Mage and Consort

Magical sex, romance, and a world in peril!

I’ll upload the remaining sections over the next week or so.

Thank you for reading, and your comments are always welcome.

 

#

Complex carvings adorned the heavy door, but they’d faded over the centuries. It was an old keep, and this was not a prestigious corner. That suited Leo Oakborn all right, but his stomach churned with the familiar dread anticipation.

He traced the patterns one last time, swallowed, and reached for the iron knocker.

“Come,” said the bored voice, as usual before he knocked. Leo swallowed, adjusted his underclothes, and hauled open the troublesome door, trying not to let it smack on the stop. Lady Carwen hated that. She hated a lot of things.

A great drooping canopy bed filled much of the room, and Lady Carwen lounged in her ordinary spot. Leo suppressed a sneeze as he entered, closed and latched the door, and bowed carefully. Lady Carwen didn’t acknowledge the bow, but she didn’t correct him either. It’d been months since she’d given him complaint about that, so either he’d finally learned or she’d given up instructing as his lessons came to an end.

The last lesson, he told himself. Whatever came next couldn’t be worse than this. It just couldn’t.

Leo knew better, though. Lady Carwen might be cruel, but didn’t she didn’t take particular pleasure in it. She hardly seemed to care about teaching enough for that. She was a bitter old hag, but he’d heard stories from some of the other boys that made his skin crawl. Then again, he’d heard other stories that left him achingly jealous.

The Lady looked up sourly from her meditation-card. A flick of the wrist, and a faint breeze blew out most of the candles. She still had some talent, though she was far past her prime.

“So,” she said, leaving the word hanging. Leo knew better than to speak. Eventually she rolled over, pulling her shift over her head, exposing heavy breasts and the fat nipples that had so fascinated Leo when he’d first seen them. Maybe she was getting old and kind of stretched out, but Lady Carwen wasn’t really ugly, not to look at anyway. Not until you spent a few minutes with her.

“At least you’re properly erect this time,” she said. “Come here and see if you can apply the lessons I’ve wasted so much time on. Skies above, I hope my next student is less useless. They think they can shove me aside, deny me potent Seed, give me the bottom of the barrel of the trainees, but I could still show them. If I just had the proper Seed, I could show them.”

Leo walked forward, feeling dizzy. Suspended smoke and dust made his eyes water, and the horrible bitter taste of the herbs wouldn’t leave his mouth. His cock was hard, true enough, though he didn’t know how long it’d last. The herbs never worked so well on him as they were supposed to. And they made him so nauseous.

“My Lady’s desire?” he asked, trying not to cough.

She rubbed her eyes. “I believe this can be a short session, don’t you? I’ve taken pity on us both and prepared myself. No need to paw me with your clumsy hands and mouth. Just dribble out what you’ve got and Skies have pity on the woman who gets you.”

Stung, Leo nodded. This really was his last lesson, and that was her judgment. Inadequate. He felt the shame boil over him, the feeling competing with the herbs, dampening his body’s urges. He pulled his breeches down rapidly, but the Lady had already sensed it.

“Skies, boy, this is a sad performance even for you. Well, go on, then, do whatever it takes.”

Blinking tears, he gripped his cock, the motion feeling awkward as always. For two years, this room had been the only place he’d been allowed to touch himself. Ever since he’d reached eighteen and his adult lessons began.

Leo stroked, trying to imagine a kind mistress, like Lady Charlotte. She’d taught mathematics, been patient the way other instructors weren’t. And she was pretty. He was sure it would be easier with her. Leo had done everything right, never broken the rules, and this musty room with Lady Carwen was all he’d gotten.

As she’d implied, the Lady was sticky with her own juices. Smell memories filled his nose, the hours spent servicing her enough to couple without causing extra discomfort. That duty had tailed off the past year, and of late she rarely bothered, often simply using oils on whichever hole she picked.

Still, something about it reminded him of the first days, when he’d been young and stupid and imagined that a lustful, potent woman was hiding behind the Lady’s stern face. His manhood hardened as he fantasized what it would’ve been like with Lady Charlotte instead. And then he sensed the tightening in his groin, and a great relief loosened the rest of his body.

“My Lady,” he said in his most courteous tone, and climbed on the bed. She rolled slightly, looking vaguely bored.

This would be a good climax, though. He slipped inside her stickiness, hearing her grunt and feeling her shift to accommodate him. Maybe he’d surprised her, stiff as he was. Her curly hairs tickled him, and secretly he’d always liked that sensation despite everything. He’d show her his Seed was valuable after all, and she’d tell the other mistresses that he could eventually be a solid Consort for one of the minor Ladies. That would suit him just fine. And maybe one day, he might be lent to Lady Charlotte. She wasn’t at all powerful, but she would touch him gently, and he would give her all the potency he could.

Leo stifled a groan, and felt the liquid fire emerge from his balls. It was the single thing that made his orphan’s life valuable: the potential in his Seed, sniffed out by a hedge witch years ago.

The moment came and went, and the fire faded. He dribbled out his weak orgasm in the Lady’s sticky folds, and finally pulled away.

Lady Carwen might disdain his Seed, but she wasn’t foolish. She quickly brought the cloth between her legs, tipping her hips back onto a pillow, sighing as she greedily absorbed what power she could.

She opened her eyes, and for a moment he imagined them glowing with power. Kit claimed that had happened with Lady Biswan, right before she levitated off the bed, but you couldn’t really believe that kind of High-Mage stuff. Lady Biswan would have more than one full Consort if she were that powerful.

The thing with her eyes was a trick of the light. Lady Carwen gestured, and a slightly stronger breeze fluttered the drapes around the bed. She curled her lip into a sneer.

“Out, then,” she said. “Your apprenticeship is done. Congratulations, Journeyman-Consort.”

Leo stuffed himself back in his breeches, ignoring the unpleasantly cooling stickiness. He bowed precisely one last time. Nothing to give offense. Then he turned and courteously fled the chamber.

#

The lecture hall filled with titters and for once the teachers didn’t shush them. This was Matching Day, and everyone knew what that meant.

Everyone except Anya Tur. A year was not enough time to understand the strange social currents here, this rarefied life so removed from home. She missed Mother Zephyr, and she missed Alishe and the other girls, at least some of them. She even missed the dirt and the potatoes. Though not too much, she reflected. They were a delicacy here, served in little porcelain platters, and no one else seemed to understand the humor.

All she really knew was that she would get a Journeyman. A young man who would be a kind of servant, of an intensely personal fashion. The whole idea filled her with no little dread. When they’d brought her here, insisting her talent couldn’t be wasted, she hadn’t understood what that meant. But as she’d struggled to fill her mind with all the education she’d missed, Anya had often enough seen the young men from a distance, herded by stern women and a few older men.

She had talent, though much less than her sponsors had hoped. But for true power, you needed the Seed.

She sighed, looking sidelong at Lady Jeharia. Her sponsor was aging rapidly, looking five years older than she had when she’d imperiously taken possession of Anya. Behind her and quiet as always, her gray-haired husband. Their family’s fortune was fading, and Anya knew they’d lost their gamble on her strength. Sure, she had some talent. But she hadn’t mastered any of the disciplines, and it was obvious she wasn’t Mage material. At best maybe she’d eke out a life of reasonable comfort on the estate, predicting weather and teaching the children. It sounded like a paradise for Anya, no matter the disappointment of the Lady and her husband.

Still, she’d heard stories of what a Consort with truly powerful Seed could do. High Mages and their Consorts could wield immense powers, holding back the elements by sheer will. A great Consort might even turn a mediocre practitioner like her into a competent Assistant Mage, at least for brief spurts.

Her face colored at the metaphor. The other women had grown up in this world. But at the farming Conclave, she’d only heard the vaguest descriptions about ordinary coupling and childbearing, and nothing about this bizarre world of royal magic a continent away.

Anyway, she wasn’t getting a powerful Consort. None of the young women here were ready for that, even though a few of them showed great promise. Those would be the ones with first choice.

Anya was last. In truth there was some doubt whether she’d even get Matched. Until a contract was finalized, more powerful Mages had the right of preemption, though it was only sporadically exercised for a Journeyman.

The audience hushed and a group of men and women entered from the front left. A line of young men followed them, and Anya had to admire their grace. Compared to their teachers, these men walked like dancers, every step just so. They were all different, some hailing from regions even further than Anya. Faces solid or angular, figures slight or muscled, but all of them looking physically fit, with elegant sober tunics and cleanly shaven cheeks.

The air resounded with Lady Montak’s stentorian voice, and Anya ignored the meandering monologue along with the rest of them. Instead she scrutinized the men’s faces, trying to understand them. Since arriving Anya had been cloistered with the other women, given precious little interaction at all with men. But unlike the others, she had no childhood experience of males either. She told herself these were just humans, a different sex. But to her their expressionless faces might as well belong to carved statues.

Lady Montak finished, and the tittering rose again.

“I can’t wait,” hissed Prala. “Do you see the one on the left?”

“The red-haired one?”

“No, the one next to him. Look, you can even see it through his tunic.”

“That’s not all there is to it. Just because it looks impressive –”

“Quiet,” someone said sharply. It was time.

The men nodded together, and as one they pulled their tunics over their heads. They wore nothing beneath, and Anya saw her first penis. Or rather, twenty-eight of them. She suppressed a squeak, and took comfort that others weren’t as successful maintaining their composure.

“Skies aflame,” blurted Prala.

Anya swallowed, telling herself this was something she must get used to. They all had more muscles than she’d realized. Some had thick hair on their chests, some of them looked like they could pick up and carry two Anyas without trouble. And their manhoods. Some curved, some jutting straight up, all bouncing a little in a manner that shocked and mesmerized her. Any of them was supposed to fit inside a woman. Anya’s face reddened further, trying not to compare them to her slim middle finger.

Then Essia stood up in all her haughtiness, and behind her rose the kingdom’s Third Mage. There was never any doubt who’d have first choice. Essia had been trained from birth, and even if others might rival her talent, there was no questioning her supremacy when it came to choosing her parents.

All the sponsors knew everything there was to know about the Journeymen. But by tradition, the Matching was kept a mystery to the only ones for whom it really mattered.

No, Anya realized. Surely it mattered to these unknowable creatures as well, with their blank faces and their heavy sacks filled with Seed, all of it ready to empty through their terrifyingly large cocks.

She wondered what they’d been told about her and the other young women.

The Third Mage spoke a name, and one of the men came forward. Not the strongest-looking. Not the biggest — but then, the important parts were heavy enough, hanging below his shaft in the thatch of dense hair. And surely it was the quality that mattered, not the — size.

Essia walked forward to meet him, trailed by the Mage. She barely seemed to look at the Journeyman, and instead reached out to grasp him by the manhood.

There were a few shocked gasps, and Anya could tell the Mage disapproved, but she didn’t stop Essia from leading the Journeyman off that way. And he never even changed expression.

Melina stood up with her own Royal sponsors, but another voice rang out from the back.

“Kit,” said the woman as she walked forward.

Melina looked ready to spit, but this was another Mage, though nowhere near as highly ranked as the Third. Not high enough to confront the Third, but for some reason eager to claim a Journeyman. Or maybe even this specific Journeyman. Anya didn’t know enough about Matching to be sure.

Suddenly her heart raced. She re-counted, but she’d been right. There had been exactly one extra Journeyman, so any other interruptions would leave her with no Match at all. The thought wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. Though on her left, Lady Jeharia was quietly wringing her hands. It would be disastrous for her to be left with a weak Consortless talent, for at least another year.

One after another they made their choices, and Anya felt a strange lightness. None of this had never been up to her, but now it was even out of Lady Jeharia’s hands.

None of the others repeated Essia’s rude performance, each instead allowing her Journeyman to perform an intricate bow and then put his tunic back on.

There were no more interruptions, and finally Anya stood up with Lady Jeharia. She stared dazedly at the lone remaining candidate, a thin but strong-looking man little older than her, with straw-colored hair and down lower a thatch of darker hair… she looked back up, and for the first time she thought she saw something. He looked nervous. Maybe it was because his manhood was smaller than the others, with an odd sideways tilt — but wait, no, she didn’t remember noticing all that before.

There were titters from the remaining audience members, and Anya wasn’t sure what the joke was, except the usual one at her expense. The ignorant country girl.

“Leo,” said Lady Jeharia with some resignation. Anya padded nervously in the Lady’s steps, but it was to Anya that Leo delivered his perfect, careful bow. She nodded, and gestured for him to dress, which he did quickly and gracefully.

“I trust that shameful display won’t be repeated,” said Lady Jeharia as they left.

Shocked and baffled, Anya glanced at the Lady, but Leo was already shaking his head solemnly.

“I misjudged the quantity of herb,” he said carefully. “It will not happen again.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Anya said nervously.

Lady Jeharia shook her head at Anya. “You are still in my service,” she said. “And while it is not my place to discipline a Consort, life will be difficult for you if he does not substantially strengthen what modest talent I am told you do possess.”

Anya swallowed, nodding. Whatever fantasies she might have of living out her quiet, low-expectations life, there was always the danger of being released entirely. Sold, effectively, to the royal family, and a life of true drudgery. A bad investment written off.

#

Heart pounding, Leo followed the young woman through unfamiliar corridors towards what he assumed would be her chambers. He didn’t know what to think about her. She was so young, but of course he should have expected that. She seemed somewhat stupid and meek, and he knew she would be low status. That didn’t really matter to him, but the interaction with her sponsor had him terrified. If she was dismissed, what would happen to Leo? Would he be kicked out completely, to an outside life that he’d heard horror stories about? Traded around by the dirty hedge witches, or living life on the run?

The young Lady paused at a door, and pulled out a key. The chamber inside was smaller than he’d expected, smaller even than Lady Carwen’s. But it was neater, and it smelled better. The bed was far larger than Leo’s cot, but nothing like the draped monster in Lady Carwen’s room. He nervously noted the single window high on the wall: a western exposure, vulnerable to stones. But that was an old worry, and nothing this Lady need concern herself over.

The woman walked to a small desk and retrieved a chair for herself, sitting heavily. Leo waited to see what her preference was. Would she want him to undress her, or use his mouth? Lady Carwen had told him to listen carefully, and never act without a signal, but not to be too cautious either. He’d never gotten the balance right, and Lady Carwen eventually had just told him precisely what she wanted.

There was one thing that couldn’t wait, much as he dreaded it.

“My Lady, may I refresh my herbs so I can better attend to you?”

She blinked at him, her close-set gray-blue eyes betraying confusion. Almost fear. Hesitantly she nodded.

Leo had been prepared for this. Lady Carwen said that some younger ladies might not have had intercourse even with an ordinary man, and might need instruction.

Turning aside, feeling ashamed the whole time, he extracted another medium dose from his pocket. As soon as he chewed and swallowed, he felt the dizziness. It was too soon, too much, but he needed to make this work. He was nothing if it didn’t. All this time, he’d told himself it was just Lady Carwen, that a different woman, the right woman…

Sweating, feeling jittery, he turned back, ignoring the bitter taste. At least for the moment, his manhood responded with alacrity. He couldn’t be sure how long it would last.

“I apologize for my ignorance,” she finally said. “What exactly is this herb? Are you unwell?”

He tried to keep shock off of his face, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. How could she not know?

“My Lady,” he said stiffly. “It is an aid. The body’s own cycles do not always — may not always match my Lady’s need. The herb ensures all is smooth regardless. It is an ordinary thing for a Consort, part of our training.”

“Cycles,” she said slowly. “Like the herbs I take, for my — woman’s cycle? But I did not understand — forgive me, I did not know men had such a thing.”

Leo felt frozen, out of sorts. Was she talking of fertility cycles? He knew that women with talent intentionally suppressed them.

“Lady,” he said, swallowing. “I refer to my body’s immediate arousal, and my ability to provide you with my Seed.”

To his shock, the woman turned bright red.

“Oh,” she said finally. “Oh, of course. I am a fool. Why should a man be so different from a woman, after all?”

Finally Leo began to understand. She was truly inexperienced, and terribly nervous, and worried that her body was not ready for intercourse. But he had been trained for this as well.

“I can help, in whatever way my Lady desires,” he said carefully. “I am well-trained with my mouth and my hands. Or perhaps my Lady would prefer to try her mouth, this first time. I understand it is ordinary not to know beforehand the most effective disposition of Seed.”

She stared at Leo as though he were speaking a foreign language, and maybe he was, but it was all he knew. And he felt a rising desperation, because the longer this took, the less chance he would perform properly.

“Please, if I may, Lady,” he said, stepping closer. Her eyes widened and he immediately halted.

“You’ve been trained,” she said slowly, eyes dropping to the floor. “Of course, they would do that. You know how this works.” She gestured vaguely.

“Yes, of course,” Leo said, trying to sound soothing, but he didn’t think he’d succeeded. Lady Carwen hadn’t prepared him, not for this. Already the dizziness and nausea were overwhelming his arousal. He tried to think of Lady Charlotte, but his vision was going spotty.

“I suppose you’d better do what your training says,” the Lady said from somewhere in the distance. “I’ll just get on the bed, and you do what’s necessary. But, be careful. I know it hurts, and — I’ll have to be able to do this a lot, won’t I? You can do it carefully, I suppose?”

“Of course, Lady,” he heard himself say. And then somehow the floor tilted and slammed into his shoulder.

#

Anya put one leg on the bed, trying to nerve herself for what was coming. It would be fine. He had training. Thank the Skies that one of them did.

There was a gasp, and a loud crash. When Anya turned, she saw that Leo had fallen heavily.

She gaped, and then moved hesitantly to crouch at his side.

“Leo? Are you all right?”

He groaned, shifting slightly, and Anya tried to help him roll. It looked like he’d hurt his shoulder. He was so solid, and his skin felt feverish under her hand. Distantly she realized she’d never touched a man this way.

“Ow,” he said distinctly, and that ordinary reaction soothed Anya more than all his stilted courtesy. He wasn’t a statue. He was a strange young man who’d collapsed for no apparent reason, and Anya had no idea what to do. But she knew instinctively that she couldn’t call for help. Whatever else, she was bound to this man for the immediate future. Any weakness of his — that would weigh against her as well. It might tip the Jeharias into giving up on her.

“Do you need water? Food, a pillow?” Anya surveyed the room, trying to think of what might help. She had no particular knowledge of medicine.

With great effort, Leo hauled himself up to sit leaning against the bed.

“Water, my Lady,” he rasped. “If it is not too much trouble.”

She retrieved the pitcher and filled her own cup, handing it carefully to him. Leo’s hands shook as he drank, and he had to pause to catch his breath. He wouldn’t even look at Anya.

“I have made a serious error,” Leo said finally. “My Lady, deepest apologies. I will be of little use for a while. But I will do whatever I can to regain my strength, so that I –”

“No,” Anya blurted. “No, don’t do that. You should rest. I asked too much, in my ignorance.”

“Not at all, Lady,” Leo said, looking pained. “It was my failing alone. This is what I am trained for. I will rest, but I would call on you at your earliest convenience. My Seed is yours as you desire.”

Muscles straining, he used his good arm on her bed frame to haul himself to his feet. It was a little intimidating to see his strength, and Anya stepped back instinctively.

“My name is Anya,” she blurted. “Anya Tur. I think — you should come back tomorrow. I have class this evening.”

“As you wish, Lady Tur,” Leo said. “But I may be recovered sooner. Shall I call on you tonight, afterwards?”

She frowned, then shook her head. “At eight hours tomorrow morning,” she said. “They moved the morning class later, so we could…”

He nodded gravely, rubbed his shoulder absently, then turned to her, executing a perfect bow despite everything.

“Leo,” she said nervously. “I think it best we don’t mention this episode.”

“Thank you, Lady.” he said. She was shocked to realize he was trembling. “Thank you. Until then, my Lady.”

“Anya,” she said, but he just bowed again, walking carefully but steadily to her door.

She stared at the door after he left. She should feel disappointment, and there was that. But mostly it was relief, and dread.

#

Behind Anya there was a whooping shriek, and the sudden *fwoomp* of flame. Heat blasted her, and she turned reluctantly. Essia was dancing around her bonfire like a mad queen.

“Bitch,” mumbled Melina from the side. Anya watched carefully, because for all her attitude, Melina was good. A real fire Mage in the making, Teacher Killian had said as much.

Melina closed her eyes, moving her dark hands just so, gathering her energies, which would only be enhanced by the Seed she’d just taken. She looked less ebullient than Essia, but Anya stepped back nonetheless. The moment came, Melina gestured, and the fire roared to life.

“Hah!” Essia yelled. “I finally beat you, Melina! Did you even get more than a dribble?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Melina spat. “You got lucky.”

But as the rest of the class took on their piles of wood, Anya had to agree with Essia. A half dozen of the other students were approaching Melina’s previously unmatched results, and their giddiness spread, with the fires building higher and higher. Anya furiously worked on hers, and was relieved that no one seemed surprised when she only managed to bring a few twigs to a smolder. Finally Melina stalked over and put an end to it by lazily torching Anya’s wood, the sudden heat sending Anya falling back on her rear.

To her dismay, Prala tagged along with Anya when class finished. Stupid, annoying, and barely more talented than Anya, but tonight she practically glowed.

“I never knew it would be like this,” Prala said, sighing. “I thought it would hurt, but he was so gentle, even though he was bigger than Jakob, but I never really liked Jakob anyway. And the Seed! Oh, Anya, isn’t it magnificent? The way the power flows into you, like an electric shock. Like, well, you know. I think I had one of those too, at the same time.”

“Yeah,” said Anya. “It’s something else, isn’t it.”

Prala smiled knowingly, and Anya tried to match it. Prala was too brainless to tell she was faking.

But even brainless Prala was in a different league from Anya now.

#

Leo stared up in the dark, trying to sleep. The day played and replayed: his humiliation at the ceremony, then the even greater humiliation in private. He knew full well he’d overdosed on the herb, but he’d been desperate, so desperate. Taking a double dose beforehand, to look impressive, and hoping it lasted through. Then that last dose, such a fool.

Lady Tur had been surprisingly kind about it, in her nervous way. Maybe she was too young to have developed the sternness he’d expected. He had better learn how to please her quickly, so that she had no cause to complain. Most importantly, he had to perform his duty. She wouldn’t expect miracles from him, but he had to provide her what Seed he had.

Clearly he would need to be the teacher with this woman. It was an odd reversal from Lady Carwen, but he could hardly imagine being a worse teacher than the old Lady. What truly terrified him were the potential gaps in his education owing to Lady Carwen’s negligence. Perhaps there were other techniques known to the teachers, ways to handle the problem he couldn’t ignore anymore. Secrets other men might even know.

There was only one person he could imagine asking, without risking humiliation and possibly serious consequences. Sure, Kit might have laughed, or told him he was an idiot, or failed to give a useful answer. But his roommate was all right, and thoughtful enough not to gossip about important stuff. A good roommate, if not quite a friend.

He turned to the empty bed, lit faintly by moonlight spilling through the high-up window. At the Matching, Kit had been taken second, higher than Leo would ever have guessed. Claimed by a true Mage, so maybe Kit wasn’t all bluster. And now he was gone, to a different life. Perhaps he’d be a second or third Consort to the Mage that had taken him, or perhaps it was more complicated, some kind of political power game. All that was beyond Leo’s understanding.

And that left no one to figure out his problem, except Leo himself. He sighed, trying the breathing exercises to relax, along with the particular concentration that was supposed to increase circulation without relying on the herb. But he fell asleep limp and frustrated.

#

“My Lady,” Leo said, bowing as she opened the door.

“Please, just Anya,” she replied uncomfortably.

Leo nodded, but he wasn’t about to change his address. Always better to err on the formal side, said Lady Carwen, and in this at least he trusted her. Other Ladies said much the same.

He followed her in, trying to calm his racing heart. He’d woken early and skipped breakfast, the whole time agonizing about whether to take the herb. It had been well past twelve hours, but he’d taken so much yesterday. In the end he’d used a half dose, and so far it seemed he was getting all the downsides without the intended effect.

“My apologies for yesterday,” Lady Tur said, sitting carefully on the bed. “I was overwhelmed and unprepared for the Matching. I can’t expect you to do all the work. I’m the one who will be benefitting after all, for what it’s worth.”

Leo shook his head, politely, wincing. He knew he was the worst of the Journeymen, but he wished she wouldn’t remind him. But then, there was something in her voice. He looked at her more carefully.

She was obviously nervous, maybe even more than yesterday. But she was wearing — nightwear, not so different from Lady Carwen when he visited. It had lace edgings and looked quite fine, reminding him that whatever her status, she was after all a Lady.

“It was no fault of yours, Lady Tur. I myself was overwhelmed by the prospect of the Match, and thus mishandled my doses of herbs. They do have side effects. You were very kind to set aside this mistake.”

“It was no trouble. I think we both have reasons to make this work, don’t we? And I want to make sure I’m not making this unintentionally difficult for you. Please, don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything you need.”

She smiled unconvincingly, leaning forward and displaying quite a lot of cleavage. In his distraction yesterday, he’d barely even looked at her, and Leo realized she wasn’t unpleasing to look at. Taller than average, with a healthy slight roundness. Very plain face, small nose and eyes too close together, but she looked smart. The night garment was too small, and it stretched tightly across her high breasts. A blossom scent tickled his nose, and he realized it came from the Lady.

She’d done this for him, he realized with shock. Prepared herself, as though he was more than just a Consort. She was treating him as though he were courting her.

The thought terrified Leo. “Some Ladies may attach more to the brief joining than is appropriate,” Lady Carwen had said. “This is perverse and dangerous for both. A Consort may rise to power in the Lady’s wake, and may even become a private advisor. But he must never mistake this for a partnership. The central duty is one of service: the Consort provides, and the Lady takes. Any disruption of this core transaction weakens it, and a Consort behaving above his station will be cut to pieces.”

Leo swallowed. “Has my Lady thought on any service I may provide? Something to put you at ease, so the task can be comfortable? If you prefer, I have taken the liberty of bringing oils that smooth the joining.”

Lady Tur opened her mouth, and then suddenly her face began turning red again. It was uncomfortable to see, when he’d been trying so hard for the polite distance they needed to establish.

“I,” she began. “I — prepared myself somewhat. Though perhaps it was less than I should have. Do you — what is your suggestion?”

Leo nodded. This much he had prepared for. “I believe I may be most efficient with my mouth. It is frequently a Lady’s choice.”

“Oh,” she said, turning even more red. “Then, I guess that’s the thing to do.”

Slowly she pulled at her garment, grunting as she tried to free it around her breasts. Then it was loose, up and over her head. She turned quickly to fold it on her bed table, then faced him, hands clutched nervously in front of her sex.

Leo found himself staring at her full breasts, soft and inviting, with their tiny nipples so unlike Lady Carwen’s. She had a lovely body, and he realized his dizziness had subsided and his manhood was finally stiffening.

“Do I — just lie back?”

“Yes, Lady,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable, and please correct me if anything does not please.”

She sat back on the bed, legs hanging awkwardly off, but this would be a good position. Leo moved forward, kneeling and holding her leg still when she tried to move further back. The healthy dense hair surrounding her sex was matted with her dried juices, and now he could smell her true scent.

The Lady was quivering, but he was on familiar ground now. With careful ease, he touched his tongue to her hole, bringing the tip up swiftly to the left. She tasted less like Lady Carwen than he’d expected. He brought his tongue down to the right, stroking along her thigh, and she shrieked.

“Tickles,” she coughed apologetically. He filed that away. Lady Carwen had been insistent that not every woman liked the same things.

So he settled in, as directly and quickly as Lady Carwen had taught. Nothing too strong, but never easing. The Lady was quivering much more now, and he took that as encouragement. Lady Carwen did that when she was truly feeling her own pleasure. But there were confusing surprises to his tongue. Lady Tur had differences in places he didn’t expect. The lips were thinner, and he wasn’t sure he had found her most sensitive button within the folds. Cautiously he flicked his tongue across his best guess.

“Skies ablaze,” she yelped, bucking away from him.

“My Lady,” he stammered, bringing his head up and trying to peek at her face between those breasts.

“It was surprise,” she said weakly. Her eyes glanced down very briefly and then snapped away. “Please, Leo, continue as you’ve been trained.”

He nodded, confused by her reactions. She did seem to be producing some lubrication, and with his saliva the joining should be comfortable enough at this point. But he followed her implication and settled his mouth within her fur once more. She didn’t protest when he continued as he’d been doing, though she jerked slightly from time to time.

In truth this prolonged stimulation was far more exciting than he’d expected. Like with Lady Carwen the first few times. He could feel the Seed faintly, gathering within him. He’d been right all along: whatever else, this Lady was physically exciting, and he was free of the particular dread he’d felt the last few months with Lady Carwen.

The Lady coughed and pulled away from him.

“I, we’re — we’re a little short for time. I think I’m ready.”

“Yes, I believe you are,” he said, standing up smoothly. With a flick of the wrist, he undid his breeches, freeing a manhood stiff enough for once to make him satisfied.

At her odd strangled sound, he looked up to find her propped up on one elbow and staring with an expression that looked like horror.

“Didn’t remember it was — so big,” she said. “Best get it over with, I suppose.”

“It will be easier with time,” he agreed. “But it should not hurt the first time, either. I will be very careful. Do you have any preferences?”

When she shook her head, he nodded and positioned himself carefully. She had her eyes squeezed shut, her hands grasping the sheets tightly. Clearly terrified.

“Try to relax, Lady,” he said. “I can stop immediately if you are in discomfort.”

He hoped she didn’t stop him. His cock was alive with energy. The brush of her wet curly hairs along the tip, her smell still on his lips and nose — even the slight jiggling of her breasts, though it shamed him to know that was a result of the Lady’s discomfort. He looked at her breasts, imagined what Lady Charlotte might look like under her robe — it could be, after all, given the vagueness of his fantasy. He imagined fastening his lips on her perfect, tiny nipple. With a groan, he pressed the tip against her, and glanced down in confusion, because he thought he’d gotten it right.

“Is it in?” she whispered, a question that gave him no small alarm. He hadn’t yet entered at all, merely pressed against her entrance.

“Not quite,” he said. “Breathe easily, my Lady.”

He moved slightly, testing the angle. Lady Carwen had assured him that he was not abnormally large, that he would cause no pain to any woman if he was cautious at first. But she was holding her sex closed against him, in her fear. Not knowing what else to do, he put his hand on hers, where she gripped the sheets. To his discomfort, she moved it, grasping his fingers awkwardly and tightly. But if it gave her something to focus on —

Carefully, slowly, he pressed inward. She made a small grunt, but nodded. One more push, letting his weight help — yes, he was entering her. More than that, he could feel her need, the way his Seed reached out to meet something inside her — oh, he thought he imagined this, the few times it’d happened with Lady Carwen, but it felt so real. Another push, and his head was fully inside her. His Seed was gathering, a roiling heat as powerful as he’d ever felt, but above all he couldn’t hurt her. Lady Carwen had drilled that in, so many times.

“Lady, are you in discomfort?”

She didn’t answer immediately, and in fact was hyperventilating. He had a bad feeling that she might reenact his performance from yesterday.

“No,” she said, gasping. “Yes. Don’t know. We’re so close, just — let’s finish.”

“Of course,” he said, the thrill filling him. He pushed deeper, and she yelped, gripping his hand tighter.

Whatever she said, he understood that reaction: no further. But the Seed needed to be delivered deep, as far in the body as he was capable. Perhaps it wasn’t so important, this first time.

He swallowed, looked at her beautiful body, and let her scent run through him. The Seed yearned for her, and she reached. She reached.

“Lady,” he gasped. “Prepare –”

His balls erupted as if his small hairs were aflame, the heat exploding up, up, his manhood pulsing with its power, and then it slammed into the Lady.

“Aaahh,” she cried, and suddenly the sweet warm embrace of her sex was gone, leaving his Seed to blast through the air, onto her abdomen, her humble face, her straight golden hair, and all across her sheets. Leo’s body shook with the aftermath, but the fire had faded the moment the joining broke, leaving nothing but globs of sticky liquid still pulsing out until the last dribbled on his thighs. Not Seed at all.

The loss was obscene, horrible to Leo. To have come so close — surely his body had finally done it, producing the Seed he always thought was possible, only to be thwarted by this Lady’s idiot clumsiness.

“Lady,” he rasped, but he didn’t know what to say.

She opened her eyes, and for a moment they locked on his. Her intensity rocked him back.

“I feel it,” she whispered, splaying her fingers out.

There was a slight rattle, a shift somewhere, and then it was gone.

“I did it,” she said, closing her eyes. “I can do it. Oh Skies, I’m going to be sick.”

All of a sudden she was up, coughing, reaching under the bed for her private bucket. He turned away, shocked and embarrassed, but despite her retching it didn’t sound as if she’d brought anything up.

“May I –”

“Thank you,” she coughed. “Oh, no, I have to be in class. I — tomorrow, the same time?”

“Of course, my Lady,” he said, backing out and trying to wipe himself discreetly as he stuffed his still-firm cock into his breeches. “I look forward to it.”

#

It was so unbelievably messy. No one had told her that. His — Seed was everywhere, all over her room, her face and hair, and it smelled. Not exactly a bad smell, but the effect was making her sick. Or maybe it was the extraordinary feeling, that sudden burgeoning of power when it had entered her. Some portion remained, a satisfied humming deep inside her that felt alien and not entirely pleasant.

She tried wiping her torso with the towel, and finally gave up, pulling free the entire soiled sheet and using the dry bits on her body and face. Between her legs. She’d made a mistake, because it was supposed to go inside her, but there was so much of it that surely she’d gotten a fair amount anyway. She was too embarrassed to even look down there. Hastily she stuffed a cloth inside her smallclothes, then wiped her face one more time and dressed.

Was this what the Seed did, then? She supposed it was everything they said. It’d turned her barely-existing Force gestures into something that could rock her bowl, all the way across the room. Nothing so impressive, she supposed, unless you were Anya.

A servant gave her an odd look, and she knew she was a mess, but other students had looked that way yesterday, so she figured it was a sisterhood she’d finally joined.

Anya was a few minutes late, but she came in alongside Prala, who looked as though she’d run the whole way.

“You too?” Prala laughed, and Anya for once felt a genuine smile. But Prala squinted at her, too, not quite at her face. Anya scanned for open seats, finding to her dismay that only Melina and Essia were unpartnered. Gritting her teeth, she sat across from Melina.

Melina glowered at her, and Anya shrank. The other woman was effortlessly intimidating, always seeming to tower over Anya despite the fact they were of a height. It was her endless self-confidence, which unlike Essia’s had been entirely earned. She’d been self-taught, and talented enough to attract a real Royal sponsor, not a backwater minor noble house like the Jeharias.

And naturally, she was beautiful, current expression notwithstanding.

“Sorry,” Anya muttered. Melina shook her head, launching right into the exercise. They were supposed to push the wooden ball towards their partner, a kind of sparring that Anya always lost badly. But today she had sudden hope. Force magic was Melina’s weakest subject, and Anya felt stronger than she’d ever been. Giddy, she caught up to Melina’s pattern, and the battle began. Anya could feel the solidity of the ball, as though a part of her actually reached to push —

It was over soon enough, with the ball rolling into Anya’s lap as always. But Melina frowned, looking more carefully at her. No doubt she’d been surprised by Anya’s newfound strength. Then the frown cracked, and she suddenly burst out laughing, pointing at Anya’s hair.

Anya reached reflexively, and felt it. A glob of — oh, Skies, she’d been too hasty and had missed it. Her face burned, and Melina guffawed. Other students turned to see what was up.

“Anya had a good breakfast?” someone whispered.

“Doesn’t she know that’s not how it works?”

“Guess we know which hole she prefers.”

“Looks like she needs practice, though –”

“Class,” Lady Prentisse began, but she’d never quiet them for the whole two hours. Anya backed up her stool, and an instant later she was running out of the classroom.

#

Leo wiped his palms on his breeches. The message had reached him late last evening, to come early. “Before seven, earlier if possible,” it had said. As if he had something on his schedule that might prevent it. He’d come a full half hour earlier than that, and he still fretted he might be late.

She answered when he knocked, opening the door. Wearing the same lacy night attire she had yesterday, though the rest of her looked rather less put together. The Lady looked as though she’d hardly slept, and Leo felt some pity. She hadn’t meant to mess it up so badly yesterday. It was his fault in truth. That’s what Lady Carwen said. It was always his fault, if anything went awry. This was his duty.

She closed the door behind him, then leaned on it as though she needed the support.

“Leo, I fear my ignorance will land us both in serious trouble. I’ve told myself it was natural, given my upbringing. But that’s a child speaking, not an adult who has to face her future.”

Leo waited for her to continue, but she seemed to expect something of him.

“I am here to serve you, however best that may be.”

She stared at him a moment, frowning.

“I’m asking you to teach me. Tell me things in words, I mean. There is a library, and perhaps everything is scattered through the scrolls, but I would have to be too specific in my requests, and that would only make my standing more pathetic. I don’t know who else to turn to, where it won’t become gossip. You aren’t ignorant, and this is something I need. Tell me how it works.”

He stared at her. “How, er, what works? My Lady, what are you asking me to explain?”

She turned red. “What we’re supposed to do. How it works. What I should be asking you but don’t even know to ask. What — how your body does what it does, and how I can make sure not to mess it up.”

Leo’s voice caught in his throat. “But that is no concern of yours, Lady. It is my role to learn how to provide you with Seed, and I promise I will devote every –”

“I know that, you obstinate lunk! Will you be quiet and stop hiding behind your formality? Just let me try to ask you questions, and answer honestly, as though I’m a foolish girl. Can you do that, Leo?”

Leo was startled by her sudden change in tone, but it was the sort he was well used to from Lady Carwen. In a way, the burst of frustration was reassuring, the kind of thing a Consort should expect from a Lady.

“I will try my best, Lady Tur. Please, go ahead and ask.”

She shook her head and moved to sit on the bed. He followed, stopping at a courteous distance. Clearly she was not expecting him to provide her with Seed, not for a while. He hoped the full dose of herb would last.

Lady Tur looked up at him. “What’s it supposed to be like? When you did it properly with the ones who trained you, how did you give them Seed? Am I just missing something about the whole process?”

Leo blinked. “I — do not think you are missing anything vital. Our joining yesterday would have — pardon, it proceeded quite effectively, but I have not learned properly –”

“It was my fault,” Lady Tur said, rubbing her eyes. “Obviously you can’t come out and say that, but I screwed something up. I should have stayed still, and let you — your Seed, I mean.” She shook her head. “I can’t even ask this properly. Should I stay as still as possible?”

He slowly shook his head. “It is my Lady’s choice. I can adapt.”

“But I didn’t realize it was so fussy.”

He could tell her the truth, that it was mostly because he hadn’t been fully inside her. But wouldn’t that make her more nervous next time?

“Is it always such a mess?”

He hesitated. “I was — unprepared for the strength. It was my error.”

“The strength,” she said, turning more red. “You mean, the volume?”

Leo nodded hesitantly, then took a gamble. “Lady, in truth that was more Seed, and more powerful Seed, than I have ever emitted. I believe it a good omen.”

It wasn’t a lie. It would all have carried Seed, if she had just — Leo tried to quell the frustration.

She looked at him sharply. “You truly were surprised, then,” she said slowly. “You weren’t just trying to make me feel better.”

He didn’t know what reply to give, and she didn’t seem to expect one.

“All right, then. This is progress. So, next time I’ll stay still, and you do what you can to keep it inside. That’s what’s necessary, isn’t it? Inside my, uh, sex?”

He nodded, then plunged ahead, because he suspected she wouldn’t ask. “It is better as deep as I can inject it. And some Ladies find there are other more potent locations. In the second hole, or the mouth.”

Leo hadn’t thought it was possible for her to look more embarrassed.

“The mouth,” she said. “That’s what they meant. They thought — oh, Skies, but how could I even manage that? You’re so –”

“It is not necessary to try unless my Lady wishes,” he said quickly. “I believe the first way we tried will be very successful, with some practice. But if you are ever curious, you need only ask.”

“And you’ve done it all those ways, with the Ladies who trained you.”

He nodded slowly. “But there was only one Lady, for that training. I — others received more diverse training, but I am ashamed to say I was not considered a high prospect.”

She looked at him directly, and he had difficulty meeting her eyes.

“Perhaps they underestimated you,” she said. “In any case I am fully satisfied with your training. She must have been good at it.”

He nodded politely, because he wasn’t a fool.

“But you haven’t done this with anyone else,” she said.

He flushed. “No. It is to be expected that I will make errors, as Lady — I understand each Lady can be quite different. You have already shown me great patience, and I –”

“Skies, Leo, you can skip that part. I don’t need to be flattered. Anyway, I’ve taken us off-topic. What is it you need from me? I understand there are dances, I mean, I have heard that in some city taverns –”

She must have seen the look of horror on his face.

“Lady, please do not think of such things. My duty is to provide you with Seed, nothing more. I have been trained to do that without any — assistance, save the herbs when necessary. It is not appropriate for you to — apologies. I only mean, you are the one with the rare talent. It would waste your time to learn such things, when you could be advancing your skills. And it would not help.”

Lady Tur shook her head. “I don’t understand that. You are a man, aren’t you? Wouldn’t it make everything easier if I learned your — whatever makes your Seed stronger?”

Leo shook his head vehemently. “Apologies, Lady, but I believe you misunderstand. In this, I am a Consort, not a man. Please, do not think of me that way. The Seed is drawn naturally to your intrinsic strength, but it is not something you can influence. Do not mistake it for a man’s ordinary — emissions.”

Lady Tur stared at him. “I truly have misunderstood, then. When you are not with me, or another one with talent, are you an — ordinary man?”

Leo nodded slowly. “But I am not permitted. The Seed is carried on these same emissions. All must be reserved for you.”

“But then, if it’s the same emissions, why should the same techniques I have heard women use on ordinary men not help?”

“Lady, it is simply different with you. It is the Seed, after all.”

The Lady shook her head. “How does it know? Is there a distance involved? If I were in the next room, and a woman without talent here, would –”

Leo winced. “Please, Lady, do not ask me to envision such scenarios. All I know is that it requires the direct joining, in whichever form.”

She sighed. “My nervousness has me fleeing to intellectual questions. You’re telling me ever so politely to be practical. And so I must, if we are to make any progress. Very well, then, let us follow as we did yesterday. You said we just needed practice.”

Lady Tur pulled her nightwear off and hopped back on the bed, closing her eyes tight.

#

Anya’s stomach churned, as bad as yesterday. Maybe worse. She’d been nervously excited yesterday, teasing herself as best she could with her fingers. This morning it hadn’t worked so well, and she’d been up a long time pacing before Leo even came in.

Her mind was wandering. Leo hadn’t come to touch her yet. Cautiously she opened her eyes, only to see him trying to pop something in his mouth without her knowing. She closed them quickly. Clearly the young man wanted so badly to succeed at his duty. She would’ve asked about the herbs, but he clearly was embarrassed to need them.

Still he didn’t touch her. Finally she opened her eyes again. Leo was simply standing there, looking at her miserably.

“Lady,” he said.

Anya had an idea what the problem was. She didn’t feel ready, either. Would that make him feel better?

“I need some help, I think,” she said. “Like yesterday. But I might need more this time. Would you…?”

He looked terribly relieved, and she knew she’d handled it right. He could focus on something else, something he was good at.

His tongue touched her and she grabbed the covers, because it was just as exquisite as yesterday, and even more ticklish. She didn’t know how to tell him. It was like nothing she’d felt before, and if she could just relax and enjoy it —

She cracked open her eyes, peering down. Her curly dense hairs brushed against his bobbing forehead. He was truly using his tongue, in her most private spot — she’d fantasized vaguely about such things, based on overheard nuggets of gossip. The idea was unbelievably titillating, but something was wrong with her. Her hand cramped, and she tried to stop grasping at the covers.

He sensed the motion and looked up, catching her gaze with his deep brown eyes. He hastily looked back down, redoubling his efforts. At least he’d gotten her pretty wet, though she didn’t know how much was her doing.

“You’re good at this,” she murmured, hoping to boost his confidence. “I think I’m ready.”

He licked her a few more times, and she almost could feel something. Closer to what she sometimes felt on her own, under the sheets, when she’d found the rhythm of her fingers —

“Wait,” she said. “Your fingers. That would prepare me better, wouldn’t it?”

He rocked back on his knees, looking at her with an inscrutable expression.

“Yes, it might, Lady,” he said. “Would you — is there anything else that would aid you?”

She had no idea. Sometimes she turned on her stomach, pressing against the sheets, but that wouldn’t work for the joining. But there was something, if she could stand it. Maybe it was just curiosity. Maybe it was something more, the sort of thing he might not like. But she could phrase it right —

“I’d like to touch it,” she said. “Your – manhood. I want to see if I can feel the Seed.”

“Lady,” he said nervously. “I am not sure –”

“If it’s too uncomfortable, just tell me,” she said. “But I think this would help me. That, and your fingers.”

He nodded weakly, and she sat up. His eyes dropped right to her breasts for a minute, and she realized he’d done that a lot, just brief little looks. Men liked women’s breasts, after all, and whatever he claimed, Leo was a man. So she shifted forward, bringing them nearer so he couldn’t help but look.

Swallowing, Leo undid his breeches and stepped out, simultaneously bringing his fingers to her sex.

“Oh,” she hiccuped, because rough as it was, this was a more familiar sensation. Not even as good as using her left hand, but different. And his fingers were so big —

She looked down, and blinked in confusion. It didn’t look quite as she remembered. Tilted to the side like a drunkard, and not as intimidating. Gently she touched the tip, and he gasped.

Maybe that was like her button, too sensitive unless she was near a climax. Cautiously she reached lower, gripping the meaty shaft gently. She thought of the way Essia had grabbed her Consort, and let go.

“It is all right, Lady,” he said, sounding strained. “I — I think my Seed reaches for you.”

She didn’t feel anything like that, but Anya could believe it. His manhood had started to twitch, as though it knew her talents were near. It gave her a selfish thrill, to know she was powerful enough to do that for a Consort. Leo began to probe her with one finger even as he used the others along her slit. Not so different from how she did it, and rather pleasurable. Had his Lady taught him this? Surely she must have.

Anya brushed her fingers through his curly hairs at the base, touching lower, the heavy sacks that contained his Seed. His manhood jerked, and he jabbed her slightly with his finger.

“Perhaps –” he said weakly. “Perhaps it is time, if you are ready?”

She nodded, because she did feel ready. He’d put his fingers inside, and anyway his manhood wasn’t as large as her exaggerated memories —

But her eyes had fooled her again. It seemed swollen, larger than just a minute ago. Confused, fascinated, she curled her fingers around it one more time.

“No, Lady –” he cried, grabbing her hand and roughly pulling it away.

She felt a strange flash of heat, and suddenly his manhood exploded, thick ropy white liquid, splashing onto her breasts —

She’d fouled it up again. In a panic, hardly thinking, she grabbed his manhood and pulled it towards her sex. She was too clumsy, but Leo knew what she was trying, and with a tremendous groan he pushed against her entrance.

Anya felt the wet warmth, and it smoldered inside her. Leo pressed against her, seeming to find the path forward, and then he was inside her, like the other day. She could barely feel anything down there except the heat, like her hairs were on fire. She couldn’t look, so she found Leo’s eyes only to see him staring at — her breasts. It was strangely thrilling. She found his hand, held it tight, and he seemed to recall himself, eyes shying away from her and shortly pulling away completely. She hardly felt him leave her body.

Belatedly, she grabbed the small towel she’d kept ready, and lay back, towel held between her legs.

“My Lady,” he finally rasped. Poor Leo looked miserable, which didn’t seem fair, because Anya felt great, nearly ebullient. Her body tingled, and the strange alien warmth was back, but she’d expected it this time. Her stomach rumbled uncomfortably, but she could get used to this.

She closed her eyes, hesitantly performing the gesture of Force, and it was sloppy. But it hardly seemed to matter.

There was a scraping, and a sudden smash.

She stared at her bowl, in shards on the floor. Leo was staring, too.

“I did it,” she whispered, hardly able to believe.

“My — my Seed is within you?”

He looked so awfully unhappy, which wasn’t fair. “Yes, Leo, I think I got more of it this time. I’m so sorry for fouling it again. We’ll make it work, won’t we? This is going to work out?”

Leo nodded, looking relieved. “Yes, I hope I may serve you acceptably. If my Lady doesn’t mind –”

He made to leave, but she still had a half hour, and questions were bubbling up in her mind.

“No, please stay, Leo. Consort.”

He stared at her, eyes opening wide, and the reaction told her she’d been an idiot not to use his title from the start. It was what he wanted most, wasn’t it? Leo kept telling her that. It was her own problem to get used to it, to stop expecting — whatever it was she expected.

He stood shifting from foot to foot, and she realized he was a mess too, as much as she was. The Seed, or rather whatever it transformed back into — it was dripping off of him. Nervously, she pulled her towel away and offered it to him.

“Lady –” he said nervously.

“It’s not Seed anymore, is it?” she asked. “Now it’s just a bit of a mess, right? I’m not going to send you off without letting you clean up.”

Slowly he reached out, then turned away to clean, as though embarrassed to have her see. The reaction surprised her given what they’d just done.

“You wanted to just leave, didn’t you? Is that how it works with a Consort? Am I being terribly rude to have you stay?”

Leo shook his head but didn’t answer immediately. Eventually he spoke, but didn’t turn.

“It is not unusual,” he said slowly. “Not unusual, for a more competent Consort…”

She waited, but he didn’t continue.

“Oh, Consort, spit it out. You’re obviously competent, just nervous like me. What is it you think you should be able to do? And could you turn to talk to me? You don’t need to be embarrassed. I’m naked too, aren’t I?”

Slowly Leo turned, holding the towel almost comically in front of his crotch. Anya didn’t understand him at all.

“It is common, when possible — to couple again. To ensure you have captured all the Seed a Consort can produce.”

“Oh,” she said, flushing. “But Leo, I don’t think we can. I have class soon, and need to properly clean myself –”

“It would make no difference,” he said dejectedly, looking off to the side. “I cannot perform my duty at the moment.”

“I messed it up again, didn’t I,” she said. “I didn’t let you get enough inside me. That’s what the problem is.”

He looked pained. “The premature release was my mistake, Lady. In any case, it is a more basic problem. I was seldom capable of performing such with Lady Car — with my mentor.”

Anya blinked. “Lady Carwen? That hag who yelled at me for not finishing my potatoes and then ate them right off my plate?”

Leo made a small noise, and to her shock he seemed almost to crack a smile. Maybe she imagined it.

“Perhaps,” he said, voice strained. “I know little of the Ladies aside from my instructors. I should not have let her name slip. If my Lady –”

“Oh, of course I won’t talk to her, or let anyone realize I know. I’m sorry, Leo, I keep stumbling across taboos I didn’t know about. Maybe –”

Her thoughts were interrupted. Leo had allowed the towel to move slightly, and she could see behind it —

“Leo, what happened to your manhood?”

Shocked, he shifted to hide himself. But she’d seen it: hanging sideways, limp and nowhere near the size it had been. Things that had never made sense snapped clear.

“Leo,” she said softly. “Consort. I didn’t realize — this is normal, isn’t it? Your manhood is not always so stiff, or — large. It waxes and wanes. That’s why I haven’t seen more –” Anya didn’t finish the thought, because she wasn’t going to admit her occasional glances at men’s crotches.

He nodded slowly. “Lady, it had not occurred to me that you didn’t know. All men are like this. But it is shameful for a Consort’s Lady to see him in this state.”

“Why? What’s shameful? It’s normal, right? Should I be ashamed that it’s hard for me to be ready for you? That is what it signifies, am I correct? If you are full-sized, it means you’re ready to — to give me Seed?”

He hesitated. “Yes, Lady, it is required.”

“And the herb is sometimes necessary.”

Again he hesitated. “Yes, for some of us.”

Anya nodded. She was starting to get the hang of this.

“Thank you, Consort Leo. May I see you tonight?”

He looked surprised, and — pleased?

“Yes, of course, Lady. I will see you.”

#

Leo kept turning to look elsewhere, but then his eyes would return. She had such beautiful breasts, this Lady. Surely it was harmless, like his fantasies about Lady Charlotte.

“Oh, Skies,” she groaned, looking down tentatively. “I had no idea — surely you’re all the way in now?”

“Nearly,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “If my Lady permits, I can move in and out. Slowly, of course.”

She nodded, pressed her lips together firmly. Leo felt like an idiot having to describe coupling in these terms, but he’d promised himself not to underestimate her ignorance. The Lady had warned him, after all.

Ignorant she was, but not stupid. She was learning, and full of so many questions. And it wasn’t just a lack of cruelty. Leo was starting to believe she might truly be a kind Lady, like Lady Charlotte. He hadn’t ever hoped of being so lucky.

He watched her breasts move in lazy jiggling circles with his slow motions. Beads of sweat pooled between them, her skin sweating nearly as readily as his. Lady Carwen’s skin had always seemed cool and dry. Like a lizard.

“Are you near?” she said, sounding strained. And Leo realized he’d been daydreaming, taking too much pleasure in the odd slow circles, the rhythmic pulses of her sex gripping his shaft. Whatever else, she was so much more comfortable than Lady Carwen. More than comfortable. It troubled him she’d taken hold of his hand again, and he hadn’t noticed. He should have foregone the herb. This disconnection, the strange meandering thoughts — at least he was performing adequately.

“Yes, Lady,” he said, looking up and then hastily away when she met his eyes. “Perhaps, if you simply close your eyes –”

Lady Anya nodded, trusting him, and it made him guilty. Because as soon as she did, he stared at her breasts. If she were just a woman, he could bend over and fasten his mouth on one delectable nipple. If she were just a woman, he could relax.

But she had talent, and she was obviously stronger than she claimed. Stronger than Lady Carwen. Anya would hone her abilities with him, and then she would be assigned a more experienced Consort as befitted her talents. It was the natural progression, for a Lady who might become a true Mage.

She felt tighter than ever, and Leo realized she wasn’t slippery enough. But she’d insisted they do it right tonight, quickly and straightforwardly. He was the one who’d slowed them down. And now he felt her reaching, something within her grasping for his Seed, and the fire rose. This time he was in control of it, stoking its blaze, honing it as Lady Carwen had told him, back when she thought he was worth teaching.

Leo could slow now, preserving the Lady from small hurts she might regret.

His breathing had slowed, and it was as if time itself lagged. Even the sounds of their bodies were muted as he drew himself back and then pushed, the final plunge. Leo inhaled, breathing deeper than possible, taking the world’s air inside him. His cock finally settled fully inside her, and then he exploded.

Time snapped back like a bent green branch, light and sound and heat fountaining out of him. He’d never felt anything like it, and he gasped, trying not to collapse on the Lady. She had cried out at the first, but now she was still, gripping his hand and trembling as her body reached to take what he could give. He made the small circular motions that Lady Carwen had told him could milk the most of his Seed, and the sensations swelled beyond anything he’d ever felt.

Finally it was over, and he almost couldn’t bear to exit her. Lady Carwen had told him this was acceptable, for a few moments, to help the Seed stay within her. And so he watched her heaving breasts, the glistening of sweat over her whole body, and slowly realized he’d never seen such a beautiful woman in his life.

She opened her eyes, and they were faintly glowing.

The reality slapped Leo. Lady Anya would be a Mage, and he was a Journeyman Consort of little ability. Hastily he withdrew, gently placing her towel between her legs and availing himself of the one she’d provided.

A kind Mage, but far beyond his station. He couldn’t afford to think about her the way he’d started to.

A gentle breeze whispered around them, and he ventured a look at the Lady, who seemed astonished by this modest display of talent. Maybe she truly hadn’t found her talents properly. From what he understood, even strong Mages seldom came into their full strength before their middle age, and if he could hasten it for this kind woman, that was an appropriate gift from a Consort. A minor but vital service. Quietly, Leo could be proud of that.

“If you require, I may be able to provide service again tonight,” he said, feeling bold. “Late tonight, I must add.”

She shook her head, looking dazed. The glow had left her eyes, or else maybe it’d never been there. Maybe he’d imagined it, because he’d hoped so much.

“I…” she said weakly. “I believe I may need to take a break. Just for a day, perhaps. It may have been too much for me. Morning after next, early again?”

“Of course, Lady,” Leo said, feeling a guilty relief. Truthfully he hadn’t been sure if even tomorrow morning he’d be ready again. This would give him a day off of the herb, so he could rely more on its potency.

He bowed, allowing himself one more look at her body splayed with beautiful awkwardness on the covers.

As he walked back to his quarters, Leo reminded himself that though he was the bottom of the barrel, he was still a Journeyman. He was capable, and one day he might be chosen by a Lady, to settle onto an estate somewhere. No one with great talent, but if he was lucky, someone easy. Someone he might grow old with, in the way of the most trusted Consorts. Always at her side, and reliable to the end. That was how her family would remember him.

#

Narrowing her eyes, Anya stared at the ball. Melina had sat down across from her, no doubt choosing an easy ego boost after another day of Essia’s taunts. Anya almost felt bad for her.

“Ready yet?” Melina said.

Even her voice was lovely, if you ignored the tone. Anya decided she didn’t feel bad for Melina at all. Maybe Anya wouldn’t be a pushover today. She was still brimming with the disquieting power, though nothing like that first instant last night, when it’d exploded in all directions like —

The ball shot towards her, and she instinctively pushed back, before her hands were even in position. To her surprise, the ball slowed, and as she wove the patterns desperately, she felt something she’d never felt before.

Strength.

Smiling, she pushed, and pushed, and she watched in astonishment as the ball halted and rolled, slowly but surely back towards Melina.

Something hard hit her shin, and she yelped. The ball shot back into her lap.

“Hey!” she blurted, half rising from her chair, but Melina just smiled lazily, as if egging her on to yell about how her partner had cheated.

There was no point. A few of her classmates chuckled, and Anya settled unhappily into her seat. The power she’d felt inside her was more like curdled milk now, roiling and unpleasant.

She lost the next four rounds, and Melina didn’t even have to kick her.

#

The messenger had been very specific, and assured Leo that his Journeyman status overruled any previous instructions about which parts of the complex were off limits. After all, the Lady’s rooms had been off limits in the past. If she wanted to try it in this disused storage area, that was her choice. Lady Carwen had told him to humor all of his Lady’s whims, because the stranger requests could be giving voice to a Lady’s powerful intuition about the pathways of her talents.

So he waited in the dark, nervously wishing he’d held out on taking the herb. But her unexpected summons had made him worry about his performance.

The door opened, and he turned eagerly, only to be blinded by the lantern. He blinked, and when his vision returned, he saw a completely unexpected woman. Lady, he corrected himself. She was the one who’d stood up at Match Day, expecting to pick second. She would have great talent and the status that went with it.

“My Lady,” he stammered, taking a step back.

She closed the door, set down the lantern, and walked confidently up to him, looking him over.

“Your name, boy?”

He cringed, terrified of this woman who’d singled him out for some reason.

“You stupid?”

“Leo Oakborn,” he managed. “My Lady, you have caught me unexpectedly. Do you come at Lady Tur’s request?”

She barked a humorless laugh. “Not at all, and no doubt you’re wondering why I’m here. Or perhaps you’re not wondering at all, because you knew this was coming?”

He shook his head slowly, baffled. Was this about Lady Tur? Some politics he didn’t understand? But suddenly he did understand.

Lady Carwen’s voice came back to him, bored and unsatisfied. “A Consort may find himself contested between two Ladies of power. This is never a good position, of course, but his duty is always clear. There is but one Lady he is a Consort to. It is his responsibility to find a path and shield his Lady from whatever weakness may have let another woman attempt to take him.”

“If my Lady pleases,” he said carefully. “I have duties, as a Consort. If there is some business I am capable to help you with, I would be delighted to serve, but I am not capable of any tasks that may interfere with my duties as a Consort. Even as a Journeyman Consort.”

She clapped her hands together slowly. “Oh, well said, Leo. Not a hint of disrespect to me, nor the slightest whiff of contempt for the incompetent girl you’ve been assigned to. What game is old Lady Carwen playing, I wonder?”

He watched her, trying to hide his unease. None of this made sense.

She stepped closer, and he moved back gracefully, his dance training overriding any conscious fear. But then he bumped into a pile of crates, nearly losing his balance, and she kept advancing, her figure blotting out the lantern light and looming over him.

“Lady,” he said weakly.

“Nothing,” she murmured, to herself more than him. “I feel nothing.”

But he felt something within him. This Lady was powerful, and his Seed was responding, albeit sluggishly. He was dizzy, and realized the herbs were beginning to weaken.

“Listen carefully,” she said. Her voice was warm on his face. A beautiful voice. “Your Lady is rather stupid, but I don’t think you are. Not at all. You must understand something of how this game is played.”

She moved slightly, and something lurched in his groin. Suddenly it was pitch dark, and her hand touched his face. An instant later the lantern blazed bright, and then to his terror a flame appeared on his left, from the pile of crates. It vanished as quickly, leaving his manhood quivering.

“Your Seed felt that, didn’t it?”

Leo was frozen, back pressed uncomfortably against the edge of a crate.

“I am your path to comfort and power. As my star rises, so will yours. Now, give me your Seed.”

“Lady,” he said, terror rising. “I cannot.”

“You will,” she said. “You will, because I am giving you an easy path. It suits me to have you remain unnoticed, paired with a Lady of no particular strength. You need simply perform your duty periodically with me. The alternative to this path will leave your Lady ruined and result in your expulsion for a time. And it will mean my displeasure, when you stand before me afterwards. My displeasure can be a terrible thing of its own.”

She touched his shirt, his finest shirt, and the spot immediately crackled into flame. He yelped, and then it was out.

The lesser evil, he told himself. This woman was a terror, and he had no doubt she could ruin his Lady. He hated that thought, he realized. And this would buy them time.

Because whatever this fell Lady’s strength, it was surely being aided by a far more potent Seed than his own. Lady Tur was underestimated by all, it seemed. If she found her strength, she could fend off this threat. He could shield her from this, as Lady Carwen insisted was his duty.

“How may I best serve you, Lady?”

She laughed. “Oh, not stupid at all. Go ahead and undress. I am impatient, so you may use my mouth.”

He blinked at the odd phrasing, but her meaning was obvious. He quickly undid his breeches, thanking the Skies that his manhood was reasonably firm. It was her magic that had done it. Far more powerful than Lady Carwen’s. More powerful than any he’d been close to.

The thought felt traitorous. Lady Tur was clearly ignorant of so much — Leo had already guessed she must be new to training. She would catch up.

“Are you ready, Lady?”

She gave her answer by dropping to her knees. Gritting his teeth, Leo took hold of his manhood and began to stroke. It went against all his instincts, but he needed to perform for this Lady. His Seed felt sluggish despite the firmness under his hand.

On the third stroke, her lips found his tip, and then her hand somewhat forcefully pulled his away.

“Lady,” he began, but then she simply swallowed him.

Leo gasped, trying not to move, because he surely was partway into her throat. Perfectly positioned, but Lady Carwen had warned him that it was uncomfortable, and many Ladies would not be able to manage it. And Leo wasn’t quite ready yet.

Her nose pressed against his groin and tickled his hairs, and then her tongue began to press against him. One hand scraped the underside of his balls, and suddenly he was hurtling over the edge.

“Lady, my Seed –”

He blasted right into her throat, and his entire body tingled. But he felt only the faintest whiff of Seed. The emission was respectable, but nothing like his experience with Lady Tur. When it had mattered most, his Seed had failed to rise to the Lady’s call. He hoped what he’d provided was enough.

When it was clear he was finished, the Lady withdrew quickly, her teeth bumping him unpleasantly. She coughed a few times, then breathed carefully.

“Did she drain you completely?”

The question shocked him with its rudeness, and it stung his ego badly. But suddenly Leo realized this was an opportunity. For once his failure might serve a greater purpose, by making this Lady lose interest in him.

“Lady,” he said carefully. “I — fear you may have expectations I cannot meet. Was this not sufficient Seed? Sometimes I have a little more, under the right circumstances. If my Lady is willing to wait, ah, perhaps two more hours –”

“Skies above,” she spat. “I refuse to believe you’re as useless as Tomas. You’re playing some game with me. You and Lady Carwen.”

“Lady,” he said again. “I have no idea what you refer to. I am proud to be a Journeyman, and I will continue to work my skills to the utmost of my ability. But I cannot claim the greatest innate gifts, much as I wish.”

She stood, blocking the light again, and he shrank back. She was not really a large woman. Smaller than Lady Tur, truly.

The slap caught him entirely by surprise, and he fell awkwardly against the piled crates.

“You’re too polite,” she said. “It borders on insolence. Now why don’t you have a long think about how you might satisfy me more properly next time. For your Lady’s sake.”

#

“My Lady.”

Anya smiled nervously at Leo, then looked more closely. He looked terrible, as if he’d barely slept. And there was a faint bruise on his cheek, though he’d clearly tried to cover it with powder.

“Leo, are you feeling all right?”

He nodded gravely. “I am ready to serve you, Lady.”

“I was honestly asking, Leo. There’s no rush, if you want to wait some more.”

Leo looked horrified. “No, Lady, there is no need. I am ready to serve, and that is all you need to know of me.”

Anya stared at him. He definitely wasn’t all right. She had no idea what it was like among the Consorts. Did they get bullied too? Probably.

“You can best serve me by sitting in my chair and talking for a while,” Anya said. “My mind is disarrayed and your presence comforts me. It takes great concentration to use my talents.”

Leo nodded slowly, seeming to accept this. But after sitting, he stayed silent.

“How do you spend your day, Leo?”

He blinked. “I meditate, and I train in the yard with the others. I still have a few classes to finish, but they are optional. My time is completely at your command, Lady.”

Anya bit her lip. Could she protect him somehow? “You mean, I could just tell you to stay here with me? All the time? Except my classes.”

Leo frowned. “It would be improper,” he said finally. “I cannot fulfill my duties with you for an entire day.”

Anya shook her head. “You’re fulfilling your duty right now, aren’t you? I feel better already. But don’t Consorts, I mean, don’t they live with their Ladies? How could it be improper?”

Leo nodded, adopting the neutral tone that told Anya she’d once again betrayed her utter ignorance. “Lady, it is proper for a Consort to live on the estate with his Lady. Sometimes there are even adjoining rooms, so that she may call upon him immediately without intermediary. This is common in the castle, I believe, as the Mages must occasionally wield their talents with but a moment’s notice.”

Anya vaguely knew about this, but she’d never thought about what it entailed. Did they do it right out in the open, to take advantage of the highest potency? Did more than one Mage do that at once, in sight of each other? Her face flushed and she tried not to think about that.

“So I could request a room for you nearer by,” she said slowly. “That would be proper.”

Conflicting emotions passed over Leo’s face, and then he shrugged. “It would not be improper. I believe one or two of the other Consorts have such an arrangement.”

Anya shook her head, annoyed. “You should have told me. There’s so much I don’t know. Leo, you should know that I’ve been here barely a year. And before that I was raised entirely among women, which I hope partly explains my ridiculous inexperience. Leo, please, don’t hesitate to tell me things I might not know to ask.”