you to Lien Pappen.  Lien is a sexual 
spellmaster of no little skill who will teach you the ways of 
defensive and offensive magics.  We will work around your trance-
state methods."
	"None of the other students here will have knowledge of who you 
are.  Many are here on anonymous patronages; the patrons don't wish 
their neighbors to know they are financing a household mage here at 
the college.  You will simply be one of those, richer than the rest, 
I suppose, because of the accumulated patronages you already have.  
Yes, indeed, both Awrthom and Desa have forwarded to me significant 
amounts of remuneration to keep you here."  He smiled.  "I have my 
doubts, Darynn.  You are young, undisciplined, and overpowerful.  
Your power derives from that most dangerous of all human drives, sex, 
and not only that, the release of that power proffers you to be a 
sodomite!"  He pounded the table with his fist while shaking his 
head.  "Your life is going to be difficult, Darynn.  Your teachers 
are putting a great deal of trust in your hands.  Do not disappoint 
us.
	He reached into his desk and pulled out an envelope.  "Here.  
This is your new-student orientation material."  On the back, he 
wrote out a name.  Opening the packet, he pulled out what appeared to 
be a map and wrote on it.  "And this is where Mage Pappen lives."  
Finally he wrote out a note and placed it in an envelope.  "And this 
is the letter of introduction to Mage Pappen."  He rose from his 
desk; sensing a cue, I rose from my chair as well.  We shook hands as 
he handed me the packet.  "Welcome to the College, Darynn."
	Nervous, it took me a moment to remember my voice.  "Thank you, 
sir," I finally managed to say to him.

	I followed the directions on the map, walking high and low 
amongst the buildings until I found the one I was looking for.  A 
short wooden building on a stone foundation, it had a comfortable 
look to it.  I walked onto the porch and rang the doorbell.  The door 
opened to reveal a young woman wearing nothing more than a short 
skirt about her waist, and that skirt was made of leather.  The only 
other mark on her was an intricate scrollwork tattoo over her heart.  
"May I help you?"
	"I am Darynn, late of Megassi.  I was instructed to hand this to 
Mage Pappen."
	"Allow me."  She reached for the envelope.
	"Are you Mage Pappen?"
	"No."
	"Then I will not hand it to you.  My instruction say to give it 
to Mage Pappen."
	"Brand, let him in."  The new voice came from a taller man whose 
age was indecipherable.  He looked twenty, thirty, even forty.  He 
looked strong.  "I am Mage Pappen.  What did you identify yourself 
as?"
	"Darynn, late of Megassi."
	He descended the stairs and crossed the room to peer at me.  
"The dragons?"  He seemed surprised.
	"The same."
	"There must surely be some mistake.  I've no ken for dragon 
lore."  He opened the letter and began reading it.  "Or, perhaps 
not."  He smiled at me.  "How old are you?"
	"Twenty-five, sir."
	"Brand, leave us."  The woman, without so much as a blink, 
turned and left the room.  "Now then, Darynn, Unbalance me."
	"Sir?"
	"You heard me.  Unbalance me."
	It took me a moment to get up the courage to follow his command.  
I have never simply demonstrated my skill in public before; it's not 
often one is commanded to masturbate publicly.  Which, in effect, is 
what I needed to do to move that spell at that time.
	I dropped my pack and robes.  Leaning against my staff, I 
reached into my pants and found my penis, stroking it softly.  It 
came to life quickly, and in less than nine seconds I found myself 
breathing hard enough to summon power.  One second later I formed the 
base in my head, the second after that I built an Unbalance over that 
base, and in the twelfth second I opened one eye, looked at Mage 
Pappen, and released it.
	The Mage looked happily unbalanced.  "You are he!"
	"Yes, sir.  I created the 'Pleasure' base."  I blushed, 
embarrassed.  "I realize I have achieved a bit of notoriety from 
that."
	"Yes.  We'll have to work on that arousal pattern you have, get 
it down from twelve seconds to one."  He grinned.  "You'll have to 
find your arousal in the satisfaction of the act, not the other way 
around.  We'll manage."  He looked at my staff curiously.  "Is that 
staff yours?"
	"Yes, sir.  It was given to me by Desa Megassi, Master Mage of 
Hakkana."
	"Well then, Mage Darynn, welcome to my home.  You are once again 
Student Darynn as well, you understand."  I bowed my head, agreeing 
to the term.  "Excellent.  Brand!  Come show Darynn to room three, 
would you?"
	The woman returned.  "Come with me."

	Lien Pappen, it turned out, was considered <em>the</em> sexual 
mage on Campus simply because he was the only mage of advanced skill 
who could do sexual work.  Sex was a consuming passion with him and 
what he preferred, but it was not what he did best.  Where his 
expertise lay magically was in process work.  When I described the 
spell I had cast on myself and my beloved Ryuchia, he positively 
glowed.  "Darynn, I must ask that I see you perform this spell 
process."
	"With whom, sir?"
	"I would ask that you perform it on me.  I cannot ask you to 
perform it on Brand since she is a woman, and therefore not to your 
liking."
	"Yes sir."
	I explained the procedures necessary, and he agreed to them.  We 
arranged a space in his basement in which to build the equipment 
necessary.  I felt relieved to be in my own element again; it had 
been three months since my arrival at the campus and I had begun to 
feel depressed.  I was without lovers here, a state not to my liking 
and certainly discouraging to a mage of my studies.  Unlike dragons, 
the people in Barraminum regarded my preferences as disagreeable and 
limited my attentions to the boyhouses by the waterfront.  Although 
my allowances would certainly allow me to wander down there once in a 
while for relief, I did not relish the idea of purchasing relief.  I 
craved friendship and a friendly bed, not what these places 
offered.
	Lien joined me when I announced I was ready.  He removed his 
robes to reveal a handsome body underneath; thin, strong, and a touch 
pale, his body radiated with an inner sense of composure that comes 
from being a mage.
	I knew my role' here well as he lay down on the bed.  I crawled 
between his legs and lowered my mouth to his groin without preface, 
burying my face between his legs and inhaling deeply.  He gasped as 
his cock grew to full proportions.  I stared at the purple head 
wavering before my eyes, then smiled as I slipped my mouth around it, 
sucking at the silken skin of his cockhead, then feeling press 
against the top of my mouth, rippling as it touched the back of my 
throat and slid further downwards.  He gasped, his hips bouncing 
against the bed.  I closed my lips upon the warming shaft, sucking 
his cock for all it was worth.
	It was more than skill, Aimee', it was pleasure.  Pleasure from 
the relief of sheer need.  I needed him.  It was more than his cock, 
Aimee'; there was something to his carriage, to his whole being, that 
fulfilled me.  As I pumped my head back and forth on his cock, I felt 
that fulfillment deep within me.
	He groaned slightly as I stopped my sucking, reaching for the 
ointment and applying it to his shaft.  He looked at me 
apprehensively as I knelt over his hips and aimed his cock upwards.  
I pressed down upon it, feeling it against my anus, feeling it fill 
me as it penetrated me.  He was within me.  I picked up my staff and 
held it out.  "Take it," I said.
	He nodded and reached up, taking the staff in his hands even as 
I did.  I began casting the spell, stroking his cock within me all 
the while.  I was interested in letting him in on the spell, so he 
cast it right along with me.
	Together, our bodies continued in patient mating as we explored 
his genetic code.  He marvelled at the process, and the sub-processes 
that allowed me to explore more than the visible.  He gasped with 
pleasure at the spells I had learned, then told me to "End it."
	I did.  The spell collapsed.  Unlike with Ryu, I had no need to 
see his climax, and as the skilled sybarite, neither did he.  We 
ceased our coupling and sat down on the bed together.  "Marvellous," 
he said, panting slightly as he cleaned himself off.  "Simply 
marvellous.  You did not write any of that yourself, I take it?"
	"No sir," I said.  "I adapted some towards my particular method 
of invocation, but I did not write the spell myself."  I explained 
where I had found it and what notes I had had to take in order to 
make it useful to me, rather than to dragons.  I also explained the 
changes I had had to make in order to make it work <em>on</em> him 
since he was human and not a dragon.
	"Astounding.  That you could take such a dangerous spell, render 
it into components in just such a manner.  My friend, you will go 
far."
	"Thank you, sir."

	I learned, several months later, that I had a rival.  By now 
knowledge of both my invocation speciality and my preference in 
partners was common knowledge, and I often took abuse because of 
either, and often both.
	But it was not until late that coming December and the first 
snows had begun falling on the ground that I began to appreciate how 
much hatred Brand was sending in my direction.  As a woman, she felt 
that her capacity for multiple orgasms naturally made her better 
prepared for the kinds of magic I was quickly excelling at.  However, 
as we both found out, that was hardly the case.  She was simply a 
good student without the natural skills that I had lucked upon and 
without the incredibly teachers of Awrthom and Desa Megassi to back 
up those natural talents.
	However the signs began to show.  Resentment, mostly.  I 
understand that.  I had wandered in where she had once been the 
center of attention and quickly established myself as her superior.  
Where she still wore robes of black I had already earned those of 
green.  
	Then things began to get ugly.  At first, even the ugliness was 
somewhat mundane, consisting of shortsheeting and the like.  The 
rumors started up that I preferred little boys, children below the 
age of puberty.  That all sexual mages were destroyers of everyone 
they touched and claimed to love.
	What friends I had stuck with me, and I'll grant them that.  
Although more and more I found it hard to associate with my peers, 
simply because they wished to have no association with me.
	Then came the violence.  There is simply no other term for it; I 
was spat upon, at first, and then I became the target of thrown 
stones.  The attacks grew more and more severe as time went on.
	Magicians, however, are resourceful.  "Don't you worry," Mage 
Pappen reassured me.  "They won't get you, but we shall get them."
	Mage Pappen did indeed help me.  To his credit we eventually did 
turn in most of the miscreants who committed their abuses upon me.  
Some were discharged from the school.
	It was at this time that Brand received her green robes.  Much 
to even my surprise, she announced that that was sufficient to her 
and that she was heading back to her home to resume her life there, 
now a fully-accreditted mage wearing the green. 
	I was surprised; I had fully expected her to stay and earn at 
least the blue I now wore.  I asked Mage Pappen about this.  "You 
know how it is, Darynn.  Some simply want to know all they can, and 
some simply go when they think they know enough."
	My studies continued.  The attacks on me lessened, in part 
because Pappen and I had decimated the ranks of those who did not 
approve of me.  I started casting some spells of import, too, ones 
that caught the attentions of my fellow students.  Although it took 
me sixteen hours to cast, I did one day succeed in an alteration 
spell that allowed me my first wereform.  For six days afterwards I 
could, completely at will, take the shape of a wolf.  I remember the 
feelings of fear that created within me, fear that the wolf shape 
would gain control.
	Also, for some reason, requests from my fellow students for love 
potions blossomed, apparently on the theory that a sex magician 
should be good at them.
	All of this changed one night when I was walking through the 
city.  I had, sadly, succumbed to my needs, and gone travelling down 
in the lower blocks of the city, looking for a street boy who would 
take my money in exchange for a candlespan of attention.  I wanted 
someone, something specific, someone for whom I would feel something, 
and then later feel nothing.
	I walked at odds with myself, accepting, then rejecting one, 
then another, never sure of what I really wanted, knowing that in 
truth I was missing Awrthom and Ryuchia and that Pappen's attentions 
were nothing more than that of a teacher, not a lover.  I missed 
love, Aimee', truly that is what I missed.
	A hand grabbed me by the shoulder.  "'Ey, m'lord, are you 
lookin' for somethin' friendly?"
	"Yes, but I'm not sure-- "  I never got to say another word.  As 
I turned to face the man who addressed me, a fist pounded me in the 
stomach, knocking the wind from me violently.  I was pushed, shoved, 
and carried into an alleyway, where three men hit me further and then 
carried me in through a back door into a small room.
	A cloth was fitted into my mouth to prevent me from speaking.  I 
was thrown across a solid wooden table, where rough ropes tied my 
hands to the supports.  The room was dark, dingy; only two lanterns 
lit it up.  The three who had carried me in were all large and hairy 
men wearing the common clothes of laborers.  They tied ropes about my 
feet, too, but instead of tying those down, they tied them up to a 
beam that supported the roof, exposing my ass to their rough 
hands.
	"He's not a virgin," one said, his voice cracked with the twin 
abuses of tobacco and alcohol.  "Look a' tha' 'ole."
	"He's been had by dragons.  But he'll do you quite well."  I 
recognized Brand's voice.  What was she doing here?
	"Dragons?" the one said.  "'Dor, 'e'll ne'er e'en notice us!"
	"It's been a while."
	One of the men approached and touched my ass with his palm.  
"Smooth as a babe's butt," he replied.  "Does nothin' with it but sit 
on it all day, I reck'n."  His hand was rough and calloused, the 
fingers themselves thick with the muscle of manual labor.  One 
touched my anus.  He pressed inwards without spit or grease, his 
fingers so rough and calloused I felt like I was being entered by a 
pine cone.  The pain made me cry out, but the cloth in my teeth 
dampened the sound to nothing.  His finger penetrated me to the 
knuckles and I groaned.  "Yeah, t' first inch is tight enough fer 
me."  He pulled me across the rough table, granting more pain as the 
raw wood scraped on my back.  "Take this, lad."  With a rough shove 
he penetrated me, his cock mercilessly barreling into my guts.  
"Could use a little wetness, though."
	"Ha' this, then," one of the other men said clearly.  The one 
within me laughed, and I felt something cold splash about my balls 
and hole.  It felt cold, and then burning filled me.  The smell told 
me what  he'd used, and I began to cry from the pain.  Rum.  Alcohol.  
These men cared less if they killed me.
	Another one, to my left, climbed out of his ragged pants and 
approached me, pulling off the gag.  "Suck it, boy," he said.  "Suck 
it well and maybe you'll live."  He pulled back his foreskin and 
stuffed the fetid thing in my face.  The smell was ghastly, as if he 
hadn't washed in weeks, and I couldn't bring myself to do as he 
ordered.  He grasped my head in one hand and my nose in the other, 
waving that evil club before my eyes.  Finally, I had to breathe, and 
he shoved his cock down my throat.  "Bite it and I'll hurt you 
bad."
	I gagged on the torturous thing.  About the only mercy for me in 
this was that the alcohol that ruined me within also entered my blood 
and lessened the pain.  I choked while the two men raped me, used me 
in their laughter.  The one's cock sawed in and out of my burning 
asshole, the other fed me his cheesy meat until both grunted their 
climaxes and finally pulled out.  The one who had been within my ass 
presented his cock to my mouth.  "Clean it, boy."
	Another cock entered my anus.  Gone in pain and alcohol, I 
barely noticed either of the two cocks being used on me.  I felt, 
dimly, the feel of the third man's balls as he plundered my anus, 
raping the juiced hole created by the man whose cock I now washed 
with my tongue.  I could not think.
	And then they, too, were gone, and a slim, delicate hand was 
probing at my anus.  "Darynn, can you hear me?"
	"Brand...  Why are you doing this?"
	"Because," she said as three of her fingers slipped into my 
asshole, "You deserve it, you perverse monster.  The Sodomite Mage.  
You had to be younger than me, prettier than me, better than me."  
Her hand pressed against my burning asshole.  "I'm going to give you 
what you want, Darynn, and what you so richly deserve.  I'm going to 
remind you of your dragon LOVER," she snarled as her arm slipped into 
me, "and then, from within, I'm going to kill you."
	I needed to stop her.  My mind raced with all the things I could 
do to stop her.  I knew spells that would kill her, but they took 
time to prepare.  I needed to handle her companions, too.
	I thought of a Base, a combat Base, that would help me.  I 
imagined what it might look like completed, as complete as a Base can 
be.  I needed to be right, once, because that was all the chance I 
would get.  "Brand," I snarled at her.
	"Goodbye, Darynn."
	"No."  I summoned the base.
	She screamed as the bones in her arm snapped.  She looked up, 
stunned, as I poured power through the base.  One of the men rushed 
me and lightning danced around him, knocking him against the wall, 
screaming.  Another picked up a bottle and I struck him, too, with 
the lightning.  Just as the base 'Pain' could be turned into 
'Pleasure', so too can the bases for healing be turned to suffering.  
Brand pulled her hand free of my body, unable to clutch anything at 
all.  She backed away from me as I willed her to bleed freely; it ran 
from her nose and she coughed it from her mouth.  She shook her head, 
and in her bubbling throat I heard her say "You... you can't.  
This..."
	I was developing an erection even as she said it.  My combat 
master had taught me well; the satisfaction of committing a spell 
need not have arisen from pleasure, but instead, the pleasure of 
winning came from the satisfaction of committing the spell.  I had 
won.  I burned her, blasted her, bled her, and broke her.  And then I 
blacked out.

	"And then?" Aimee' asked.
	"I was rescued.  One of the men who had been busily having his 
way with me ran out into the street, and the screams attracted the 
attention of the local guard.  I was taken back to the college, where 
I attracted a lot of attention."  Darynn smiled and leaned back in 
his chair.  "Now, I've taken away from your studies again to tell you 
a rather dull and boring story."  He yawned to make the point.
	His bait worked; she yawned along with him.  "See?  I've managed 
to put you back to sleep."  He leaned over and kissed her forehead.  
"Why don't you return home?  We'll continue this later."
	She sighed and the sound tore at his heart again.  "Yes, sir.  
Goodnight, sir."
	"Goodnight, Aimee'."



			Aimee', Chapter 6


	Bethsany examined herself in the mirror.  "I still look pretty 
good.  Don't you think, Lilli?"
	"Yes, Miss," the tall brunette encapsulated in leather responded 
warmly.
	"Be honest, Lilli."
	"At your age, Miss, you will not bring in customers except for 
those with certain... desires, but no matter.  I wish to have your 
body and health when I reach your wisdom, too."
	Bethsany turned around and stroked Lilli's face gently.  "You 
say the right things, Lilli."  She kissed the taller girl gently.  A 
knock at the door interrupted her fingers' probing between Lilli's 
legs.  "What is it?"
	One of the younger girls appeared at the door.  "My apologies, 
Miss, but Aimee' is here."
	Bethsany sighed, trying not to smile simultaneously.  Loving 
Lilli was a privilege neither one permitted often, temptation being 
what it was, but she also could never pass up an opportunity for 
kindness with Aimee'.  "Lilli, will you forgive me?"
	The brunette nodded.  "I understand.  I need some commission 
today anyway."
	Bethsany laughed.  "Forever the opportunist.  That's why I like 
my crew.  Could you let Aimee' in on your way out?"
	"I will," Lilli promised, leaving slowly.  As she walked out, 
she held the door open, revealing the small, shivering form of the 
girl who came to visit every week.  "Aimee'!  The Gods, you must be 
chilled to the bone from your walk.  Come in, come in, please, sit 
down by the fire.  Page, get us something warm for her to drink.  
Nothing with liquor, dear, just chocolate or something."  The young 
girl who had first peeked in to announce Aimee's presence looked in, 
nodded, then disappeared.  Bethsany positioned Aimee' on a short, 
padded stool by the fire.  The girl reappeared with a tray holding 
two steaming mugs.  "Here," Bethsany said, handing one to Aimee'.  
"Drink.  You need it.  You look positively white!"
	"I am sorry to distress you so, Bethsany," Aimee' said softly.  
"Master Teltirray is more confident of me; he says in this weather 
thieves do not get out so much."
	"Nor should healthy young girls like yourself!" Bethsany 
countered.  "Besides, in winter brigands need their sustenance like 
everyone else and with pickings slim you make a lovely target.  Be 
careful!"
	"If any such brigand were to lay a hand on me..."
	"You would what?"  Bethsany grinned.  "Lay them low with a bolt 
of wizardly power?  Are you to that point, my lovely Mage's student 
in black?"
	Aimee' blushed.  Bethsany cupped Aimee's chin and pulled it up 
to look into her eyes.  "There is nothing to be ashamed of, Aimee'.  
Confidence is the first measure of any success, be it in Magic or 
Business or Sex.  But you must know your limits, too."  Aimee' nodded 
and sipped at her drink, shrugging off her cloak and easing to the 
floor before the fire.
	Bethsany joined her; however under her robe there was no further 
clothing.  "Let me tell you another story, Aimee'... of what happened 
to me after my rescue.  Is that acceptable?"
	Aimee' grinned and nodded.  "Please!"
	Bethsany leaned back and began.

	"There, there," said my rescuer as she handed me a bowl of warm 
soup.  "You will be all right."
	"Who... who are you?"
	"My name is Cyl'Dia.  I am a woman of Darachmod."  That last 
word made me look up and take notice of her, Aimee', because I had 
heard of Darachmod.  It was a city, rumored to be in the very 
mountains through which my family had been riding when the bandits 
had attacked.  She smiled tightly.  "I see you have heard of us.  The 
legends are mostly true.  Drink up.  I will return in a little 
while."
	She was gone again, and only Huna and I were left together.  I 
held  onto Huna and she let me, being the only thing in my recent 
life that had had any stability and kindness to it.  I watched the 
women in the camp moving about easily, seriously; there seemed to be 
little humor about them.  Slaughtering a camp, even one filled with 
spirits as ugly as Styur's, could have held no glee to them.
	They were all beautiful, tall, strong.  All of them wore heavy 
armor that hid what sorts of bodies they had underneath, but as they 
stripped it off they revealed tightly fitted, warm clothing that 
showed the shapes underneath to be very obviously female.  I wasn't 
to learn just how female until later.
	Cyl'Dia returned shortly with another woman behind her.  "We are 
returning, so your eyes must be covered until you are trustworthy.  
Do you understand?"
	I nodded, still frightened.  She reached out and stroked the 
dog's head for a moment.  "Huna, huh?  She's a good dog.  What's your 
name?"
	"Bethsany."  I blurted it out as one word.
	"Beth'Sany, huh?"  Her voice had a curious stop indicating that 
she had divided my name into two parts like hers.  "That's a pretty 
name.  Beth, this is my commander, Dyn'Valas.  Dyn, this is 
Beth'Sany, who we rescued from the centaurs."
	Dyn'Valas knelt down and examined me closely.  Then she smiled.   
"We do not kill slaves, Beth, even male ones, although we see to it 
that they make their way in a direction other than following us.  Do 
you wish to come to Darachmod with us, or is there a family you want 
to go home to?"
	I shivered.  "I... I have no family.  They killed them all."  I 
managed to point down to the ruined and burning centaur village where 
I had spent the past months.  
	"All of them?"  Dyn'Valas looked shocked.  She recovered 
momentarily and said, "I understand you killed their leader rather... 
gruesomely."
	I managed to shiver another nod.  "He... he used me."  I began 
crying, sniffling in the cold, wet of falling snow.  "I wanted to get 
back."
	She patted my head gently.  "That's understandable.  You want to 
come to Darachmod with us, then?"
	I nodded.  "Please."
	"Cyl, make it so."

	I was placed on the back of a horse and blindfolded.  "Wrap your 
arms around me," Cyl'Dia said softly.  "Reach into the jacket.  Go 
ahead.  I won't bite and it will keep your hands warm."
	I did as she said, my fingers reaching in.  Between my hands and 
her body were but one or two thin layers of cloth, and underneath it 
I could feel her torso.  Even there her muscles were hard, rippling, 
strong.  She was clearly a powerful woman in her own right and I 
envied her.  I wanted to be like her.
	We rode on through the day.  I felt strangely at peace, Aimee'.  
The blindfold kept me from questioning my surroundings in any great 
detail and the best feelings I got at all came from Cyl'Dia, who gave 
me warmth and comfort and spoke to me along the way.  She asked me 
for details of my life before the Centaurs and I gave that 
information freely.  I enjoyed my talks with her; they meant much to 
me.  After so many months of nothing but drudgery in the day and 
cruelty at night, a voice of kindness was something to hold onto.
	We mostly spoke of my life.  Not as if hers didn't have as much 
for discussing, but as if she held back on discussing it at all until 
we reached her city.
	A hollow sound surrounded her voice and the sounds of horses.  
The dry, winter smell was replaced with a slight staleness and I 
recognized that we entered a tunnel.  No-one spoke a word until the 
air returned to the bright coldness of winter.  "Cyl'Dia, you are 
excused from your duties to take Beth'Sany to the chirgeon.  See to 
it that she is looked after and then, I will find you this evening at 
your home."
	"Thank you, my lady," Cyl'Dia replied.  "Beth, you may remove 
your blindfold now."
	I did, getting my first glimpse of the city of Darachmod.  It 
was a large, walled square with houses scattered according to a 
pattern.  On each wall was a large, rectangular building built up 
against the wall, and the houses and other buildings seemed clustered 
around those.  The center of the town was very open.  Each building 
was carefully regimental in construction, pleasing to the eye, 
ordered.  Cyl'Dia led the horse into a stable where girls about my 
age took the horse and gave it blanketing, food, and water.  "Come," 
Cyl'Dia said to me softly.  "I will show you the chirgeon, and then 
to home."
	The chirgeon was a kind, elderly woman who looked me over 
carefully, taking special care to examine my eyes, tongue, and sex.  
"She has suffered no permanent harm," she finally assured Cyl'Dia.  
"She needs proper food and a bath, however.  This thinness is not 
natural for her."
	"Senva?" Cyl'Dia asked, or at least I thought asked, the doctor.  
It was not a word I knew.
	"No, no, not quite.  A healthy middle, I think.  Bengesk."
	Cyl'Dia smiled and nodded, but her smile was tainted slightly 
with sadness.  "I understand.  Thank you, Chire."
	"My pleasure.  It was sweet to meet you, Beth'Sany."
	Cyl'Dia lifted me into her arms again and Huna followed us out 
into the streets.  We made our way into a small home off a side 
street.  Once 
inside, another girl about my age came running up.  "Cyl!"
	"Myr!" she shouted, straining to hold me with one arm while with 
the other gathering the girl into her clasp.  "Oh, it's so good to 
see you!"
	"Are you... are you home, finally?" Myr asked.  "Who's this?"
	"Myr'Dia'Nan, meet Beth'Sany.  We found her with the centaurs as 
their unwilling slave."
	"Unwilling?"  Myr seemed to recoil.  "You mean, they didn't give 
you a choice?"
	"Slaves don't get choices," I sighed.
	"Some do," Myr assured me.  "I do."  The revelation that Myr was 
a slave frightened me.  That she was Cyl'Dia's slave stunned me.  The 
fear in me grew immense and suddenly I was fighting Cyl'Dia, slapping 
at her.  But she still wore the protective padding that went with her 
armor and I was doing little more than getting her attention.  She 
dropped me, however, in my squirming, and I retreated across 
cluttered room to kneel against the wall by the fire.  I expected 
Cyl'Dia to confront me, but instead Myr did.  "Wait, you don't 
understand.  I want to be here."
	I looked up at her, disbelieving.  "You... you want to be 
here?"
	Myr nodded, smiling in unmistakable pleasure.  "Cyl is my 
beloved, Beth.  But I have not the will or control to be a good and 
equal lover, Beth.  Someday, maybe, I will, but until that day I... I 
accept her yoke of power.  Maybe I never will."
	"That's not right," Beth said.  
	"Oh?" Myr asked.  "I am not a child anymore."  She blushed, 
looking ashamed.  "But I do not want to be unprotected.  Cyl'Dia 
gives me protection.  I agree to that."
	"And punishment?" 
	"If I have been bad, yes.  I could leave Cyl at any time, but 
I'm not sure what I would do if that happens."
	Cyl'Dia stood behind Myr, stroking the younger girl's hair with 
her hand.  "You're getting there, Myr.  You are confident in your 
slavery, at any rate."  She looked up at me.  "Some women, such as 
Myr, want someone to push them into adulthood.  Others simply find 
their pleasure in another's power and stay there all their lives.  
And some, like myself, find our pleasure in being that source of 
pleasure."
	"And having your wants met," Myr said.
	"That, too," Cyl'Dia smiled.  "I expect none of this, Beth'Sany, 
from you.  You are my guest until the Spring.  You can be whatever 
you want... except lazy, I suppose.  Whether for my reasons or your 
own, you will have to aid in the carrying of food and water, 
cleaning, and chopping of wood.  I hope that's acceptable?"
	I nodded, still a little frightened by the revelation that 
Darachmod, the city of women, still kept women as slaves.  "I 
understand what is necessary," I said.
	"Good," Cyl'Dia replied.  "Now, let me show you your bed.  
You'll be sleeping in Myr's room, an arrangement she does agree to, 
right?"
	"Oh, yes!" Myr replied, grinning.  "Easily!"
	"Good.  Then you get her bedding ready.  I have to go meet with 
Captain Dyn'Valas."  She stood up again and left, taking a long-coat 
off  the rack as she did so.
	"Now, come with me," Myr said.  "And I'll show you to your 
room."
	The house Cyl'Dia lived in was a large space broken up into 
rooms by taut expanses of white cloth stretched over frames of wood.  
They let light through easily, and I could see shadows and the 
flickering of lantern light from those rooms that had them on the 
backdrops of the cloth.  Some of the frames slid to allow passage.  
Through one, Myr led me down a short hallway and into another room 
with such a frame.  Inside, the room was large enough for three or 
four people to sleep in comfortably.  She had a chest for her 
possessions.  I had to step up to get in, though, because the floor 
of the bedroom was a wooden platform raised almost a foot and half 
off the floor.  "I'm sure Cyl will get you one of your own.  Now, 
wait here while I get you some bedding.  It's sure to get colder 
yet."
	Myr left me alone for a moment, for the first time since my 
rescue at the hands of these women.  I stopped to take stock of my 
situation, feeling disoriented.  I was alive; I had people who seemed 
safe enough.  I had a sense of comfort for once that was unlike any 
other.  Myr returned with a bundle of cloth that hid her face from my 
view until she dropped it on the floor.  "Fhew!" she sighed.  "Heavy.  
And now we have to get the metal, too."
	"Metal?" I asked.
	"I'll show you," she assured me.  "Come.  I'll need help with 
this."
	I followed her into another room with more large chests.  
"There."  She opened one chest and handed me some metallic slats, 
about three feet long and five inches wide, a little less than an 
inch thick.  We made several trips of these back and forth to the 
bedroom.  "What are these?"
	"Sleeping slats," she replied.  She pointed to a spot of floor 
where wooden slats the same size as the metal ones we had carried 
were laid into the floor.  With a knife she pried them loose and 
tossed them aside, fitting the metallic ones in one at a time.  "Heat 
flows through metal much easier than it does through wood, see?"  She 
said.  "At night, before bed, we place coals on the floor underneath 
in these."  She held up a metallic pan with a lid.  "These put out 
heat that flows up into the metal, and then into our bodies, so we 
stay warm."
	I did not understand.  "Does the heat know where the metal 
is?"
	"I don't know," Myr said.  "It's magic to me."  I nodded.  
"Come, let's put the wooden slats away and get two more coal pans for 
you.  One  for your legs and one for your shoulders.  That's about 
where they should go.  There are traps in the floor for you to put 
them down.  See?"  She pointed.  I did.  We gathered the slats and 
put them away.  By the time we were completing our duties, Cyl'Dia 
returned.
	"I see you two are almost done.  Good.  Myr, take one of the 
chests for Beth."  She sat down on the steps of the bedroom.  "I have 
good news, Beth.  It is the opinion of our Captain that you may stay 
here as long as you desire, but it is also her opinion that that will 
not be forever.  As long as you provide your fair share of work, 
however, you are welcome here in whatever position you wish to 
fulfill."
	I nodded, unsure of what to say or do next.  Cyl answered that 
for me by holding her arms out.  "Come and hug me."
	Which I did, gratefully, throwing myself against her and feeling 
those protective arms wrap around me.  I was still frightened, 
Aimee', still scared of a future without my family, a future I did 
not know.  One that hardly seemed to lead to where I am today!
	That night, as I settled down to sleep, I was to get my 
initiation in another woman's arms.  I had anticipated Cyl'Dia being 
the one.  Yes, I think anticipated was the correct term.  I wanted to 
make love with her, truly.  I know that I was misunderstanding my 
need for protection, my joy at being saved, with the painful 
sensuality Styur had awakened within me, and I wanted to share myself 
with Cyl the only way I had known how for month.
	But no, it was Myr who started that.  That first night as I lay 
in my bed I was haunted by memories of the dead Styur, fearing his 
return from the grave, the touch of his ghost, come searching for the 
girl who stole his sex.
	I must have made noise because I remember fighting a hand on my 
shoulder only to wake up and find Myr kneeling by my bedside in only 
her nightclothes.  "Beth!  Beth, you must wake up!"
	"What?"
	"Beth, you're having a nightmare!  Wake up!"
	I finally came to my sense, sitting up and taking stock.  I was 
still in the same place; most of the lights were banked low and I 
could barely see.  Only one lantern was lit fully, and that in the 
front room with the tables and kitchen; suffused through several 
layers of cloth it  barely lit Myr's features.
	I managed to speak.  "I... I was remembering the Centaurs.  It 
was... horrible."
	"I can't imagine.  Forcing you to be something you are not."  
Myr shook her head.  "Do you want someone to be with you for a 
while?"
	I thought about it, then nodded.  "If you want to stay with me, 
I'd like that."
	"Good," Myr smiled.  She walked back to her bedding and grabbed 
her pillow and a blanket, pulling them over to my side of the room.  
The pillow fell down by my head, and then the blanket covered me.  I 
didn't even know what to say as she crawled into bed beside me; this 
was not what I had anticipated.  Almost immediately I warmed to her 
presence, literally and figuratively.  The softness of her body 
pressed against mine, even through our two layers of bedclothes, put 
me at ease.  Here, at least, was something I was familiar with, the 
feel of a woman's body.  I snuggled up close to her out of 
instinct.
	Her hands wrapped around me, touching me.  I held onto her 
close, and much to her disappointment, I'm sure, I fell asleep 
against her.

	When I awoke, she was still lying against me.  Her eyes were 
closed, and her mouth was open.  I could see her tiny pink tongue 
filling her mouth, her upper teeth clearly exposed and just the lower 
ridges visible under her full lips.  Her breath was ripe, as is 
everyone's in the morning, male or female.  Trust me on that one, 
dear.
	Extracting myself from her grip carefully, I rose and dressed in 
heavier robes, then made my way to the front of Cyl'Dia's home to 
stoke the fire back to life.  As I was moving wood into the stove for 
warmth, Cyl'Dia herself came out into the living room.  Instead of 
wearing clothes, however, she came out naked, her nipples pointed and 
crinkling in the cold December air.  "You've started a fire," she 
sighed, smiling.  "Bless you, lovely Beth.  I saw that you and Myr 
had gotten closer than I anticipated last night.  Was that a 
practical or a friendly thing?"
	"Practical.  She warmed me and kept the nightmares away."
	"I see."  Cyl opened the door and with a staff knocked some snow 
from the roof into a bowl, then placed the bowl on the fire.  "In 
that low set of drawers to your left, Beth, you will find a 
drawstring bag with some strong-smelling herbs in it.  Bring it 
here."
	I did as she requested, not sure yet of my position in the 
household.  She poured some of the herbs into a smaller bag and 
tossed the bag into the warming water.  The bittersweet scent of the 
herbs filled the front room and.  "There.  If the smell of 
<em>taba</em> doesn't wake Myr up, she must surely be dead."  She was 
correct; only minutes later Myr came running into the front room and 
fell to her knees by Cyl's side, placing her head in Cyl's lap.  
"See?"
	"What?" Myr asked, looking up.
	"I was telling Beth that the smell of <em>taba</em> was a Myr-
summoning spell."
	Myr smiled.  "It does smell good."
	"Yes.  Myr, fetch us cups."
	Myr did as she was told, pouring drinking mugs full of the 
strange liquid.  I drank it; it was strong in flavor, bitter and hard 
to swallow without honey to aid the taste, but I did drink it.  It 
made me feel much more awake, banishing the sense of sleepiness that 
went with waking up.
	"Beth, Myr, please get dressed.  We must introduce Beth to the 
council, make arrangements for her staying, and the like.  And, I 
think I would like a bath today.  Myr, you may join me, and Beth, if 
you feel you would like to you may as well."
	"What... what does that mean?"
	"I'll explain," Myr said.  "Come, dress."

	The council consisted of six crones, really, who examined me and 
determined by some criteria I was not privy to that I could stay 
amongst them.  It was all very formal, a passing about of swords and 
a handling of spears and a singing of flutes and all that.  Nothing I 
was really interested in.
	She led me to one of the buildings along the wall of the city.  
Women passing us, all wrapped as tightly in robes and cloaks and 
warming jackets as we were, nodded as we walked by, smiling 
contentedly.  We walked into heavy granite halls and through a 
swinging door.  Inside, the heat hit us quickly.  "In here," Cyl 
said, pulling me into a closed room off the side.  "Undress."
	I hung up my cloak, and Myr began undoing the belt about my 
waist.  I helped back, and Cyl watched with amusement as we competed 
gigglingly to see who could take whose clothes off first.
	"Okay, girls," she said.  "Come with me.  Myr, behave.  I know 
how much you enjoy the baths but this is Beth's day."
	"Yes, Miss," Myr said, pouting and grinning simultaneously.
	The "baths" were six round, wooden tubs, each over five feet 
tall, steam rising from them.  Women lazed in them slowly, sometimes 
splashing, some very affectionate to one another.  "We discovered 
these when we took over this city; at the time a tribe of barbarians 
were using these hovels as caves.  No, we did not build this place, 
although we have turned it into a paradise."  Cyl grinned as she 
walked around one of them.  "Come," she said, holding out a hand.  I 
followed her and walked up the steps she indicated and climbed into 
the water of the tub.  Five other women floated in the water with 
Cyl, Myr, and me.  After spending the day feeling as if I was 
freezing, the intense heat of the hot spring water soaked through me 
straight to the bone.  "Beth, come meet the others," Cyl said, 
interrupting my momentary appreciation of their "paradise."  
	I looked up as she introduced them.  She gave a name for each 
one, but none of the names "stuck" to me; I didn't catch the names 
very well at all.  It didn't matter.  They nodded, and I nodded 
back.
	At first, all I did was soak, allowing the heat to pour into me.  
But after a while, motionlessness became boring.  I'm a person who 
feels the need to move, Aimee'.  So I did, opening my eyes and 
looking at the seven women who shared my tub with me.  All of them 
were beautiful and all of them were strong.  I felt safe here; I felt 
as if nobody would touch me the way Styur had touched me, at least 
not without my permission.  That made me want to be touched, 
though.
	I didn't have to wait.  A hand touched my thigh briefly, then 
slid away.  From the light motion on water I recognized it as Myr's.  
I smiled at her and she blushed.  She eased through the water until 
she sat next to me, then whispered in my ear "Do you want me to?"
	Suddenly I was afraid to say yes.  Although I did want her to, I 
didn't know how to tell her.  I'd never been taught how.  Cyl saved 
us both by leaning over and whispering in my other ear, "You have 
permission to say 'Yes.'"
	I looked in her face; she smiled at me patiently.  I turned to 
Myr and said, whispering, "Yes."  Her eyes alighted as she closed the 
distance between our faces, her lips pursed slightly to reach out to 
mine.  They touched...
	I tell you, Aimee', I shall never forget that kiss.  Nor the 
feel of her hand as it glided over my body.  I nearly fainted with 
pleasure.   As her palm cupped my breast, I felt other hands reach 
out and surround me.  Slowly these women lifted me until I no longer 
rested against the wood of the tub, but instead lay in their arms, 
across their out-stretched legs.  I didn't have to move, Aimee'; like 
a rag, their hands touched me, stroked me, warmed me and relaxed 
me.
	I felt their soft, feminine hands, so unlike the cruelty of the 
Centaur Styur who had mistreated me for so months.  Myr's sweet lips 
grasped my own lower and pulled playfully, the smile in her eyes and 
mouth unmistakable.  I could see... she liked me, Aimee', and she was 
happy to have a new friend like me.  We kissed again, my senses 
roiling from the loving touch still swirling about me.
	I didn't know what to say.  "Don't say anything," Myr whispered 
in my ear, as if hearing my thought.  Her lips kissed me yet again; 
this time I closed my eyes and wished on her kiss, wishing for a 
future like this, one with pleasures unending.
	Her mouth opened just a little and I felt shocked as her tongue 
touched my lips.  I didn't know what to do.  It pressed gently 
between them, as if seeking entrance.  I finally let her in, parting 
my lips just a little.  If I had been shocked before, it was nothing 
like this, Aimee'!  The... the intimacy of it, the unbelievable 
pleasure of it, is still indescribable.
	I became shocked into action at the feel of warm, slim hands 
sliding between my thighs.  Myr's hand was still cupping my breast as 
her mouth and mine caressed one another in small, playful circles.  I 
reached out with both my tongue and my hands, reaching out to caress 
her tongue, pressed my hands against the bodies of women I did not 
know.  Their hands touched back; I felt reassuring fingertips glide 
along the backs of my arms and up over my shoulders.  When Myr 
stopped her kiss the smiled down at me, I looked around quickly at 
the women who surrounded us.  They were all different; some were old 
and some were young, some looked so soft and others so hard, Aimee'.  
They were all women, and they were all here to love me.
	I'm sorry; I guess I get carried away.  It's hard not to, even 
for me, even after all this experience running a brothel.  They were 
all beautiful, Aimee', and I think that's why I run such a wonderful 
brothel-- I know how to get beauty out of a woman who wants to be 
beautiful, no matter how she comes to me.  I know how to see it and 
how to enhance it.  And I know whom to show it to.
	As they touched me, the hands became bolder.  But always Myr, 
Cyl'Dia's slave, was allowed to lead the way.  Her hand over my teat 
slid down my belly and over my furred mound, sliding over and cupping 
my entire cunt the way it had my breast.  This, strangely, didn't 
surprise me so much.  I was ready for it, for since this had begun I 
had been longing for it.  Craving to be touched there, touched by 
someone who had  given me permission to give permission for it, and 
would respect me if I  took that permission away.  I craved... love.  
Does that make sense, Aimee', to be given the authority to give 
permission and to take it away?  It was truly a first for me.  I 
looked around at the faces of the  women again, some smiling, some 
intent, and finally I whispered, again, "Yes.  Yes, Myr.  Yes."
	Her eyes glowed as one finger slid down between the lips of my 
cunt.  I could feel those thick walls touching her finger, grasping 
her.  I imagined they were trying to pull her inside, and I could 
feel that she wanted to go, for her finger bent at the knuckle and 
suddenly it slid into me.
	I found myself holding my breath and closing my eyes, seeing 
nothing and doing nothing but feeling, Aimee', feeling that finger 
slowly slide into me.  Not like Styur, not one monstrous blunt cruel 
weapon, but a gentle finger, one that knew the insides of a woman 
because it belonged not only to a woman, but to one I was desperately 
losing my heart to.  The finger touched me inside, touching me in 
places where no gentle touch had ever been.  It turned slowly, 
feeling me thoroughly, learning me inside and out.  As she touched 
me, I heard a soft motion of water and felt warm breath above my 
mouth.  I opened my eyes.  Myr hovered above me, and then she lowered 
her mouth and kissed me again.
	I was lost to her completely.  Our kiss was probably the most 
passionate yet, a total abandonment of myself and my dignity.  To 
Neret with my dignity, Aimee', one should not be reserved in moments 
like that.  The women slowly lifted me to the water's surface, and as 
Myr slid down my chin with her kisses I leaned back and closed my 
eyes again.  Someone placed their hands under my head, holding it 
above water that I might breathe.
	Myr's warm kisses touched my neck and finally, for one brief 
moment, enclosed the nipple of my breast.  Then she vanished beneath 
the water.  She reappeared between my legs, parting them slowly with 
her hands to open me, expose me.
	And then, as if the pleasures before had not been enough, she 
kissed my mound.  At first, I felt the breath of her nose against my 
skin, and the press of her lips to my pubic hair, and finally the 
touch of her tongue against my lips.  I moaned aloud once more as her 
mouth pressed to my folds, opening me, exposing me for her tasting.  
I thought I would die, and die happy, at that moment.  I felt heat 
flood my groin and fluid flood my channel, neither water nor menses.  
I merely wished for more.
	She gave me what I wished for as her tongue pressed and opened, 
licked and demanded.  The women held my legs open.  Not against my 
will, but because of it; I had given my permission to Myr, almost to 
do what she would, and they were here to assist in that 
permission.
	It was simply... indescribable.  I am an old woman now, Aimee', 
and still I cannot forget that night.  Her tongue pressed in 
deepwards and downwards.  I wished for more.  She found those places 
in my body that few men can, where the pleasure is simply far too 
much for even an old body like mine to withstand.
	She gave me everything I wished for.  When I climaxed, Aimee', I 
screamed so loud every woman in the room knew what transpired in our 
tub if they did not already.  The women held me, restrained me, kept 
me from kicking Myr or myself, from hurting any one of them.
	Myr ceased her kisses, picking her head up to appraise me.  I 
reached out for her, my hands trembling without knowing what to do 
next.  She was just out of reach, and my hand slid down her water-
slicked skin, for just a moment touching her breast.  She tapped the 
arm of the woman to my right, and they slowly lowered me back into 
the water, releasing me.
	I grabbed her and held her tight, and then, finally, I cried.  
Not like I had the first night when Dyn and Cyl had spoken to me, but 
total,  utter abandonment to tears.  It was the most important moment 
of my life, Aimee', because it taught me the most important lesson I 
had ever learned; that to leave an old life behind, one must cry it 
out.  One must put it into tears and squeeze it from the body.
	Myr held me, and finally all the women closed around us, arms 
linked, bodies holding.  Among the seven were girls as old as I to 
crones many decades my senior.  All held me, all touched me.  And 
finally, finally, Aimee', I was finished.
	Myr petted my hair gently.  "Are you well, Beth'Sany?"
	I nodded.  "Yes, Myr.  I am.  In your arms, I am."
	"Mistress Cyl?" Myr asked, her tone confused.
	Cyl'Dia reached down and petted both our heads.  "Beth'Sany, you 
are accepted, and you may stay a friend in my household forever if 
you so need."
	Blinking through the tears, I didn't know what to say, other 
than "Thank you."  I reached out for her, and she allowed me to pull 
her into my embrace.  Warrior, slave, and refugee.  I imagine we made 
a strange household, even then.  But for me, for Cyl, and for Myr, it 
was to be a working, loving house for many years.

	Silence reigned in the small parlor room for a moment.  Aimee' 
seemed to realize it was her turn to speak.  "What happened to you 
and Myr?"
	Beth's smile was tinged with an intense sorrow.  "That is 
another tale for another day, Aimee'.  Not even the next lesson, but 
the one beyond that, I will tell you of sadness that not even love 
can save."  She stood up slowly.  "I see I have managed to pull one 
of Master Darynn's tricks.  I have kept you much past your usual 
appointed time simply because rather than a lesson, I chose to tell 
you tales.  Come, on with the cloak; although the snows have stopped 
it is still very cold out."
	Aimee' followed Bethsany's directions, collecting up her lesson 
books and pulling on her cloak.  She looked up at Bethsany.  "Thank 
you."
	"Nonsense, child.  It's my job.  That it is all true simply 
makes the telling seem richer.  And it's good that this old sack of 
bones relive her happinesses once in a while.  Good night, Aimee'.  
Give my regards to Master Darynn when you see him later this 
week."
	"I shall.  Good night, Madame Bethsany."
 

			Aimee', Chapter 7


	In the depths of a cold and still winter night, Bethsany stood 
by the window and committed an act rare and precious to her: she 
prayed.  It was Tuesday, and in keeping with their agreement Aimee' 
was supposed to come and study with one of her girls.  It had been 
three weeks since the last tale; on the two occasions since, Aimee's 
appearance had shown clear signs of abuse and struggle, and of the 
two occasions, she had looked worse the second time.
	Bethsany wondered if Teltirray was getting what he wanted out of 
Aimee', and if so, would it be enough.  She knew now of Teltirray and 
his hunger.  She understood him so clearly it terrified her.  She 
knew, ever since she had killed the Centaur who had enslaved her, 
what it felt to take the pain of an enemy, and eventually, to take 
the life.  She knew that an innocent could bring even stronger 
sensation.  She knew how to feed on that.  And she knew she could 
draw pleasure from it.
	It no longer made her wonder.  She knew what kind of person 
could draw that kind of pleasure, for she was that kind of person.  
But she was also stronger than that.  She knew what it meant to be 
human and not an animal.  Few animals killed for pleasure.  Man was 
one of those few.  More than the pleasure of power, she understood 
the pleasures of love.  She understood the joy of sharing.  She knew 
that life was for living and not taking.
	So she prayed, quietly, to a name she had not invoked in many 
years.  Kasho, the goddess who gives women strength, had been her 
guiding name for many years when she had lived in Darachmod, and now 
she called on the name again.
	A knock came at the door.  She had been staring at the sky for 
some  time, and now directed her attention at the ground.  Footsteps 
in the snow marked the passage of a lone walker, footsteps that were 
slowly being obliterated by the fall of white flakes.  She rose from 
where she knelt and walked to the door.  "Yes?" she asked the girl 
who stood there.
	"Aimee' has arrived.  I have sent her to see Rissim."
	"Was it that bad, Brandy?"
	The girl nodded slowly.  Tears stood in her eyes.  Bethsany drew 
her breath and sighed.  Perhaps there would be no chance to tell 
Aimee' the final tale.  Perhaps it would be better if she crammed 
both stories into one day.  She debated.
	What she wanted, more than anything else, was to save Aimee's 
life.  To preserve her from the horrors and pains that Teltirray 
inflicted upon her in his demands for more.  She knew that he must 
have been making demands of both her personal strength and the 
magickal strengths that Darynn was helping to build within her.  
Although no mage can give another magical strength, when it exists in 
one, another can help give it meaning, focus, exercise.  Like the 
muscles of the body and the mind, the strength of magic must be 
exercised.  Like the strength of love, and even that of compassion, 
doing leads to the strength to do more.  Bethsany had chosen her 
path, as Darynn had his.  She hoped Aimee' would have a worthy path 
to choose.
	"Take me," she finally said.  Brandy turned and walked down the 
stairs.  Down one flight, and then another, into the basement where 
Rissim, the chirgeon Beth kept in her employ, was applying alcohol to 
a wound over Aimee's left breast.  It looked like a burn.  Although 
she bore it stoically, the pain in the young girl's eyes was both 
apparent and undeniable.  There could be no surcease.
	"Forgive me, Miss Bethsany, I... The chirgeon will not allow me 
to kneel."
	"Don't you dare, Aimee'," Bethsany said, reaching down to touch 
Aimee's face.  "You need not bow to me.  You know that better than I 
do.  Do not bow to me."
	"Yes, Miss."
	"Aimee', he will kill you."
	"Probably, Miss.  This may even be our last talk."
	"I feared as much."  Bethsany closed her eyes.  "I had, at 
first, the wish to tell you two tales in as many visits, one of my 
day amongst the Braban, and of the day I lost Myr.  I shall, instead, 
tell both together, although they were separated by many years.  I 
want you to hear both of them, Aimee'."  In her sickened heart, 
Bethsany cursed Teltirray.  He at least had the "common decency" to 
allow his girls to hide themselves and then kill themselves when he 
reached this stage.  Aimee', though, continued to play out the role 
of student with her teachers.  Teltirray was as much as telling 
Darynn and Bethsany what he did to Aimee', and he did not care if 
they knew.
	Aimee' stared, not saying a word.  "Do you want to hear 
them?"
	"Yes, Miss."
	Bethsany glanced back at the chirgeon and at Brandy.  Both had 
heard this tale once or twice before; another sit-through would hurt 
neither.

	It was in the early summer of the first year I lived in 
Darachmod that the Braban came to visit.  Six of them appeared at, or 
perhaps I should say over, the gates of the city, smiling and waving.  
One has trouble imagining the Braban, but if the Darachmod have a 
living model, the Braban are it.  Each woman of the Braban stood over 
twelve feet tall; each towered over any woman in Darachmod.  One does 
not fear women like that, for one cannot; I merely stood in awe of 
their immensity.  Having known the love of both Myr and Cyl, together 
and separately, I felt free to admit that I immediately knew lust for 
the women of the Braban.
	They were led into the city amongst singing and waving and 
cheering.  These were clearly friends, beloveds.  I had heard many 
stories about the Braban, of how they assisted their smaller sisters 
in many a battle, often appearing at the last minute.  Nobody knew if 
they were goddesses or mortals or giants; all we knew was that they 
were our allies and, sometimes, our final help.
	That night, Darachmod became engulfed in a celebration honoring 
the arrival of the women of the Braban.  A fire was cast in the 
center of the city on that hot summer night, pigs were slaughtered 
and spitted over cooking fires, and the wine flowed freely.
	I had a great surprise that night, although thinking back on it, 
I suppose it shouldn't have come so greatly.  As a well-known warrior 
amongst the Darachmod, Cyl clearly could hold the attention of even a 
jaded Braban.  But I was still speechless when she stepped up behind 
me.  "I know that look in your eyes," she spoke to me slowly.  "I 
know lust when I see it in you."  She laughed gently then.  "I see it 
every day when you look at Myr."
	I swallowed.  "Cyl, do you feel upset that I feel that way for 
Myr, but not so strongly for you?"
	Cyl shook her head.  "No, Beth, for I do not question the 
natural order of things.  The moons, the seasons, and the snows come 
at their own times and sometimes not at all.  The moons are always on 
time, the seasons usually, the snows usually not.  Love... love is 
never on time.  You love me in a different way.  You warm me, Beth, 
and you make me cry."
	"Cry?" I asked, turning around.  "I... I do not want to make you 
cry!"
	"It is a good cry, Beth.  Do not be ashamed because I have tears 
of joy for you.  I cannot explain.  It comes from within.  Myr is 
another different thing.  She is your age, lithe of limb and strong 
of bone and lovelier than the summerest flowers to watch.  Do not be 
ashamed of your love and your lust for her.  It is nothing to be 
ashamed of.  Please.  Now, would you like me to introduce you to my 
friend?"
	"You have a friend amongst the giants?"  I asked.
	"Viselle!" Cyl called out, attracting the attention of a blonde 
Braban, one of the largest, sitting by the fire with a large mug of 
beer and a larger grin.  "Viselle, I would like you to meet Bethsany.  
Bethsany, Viselle.  Both of you are amongst my most counted 
friends."
	Although she was sitting on the ground and I standing, her head 
and mine were at the same height.  "It gladdens my heart to know the 
friend of a true warrior like Cyl.  How did you come to know her?  
Cyl, she was  not born here I take it?"
	Cyl shook her head.  "We rescued her from a band of brigand 
Centaurs, the leader of which was using her as a toy for his gross 
lusts.  After we attacked them, we found her standing over his dead 
body.  A few of our arrows had slowed him down, but his final death 
had come from the blood he lost after she cut off his privates in 
revenge."
	"Truly?" the Braban asked me, stunned.
	I nodded, ashamed.  I felt both pleasure and fear at the memory.  
Sometimes, the nightmares came back.
	"Well," Viselle said, "That is truly the kind of friend Cyl 
should know well, and take care of.  You are so young.  Myr's 
age?"
	"Yes, Miss."
	Viselle roared with laughter.  The sound echoed throughout the 
city streets and passed over me like a spell of stunning.  I'm afraid 
I pulled away slightly in fear.  Her monstrous hand reached out to 
touch my shoulder, and I shied away further.  "I will not hurt you, 
Beth.  I want to know you as Cyl and Myr know you."  I eased; her 
voice and manner were no longer threatening; with one simple sentence 
all my terror drained from me.  Her hand gripped my shoulder gently, 
and I sensed the great strength held within it, many times that in my 
own hand.  It covered me from my collarbone down to elbow.  Try that, 
Aimee'.  Place your hand on your shoulder and see how much it covers.  
Imagine that kind of touch over your entire body.  I think few people 
try this experiment and would be surprised if they knew just how big 
their hands truly are.  Perhaps artists, especially those who can get 
the hands right, know.  
	"Vis!  Vis!  Vis!" she said.  "Call me Vis!  I am nobody's 
'Miss,' Beth.  I am a bloodied warrior and a true lover of women and 
nobody calls me anything but my name!"  She laughed again.  "I cannot 
imagine being a 'Miss' anything."  She paused, thinking soberly, then 
said "Come, sit.  Tell me your tales."
	I sat by her side and did as she asked, telling her my tales.  I 
had very few by that time, although I think I had more than Myr.  She 
had heard all of Myr's before, except for the ones about loving me.  
Myr managed to make me blush strongly with her talk, embarrassing me 
with her frank talks about my beauty and my enthusiasms.  I had a 
little revenge by replying back in kind, although it became clear 
later in the conversation just how much I had revealed about myself 
in the doing.
	I drank beer, too, and I'm afraid I became a little drunk.  
Eventually, as the night grew cool I found myself lying against Vis' 
body, my head on her thigh, when I felt her hand caress the top of my 
head.  That may not sound like much, but it was ecstasy to me.  "You 
are very beautiful, Beth'Sany."
	"Th... thank you, Vis."
	"Don't thank me, Beth'Sany.  If you have a deity, thank Her, for 
she gave you that beauty."  Her hand stroked my arm slowly.  I felt 
her massive body shift slightly, then felt her breath against the 
side of my face.  "It is hard for someone sized as I to be subtle, 
but truly, I would like you and Myr to join me for the night."
	I didn't quite know what to say.  I was frightened; would I even 
be noticed touching a body of her size?  Would even two of us matter 
to her?  She weighed many stone more than we did.
	My curiosity and lust won out.  I wanted to know; I had to know.  
Apparently Myr did as well because the first thing she said after Vis 
spoke was, "Do you really mean that?"
	"I do," Vis said.  "Your mistress, Cyl, and I had a few 
occasions between us many years ago.  Do you remember, Cyl?"
	"Well I do, Vis.  Take them, if they'll go."
	"I am going!" Myr replied.
	"Then I am too!" I insisted.
	Vis smiled and nodded.  As she stood up, I had a strong 
awareness of several things.  That she had drunk as much as Cyl, Myr, 
and I put together, that standing she was even larger than I had 
imagined seeing her sitting on the ground, and that should she fall 
over anyone in the path of her dropping body would be in serious 
danger.  So we were careful to stay with her and yet to also stay 
quite far out of her way.
	She led us to her tent.  The city had not rooms large enough for 
her or her friends anywhere, so they had set up tents in the center.  
Not that tents were required; the weather was both at its warmest and 
certainly was also surprisingly dry.  Cyl had told me that it 
frequently rained at this time of year.
	Inside, all was as one would expect, with the one obvious 
difference: Everything was scaled to her size.  She sat down hard on 
her  sleeping cot.  "Come here," she said, gesturing to us.  I was 
easily in range of her grasp and she was still steady enough to catch 
me almost without effort.  I giggled and as she gathered me up I 
grabbed ahold of her tunic and held on.  "Vis?" I asked.
	"Yes, Beth?"
	"May I tell you you are beautiful?"
	"It's a lovely lie, Beth."
	Myr demurred.  "But it is not a lie, Vis!  You are 
beautiful."
	Vis smiled and held out her other hand.  Myr took it; it was 
like seeing a massive glove cover Myr's hand and part of her arm.  
The delicacy of Vis' touch surprised me, as her hand stroked my back 
and dragged purrs from my lips.  
	It's hard to forget that night, so special and different.  I 
instantly fell into a wishful trance of wanting to help Vis, wanting 
to make her feel a pleasure that we all get so very rarely from the 
world around us.  As the three of us stripped off our clothing, Vis 
tossed her shirt carelessly away, and it landed on me instead.  I 
realized just how large she was; the cloth of her tunic was a tent to 
me; I could sleep under it and feel protected from colder winds.
	Naked, we descended upon one another, we three.  My mouth found 
her chin first, as she pulled me up towards her.
	I cannot get across to you how large she was.  My feet rested 
literally in the tangle of her pubic hair even as I strained to reach 
up and kiss her cheek.  She was simply a giant.  Her fingers were as 
thick as sausages.
	Myr and I crawled down between her thighs and, with plenty of 
room, licked at the enormous expanse of her sex, pulling her lips 
into our mouth.  Her clitoris was the size of my thumb, large even 
for a woman of her size, and it took both of us to suck on it, in 
turns.  I filled her by placing my arm within her, halfway to my 
elbow before I reached the end of her vagina and touched her 
cervix.
	That, oh!  Aimee', it was like touching magic.  It was a doorway 
into that chamber that made her a woman.  Everything else about her 
was made to support that one purpose, and there was none other.  I'm 
sure others disagree with me and talk about the warrior spirit or the 
communal strength or whatever, but to bear children, that is the 
pleasure of a woman only.  Men have warriors and men have 
communities, but they do not carry child.
	I feel... I feel so inadequate describing this night to you, 
Aimee'.  I want to tell you the joys of touching her, of feeling the 
wet slickness of her insides surrounding my arm, my wrist, my hand, 
of feeling the pulse of her blood against the skin.  
	And when she returned the pleasure, her massive tongue against 
my cunt, Aimee', how can I describe it?  There is no feeling like 
that in all the world, her broad pad, a little less accurate, a 
little more impressive.  The slick wetness that invaded not just my 
cunt but covered my thighs.  As she licked me, Myr covered my face 
with her own sex, doubling my pleasure until I was utterly lost to 
it.  I came in spasm and moans that only Myr's muff prevented from 
being heard 'round the city whole!
	Once my pleasure was sated and we sat down to sleep, I reflected 
that no pleasure like that would ever stream through my body ever 
again.  In a way, I was correct, for even though I saw Vis every year 
for the next five years, and though I was to love with her in  many a 
warm summer visit, nothing ever reached the joy and wonder of that 
first time.
	The same, Aimee', was true of my loving of Myr.  Yet my 
pleasures with her grew greater, not less, at the turn of the 
seasons.  With her, I grew to treasure constancy and comfort, not 
adventure and change.  She returned that comfort in equal measure.  
We were lovers and friends, stability in the changing sea of women.  
And I did love her so.
	What changed?  Ah, that is the question.  For Myr asked for her 
freedom from Cyl because of my friendship.  And Cyl granted it 
without reservation.  I thought myself the happiest woman that ever 
lived.
	What changed, dearest Aimee', was a discovery that started with 
Vis and ended with a tragedy.  The tragedy was not something unusual 
or dramatic, except perhaps to my story.  Myr died.  In the most 
simple of ways, too.  We were picking apples in the city orchard, 
doing our duty to ourselves and our city, when she fell from a branch 
and broke her leg.  The leg never healed; indeed, it grew worse.  
Something within her grew out, burst in pain.  Finally, she slipped 
into that merciful sleep where the embattled go to escape the pain, 
and she never returned.  She died within a month.

	Bethsany wiped a tear from her eyes as the girl named Brandy 
wrapped her arms around her.  "I am sorry, Momma," the young girl 
said, kissing Bethsany's face.
	Bethsany reached back and hugged her.  "I will be fine, Brandy," 
she said softly.  "It is an ancient tragedy.  I know, that makes it 
no less tragic, but the wounds of it have healed and now I face a 
world with less fear.  But perhaps with less love."
	"Bethsany?" Aimee's face was stained with slight tears, like the 
old matron's.  "How did you come to leave Darachmod?  That was the 
second half of your tale."
	"Aye," Bethsany replied.  "So it was.  And we have not much time 
to tell it.  But I shall endeavor to do my best."

	In the spring of the following year, as in every year, the women 
of  Darachmod prepared to travel down to the city of Melefar to trade 
the products of the past winter's efforts.  Darachmod was poor in 
metals but rich in growing things, and frequently the lower cities 
coveted the fruits of our fields.  We used this to our advantage, 
dressing our travellers in great baubles of steel and copper, 
outfitting our warriors with the brightest of armors.  Lost in all 
that and as badly in grip of their testicles as ever, the metalsmiths 
of Melefar were easy prey for the deals of our best merchants.  
	I asked to go with them.  It was a trade I wished to learn and, 
truth be known, I could no longer stand to live in the house that Myr 
had built.  Perhaps not the outside shell, but every trace of the 
indoors looked of her and smelt of her.  Her herbs I still found in 
the pantry; one whiff of her favorite cilantro and melancholy swept 
me.  I needed to get away from my memories, and alcohol did not 
answer my needs.
	Dyn readily agreed, as did Cyl.  Both knew that I might not 
return, that the men of Melefar would easily treasure a beauty of 
Darachmod for themselves, and although I no longer presented myself 
easy prey to their crude wishes I knew I could easily summon the 
desire of any of their lesser minds.
	We headed out on a rainy morning in early spring.  Although the 
weather was wet, it was also lovingly warm.  I had come to view all 
the blessings of nature as gifts, and this was truly one of them.  
Better, perhaps, was that by afternoon the rain cleared, the road 
never so badly mudded as to foul the asses.  The company was twelve 
strong; eight warriors lightly armored astride beautiful chargers 
guarded my three merchanting companions, who were named Tann, Fahr, 
and Fela.  Tann was by far the loveliest of the three, a raven-haired 
woman with eyes the palest blue the clearest sea had ever seen.  Soft 
and round, she quickly chose me as her bedmate and I joyfully agreed.  
Although the beautiful strength of Myr and Cyl and Vis and Dyn had 
their attractions, I recognized that I was destined to be a big 
woman, as I am now, and I found such a body as Tann's beautiful to 
behold.
	At first, I was concerned that I had become attracted to a woman 
who had no interest in lovemaking, but I found a few days later that 
I was wrong.  She was simply slower than most.  I found that 
reassuring.  She wanted my pleasures, but only if we were both sure 
of our willingness to share.
	On the fourth night we camped in the forest at the foot of the 
mountains, six days from Melefar, when she finally turned to me.  
"Beth, do you think me beautiful?"
	"Tann?" I whispered, surprised.  "How can you ask?  You are the 
most beautiful woman in this entire dozen!"
	"Don't let Fahr here you say that," Tann whispered back in the 
dark, "She's not known for her lack of jealousy."  I nodded, smiling, 
as she closed the distance between us and her lips found mine, 
kissing earnestly.  I knew by then how not to keep my hands off a 
woman and reached out to stroke her belly through the rough texture 
of the lace she wore underneath her heavier dayclothes.
	We tumbled to the bedding as her breasts tumbled out of her 
outfit.  Hers were very large and lovely, with a touch of droop that 
accentuated her completely.  I could bury myself in them and inhale 
forever.
	On the other hand, although I was destined to be a big woman I 
was forever doomed to have small hills for teats, firm but not very 
impressive.  I was to forever envy women who had large breasts, but I 
was also to find great pleasure in them, too.
	She giggled as I played with hers, caressing them back and 
forth.  "Now, Beth," she chided playfully, "Let me have my fair 
share, too."
	She pushed me back onto the bed and undressed both of us, 
tossing aside her clothing.  She smelled of lilacs and light, and her 
hair had the scent of honey as it fell in straight lines down about 
her face.  She kissed me as her fingers sought out my privates and 
stroked my lips.  We kissed with our tongues.  She slowly pushed my 
legs apart as her fingers sought deeper.  I coated them with my 
wetness.  She gasped at my enthusiasm, I think, because she told me 
later her nipples were not all that sensitive, and in a city of women 
large breasts were common.  But I had gone for so long without the 
attention of anyone that the caresses of one woman were more than 
enough to inflame me.
	Her fingers went deeper within me.  I was completely entranced 
by the feeling of her within me; Myr, for some reason, had not liked 
having fingers inside her and avoided putting her fingers into me.  
What Tann was doing was something of a treat.
	She slid down between my thighs and pressed her sweet mouth to 
my lips, licking the insides of my thighs.  She told me to look at 
her, and 
I did just in time to watch her pull her fingers from my cunny and 
place them in her mouth, her lips pursed around them to catch every 
last droplet of moisture.  Then she slid them back into me, her warm 
breath sweeping over my mound, and then the touch of her tongue to my 
mound.  I grew light-headed with the pleasure she gave me.
	She licked as well as any woman knew how, her mouth absolutely 
talented with its pressures and pleasures.  Her tongue flickered over 
my clit and her fingers stroked the walls of my cunt, finding all the 
secret places here and there within me, making my chest heave with 
gasps and moans.
	She was a merchant, but like me she was also a farmer, and one 
of the many things we carried to market were early summer squash, 
shaped like a man's sex.  Although I don't think any healthy man has 
had a sex that was dark, textured green, nor have I ever seen one 
that really had the rounded corners this one did to make it look 
round.  She reached into the basket by her bed and pulled one out; I 
watched, a little scared, as she pulled it up under her chin between 
my thighs.  "Easy," she said gently as the cold tip of the vegetable 
touched the insides of my thighs.  It slid along my leg until it 
pressed against the skin between them.  Her fingers pulled me a 
little more open and the tip of the squash slid into me.
	I gasped from the cold, for that vegetable was as chill as the 
night.  At first.  But as Tann licked my sensitive flesh and coaxed 
two explosions from me, she began to slide the squash back and forth.  
I was fuller than I had been since killing Styur, and suddenly I knew 
what I wanted.  I wanted the attention of man.
	None of these thoughts, however, distracted me from what Tann 
was doing.  At least, not much.  I gasped and twisted under her 
expert mouth, until finally I found myself gently hitting her 
shoulders to get her to stop; I could take no more.
	She told me, "You are beautiful, Beth."  But I didn't hesitate, 
getting up as the squash slid out of me and pushing her to the 
bedding.  I wanted to feast on her.
	One of the reasons I love larger women is that they have such 
soft bellies, and a belly is what defines a woman.  Surely, we have 
teats and cunts, but it is in there that I find the definition of 
woman.  I kissed and licked hers, punishing it with peppered kisses, 
licking at her belly button and her breasts, sliding down between her 
legs and kissing her large thighs, looking forward to the taste of 
her cunny.
	She had no hair down there.  I found that a mystery in the 
extreme, but she later explained that she shaved it off at her home-
love's request.  "It gets in the teeth," she said.  Her cunny was 
baby smooth and soft, and as I kissed the lips I realized that the 
fat of her body caused even those to swell.
	Perhaps I make Tann sound to be the world's largest woman.  Not 
at all true; she was actually smaller than I am now.  But for her, 
the softness was distributed to perfection, in her teats, her 
softened belly, her legs and her cunt.  I licked at her as she parted 
her legs; her fluids were the sweet droplets of a woman who rarely, 
if ever, ate meat, clear and, I swear Aimee', as pure water-blue as 
her eyes.  She oozed sweetness and I licked at every little drop that 
coursed from her hole down the line of her buttocks.
	I pressed my face between her thighs, getting myself thoroughly 
wet as I licked at her sweetness, slopping as a happy pig against her 
fluids, tasting the reddening pinkness of her vagina and suckling, 
literally, on her clitoris.
	Apparently I did a good job, too.  As I seized the squash and 
pressed it inwards, she moaned and twisted and came, her fists 
striking the floor of the tent.  Her legs trembled and threatened to 
squeeze me between them, but she knew better than that; I would have 
stopped if I lost air, after all.  
	When we were done, we cleaned each other up as well as we could 
without leaving to find a stream and bedded down for the night.
	As was the custom, we took over an Inn, two women to a room.  
The best Inn for our purposes was a place called the Tired Dog, a 
name fitting with the feeling we women had as we fell into the place.  
Tired and dogged.
	Although I was well and easily familiar with life in cities when 
I was 13, I was now nineteen years old and found my memories and my 
vision disagreeing on a few points.  None of them were any great 
deals by themselves, but added up they made me wonder if perhaps I 
had been away from cities too long.
	The next day we made our deals and sold our wares.  I was 
surprised at how easily we wangled deals out of men who, to other 
men, looked to be the stingiest and most unfair dealers in all the 
world.  It was more fun then was fair, I guess. But at night, as we 
headed back towards the Tired Dog, I realized that I wanted this life 
again.  I wanted to stay in the city, return to city life and enjoy 
the hustle and bustle of the city.  Worst of all, I found myself 
staring at men with an ache in my loins that would not go away.  I 
didn't know what to do with it at all, and I was afraid to ask Tann 
about it.
	That night, Tann turned in early.  Although I probably could 
have interested her in play, she didn't seem all that lively that 
night, as if the day's contact with men had drained her of the energy 
to spend on women.  I, on the other hand, decided to spend at least 
some of my evening downstairs.  Three of the warriors from Darachmod 
were also down there, so I didn't think I would have any trouble.
	As I made my way back into the darkened tavern, the sounds of 
uproarious laughter reached my ears.  I wondered what they were doing 
down there that could be so entertaining.
	My eyes looked across the room, where all the patrons were all 
pointed, and I could see the target of their laughter... a stage had 
been erected and a puppet show was in progress.  There were two 
characters on the stage, one a man and the other a woman, and through 
the artistry of such control as puppets take the woman was beating 
the man with a skillet.  The audience seemed to think it was 
uproariously hilarious.
	"No, m'lady!" the man's voice came from behind the curtained 
puppet stage, "I meant the fat on the meat!  The meat!"
	"That's not what you were staring at!"  The audience roared 
again.  I guess I missed the starting part of the joke since I didn't 
see anything funny in the punch line.  Ah, well.  The play ended 
shortly, to be followed by another, again a sort of comedy, this time 
about a cruel husband who loses his manhood in the end.  The women in 
the audience all loved it, but the men were grabbing their crotches 
to protect themselves by the time the play ended.  As I was watching, 
though, I felt very strange.  Because the voice of the young man 
playing all the males parts was entrancing.  I don't know if it was 
the fact that, for the first time, there were men all around me, but 
I knew that that young man, in particular, was holding my fancy 
without a doubt.  His voice entranced me.
	"We're going to take some air," I heard him say.  "It gets a bit 
stifling under here.  Misha, if you will?"
	A young woman's head poked up from behind the stage, her hands 
full of puppet strings and the wooden slats to hold them.  She smiled 
as she put them aside and brushed her full, black hair back out of 
the way.  My heart felt heavy; and I found myself hoping that she and 
the man back there with her did not have something between them.  I 
was confused, Aimee', so confused.
	It got no better when he finally stuck his head out from behind 
the curtain as well.  He, too, had a full head of long, black hair.  
His eyes were large and bright and he had a smile on his sweaty face 
that would charm the virginity out of even the most innocent of 
maidens.  I had to get to know him.
	Then he stepped out from behind the curtain.  Aimee', you don't 
know what confusion is until the lust and desires I was feeling are 
blended with the fear and loathing that accompanied that motion, for 
he was a centaur.  Not a barbaric one like Styur and his band.  No, 
this young man'taur was well groomed, dressed.  I wanted him.  And I 
feared him.  Yet he seemed so likeable, so approachable.  But, he was 
an actor.  I didn't know if his look was as much facade as the voice 
he took on when he played behind the curtain.
	And yet, I did not want to fear him.  I wanted to approach him.  
So I did.  As he grabbed a mug of beer and stepped outside into the 
cool spring night air, I followed him.  He was standing there, just 
outside the door, staring up a the stars.  "Sir?" I asked.
	"Hello," he said, turning to me with a smile.  "Are you enjoying 
the show?  Say, you're not one of those women from Darachmod, are 
you?"
	I nodded, fearfully.  "Yes, I am."
	"I understand you had a little trouble with the Gespil last 
year.  They are a brutal people, the Gespil."
	Although I suspected that I knew what he was talking about, I 
had never heard Styur refer to his people by name.  I said, "I do not 
know the word."
	"The barbarian Centaurs from the north who were flushed out in 
the last great war up there.  They took refuge in your mountains, I 
understand.  I want to assure you that not all Centaurs are like 
that, just as I'm sure you know not all humans are wont to be kind 
and loving, either.  I'm glad your people wiped them out in the end.  
They deserved it.  And their bloodline has been preserved elsewhere.  
We'll keep the breed alive, but hopefully not the attitude."  He 
grinned and sipped his beer.  "What's your name?"
	"Bethsany," I replied, nervously.  
	"Adam," he said, reaching out a hand.  I took it, and he shook 
gently.  "Glad to meet you, Bethsany.  I'm always pleased to meet 
someone who actually comes out and thanks me for my work.  It doesn't 
happen nearly as often as I'd like."
	"Adam," a voice came from the door.  "Time to get started 
again."
	"I haven't even finished one mug!" 
	"That's because you're slow.  Come on!"  The female centaur, 
Misha he had called her, stood there, waiting for him, tapping her 
front hoof. 
	"In a second," he said.  She tossed her hair in annoyance and 
walked back inside.  "You see what I have to live with?"
	"Are you and she... ?"
	He laughed.  "A long time ago.  Misha and I work together very 
well, but we've no bent to be lovers anymore."  He gave me a curious 
look.  "Why do you ask?"
	"I... I..."
	He smiled.  "It's just a body and a voice, Bethsany.  I do this 
for a living."  With that, he walked back into the Inn.  I watched 
the whole show, enraptured by him.  I don't think there was anything 
to it other than my curiosity, my lust, and an instinct that said he 
was right.  He would be safe.  I wanted him to be, at least for one 
night, mine.
	As the show was breaking down, he waved to me.  "Did you really 
watch me all night long?"
	"Uh-huh," I said to him.  "I... "  I looked away.  I couldn't 
look him in the eyes and say what I wanted to say.  "I had to stay."  
I looked at his face, then away again.  "I... I need something.  I 
haven't ever been with a gentle man."
	"Do you suspect me of being gentle?"  I nodded, looking up into 
his eyes.  He laughed.  "You may be right.  But I am a Centaur, 
Bethsany."
	I looked away again.  "I know.  I could handle that."
	"How do you know?  You're a woman of Darachmod.  Have you ever 
slept with a man, much less a Centaur?"
	I found the courage Darachmod had given me and looked into his 
face.  "Adam, I know I could handle you.  I was not originally a 
woman of Darachmod.  I was a slave of the... the... Gespil."
	His eyes went wide.  "And you're alive?  Oh Gods, that's...  I'm 
sorry.  I didn't know... What are you doing coming to me?"
	"I... I don't know!" I whispered.  "I wish I understood myself, 
but I don't."  I reached out and touched him on the arm.  "All I know 
is that I want you... to... "
	"Take you to bed?"  He sounded surprised.  I wonder why.
	I nodded.  "Please?"
	"What if..."  He glanced across the room, where one of the 
warriors from Darachmod sat, watching us with guarded eyes while we 
talked.  
	"I will talk to her."  He gave me a strange look, then nodded.  
I walked over to where she stood.  "Selam?  I am... spending tonight 
in Adam's company."
	She nodded.  "The time was coming."  She smiled, rested her hand 
on my arm.  "Never forget, Beth'Sany, that we all love you much.  One 
day, you will understand."  She rose and left, leaving me alone.  
Alone but for Adam.
	Like a guilty child, I followed him up the stairs to his room.  
Inside, he turned around (no mean feat for someone built the way he 
was!) and pulled me into his grasp.  I was surprised, but the smell 
of his skin so close to my nostrils inflamed my desire.  I did not 
understand it, but it was somewhat akin to the shame I felt when I 
had climaxed beneath Styur all those times.  Only, for this time, I 
was allowed to feel pleasure.  To enjoy the touch of my centaur 
lover, whom I had chosen for my bedmate tonight.  Whom I wanted.  
"Oh, Bethsany, what are you doing in my room?"  He looked me in the 
eyes.  "Don't you know I'm going to leave tomorrow?  Is that fair?"
	"Yes," I breathed.  "For there is no danger in loving you except 
what you choose to do, Adam.  I just need to be treated right 
tonight."
	"Very well," he smiled, touching the sides of my face with his 
hands and lifting my gaze to meet his.  He pulled me close, and I 
waited.  But instead of my lips, his mouth first touched my nose, 
then my cheek.  And then he kissed my mouth.  I moaned, Aimee', with 
a lust I knew was pure and honest.  <em>This</em> was what I wanted, 
truthfully, and I could not give it up.  I missed the attentions of 
men.  Although I loved women, and indeed, once I'd saturated myself 
of men for a while had returned to the loving arms of women again for 
many years afterwards, now, right now I needed the arms of a man.  
Adam was it.
	My hands roamed his chest, touching his body through the simple 
shirt he wore.  I looked up at him.  "Take this off," I implored him.  
He did, dropping it to the floor at our feet.  I am not a tall woman, 
but he was barely taller than I was.  I wondered at the size of his 
prick.  I wanted to find out.  I craved the idea of it being within 
me.
	I touched his naked chest.  His skin was light-olive and creamy 
soft; my hands glided over it as if they were oiled, even though I 
knew his skin was dry.  I looked down and touched his nipples, 
caressing them.  He gasped and shivered.  "Strong!"
	"Sorry," I said.
	"No, no, I like that.  It's just that it is a strong sensation.  
Please, be more careful when you do that."
	"I shall," I replied.  I grabbed him by the bicep and pulled him 
towards the bed.  We fell into it together, and I laughed gently.  
"We're being so serious!  This is pleasure!"
	"I don't want to hurt you."
	"If you hurt me, I will tell you.  Just like you told me."  I 
kissed him again, trying to treat him with the same strength I apply 
towards a woman.  He responded eagerly, and finally his hands found 
the courage to caress my breasts.  I gasped and moaned as his hands 
found the skin and caressed the flesh of my breasts.  Any of my girls 
will tell you I love to have my breasts touched, caressed, grabbed 
and stroked.  And he did.  "Harder," I moaned, telling him what I 
wanted, and feeling him give it to me.  He pulled at my nipples, and 
oh, Aimee', when he closed his lips about my nipples I thought I had 
died and gone to heaven.  I wanted him, I wanted all of him.  I felt 
his hands caressing my thighs, his fingers plying between them, 
seeking my insides, and when he found them his fingers made liquid, 
squishing sounds.  I was wet.  My hair was sodden with wants, and I 
admit that.  I wanted him so bad.  
	He pushed me back on the bed and dove between my legs with his 
head, licking and kissing me.  I was pulling up the bedsheets in mad, 
passionate lust, Aimee'.  There was no telling what I would do next, 
I was so crazed at the stroking, kissing, pleasing touching he was 
doing to me.  I couldn't go on forever like that, or could I?  His 
tongue was probing my secrets, and I knew one rumor was dead.  The 
women of Darachmod believed that no man could or would lick a woman 
properly.  Oh, but he knew!  He did!
	I climaxed under his tongue, Aimee', and I could not believe it 
when it happened.  I was delirious with pleasure even as I came, 
struggling underneath his strong grip.  He was holding me down, 
stopping my thrashing body from going anywhere.  Yet I knew if I has 
said "Let me go!" he would have.
	Finally, he did stop, and I think it was mostly because he knew 
I was tiring.  I could barely move by the fifth or sixth climax.  Oh, 
yes, I lost count.  I looked up from him, brushing the hair from my 
eyes, and then dove upon him, kissing him and biting his lips before 
sliding down to his torso.  And then onto the horse of him, desperate 
for more of  him.  I found his prick hidden between his rear legs.  
It was large, but after Styur nothing would ever be quite so 
dangerous.  I kissed and licked at it, and he needed no 
encouragement.  It dropped out and slid forward.  And still, I was a 
madwoman, because I tried to get all of it into my mouth.  I went 
crazy.  I wanted him.
	He tasted heady, as warm flesh should, with the sent of horse 
and man and sweat and even a little piss as I tasted his prick and 
felt the slick skin against my tongue.  I slid down until it was at 
the back of my mouth and I was gagging.  I wanted more of him. 
	I took him out, though, and stroked his prick with my hands 
while I buried my nose in the musky heft of his balls, tasting the 
furred sac that carried them and licking up the sweat that had 
collected there while he had labored under the hot flap that formed 
part of his curtain.  His fingers were still touching my cunt, still 
urging me onwards.  I was soaking.  He was hard and gasping.  
"Bethsany," he sighed.
	"Adam," I replied, looking up at him.  I slid off and away from 
him.  "Fuck me."
	"Now?"
	"Now," I gasped.  I slid off the edge of the bed and dropped my 
feet to the floor, spreading my legs wide.  I wanted my ass to be 
high in the air, an unmistakable target for him.  He grinned and slid 
off the bed as well.  "Very beautiful.  You are a wildcat, 
Bethsany."
	"I want to be your mare, not your cat!"
	"In either event, you're definitely a pussy worth taking."  He 
walked forward, taking care not to step on my feet with his forelegs.  
I felt his body cover mine, felt his hands in my hair.  "Beth... How 
gentle do you want me to be?"
	"Not at all," I moaned.  "I've had enough gentleness."
	"Then if I do this, it's okay?"  He reached down and gathered up 
my hair in his hands, pulling it hard.
	I moaned.  "Yes, yes, that's more than okay!"
	He took that as a cue.  He slid his hard prick up against my 
cunt and began to push, the head slowly finding its way inside me, 
and the rest of it following.  He pulled my hair harder, forcing my 
head down to the bed by the bend of my neck even as his huge prick 
found its way into my cunt.  I felt him enter me as his prick filled 
my belly.  I swooned, passionately wishing for more.  I knew I could 
take him forever.
	He thrust me down to the bed, pressing me against it.  I was 
sandwiched between the thrusting of his heavy belly and the mattress, 
and I was filled with the passion of his huge and lovely prick.  I 
came as he fucked me, Aimee', over and over.  Madly, screamingly.  
I'm afraid I may have woken up some of the other guests of the Inn.  
His back haunches thrust into me over and over, the lips of my cunt 
spread open for him and I felt the heat of his balls more than their 
impact with every push.  I gasped and groaned, twisted and whispered 
his name.
	"Oh, Beth!" he cried as his climax grew closer, and finally he 
came with a shout, his thrusts fast and hard as he finished his act, 
pushing me down to the bed even harder.  I feared being crushed, and 
I found that idea thrilling.  I climaxed again!  He was so 
wonderful.
	Afterwards, he stood up and slid off me.  I didn't move for 
several minutes, but lie there quivering as he sweetly grabbed a soft 
towel and cleaned the fluids that dripped down my legs.  "Beth, are 
you alright?"
	"Uh-huh," I replied  He reached under my shoulders and slowly 
turned me over.  I was completely deranged by then, unable to move 
from the pleasure he had given me. 
	"Bethsany, I'd like you to stay until Misha awakens us."
	"Adam, I would love to."  He smiled and pulled back the covers 
for both of  us.  We cuddled together for a while, and then I fell 
asleep in his arms.
	When I awoke the next morning, he had one arm tossed over me and 
one rearleg dangling over the side of the bed.  I can't tell you how 
good it felt to have a male's arms wrapped around me.  I wanted it to 
never end.  But one thing the women of Darachmod taught me, and that 
was to keep my promises.  When Misha woke us, I kissed him gently, 
thanked him, and returned to Tann.  I let Adam go with just two 
words.  "Thank you."
	I spent another year with the Darachmod before...

	A knock sounded at the door of the brothel.  "Bethsany!  You 
have my student in there!  Open up, you've had her for far too 
long!"
	Aimee' whimpered, and Bethsany recognized the voice too.  
Teltirray had come to claim his possession.  Brandy and Rissim both 
turned to look at the door, and then both turned to give Bethsany the 
same look.  Bethsany returned the glance, equally angry.  "I can't.  
I can't fight him."
	"He'll kill her!" Rissim whispered.
	"He'll kill us all if we don't," Bethsany replied.  She stood 
up, surprisingly fast for her bulk.  "Rissim, tell him we're 
downstairs.  Aimee', come with me."
	Aimee' joined Bethsany as they fled down the stairs.  "Rissim is 
right.  He will kill you."
	"No.  You're right.  He's not going to kill us.  Aimee', I may 
end up hating myself for the rest of my life, because I've come to 
like you very much.  But I won't see my household suffer pointless."  
She began rummaging through a large, wooden chest, coming up with a 
small necklace of silvery links.  "Here, take this.  It was... It was 
Myr's.  It has no magic.  It just has my memories.  Take it."  Aimee' 
stared.  "It's all I can do!" Bethsany whispered.  "Please."
	Aimee' took the necklace and put it on, just as the two women 
heard the door upstairs rack open.  "Bethsany!  Where do you have my 
student?"
	"Down here, Master Teltirray," Bethsany replied, trying to be 
calm.  "I was just finishing up.  I'm sorry it took so long."
	"Damn too long."  The tall and imposing Teltirray walked down 
the stairs.  His bald head glinted in the lantern light, but he 
looked as if he meant Bethsany no harm... at least not right now.  "I 
came to collect her.  I realized it was late, and I was walking by.  
I had assumed she would be home, but when I called my servant he said 
she had not arrived."  He reached out for Aimee's arm.  "I see you 
have helped her recover from this mornings... exercises."  His smile 
was so foul Bethsany had to repress an urge to reach up and choke the 
life out of him.  "Good.  Come, Aimee', we have some learning to do 
this night."  He started to haul her out of Bethsany's 
establishment.
	"Master Teltirray?" Bethsany asked.  "When will we be seeing 
Aimee' again?"
	"Next week, as usual."  He paused.  "If she makes it through her 
lessons.  Good night."  Even before she had her cloak about her 
shoulders, he tossed her out into the snow, walked out the door, and 
slammed it shut behind him.
	"What do we do now, Miss Beth?" Brandy asked.
	Bethsany was stunned at the Teltirray's brazenness.  He had as 
much as admitted that he was eventually going to kill Aimee'.  She 
looked from Brandy to Rissim, then back to Brandy.  "We call Mabel 
and Riza.  And we pray."

			Aimee', Chapter 8



	The bitter cold whipped against Aimee's face.  "My cloak, sir.  
Please!"
	"It is of no matter, Aimee'," Teltirray hissed, impatiently.  He 
disliked waiting, especially when a stupid girl like Aimee' slowed 
him down.  Although even he had to admit that she was less stupid 
than most.  Her beauty, like flawless amber, attracted him to her, 
and he had known so many months ago that he had to possess her.  He 
had arranged with the idiot at the orphanage to "tutor" her, so long 
as all record of her existence disappeared off their books.  If she 
died, there would be no investigation.  He knew that.  He had paid 
good money for that little "feature."
	He smiled.  "Feature."  The convenience of sloughing off one of 
these simple creatures was something he would easily pay for, just to 
be done with it.  Especially in these later years, now that he had 
found a route to power that once he had only dreamed of.  For that 
route, though, Aimee' was almost entirely used up.  Her body could 
not withstand the pleasures he sought for much longer, although he 
had to admit that both Bethsany and Darynn had trained her very well, 
for although his need for violence had increased a great deal, so had 
her survivability, just by her strength.  He would call on their 
services again to train the next one.
	Aimee' was sobbing silently as he hauled her through the 
snowbound streets.  "Silence, girl!" he snarled at her.  That 
insufferable noise would drive him mad after too long, and he could 
not bear to hear it.  "You will have plenty of tears when we get 
home."
	"Sir, please.  I cannot!"
	"Oh, you certainly can, Aimee'.  Because I so will that you 
can."
	"Sir!"
	"I said shut up!"  He released her long enough to slap her 
across the face, then grabbed her by the hair and pushed her in front 
of him.
	They reached his small, round home soon enough, and the doors 
opened to let him in.  "Good evening, sir," his chamberlain said.
	"I will be in the upper chambers tonight, Ricar.  See to it that 
I am not disturbed."
	"Of course, sir."  Teltirray watched, pleased, as he bowed and 
walked away, his back stiff and strong.  Men were like that, he 
thought, strong.  Even the ones who could not do magic deserved his 
respect far more than the soft, pathetic forms of the lesser sex, 
although the magic-less always deserved to be the chattel of men like 
him.
	He led her up the flights of stairs and into his bedroom.  
"Remove your clothes."
	"Sir..."
	"Do it!" he growled.  "Or I'll flay the skin from your 
bones."
	Aimee' looked away, and Teltirray saw her jaw clenched in anger.  
He smiled to himself, knowing that she was helpless to do anything.  
She would submit to his whims.  She removed her boots, then slowly 
undid her pants, picking up one leg at a time and sliding out of 
them.  She tossed the scarf aside, but as she removed her shirt she 
hesitated.  Teltirray saw a curious smile cross her face.  "You're 
dawdling!"  His anger grew as she hesitated longer, but finally she 
threw her tunic aside with a snarl.  Teltirray laughed.  "Is my pussy 
kitty angry?" he asked, soft and sarcastic.  "Get on that bed!"
	She hesitated, and he swore.  Without a word, he thought his 
favorite spell in her direction, simple <em>Pain</em>  and she 
buckled over, agonized.  Her stomach would tie itself into knots 
fighting the pain he was feeding her if he didn't let up.  Finally he 
did.  "Now, get on the bed, Aimee'."
	"You'll kill me anyway," she gasped, looking up at him.
	He backhanded her.  Although a mage and not a warrior, he was 
still a strong man, and she staggered back, landing on the bed.  He 
reached down and snatched her right wrist,  wrapping a black band 
around it.  "I could make it more painful, you know," he growled.
	"It already hurts!"
	"I'll make it worse, you weak bitch!"  He turned her over, and 
although she fought, his strength made her less than a rag doll, and 
he affixed another black band to her left wrist.  "Take her," he said 
to the air, and the bands pulled her into the air.  She whimpered.  
"That's it," he smiled at her.  "That's it.  Try and remember the 
spells Darynn taught you.  Try and use them.  Save yourself as much 
as possible.  It'll just make my pleasure last longer."
	Aimee' concentrated.  She tried to find the spells she knew, and 
in the back of her mind they were marshalling to her defense.  Chants 
flowed from her lips, soft and sensuous to her tongue as they healed 
her wounds and eased her pain.  "Good," Teltirray sniggered.  "That's 
it.  Make it last longer."   Her chest heaved as she breathed, 
gasping the words to spells that might make her last one more minute.  
She felt his hand caress her belly, her thighs.  More bands went onto 
her ankles, and Teltirray spread her legs apart.  His magic glued her 
to the wall over his bed like some obscene statue.  She had spent 
more than one night like that, over his head, forced to sleep that 
way for his amusement.  His hands touched her almost gently.  "Say 
goodbye, Aimee'."
	She looked down at him, holding her voice for a moment.  All she 
said was, "Goodbye."
	Teltirray grimaced, taking up a heavy, knotted scourge in his 
hands.  "Now," he said, "Scream for me."  The wall behind Aimee' grew 
warm, and she felt the flow of magic through it.  She didn't know 
what the magic was, but she could feel it coursing into her, as if 
seeking something within her.  It wasn't just magic... it was alive.  
It was looking for something within her, but she could almost feel 
it's frustration and she knew it didn't know how to find what it was 
looking for.
	Teltirray was smiling at her, his eyes alight with madness.  
"It's a demon," he said.  "A friend.  It... supplies me with the 
knowledge I need.  The cost, of course, is you.  Not that I mind."  
His smile twisted into an ugly snarl.  "It needs your pain, Aimee', 
but eventually even that won't do.  Then, it wants your life.  But it 
doesn't know how to find it."  He looked down at the whip.  "Pain is 
also his map.  And this... this will show him the way."
	He shouted as he brought the whip down against her body.  The 
blades of black leather crashed against her belly and she grunted in 
sharp pain.  The whip fell again, the tails landing hard against her 
thighs.  She squirmed, holding her tongue in, trying not to scream.  
The presence within her turned, seeking.  The whip came again, 
against her chest.  Ugly red streaks grew from her skin.
	As Teltirray struck her, harder and harder, he began cursing 
her.  "I let Darynn teach you too well how to handle pain."  His 
efforts grew harder as he slammed the whip into her skin, torturing 
her, giving her all the pain and suffering he could inflict.  The 
presence within her lived on the pain, enjoying it as much as it 
seemed ready to enjoy her death.  She could not afford to give in.
	The whip was too persuasive.  She bled from a dozen tortured 
slashes, the crimson fluid coursing down her body.  Darynn had told 
her, once, about how precious blood was, and Bethsany had talked 
about the magic of menstrual blood, and she herself knew what it 
meant to drop it to the soil.  The whip fell again, and finally she 
screamed.
	"Yes!" Teltirray shouted as he whipped her.  "Scream, Aimee', 
scream!"  She did.  She twisted and tore at her impenetrable bonds.  
Teltirray's face was covered in sweat, his muscles bunched, the whip 
flying over his head to strike at her body again and again in long, 
angry slashes.  Aimee' cried and screamed as the tears dripped off 
her chin and the blood streamed down her body and dripped from her 
toes onto Teltirray's pillow.
	As she screamed, her body fighting without her control, her mind 
came oddly to peace.  The demon was coming for her soul, now, and she 
found she could live with that.  She opened her eyes.
	In the background, she heard the sounds of the whip and the 
screams of her mouth, but in her eyes she saw only a door.  A 
curious, oaken door, encarved with runes, and at the center it read, 
simply, <em>Aimee'</em>   She knew where she stood, and she knew 
there was no reason to fight.  She threw the door open and waited for 
the demon to come for her.
	It came.  A green, ugly thing, shaped like a man with the head 
of a cow and the muscles of some corrupt machine, it charged for her, 
its face lewd and grinning.
	But as it lunged for the door, she felt a coolness about her 
throat, and then something... someone blocked her view.  A sword of 
icy blue flickered in her vision, and a squeal of indignant pain 
echoed out in the corridors of her mind.  Then the body in her way 
was gone, running after the demon it... <em>she</em> had struck with 
the sword.  <em>She</em> was dressed in leathers of the same cold 
blue of the sword.  Aimee' looked out, wondering what she was staring 
at.  The sky was a light grey color, and before her spread a cold, 
flat, sheet of dark grey ice.  In the distance, two figures fought, 
the woman with the sword, and the green and hateful demon.
	The demon sprang for the woman, and the woman blocked the 
airborne monster with an easy swipe of the sword.  The demon thudded 
across the ice.  "Girl!" <em>she</em> shouted at Aimee'.  "You must 
kill Teltirray!  I will not be able to hold this creature 
forever!"
	"I don't know how!"
	"Yes, you do!  Now go!"  The woman gestured, and a blue bolt 
flew at Aimee', striking her body.
	She looked out into the world.  Her vision was blurred, and 
Teltirray was panting, holding the whip in one hand, but he was not 
hitting her anymore.  "Why don't you die?" he screamed at her.  "Die, 
you stupid bitch!  Die!"
	He looked at her, his eyes fixed at her.  "I'll make you hurt so 
much the demon will be sure to find your soul.  To the Dark with 
whips."  He reached forward, his hand on her belly, and began 
chanting.  Aimee' recognized the spell, <em>The Pain That Will 
Kill</em>  and accepted it into her body.  Her nerves began to burn.  
Teltirray had used this spell on her before, and she had learned, if 
not to enjoy it, to at least understand it.  And as the pain reached 
into her soul, she heard the clash of claws and steel within.  She 
grinned at Teltirray.
	"Die, damn you!"  Teltirray's eyes narrowed as the sweat poured 
from his balding head.  "Die!"
	Aimee' refused to die.  She refused to let him win.  As she 
accepted <em>The Pain That Will Kill</em>  she recognized the 
sensation.  She knew that spell.  She had seen it in a mirror once, 
as <em>The Pleasure That Sings</em>   She had seen it a long time 
ago.  In a book.  Darynn's book.  She knew how to use <em>The 
Pleasure That Sings.</em>  And in knowing, she saw the differences 
between the two spells.  With an almost casual, contemptuous thought, 
she turned <em>Pain</em> inside out and claimed it as her own.
	The look in Teltirray's face turned from hatred to shock as he 
felt his hand burn.  Flames erupted in his imagination.  Surely he 
had to be on fire!  He backed away from her, feeling <em>The Pain 
That Will Kill</em> for the first time directed at his own flesh.  He 
screamed as the pain  became instantly more than he could bear.
	Aimee' had no trouble maintaining the spell.  It didn't matter 
anymore if the power she needed to kill him killed her as well.  His 
demon was busy, his power expended, his concentration ruined.  She 
had him.  She stepped away from the wall and fell to the bed, 
crumpling to her knees.  In her soul, sword and claws clashed.  And 
she knew who wielded the sword.  It could only be.  Myr.
	"That necklace!" Teltirray shouted.  "Bethsany!  That bitch!  
I'll kill her when I'm finished with you!"  He leapt for, his hands 
upon her, grabbing for her throat.
	Aimee' panicked, and in her instinctual reaction her knee came 
up solidly between his legs.  Pain redoubled pain in Teltirray's 
belly, and he doubled over, grabbing at his crotch, his eyes closed 
with suffering.  "And, now, <em>Master</em> Teltirray, it's over."  
Seizing a heavy candlestick holder from the bedside, she smashed it 
down on his head.  He grunted in surprise, but seemed unable to 
summon any more than that to his defense.  She struck him again.  
Over and over until his skull staved in and his heart stopped 
beating.  Then, in her own blinding pain from the suffering he had 
inflicted with the whip, she collapsed, falling off the bed and onto 
the floor.
	She crawled, slowly, to her cloak, pulling it over her.  The 
magic had stopped, and with it her strength had fled.  She had only 
one thought now, one thing to sustain her.  Sobbing softly, she 
opened the door and limped down the stairs.  She escaped through the 
service door in the kitchen.
	The snow bit bitterly into her feet, making her wince as she 
walked, but she never slowed down.  The cold ate at her through the 
rough, thick wool.  It didn't matter.  Her tears grew stronger, yet 
in the dead of winter even the hardiest thief dared not go out, and 
she walked across the city, block after frozen block, unmolested and 
alone.  Finally, her pain reaching blinding proportions again, she 
found the door she sought.  She collapsed in front of it, moaning 
softly in pain as she scabbed her knee on the icy stone, and pounded 
on the heavy oaken door with the flesh of her palm.
	A rustle within, a questioning inquiry through the door, a 
familiar tickle of magic.  Then, the sudden rush of bolts being 
thrown and wards being broken.  The door threw open.  "Aimee'!"
	Darynn reached down and picked her up, carrying her inside.  The 
door closed behind him.  "You must be frozen!"
	She suddenly realized that he was holding her.  With a whimper, 
she threw her arms around him and held onto him for her life, 
realizing that she was safe, finally.  Tears broke out of her again, 
and his arms surrounded her while she cried her final cry, letting 
out the last year of pain and suffering, giving it to Darynn, and 
then to the past.  "He's dead," she gasped at one point.  "He's 
dead."
	"Are you sure?"
	Aimee' nodded.  "I... I crushed his skull."  A snarl crossed her 
pretty mouth as her eyes searched Darynn's face, looking for 
confirmation.  "I dropped him to the floor with <em>Pain</em> and 
then I took the candlestick and hit him again and again and again 
until his blood and his brains ran over the bedsheets!  He's dead, 
Darynn, he's dead!"  
	"Certainly sounds like it."  He gave her a gentle squeeze.  
"You're bloody all over, Aimee'."
	"Hurts," she agreed softly.  "I... I need to get clean.  And my 
boots.  I forgot to take the laces out of them.  I need to get 
back..."
	Darynn recognized that kind of logic as belonging to someone in 
a great deal of shock and confusion.  "No, Aimee', you don't.  You 
need to come with me."
	"But... Teltirray..."
	"Is dead, remember?"  He smiled gently, a smile that hid his 
fear within.  "Come.  Come with me."
	"If... you're sure it's safe?"
	"Very," Darynn replied.  "Come."
	She finally agreed and followed him.  He led her into the 
bedroom, then through to the bath.  "Sit," he said, indicating the 
large wooden tub.  She complied.  He drew warm water for her, and did 
his best to clean the wounds that crossed her belly, breasts, and 
thighs.  The dried blood softened with the water and slowly he 
exposed the beautiful girl who lay hidden underneath all that running 
redness.  With a few gentle spells he closed the worst of her wounds, 
the ones that still wept blood and serum.
	He found himself wondering what she would look like in the 
throes of passion, or even the pain of whips when the whips were 
lovingly administered.  It was the first time in decades he had 
considered a woman as a companion, and the first time ever that the 
idea actually appealed to him.  Yet, it wasn't Aimee's femininity 
that appealed to him so much as it was her raw, inner strength.  She 
had killed Teltirray, to hear her say it.  And within, he believed 
her.  He was as sure as she that Teltirray had come to earn what he 
deserved.  
	And, curiously, her shape appealed to him as well.  The effect 
was indescribable.  Something new, he realized, and he did not reject 
the thought.  It did not bother him that he found someone beautiful 
just because he was unfamiliar with her kind of beauty.  "Sir?" he 
heard her ask.
	Looking down, he realized that he had cupped her breast in his 
hand and was fondling her gently.  "My apologies, Aimee'.  I was... 
distracted."  Yet, he could not imagine what he would do with her.  
Actually, he knew full well.  He just could not imagine a balance to 
it, the kind of balance he found among men, where each could fulfill 
both roles, as taker and giver, with a woman, even though he knew 
full well that most people lived lives of such imbalance every day.  
"There will be an investigation, you know."
	She nodded, her eyes barely open.  "I know.  I wonder what will 
happen?"
	"I do not know."  He stroked her wet and glistening skin, so red 
and dark, and found himself wishing he could touch more of her.  What 
more did he want?
	Then, he remembered.  And he smiled.  He wanted her to undress 
in his presence and say that she wanted him.  To be as forward, as 
forceful, as gleefully hungry to bed him as any boy or man Darynn had 
ever had.  For that, he could wait.
	He helped her out of the tub and dried her off.  She stumbled a 
little as she walked, but she finally and successfully navigated her 
way to a bedroom he showed her, and finally he pulled the blankets 
over her and she was asleep.


			Aimee', Chapter 9


	"Master Darynn, please be brought forward."
	Darynn rose to his feet and allowed his colleagues to lead 
him into the moon-shaped circle that was the petition floor for the 
main council of Mages.  Around him sat his thirteen peers, each of 
whom had heard testimony from himself, Bethsany, and Aimee', as well 
as additional testimony from several of Bethsany's girls and two of 
Teltirray's servants.  Still, he had to admit, the council saw things 
differently from most people and he didn't know what their decision 
would ultimately be.
	From the center of the council, Talen Silisto leaned over and 
looked down at him.  "Master Darynn, the court has reviewed its 
findings and considered your testimony.  While it would normally be 
outrageous for a mage of your standing to defy the wishes of a fellow 
mage and teach that mage's student something other than what was 
requested, we find in your case that you taught Aimee' precisely 
according to the wishes of Teltirray as best as you, yourself, could 
interpret.  If Aimee' sought additional learning from you and your 
library, as long as her demanded studies did not suffer in the 
process, that is the mark of a good student, and you, sir, are to be 
rewarded as a good nurturer of that student."  Master Silisto smiled, 
and Darynn grinned back.  "This court finds you innocent of any 
wrongdoing.  Would you please be returned to your chair?"
	"I would, sir."
	"Aimee', please be brought forward."
	Aimee stood and, like Darynn before, allowed herself to be led 
to the center of the circle.  Darynn watched the hold of her head and 
found himself admiring the strength she was showing, as well as the 
nervousness locked into her shoulders.  She looked up at Mage 
Silisto, the hood of her cloak thrown back.
	Mage Silisto examined her carefully.  "Apprentice Aimee', the 
court has examined your conduct and your testimony, as well as that 
of your teachers and those who know you, and we can find no evidence 
of wrongdoing.  As a mage, Teltirray had few peers, and in his 
speciality he had none.  As a man, however, Teltirray was more 
monster than human being, and with your revelations and those 
contained in his journals, we hereby remove his name from our ranks 
as an honored member."
	"Also, this court has examined Teltirray's last moments in 
detail.  Without formality, this ruling will probably face challenge, 
but we  rule that you and Teltirray engaged in duel, one that he 
unfairly skewed in his favor, and that you are therefore to be 
benefitted in the manner of one who has won duel.  In the presence of 
a Will or Deed of Estate, you are entitled to half of Teltirray's 
estate holdings.  Without such a document, you are entitled to all."  
Aimee's mouth dropped open, and Darynn followed suit, stunned by the 
generosity of the ruling.  Talen Silisto slapped his palm on the wood 
of the table for silence, and when he got it, he turned to another 
standing there.  "Ricar, is there such a document?"
	"No such document will be found," Ricar stated evenly.
	"Is there such a document," Silisto repeated.  Darynn wondered 
at <em>why</em> Silisto needed to repeat it.
	Ricar stared at the mage, anger written across his mouth.  Then, 
slowly, he smiled.  "Master Silisto, I submit to you that no such 
Will or Deed can be found."
	Satisfied, Silisto turned back to Aimee'.  "You are now the 
holder of the title to Teltirray's estates.  This is the ruling of 
this mage's court."  Silisto slapped his hand upon the table.  
"Recorder, let it be known that Master Darynn has been cleared of all 
charges.  That Apprentice Aimee' has been, as well.  That the court 
rules in the duel of Aimee' and Teltirray, that Aimee' is the living 
victor.  And finally, that the Council of Mages grants Aimee' a white 
card admission to the College, to reside with Master Darynn-- " An 
uproar started in the audience.  Darynn looked stunned, but most of 
them were beginning to applaud!
	Silisto banged his hand on the table.  "ORDER!  I will have 
order in here!"  He took a deep breath.  "To reside with Master 
Darynn, who has been neglecting his duties as a mentor for far too 
long recently, until such time as she earned the title of Mage."

	The smell of her hair bothered him.  He wasn't sure why, or even 
in what way, it bothered him, but it did.  He tried not to listen to 
his feeling, but they would not go away merely from wishing.  "Sir?" 
she asked gently.
	"Aimee'?"
	"I wanted to ask you... you said once, just eight months ago, 
that you were prepared to love me."  She turned around, slipping her 
arms into his cloak and holding him close.  Surprised, he looked down 
at the top of her head, inhaling the soft smell of her hair again.  
"Would you... are you ready now?"
	"I..."  He stood, flustered, then finally smiled.  "I think so, 
Aimee'."   Much to even his surprise, he felt his erection growing 
under her influence.  As he reflected on her touch, he realized that 
Bethsany and her girls still held no interest at all for him.  
Instead, Aimee' challenged him, excited him, because of her talents, 
her magic.  And he wanted to indulge himself in her spirit and her 
body.
	He caressed her hair slowly, and her hands stroked his back, his 
fingertips arousing the skin and causing his muscles to tense up 
almost painfully.  "Come with me, Aimee'," he said.  She smiled and 
took his hand.  He led her to the bedroom.  "Sit."
	She sat.  He sat opposite her, his hands folded in his lap.  "I 
feel... uncomfortable.  I have no idea where to begin with you.  And, 
more honestly, I am frightened of you."
	"If you do not wish, sir..."
	"No, I have no desire to go back on my pledge.  Aimee', this may 
sound odd, but while I love you, and I feel lust for you, and at my 
age I should have the wisdom to understand what I feel in here, I do 
not."  He tapped himself on the chest to emphasize his words.  
"Men... Men are easy, compared to you."
	"You taught me, many months ago, not to be afraid of what I 
wanted or what someone else asked of me.  If I could do it, and I 
wanted, I should."  She smiled.  "I learned that lesson very well."  
She rose and removed her cloak, tossing it onto the chair by the bed.  
"This room has so much magic in it.  I can feel it when I breathe."
	"Yes," Darynn replied.  "I have had many men in this room, and 
cast many more spells."  He grinned.  "Shall we perform one, 
tonight?"
	She stopped, surprised.  "You would do that with me?"
	"It would seem the natural course of action.  You are an 
apprentice.  I am the mage.  I am supposed to teach you things.  Why 
don't I show you, by example, a kind of scrying I'm familiar 
with?"
	"Please, sir!" she smiled.  Darynn reached out and pulled her 
close, pushing up the cuff on her left sleeve, exposing her wrist.  
He knew she was watching as he lowered his head and kissed her wrist, 
gently.  The taste of her skin was unlike anything he had ever 
tasted.  It was salty, like the skin of men, but it was a different 
quality from any salt or sweat he had known with men.  He could not 
even begin to place the differences.
	She stood, silently, while he reached out and untied the bows 
that held her tunic closed in the front.  He admired the smooth 
flawlessness of her body as he exposed it, inch by inch.  Her 
breasts, still growing, were already large mounds projecting away 
from her body, each nipple pointing away from the other.  He quietly 
cursed himself.  For a sex mage, he had damned little vocabulary to 
describe the beauty of a woman's body.  And he did find her 
beautiful.  Her beauty was bound in the way she breathed, in the way 
her chest rose and fell with the excitement that was building between 
them as student and teacher, friend and lover, and he hated to 
admit... man to woman.  The raw flux of power between two loving men 
was one thing he appreciated.  Yet the strange flux of power, 
filtered by the differences in the sexes, made for a kind of magic he 
had never known.
	As he pushed her shirt down off her back and she shook her hair 
to free it from where it had become caught in the shirtcollar, he 
ceased cursing himself and smiled.  He took her cheeks in his hands, 
lifted her mouth slightly, and kissed her.  And then he laughed.
	"Sir?"
	"Oh, Aimee', what I have been thinking in the past few minutes 
is just not fit.  Are you ready to share the weaknesses of an old 
man?"
	"If they are yours, sir, I will always be ready."
	"Very well."  He rose and slowly led her to the bedside, 
encouraging her to get in.  She lay down on the covers and, together, 
they worked off her breeches.  "Aimee', I have been considering what 
a fool I have been for denying myself the special kind of magic that 
happens not between two men, but between a man and a woman.  And then 
I realized how few people ever learn of the love between man and 
woman, even when they are made to learn that."  He shook his head. 
"You are the first woman I have loved since my mother, and you may be 
the last.  It is not... It is not that I have discovered women, 
Aimee'.  It is just that I have discovered you."
	She smiled and reached up, pulling him down beside her.  "Sir, 
one thing I have not yet had the pleasure of is one of my own kind.  
But I dearly wish it.  I wish to learn."
	"I am afraid I shall have to send you to a specialist for that," 
he mused, laughing.  "That sort of thing is beyond my 
understanding."
	"Yes, sir," she replied, grinning.  "Remove your clothing, 
already!"
	"I have to prepare for the spell, first.  Wait here."  Darynn 
rose and left the room.  He walked down the corridor to his magickal 
pantry, recovered the items he required, and returned.  Aimee' was 
idly stroking her skin, scratching or self-pleasuring, he couldn't 
tell, and she smiled as he walked in.  "I waited."
	"I see," he replied.  "Come, apprentice.  Help me arrange this 
spell.  I will need this powder dripped into the groove on the floor 
that encircles the bed, and I will need these candles inset into the 
holders at points 1, 21, 41, 61, and 81.  Clear?"
	"Yes, sir.  Is there any need to care for the colors?"
	"Good question, apprentice.  No, not this time."
	"Yes, sir."  He watched, somewhat detached at the beauty of her 
body but thrilled with the eagerness in her soul, as she placed the 
candles down and began the slow and rather dull task of encircling 
the bed with the mix he had given her.  He stripped off the plain 
blanket and put in its place a large, blue comforter onto which were 
sewn magical runes and sigils.  "Aimee'?"
	"Almost done, sir," she said.
	"Join me when you are."
	He knelt on the bed, naked, as she joined him.  "Now, cross your 
legs, close your eyes, and hold out your hands."
	She did as she was told.  He looked at her, naked, vulnerable... 
and yet, he knew that if he were to arouse her anger, she would prove 
a challenge, possibly a mortal one.  Unlike Teltirray, even if he did 
not see all of it, he knew the source of her power and he respected 
it.  He reached over, doused the oil lamp, and settled himself before 
her, taking her hands in his.  He closed his eyes.
	Slowly, he began chanting, swaying back and forth, feeling the 
power that was already heavily invested into this room even when no 
magick was being performed.  His soul reached out, examined 
everything.  His hands moved up her arms, and she mirrored his 
movements, until his forehead touched hers.  Their hands roamed, and 
slowly he felt her open herself to him.  For the first time, he 
sensed her hidden heart, which she had kept protected from Teltirray 
for all these past months.  Her mouth began to move, although no 
sounds came out.  He could hear her breath shaped into words and knew 
that those words were echoes of his own.  She was losing herself to 
the spell, and that was as it should be.
	His hand caressed her breasts, and hers stroked the hardened 
muscles of his chest.  Beneath her soft teats he could feel the 
strength she had earned through Teltirray's unfortunate 
"ministrations."  He worried that he was being inept, or too rough, 
to the delicate flesh of her body, but she never said a word other 
than the whispered spell of scrying they worked together.
	His mouth touched her shoulder as they leaned together, and her 
voice suddenly took form.  She took over the speaking of the spell, 
as his mouth explored her soft skin.  Once more he was fascinated 
with a taste, a texture, a sensation utterly unlike that of any man 
or boy he had ever enjoyed.  He pressed her down to the bed, feeling 
her body underneath his own.  His skin came to life with every inch 
pressed to inch, and the mana flowed about them in torrents Darynn 
had shared so few times in his life.  His mouth found her nipples.  
They were not so unlike men's, perhaps a little larger than most men 
he had been with, but not the largest.  He learned to appreciate the 
feel of her breasts, the wonder and excitement inherent in them.  He 
was fascinated, yet the spell called him on.  There was more to do.  
He kissed her belly.  In his mind, the spell wove on and on, and in 
his ears Aimee' chanted flawlessly words she had not known an hour 
before.  His mouth trailed down to her sex.
	The scent was... distracting.  Interesting.  Nothing to write 
Thomas about.  He lowered his lips to her furred mound, slowly 
extending his tongue, tentatively tasting her flesh.  The words to 
the spell came a little more breathlessly from her throat.  He pulled 
his head back slightly and looked down, taking in the sight, 
comparing the pink flesh the color inside a seashell before him with 
what he knew in his head.  He licked where he thought her clit should 
be, tasting at it.  Her legs spread slowly wider, and a small moan 
ran in the undercurrent of her chant.  He looked up and her face 
showed how lost she was in the magic and the pleasure of power.
	He licked at her harder.  His jaw was experienced enough with 
the taste of men, but she was proving difficult to follow.  He 
grinned to himself... his problem was that the target was so 
small!
	He was apparently doing enough, for her chanting changed in 
pitch and timbre as she approached her orgasm.  He decided to let the 
spell rise with her.  They didn't have to be joined at the hips to 
make this work; he had succeeded many times while sucking seed.
	He allowed her to continue weaving the spell; he fed it to her 
mind even as his mouth fed on the taste and feel of her cunt.  He 
licked with enthusiasm, appreciating the way she responded so fully.  
It was different from men (he couldn't stop making the comparison), 
but he had no trouble recognizing it.  He pressed his mouth against 
her cunt, licking her harder.  He lay against the bedspread and felt 
his erection pressing against the rough cloth.  Her orgasm was 
growing; he could feel it in her legs and see it in her heart.  She 
growled underneath the chanted her spell, and he could hear the 
thickness in her voice that heralded the loss of control.  Her voice 
grew louder as the muscles in her legs trembled and shook.  He 
changed to course of spell from its rotating-growing phase to the 
outward-seeking phase, and she screamed as she came, the magickal 
words shouted from her mouth as a cruder lover would shout 
obscenities.
	His vision blinked momentarily, and when he looked again the sky 
had opened up above his head and the world turned below him.  Only 
one moon was in sight, but it was clearer and more radiant than he 
had seen it in many a year.  He turned around slowly, and Aimee' 
floated besides him.  Her eyes were closed and her chest was heaving, 
one hand over her breasts as if to feel the air entering and 
escaping.  "Aimee'," he said.  "Apprentice."
	"Sir?" she asked, blinking slowly and opening her eyes.
	"Look at what we have wrought."  He reached out for her hand, 
and she took it.  Drawing her close, he turned her so that she looked 
down upon the world.  "We have left our bodies, so important to our 
pleasures, behind, so that we may see this."
	"Is that... that..."
	"That is Earth," Darynn said slowly.  "We are many miles from 
it's surface."
	"It's round!"
	"Indeed," Darynn said.  "And there are other secrets to be 
learned from this height.  But out bodies will not long stand the 
strain of suspension like this.  It is, perhaps, the strongest 
disadvantage of sex magic... the tension of ecstasy, if left too 
long, will harm us.  And the pleasures of love make us inappropriate 
for combat magic."  He smiled at her.  "Come, we must return."
	"It is so beautiful," she sighed.
	"It is," he agreed, giving it one last glance.  He spoke one 
more word.
	Aimee' screamed louder, her climax sweeping past her as 
attentions returned to her body.  Darynn held onto her with his 
strong hands, hoping she wouldn't buck too hard and hurt his mouth or 
nose.  Finally, her trembling subsided.  "Oh, Master Darynn."
	"Apprentice Aimee'... you were most beautiful."
	"Thank you," she gasped, lying down on the bed and breathing 
hard, recovering her breath.  "That was... the most beautiful moment 
of my life."
	He crawled up and lay beside her, chuckling.  "It was probably 
one of the most interesting of mine," he admitted.  "I did not 
anticipate your pleasure being so strong."
	"You enjoyed it, then?"
	"Oh, very much," he agreed.
	She turned over onto her stomach.  Darynn's eyes floated over 
her buttocks, so much fuller and rounder than any boy's he had ever 
seen.  "Good," she said, pulling herself over his body and lowering 
her head to his cock.  Darynn trembled slightly as his cock slid into 
her mouth.  He could feel her saliva against his cock, slick and warm 
when it was under her tongue, cool as it slid down his shaft.  He 
heard his own breath and found he was hyperventilating.  She was 
good, and he appreciated her talent.
	She could take all of it, too, and he looked down to see her 
nose pressing against his belly, his entire cock engulfed in her 
mouth.  She sucked on his cock so well he felt his own climax 
reaching for him.  "Aimee'... I'm going to come soon."
	She ignored his warning, sucking harder, applying just the right 
kinds of pressure to his shaft.  His cock pumped a little, releasing 
a droplet, his body wound tighter than a watchman's clock.  A second 
later, it broke though, making him shake and groan as his cock pumped 
her mouth full of his come.  Yet, she didn't stop!  She kept sucking 
it down, stroking every last drop from his shaft until he became so 
sensitive.  "Aimee', I beg of you... enough!"
	She rose up and looked at him.  Her eyes were glazed over, tears 
streaking her cheeks.  He recognized the signs of fighting a gag 
reflex, and smiled, brushing away one of the small streams of wetness 
with his thumb.
	She held his hand to her cheek.  "Thank you again, sir.  Thank 
you so much."
	He smiled and pulled her close, until she lay atop him.  "It is 
I who should be thanking you," he sighed.  "That was wonderful."
	"Thank you.  I tried my best."
	"And you did better than many men I've been with.  Which 
confirms a theory of mine."
	"Sir?" she asked.
	"I've always thought it was passion and practice which make a 
good lover, not having a similar body.  There's a belief amongst 
inverts that only we know how to pleasure one another.  You give lie 
to that belief."
	She nodded, then laughed softly.  "Darynn... When Teltirray was 
trying to kill me, one thought that kept going through my mind was 
that if I didn't kill him, I was going to miss class tomorrow."
	His laughter joined hers.  "Oh, Apprentice, I do love thee."
	"I love you too..."  She looked up into his face.  
"...Teacher."
	They lay together for a long time, and soon Aimee' had drifted 
off to sleep, turning over onto her side.  Darynn rose and blew out 
the five candles; most had burned down until they were just wicks 
lying in puddles of wax.  He did one last circuit of his home, 
insuring that everything was locked down tight against the cold, 
winter night, then returned to bed, one small lantern his only source 
of light.  As he looked down at Aimee's sleeping form, he wondered at 
her resiliency, and at his own emotions.
	Despite all that had happened, <em>lust</em> was still not in 
his vocabulary, at least not for her.  He would never have sought her 
out, and he still had no desire to seek other women at all.  Instead, 
he that felt he admired her and sought to protect her.  She was so 
strong, yet so young and vulnerable.  One day she would be a great 
mage, and perhaps that was his eventual legacy.  It would be the 
ultimate irony if his greatest student turned out to be a woman, yet 
Aimee' had all the natural talent to be the greatest of mages.
	He lowered the lampwick and curled up next to her.  After dark, 
he thought, not all cats are grey, but sometimes it doesn't matter 
what color they are.  
	

Aimee'	

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