The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Ezmerelda sighed as she scanned the board. Unexpected events had sapped her savings and she was short on rent for the month. Usually only two jobs were necessary to cover her monthly expenses. Her next selection would be her fourth. The extra work was cutting into her practice time. A wizard’s life was supposed to be spent in intense study and training, not traipsing around the countryside doing odd jobs to ensure a roof over her head. Ezmerelda gritted her teeth and suppressed the urge to punch something.

Her eyes slid over requests paired with commissions for removing curses, creating talismans, and killing monsters. One item on the board piqued her interest. Her hand closed on the right corner of the flyer as another hand closed on the left one. A quick tug did not free the piece of paper. Her eyes started at the callused hand with dirt under its fingernails, trailed up the long sleeved shirt, and settled on the face of Roman.

“Let go. I saw it first,” she growled.

“Look, I need the money and this is the only job I think I can do. Can you pick another?”

“Go hug a shrub. This one is mine.” Her voice unintentionally rose in volume. The clinking of glasses stopped and heads at nearby tables turned towards them. An island of silence formed in the noisy drinking hall. Roman’s face scrunched up as he considered his next words.

“Aye. Aye. This hullabaloo is harshing my buzz,” boomed the voice of Timander. The squat guild master held a large crockery mug in each hand. Both Ezmerelda and Roman jumped at the sound of his voice. Timander chewed his bottom lip idly causing his wide, lantern jaw to swing back and forth.

“Both of you go.” Foam slopped over the lip of the mug as he gestured with it still in hand. “Split the commission. Since Roman is the junior guild member he’ll get forty percent.”

Ezmerelda did some quick mental math and decided her potential cut would still cover her needs.

“Yes, sir,” the unlikely teammates replied in unison.

Ezmerelda muttered under her breath as she stuffed clothes into her pack. She disliked rookies. They talked too much, froze during fights, and their magic was rarely useful. Mostly they could perform tricks that were meant to dazzle slack-jawed onlookers. The month kept getting worse with each passing day.

Her patience nearly exhausted, she tapped her foot on the tile floor as she waited in the lobby. Men took forever to get ready. While her attention was fixed on the stairs, a shadow fell across her.

“You return alone far too often,” Marylise hissed into her ear.

Ezmerelda craned her neck to stare at the heart-shaped face with its delicate nose and rosebud mouth. The dark blue eyes were devoid of warmth.

“I didn’t want him to come along,” Ezmerelda said as she struggled to keep her voice calm.

“Make sure he comes back in one piece or you will answer to me.”

She shivered as Marylise walked away. Ezmerelda was five years her senior, yet the younger woman made her uneasy. Moments later Roman sauntered down the stairs. He was half a head shorter than her and always wore two-tone long sleeved shirts in earthy colors. His breath smelled faintly of mint as he offered a quick apology and settled a leather pack on his back.

“Can you afford a horse?” she asked.

Roman shook his head.

Ezmerelda sighed. “Me either. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us. Don’t dawdle.” She pulled the heavy guild hall door open and looked over her shoulder. Marylise had her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes were firmly fixed on Ezmerelda. She shivered as the door closed behind her.

The first day passed easily. Begrudgingly, Ezmerelda admitted that Roman was a pleasant traveling companion. He didn’t try to fill silent moments with awkward conversation nor did he request rest breaks. With her long legs and considerable endurance, she had set an aggressive pace yet he maintained it without complaint. Before the sun set they found a clearing off the road and set up camp. Roman gathered firewood while she unpacked her bedding. After a brief supper both settled in for the night. A tugging of her hair roused her from sleep.

“Roman, I don’t know what you’re doing, but cut it out.”

“Huh?” His voice was thick and groggy.

The tugging intensified.

“I’m serious, knock it off.”

“What are you talking about? I’m trying to sleep,” he replied.

Ezmerelda pulled an arm out of her bedding and reached towards her head.

“Stop,” hissed Roman.

She cracked an eye and stared at him across the still smoldering fire. Both of his eyes were opened wide and filled with nervous excitement.

“It’s a Sykora.” His voice was heavy with awe. “I never thought I’d actually see one. They are perfectly benign unless they are startled. Just hold still and it should leave. It’s probably just looking for nesting material.”

“Nesting material? It’s in my hair. Do something.”

He shrugged. “It’s an animal. I’m not good with those.”

Something wet and rough caressed the side of her face. She sucked in her breath.

“No. No. No,” Roman pleaded as he waved both hands downwards.

Ezmerelda screamed. Startled birds fled their nests while leaves on nearby trees shook. The Sykora hissed loudly. Long blades of grass sprung up, wove themselves together, and swallowed Roman.

“Close your eyes and hold your breath,” he called from inside his green cocoon.

The tugging in her hair ceased while an odd tingling sensation spread across her. With her eyes and mouth squeezed shut she struggled to keep calm. Her heart hammered in her chest rattling her ribs with each beat. A seed of panic took root and sprouted as the seconds passed. Her lungs burned and ached for another breath. Every fiber of her body demanded she relent when she finally heard Roman declare them safe.

She gulped in air while he tossed two branches onto the campfire. As the new wood was consumed light spilled across the camp. She was ringed by broad-leafed ferns that had not been there when she had lain down. Her bedding disintegrated as she sat up. Small bits scattered in the soft breeze.

Ezmerelda noticed Roman’s eyes fix on her chest before he jerked them away. She glanced down. Her shirt had gone the way of her bedding and her cargo pants were tatters that concealed nothing. The only clothing on her left unscathed were her slinky black bra and panty set.

“It was laundry day. My good ones were dirty,” she said and blushed slightly at the lie. Contrary to her outward appearance, Ezmerelda had a soft spot for delicate undergarments. Punching a monster in the face while satin caressed her skin made her feel delightfully feminine. As best she could, she covered her body with her hands and bolted for her pack. As she scooped it up the leather crumbled away in her arms. Scraps of her spare clothes fell through her fingers and disappeared in the night air.

“I warned you not to scare it,” Roman said. “A Sykora’s breath attack is highly acidic.”

She spun on the smaller man and planted her hands on her hips. “So, you had me wait it out?”

“That acid cloud would have chewed away several layers of my skin or at worst killed me but you’re an enhancement wizard, so you’re tougher than most. That’s why, I had you hold your breath while I did all I could to disperse it.”

His eyes flicked down and Ezmerelda became aware that she had stepped into the fire light and given him a fine view of her panties.

With her teeth grinding against one another, she stalked away, and attempted to calm down. She squirmed around on the ground trying to find an acceptable spot. Rocks and uneven ground conspired to make her chronically uncomfortable. After an hour of frustration she swallowed her pride.

“Roman, I’m cold.”

A long sleeved shirt fluttered out of the darkness. She easily plucked it from the air, pulled it on, and stepped into the firelight. Roman moved to the side and lifted up a corner of his blankets. Ezmerelda slid in next to him

“You lay a hand on me and I’ll break it,” she growled.

Roman shrugged and rolled to put his back towards her. Firelight revealed a raised welt of scar tissue across his back. She traced it with a fingertip.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

The soft light of dawn teased Ezmerelda from her sleep. She growled and tugged the blanket over her head. She was warm, comfortable, and wanted to savor it for as long as possible.

“Ez, it’s time to get up.”

Ezmerelda growled once again and reluctantly opened her eyes. Her head was resting on Roman’s shoulder with her nose nestled in the crook of his neck. She felt his chest rise and fall underneath her right arm. In her sleep she had somehow draped a leg across his hips. The cloth of his trunks was soft against her inner thigh.

“Ez, my arm is asleep.”

She bolted up and gathered the blanket around her waist. “Don’t call me Ez,” she said as her face heated.

Shortly after she stirred, Roman handed her dried meat held between two thick slices of cheese sandwiched by dark, crusty bread. While he stirred water into the ashes of the fire, she sifted through the remains of her belongings. A hair brush and a cake of soap were all that could be saved from the items that had been in her pack.

“My coins are gone,” Ezmerelda called out as she combed through the grass by her ruined bedding.

“Huh. I think I’ve read that Sykoras are attracted to shiny objects. It probably made off with them. I don’t have much but we’ll have to make do.”

She plucked a chunk of bread off the ground, sniffed it, and with a sigh cast it aside. Even her rations had been destroyed by that troublesome creature. Her mood improved when she found that her beloved boots had survived the ordeal. They were worse for wear but still functional.

With the fire pit covered and the camp broken Ezmerelda pondered the day ahead. Roman’s shirt only came down to her waist. It wouldn’t suffice for travel and after casting a critical eye at his hips she doubted his pants would fit her at all. She voiced her concern. Roman grunted and gestured towards the ground. A dress of woven grass and leaves rested next to his bag. After rolling his eyes at her request, he turned his back while she removed the shirt, draped it over his head, and slipped on the dress.

It was a bit snug across her chest and hips, but it provided adequate coverage to spare her any further embarrassment. Ezmerelda did frown at the two daisy flowers that adorned the bodice. No matter how many times she tugged at the dress, the flowers settled over her nipples. With a sigh of frustration she gave up.

“Why didn’t you make me a shirt and pants?” she groused.

“I’m not a tailor,” he said as he stuffed his returned shirt into his pack. “Come here, I’ve got one more idea.”

She knelt on the ground next to him. During the morning he’d recovered the metal from her destroyed reinforced gloves. He set the two strips on the ground and gestured for her to hold her knuckles over them. Roman wiggled his fingers and grass rose like little, green marionette puppets and wrapped about her hands. Ezmerelda blinked in astonishment at her new gloves. She flexed and the weave of wide-bladed grasses moved with her comfortably.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Why couldn’t you do that with my dress?”

He rolled his eyes and started down the road. “By the way, don’t get those wet.”

As they traveled Ezmerelda got the distinct impression that Roman had become more comfortable with her. He casually pointed out items and animals of interest accompanied by a succinct explanation. From time to time he would stop to investigate a certain plant or tree but he never allowed himself to lag far behind. With the sun hanging low in the sky and both of them thoroughly covered in dust from the road, they decided to call it a day.

Ezmerelda snatched her soap and headed to the nearby river while Roman began to setup the camp. She floated in the water and enjoyed the coolness of the current sweeping over her. A clucking drew her attention to the bank. The heads of two stoats poked up from underneath her freshly washed delicates.

“Shoo! Get away from those!”

She swam hurriedly to the bank but by the time she arrived the weasels had disappeared into the underbrush with her clothes. Her heart pounded as she stumbled through the forest. Glimpses of movement and faint clucking egged her on. In hot pursuit of a bobbing, black tail she crashed through a large shrub and into a surprised Roman.

Firewood flew as she collided with her companion. He grunted as he hit the ground and grunted once more when she landed on top of him. Water dripped off the tip of her nose and onto his. Her wet hair ringed their faces as Roman gave her a questioning look.

“Weasels stole my clothes.”

She squirmed about uncertain what to do next. Being on top of him was undesirable but at least it concealed her state of undress. A spot on her left hip felt sticky. It was her turn to offer her traveling partner a questioning look.

“I found raspberries,” he said defensively.

Frantically she racked her brain to find a way to get out of her current position without Roman seeing her private bits. A notion popped into her head.

“Hold still,” she said as she tugged on his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

Ezmerelda yanked the shirt free of Roman’s pants.

“Look, I’ll close my eyes, you can get off of me, and then I’ll give you my shirt. I promise I won’t look.”

“I don’t trust you. Just let me do this.”

Ezmerelda held her body close to his as she pulled on the desired garment. To his credit, Roman did his best to lift his body as needed to allow his shirt to be removed. Freeing the sleeves from his arms required tugging and pulling to clear his shoulders and elbows making her conspicuously aware of her stiff nipples as they dragged across his bare chest. Little jolts of sensations rippled down her spine as her chest rubbed against his.

A hardness formed under her right thigh. When her eyes met Roman’s he blushed. He opened his mouth twice as if to explain, but his face darkened by several shades before he turned his head and looked away.

Pulling the shirt over her still wet body required more gyrations on her part. Despite her growing embarrassment the friction on her nipples sparked a tingling warmth below her navel. To prevent displaying herself she when she stood up Ezmerelda shimmied down Roman’s body to limit his field a vision. She couldn’t stifle a gasp as rough material of Roman’s pants rubbed between her legs.

Roman cleared his throat. He was breathing quickly and the skin of his upper chest was flushed.

“If we ever have to do this again, please let me give you my shirt,” he said.

Frustrated and embarrassed at the results of her plan, Ezmerelda made a point to graze her knee against his groin as she stood up.

“Are you OK?” she asked in her sweetest voice.

Bent over with his hands on his knees Roman swallowed hard and nodded.

The borrowed shirt clung to her damp body as the two scoured the area. After a thorough search of the nearby undergrowth they were able to only recover her gloves.

“The thieves must be in an underground den,” Roman said accompanied by a frustrated shake of his head. “Plants aren’t very aware at their roots. Trees are but we are strangers, so they aren’t talking. I’m sorry.”

During the second fruitless search, dark clouds filled the sky. Roman worked with two nearby trees and wove their overlapping branches together. The impromptu roof kept their bedding dry as the storm rolled past. The pitter-patter of rain drops sang a lullaby that coaxed her into a deep sleep.

A tickling of her ear roused Ezmerelda. She found her back pressed up against Roman. During the night her shirt had crawled upwards. Roman’s arm was draped over her and rested against the undersides of her breasts. What felt like a hard knot was pressed against her bottom. With a rush of embarrassment she realized she was pressing her hips backwards against Roman. Carefully, she tried to slip from his grasp without waking him so she could cover herself. Each time she moved Roman adjusted and held her tightly against him. With a groan of frustration she slammed her elbow into his ribs.

The blow caused his hand to slide upwards and cup her right breast. The callused palm rubbed over her nipple and caused her to gasp. A second elbow knocked the sleepiness from her teammate.

“Get up,” she growled.

Roman jerked his arm away and without a word busied himself with the morning chores. As she retrieved her brush from Roman’s pack she noticed brown pellets.

“What are these?” she asked as she held one between her fingers.

Roman sat with the morning sun shining on his face while he gulped water from his canteen.

“Seeds packed in nutrient rich soil. I have climbing vines, grasping vines, poison oak, and other utility plants.”

She sifted through the numerous pellets. “How do you know which is which?”

He shrugged. “I just know.”

After brushing her hair she donned her new dress. While not as snug as the previous one, a trail of yellow flowers on each side served to accentuate the curve of her hips. Blue flowers lined the hem and the square neckline which put a hint of cleavage on display. It was a touch shorter than Ezmerelda was comfortable with. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Roman grinning as she fiddled with her dress. She grew suspicious that the cut of her dress was his method of teasing her.

In the early afternoon they entered the village and found the home of their employer. The Sutters were an older, kind-looking couple. The wife offered a broad smile as she held the door open wide.

“Your guild told us you were coming, please come inside.”

Ezmerelda fidgeted in her seat as she struggled to keep the hem of her dress at a respectable place on her thighs.

“Livestock has gone missing. Everyone has been impacted and we are all worried,” said Mr. Sutter.

“Wolves or bears perhaps?” asked Roman.

Mr. Sutter shook his head. “We’ve not had that kind of trouble in generations.”

“What made you decide to contact a guild for help?” asked Ezmerelda. Her face heated slightly as Mr. Sutter turned his attention towards her. So much bare leg on display made her feel self-conscious.

“The animals go missing. Any normal predator would feed after a kill. Every animal has been dragged away with only a minimal amount of blood left at the scene.” He shook his head. “It’s all very odd.”

A young woman, introduced as the Sutter’s daughter Clara, presented a plate of cheese and fruit.

“Well, we’re here to put an end to this. I supposed these attacks happen at night?” Ezmerelda inquired.

The farmer nodded his head.

“OK. We’ll get some rest and setup outside. We’ll keep an eye out every night until we get to the bottom of this.”

Roman nodded emphatically. “Yes, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“I have a room prepared for the both of you,” Mrs. Sutter offered.

“Oh, we aren’t together. I’ll sleep in the cellar, if you have one?” The words spilled out of Roman in a rush before she had a chance to open her mouth.

“I’ve never met a wizard before. What type are you?” Clara asked. She blushed slightly while the toe of her right foot brushed back and forth across the wood floor.

“I’m a wizard flora,” Roman said. He fished a seed from his pocket and held in an open palm. The seed sprouted and bloomed into a pale blue Forget-me-Not. With a slight bow he tucked the flower into Clara’s hair.

“I’m an enhancement wizard,” offered Ezmerelda. “I use my magic to bolster my strength, speed, and stamina. For your furniture’s sake I’ll skip the demonstration.”

“Mr. Sutter chatted idly with Roman while Mrs. Sutter leaned next to Ezmerelda’s ear.

“Dear, do you usually dress this way?”

She cringed and fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “We encountered some trouble on the way here.”

“There is a nice dressmaker down the street. I’d be glad to show you.”

Ezmerelda gave a relieved smile and nodded her acceptance of the idea. On the way to the door she paused, chewed her lower lip, and gave Roman a pleading look. Without stopping his conversation he retrieved his wallet and tossed it to her. Mrs. Sutter arched an eyebrow and Ezmerelda blushed furiously.

The bell above the door rang merrily as the pair entered the shop. Mrs. Sutter had spoken true. Dresses of all styles and colors lined the walls. The seamstress blinked in confusion at Ezmerelda’s question.

“Miss, I don’t carry those. If you’d like trousers there is a tailor down the street.”

The warm hand of the tailor sliding up her inner thigh in an effort to obtain her inseam was all it took to convince her to quickly return to the dress shop. Two hours later the wizard and the wife departed. Ezmerelda grumbled under her breath. It was a good thing she’d be fighting in the dark. Any skirt that allowed enough freedom of movement to kick properly would result in her flashing her newly purchased underwear. She grumbled more when she considered that the only undergarments in her size were more risqué than she preferred.

After a delicious dinner with the Sutter family, Ezmerelda sat surrounded by tall grass in the field behind the farm house. Roman had walked the edge of the field talking to the plants. Originally the pampas grass that lined field had been about knee-high, as the young wizard passed it grew taller easily topping his head. With sweeping hand gestures and some muttered phrases Roman had created a small, comfortable clearing to be used as a hunting blind. Huddled together with a blanket draped over their shoulders they waited. She dearly wanted a small fire, but the chance of it being detected was just too great.

“Now it’s just a matter of patience,” she stated.

Roman nodded. “The plants should hide our scents and they will warn me if something draws near.”

She fixed him with a sidelong glance and settled into a comfortable position. The notion of communicating with plants was daft. Every few hours she had to stretch to prevent her arms and legs from going numb. The only thing that moved were the clouds as they slowly crept across the sky.

By the second night she as was sure she knew every star by its twinkle and the sound of every local nocturnal bird. Ezmerelda found herself grateful for the soft grass of the blind and the thick, warm blankets. At mid-morning both wizards slunk back to farmhouse in search of their beds.

During supper Ezmerelda struggled to hide concern while she watched Clara make puppy-dog eyes at Roman over plates of Sheppard’s pie. All light had left the sky when the teammates settled into the blind.

“I trust you won’t besmirch our guild’s name with your behavior?” she asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Clara. If you lead her on or so much as touch her, you’ll answer to me.”

He grunted. “I’m thankful the cellar can be barred from the inside.”

She arched an eyebrow and twirled a piece of grass around a finger.

“She has quick, aggressive hands and takes ‘no’ as an invitation. I swear her hands have been in my pockets more often than my own.”

Ezmerelda frowned at him and cracked her knuckles.

Roman tossed up his hands. “Don’t worry, if need be I’ll sleep in a tree. I have no intention of betraying our host’s trust.”

She nodded and slowly examined their surroundings. “This is getting tiresome,” she groused. “I need to punch something.”

“Patience,” he urged.

A gentle shake of her shoulder roused her. She lifted her head from Roman’s lap and rubbed at her eyes.

“Something is moving at the east edge,” he whispered.

Out of the tall grass stepped a beast. Long, coarse fur covered its body and moonlight glistened off of long fangs.

“Werewolf?” asked Roman.

“Whatever it is, I’m going to stop it.”

Ezmerelda bolted from hiding and sprinted towards the monster. An object arced over her head and landed at her target’s feet. Vines sprung up and wound themselves around the thick, shaggy legs. It growled in confusion and tugged at its bindings. Her flying tackle took it squarely in the chest and despite the vines bowled it over backwards.

She straddled its waist, swept her elbow above her shoulder, and drove it down into the creature’s jaw. Three quick blows dazed it. She gripped its bottom jaw and with her other hand cupped the back of its head. Long, yellow claws racked at her neck but failed to find purchase. Ezmerelda twisted with all her might until she heard a sharp snap.

Roman ran up behind her puffing. “Yellow huh?”

Ezmerelda blushed furiously. She hopped to her feet and poked a finger into Roman’s chest.

“Stop looking at my underwear.”

“Shop showing them.”

Ezmerelda squatted down and nudged at a shaggy foot with her index finger. The wizards stared on dumbfounded as hair receded, claws shrunk, and the muzzle shortened. Both blinked as they found themselves looking at the body of a man.

He appeared to be middle-aged with a smattering of gray hair at his temples. With symmetrical features, high cheekbones, and a cleft chin he would have been attractive if life still burned in the hazel eyes. His body was lean yet nicely muscled and firm underneath her touch. Ezmerelda’s gaze drifted across his chest, down his stomach, and lingered below his waist. She felt her eyebrows climb upwards. The man had been attractive and gifted. The sound of Roman moving snapped her back to reality as her face burned with embarrassment.

“Well, looks like this was a quick one,” she said as she wiped her hands against each other. Ezmerelda craned her neck and looked over her shoulder when she didn’t receive a response.

Roman had turned to face the field and was counting under his breath.

“Ezy, how many yaks are there supposed to be?”

“Twenty. Don’t call me Ezy. Why?”

“I see nineteen.”

A perimeter search revealed a swath of trampled grass. Drag marks were visible in the soft earth.

“I thought the plants would warn you?”

Roman blushed slightly and looked away. “I was distracted.”

Ezmerelda took the lead as the pair followed the track to a set of low hills. Underneath the boughs of a gnarled willow they found an entrance to a cave. Inside Roman caught her attention and pointed down. The stone floor had been worn smooth with use.

“Is this a werewolf thing?” asked Roman as he examined one of the torches attached to the wall. If emitted neither heat nor smoke as it burned silently.

“Nope,” she replied as she shook her head.

Partially crouched and moving cautiously they crept deeper inside. A rapid staccato sound coming from the tunnel to her left caused Ezmerelda to hop backwards and pull a startled Roman with her.

A white, furry creature careened through the previously occupied space and crashed into the far wall. With the toe of her boot she rolled the unconscious creature over. It was man shaped except with horns curving out from behind its ears, square yellowed teeth in its broad muzzle, and cloven hooves instead of feet.

“A goat?” Ezmerelda wondered as Roman dropped a seed pellet onto its chest.

Vines enclosed the beast as they ventured onward. A roughly hewn descending tunnel led to a large square chamber. Wolf-men, bear-men, and hideous looking pig-men occupied rows of cells that lined three walls. Revulsion welled up in Ezmerelda.

“Someone is experimentally combining humans and animals,” she said as a shiver of revulsion rippled through her body.

The size of the complex exceeded the veteran wizard’s imagination. After hours of exploring the two wizards stumbled into large room ringed with torches. A short, light haired man wearing a sand colored robe was seated in the center.

Ezmerelda gestured to Roman. He nodded his understanding as the two wizards crept into flanking positions.

“Well, well, it appears I have guests,” muttered the man.

“Are you responsible for the creatures in these caves?” asked Ezmerelda.

“I am,” the man replied as he placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet.

“We are here to stop you,” Ezmerelda announced as she glanced at Roman. His right arm was cocked and three of his seed pellets were wedged between his fingers. He gave a solemn nod. She gave a cry and charged her target.

“I think not,” said the strange wizard as he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Ezmerelda grunted. She was unable to move her arm and legs.

“What have you done?” asked Roman.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye. He appeared to be frozen in place as well.

“Gnuble, the human wizard, at your service,” her captor said with a flourish of his robe.

Ezmerelda arched an eyebrow. “Well, of course you are.”

“No, no, you silly thing,” he said as he waved his hand. “My magic’s focus is people. The human body and mind per se.”

Ezmerelda swallowed hard.

“You two little things have wandered where you don’t belong.”

Gnuble moved in front of Roman and pressed his right pointer finger against the captive wizard’s forehead. Roman gasped as the finger slid in to his flesh up to the first joint.

“You are guild members, yes? Oh, both from Ascend I see. How cute, you are in love.” He frowned at Ezmerelda and pursed his lips. “No, no, not with this one. The feeling is too distant. It’s a shame really. You are so young and still innocent. So very innocent.” With a sigh he withdrew the invading digit from Roman and absently wiped it on his robe.

“Look at you. A tomboy stuffed into a dress,” he said as he stood in front of Ezmerelda. His finger sank into her chest just above her right collar bone.

She gasped at the feeling of invasion.

“A woman enhancement wizard? How droll,” he said as he clucked his tongue. “Well my dear you aren’t elegant, so why should I expect your magic to be.”

Every fiber of her being cried out its desire to punch the man but she remained locked in a state of inaction.

“You have quite a potential as well. A shadow compared to me but much more than the weed over there.”

“Now, now, what to do with you?” he asked. His eyes rolled upwards as his forefinger rested against his chin. “Oh yes, yes, I have just the thing.” With a short jerk he pulled the top two buttons off of Ezmerelda’s dress. He dipped a finger into a container on his belt and drew a symbol on her chest in light oil.

Gnuble leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “Succubus.”

He tapped the finger against her and the oil heated. She felt it absorb into her skin then slowly seep inwards.

“My dear, you will be the undoing of your friend here. You’ll bear that guilt the rest of your life while you bear some of my monster’s offspring.”

The heat settled at her core. Sweat beaded on her forehead and each breath stabbed at her lungs as if it were the depth of winter. The heat solidified and radiated outwards melting and reforming her as it progressed. When the liquid fire reached the base of her neck a scream was torn from her throat.

“Ezy! Ezy! Are you OK?”

The words teased her from the darkness. She was in a roughly hewn alcove with bars across the only opening. Underneath the damp earthy smell of the cell, she could detect a subtle scent. She moved her head and sniffed until she determined the scent originated from the far corner where Roman was huddled. It reminded her of freshly baked bread. Roman smelled like food.

She crawled towards him. Her voice took on a crooning quality. The sound filled the small space. Ezmerelda altered the pitched until she sensed it resonating with Roman. There was a sweetness inside of him. A sweetness she desired like nothing else. She knew she was faster and stronger than him. He was hers to take as she desired.

“No, Ezy. Please,” he pleaded.

It only served to excite her more. Roman’s back was pressed into the corner. His feet slipped against the floor as he feebly tried to push further away. Deprived of the seed pellets from his pack Roman frantically threw seeds from his pockets that harmlessly bounced off her and skittered away in the darkness. Merrigolds, pufftops, and hackberries sprouted and bloomed in her wake. A vine from a strawberry managed to grasp her ankle but a small jerk of her leg broke it easily.

Ezmerelda crawled between his still moving legs and settled her mouth over his. She pressed her body against him. Her tongue slipped past his lips and into his mouth. Roman’s resistance crumbled. He tasted even better than he smelled. As the kiss lengthened an urgent excitement grew within her. It required no effort to tear his shirt free from his body. Her fingertips traced the lines on his chest, savoring the feel of him.

“Remove them,” she growled as her fingers brushed against his trousers. He fumbled with his belt as he scrambled frantically to fulfill her order. He seemed such a small thing, yet the power she possessed over him was intoxicating. As he kicked the last of his clothing away, she swung her knee over his body and straddled his upper thighs. Her hand sought him out and found him to be hard and warm to the touch.

Ezmerelda resuming her crooning and felt his pulse throb beneath her tight grip. He returned her smile as she moved up and settled onto him. Both gasped at the penetration. She wriggled her hips until he was fully seated inside her.

Her lips touched his as her hips slowly moved up and down. Inside of him was a pool of energy. It was the sweetness she had sensed earlier. In her mind’s eye it was dark green and glowed faintly.

With each push of her hips that energy was pulled from Roman and drawn into her. It formed a tight ball behind her navel. With exquisite slowness she ground her hips against his in a controlled circular motion. Each sip of energy drawn from him gave her pleasure. Goose pimples rose across her skin as she pushed herself down until Roman fully filled her. She shuddered as more energy flowed between them.

“Roman, give yourself to me. Let go,” she cooed as her body ground against him. A moan issued from deep in his throat. Ezmerelda felt his member twitch inside her then energy poured from him. Small explosions of light burst in her vision. Her fingernails sank into Roman’s shoulders as she rode the feeling to its conclusion.

His head lolled to the side as his breathing took on a shallow, weak rhythm. Ezmerelda slid off and stumbled towards the front of the cell. Her head rested against the bars as she struggled for breath. As the perspiration on her skin cooled a gnawing hunger awoke inside her. While considering her next course of action, she caught the tantalizing scent of food.

Another wizard was nearby and he was powerful. The ball of energy in her middle began to unwind and spread throughout her. She pulled a glove off her left hand, wiped it across her still damp forehead, and stuffed it between the lock and the cell wall. Ezmerelda touched the newly captured energy swirling inside her and directed it down her arm and into the glove. Roots crept from the garment and seated themselves deeply in the stone wall.

An open hand blow bent the lock’s bolt and furthered the cracking of the wall. A second blow broke the lock free in a hail of stone chips. Rusty hinges screamed in protest as the door swung open. Ezmerelda sniffed the air of the tunnel until she located the direction of her prey. With a squeal of glee she bounded down the hallway. A red wooden door stood in stark contrast to the roughly hewn rock walls. The scent of her prey wafted from behind it. With casual ease, she snapped the handle from the door and kicked it inwards. Gnuble sprung up from his polished bone desk.

“Finished off your friend already? I’ll give you credit for escaping but it’s no matter. No matter at all.”

He began to chant and formed a sign with his fingers. A flick of Ezmerelda’s wrist sent the fragment of the ruined door spinning through the air at the blonde wizard. Gnuble screamed and stared aghast at his ruined hands. Ezmerelda covered the distance between them in a blink of an eye and slammed him against the wall. A short swing of her elbow broke his jaw and reduced his protests to pained groans.

Her voice roamed through pitches as she swept Gnuble to the floor. His frantic squirming ceased as her voice resonated with him. She tore the flaxen robe from his body and roughly pressed her lips to his.

His pool of energy was immense. The anticipation of devouring so much made her lightheaded. Her mouth slid over his erect manhood and sucked wantonly. She sipped at his magic as if through a drinking straw. No matter how quickly she bobbed her head or used her tongue, the volume she extracted from him wasn’t enough.

Ezmerelda’s need was all consuming as she abandoned her initial approach and mounted Gnuble. She drank deeply as he pushed deeper inside her. Short, hard thrusts sent tremors through her legs. His power was vast and satisfying, yet devouring Roman’s had been more gratifying.

She cooed her song and felt the pace of her consumption increase. Ezmerelda gripped him with her inner walls and coaxed more magic from him as the rhythm of her thrusts increased. The energy was golden and densely packed. It made her skin tingle and feel tight.

Pleasure rippled from the soles of her feet to the top of her head. All that mattered was the feeding. Gnuble groaned as the last of his resistance crumbled. The pace of the energy flow increased. She devoured it greedily and strove to consume it all. Golden light filled her vision as she screamed in ecstasy.

Ezmerelda lay naked atop an isolated hill outside of the small farming village. A green woven-grass dress was draped over a nearby rock. The body of Gnuble had been handed over to the proper authorities along with a trunk full of gold coins, of which she had received a finder’s fee. While the restored former beast men were granted amnesty concerning the lost livestock and returned to their families.

The farmers, thankful to be free of creatures raiding their herds, declared the job completed satisfactorily and paid the promised commission. Ezmerelda absentmindedly jingled her heavy purse. Sunlight kissed her skin in a way that sent sexual pleasure rippling through her.

“Do you always feel this way?” she asked.

“That’s why I wear long sleeves,” replied Roman.

He was splayed on the ground, sans shirt, angled so that he couldn’t see her. A gnarled wooden cane was nestled in the grass next to him. His bare toes were closest to her and wriggled in the warm sun. A tiny spark of dark, green energy flickered inside him.

Since she had absorbed his magic, water tasted exquisite and she felt connected to every growing thing around her. Trees whispered greetings when she passed beneath them, flowers complained to her about nibbling insects, and weeds quietly sulked in the shadows. She resolved to seduce him again once more of his magic had been restored. She wanted to hold onto the pleasurable sensation sunlight offered for as long as possible.

Ezmerelda lazily wondered if her seductive powers worked on women. Cute little Cenna could talk to animals. Corr, the mouse of the guild, controlled fire strong enough to melt stone. Risi, with her adorable button nose, used her magic to teleport. The possibilities made her giddy. An image of Marylise popped into her mind. The idea of melting that haughty ice queen caused her to rub her thighs together. She tickled the bottom of Roman’s food with her fingers.

“This is fun. I know exactly what it’s like to be you.”

Roman grunted. “You should. You took enough of my magic.”

“Our magic is synonymous with our life force right?”

“Right,” he replied cautiously.

“Some people consider that force an extension of our souls.”

“I guess so,” he conceded.

“Since I sucked out most of your magic and have it inside of me now, doesn’t that make us soul mates?”

“No. No, it does not.”

She laughed at the exasperation in his voice. Ezmerelda lifted her foot skyward and wiggled her toes while her nose wrinkled in displeasure. It was a dainty thing. New boots would be needed. Her trustworthy pair that had served her so well for so long no longer fit. Quite a bit of practice would be required to get a firm grasp on her new effective kicking range.

As her leg moved she watched the play of muscles beneath her new flawless skin. The definition she had earned through hard work and dedication was gone. Long, lean muscles had replaced her shorter, bulky ones. It looked as if she were carved from alabaster or pale marble, an artist’s vision of a courtesan meant for a life of lounging on silk pillows, not roaming the earth fighting monsters. Thankfully her strength and flexibility had not been diminished.

Ezmerleda cast her eyes downward. Her new hips were wider and more rounded. Her center of gravity was lower and it was impossible to walk without a sway. She had caught Roman watching her walk several times. He had blushed profusely the first time but resumed only moments later. She poked at her full breast and sighed as she idly watched it wobble.

“When do you think my body will return to normal? I look like something from a teenage boy’s dream.”

“I’m not sure. The succubus spell should have been broken once you killed Gnuble. But like mine, his magic still lingers inside you, so I think that is still fueling part of the spell. We’ll need to do some research once we return to the guild. I bet Timander will have an answer.”

Ezmerelda sighed. “Yeah and he’ll have a ton of questions.”

Roman groaned. “I doubt I’ll be spared from those. In the future, you can have job posts all to yourself.”

“I think we made a good team. You’re level-headed and your magic is useful. Plus, you are delicious.”

Roman shivered despite the warm sunlight.

“May I apologize for almost killing you?” she asked.

“It wasn’t your fault. There’s no need.”

“As soul mates I don’t want this standing between us.”

Roman groaned. “Please stop saying that.”

She craned her neck and watched his chest fall as he sighed deeply.

“OK.” His toes curled as he shrugged his consent.

Ezmerelda found it adorable. “I want to remove the scar on your back. May I?”

Silence stretched as geese gracefully glided overhead.

“Go ahead,” his voice sounded distant and guarded.

“May I ask what it is?”

“The cost of a poor choice.”

Ezmerelda wetted her index finger in her mouth then extended it towards him. With quick, jerky movements she drew a figure on the sole of his foot.

“Remedy,” she said as she directed the golden energy within her down her arm and into the saliva drawing.

Roman gasped and arched his back as the magic activated. He rolled onto his side and twisted an arm behind his back. Probing fingers found smooth unblemished skin.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

Ezmerelda suppressed a snicker. Her spell had a couple of surprises in store for her guildmate. She had always liked a healthy backside on her men. Roman’s was nice but a touch on the small side. Over the next few weeks he would find himself with a pronounced, robust one. He would also grow two heads taller. Marylise would have to stand on her toes to kiss him.

She sang a low keening note. Immediately she felt it resonate with Roman.

“Stop it,” he growled as he tugged at the front of his pants.

Ezmerelda laughed as she tickled the bottom of his foot. “So, you and Marylise huh?”

Roman bolted upright and fixed her with surprised eyes. Nail marks were still visible on his chest. He blushed and dropped back to the grass.

“We can’t tell her, OK?” he pleaded.

“Why not? I think it will bring us closer together. I can tell her what you like…”

Roman made choking sounds, stiffened, and then grumbled under his breath. He fidgeted as the silence grew.

Ezmerelda touched the golden magic once again and pushed her finger into the bottom of his foot. She gasped as his entire being unraveled before her.

“Oh, I was your first.” She burst out laughing and clapped her hands. A spell from a mad wizard had made the guild so much more fun.