Alexis and Sonja Ch. 01

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The Sorceresses' Duel.
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Author's note:

This is an idea for a world. There are two vignettes here featuring the central character - one FM and one FF, with two different versions of non-consent - a pure mind control and a body control. The "Duel" refers to the second vignette.

I have sketched out the world and implicitly introduced the basic concepts for how magic can work. Any feedback on that setup would be appreciated.

There is detailed sex here, but it is not written to be hardcore - it's written to tell a couple of stories.

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Chapter 1: Alexis - Underworld espionage.

There was nothing in the stance or dress of the figure lounging against the solid stone wall of the inner keep, where it formed the edge of the market square, to indicate occupation or even gender. All a casual observer could see was a travel-stained and weather-hardened human of average height, with a sturdy and unremarkable walking staff, which undoubtedly served well as a weapon when called upon, clasped in lean fingers and leaned casually against one shoulder where it could be called into action at a second's notice.

Indeed, disinterested observers hurried past with the automatic extra room given to warriors and the professionally jumpy - it always paid to err on the side of caution - while casual observers calculated the likelihood of violence - small, conversation - slim, and custom - rare - and moved their attention elsewhere.

Interested observers - into which category fell the city guards and various small-time crooks and scoundrels, but also the occasional trull or peddler of illicit substances - gave the figure a more searching glance and variously marked it down as worth keeping an eye on, not worth the trouble, or one to watch.

When the market had settled into the first big session of the day, when the stalls were established and the pre-breakfast buyers had started to overlap with the serious customers but before the near-desert heat had clamped down and driven all but the professionally motivated indoors to the baths or a siesta, the figure had appeared, purchased a small bag of the thick-skinned but extremely tasty dragon-fruit which grew on the edge of the city's territory on the edge of the deserts to the north-east, using a minimum of words spoken in an unremarkable and quickly forgotten voice, leaned itself against the wall and, using a simple but obviously razor-sharp knife of desert pattern, began to eat it's way through the fruit.

They had been finished, and washed down with water from a canteen which had appeared from underneath the cape, been used and spirited away again, by the time the market had reached the point of being actively crowded and the first pick-pocket of the day had been caught by the ever-present guards.

Then there seemed nothing better for the figure to do except wait, which it did with preternatural patience and lizard-like immobility until suddenly a silk merchant, who had been keeping half a professionally cautious eye towards that section of wall, found only wall and, after a rapid but comprehensive scan of the immediate environs failed to locate it, raised one eyebrow and went back to extolling the virtues of his new batch of fine scarlet cloth to the sceptical wife of one of the city's minor nobles.

The weather-hardened figure was already halfway across the square, moving with ease through the crowd with no obvious intent, but with sufficient air of purpose that only the most committed of merchants attempted to sell it anything.

On the other side, where the square was bordered by private residences, mostly merchant's status-grabbing demi-palaces, the figure slipped into one of the smaller, less arterial, roadways and from there into the looming shade of the city's tortuously labyrinthine alleys.

An interested cut-throat, who specialised in unaffiliated rogues and who had seen the expensive dragon-fruit, had bafflingly and unprecedentedly lost his quarry within three turnings. Two other footpads, who were chancing their luck in the daylight while the market kept the alleys relatively empty, had to change their minds when one put his foot down badly and sprained his ankle and the other was caught by a sudden and humiliating attack of the runs.

The figure's rapid progress had covered nearly a quarter of the city when it came to the end of one grimy little alleyway as it ran into a major thoroughfare, and was just in time - a small smile of satisfaction tweaked the figure's lips - to see a stockily built man climb the outside steps of a tavern and pass around the side out of sight.

With a suddenly lighter and more feminine step, the figure followed him.

Confident that he had not been followed from his unsavoury meeting in the square, Isaac was not paying his usual care to his surroundings as he fished his key out of the inside pocket of his jerkin and opened the door to his room. So when he heard a thrillingly breathless and young female voice say "Isaac?" he was, for a moment, disconcerted.

Only the fact that his subconscious had noted a light booted footfall a fraction of a second earlier, saved him from an embarrassing, startled, reaction.

He looked up to growl "Who wants to know?", when he caught sight of her, and changed his mind about his tone of voice.

She was slightly shorter than him - about right, he thought approvingly - and her face, with it's youthful looks, slightly wide eyes and inviting lips, all framed by wisps of dirty blond hair, made his pulse instantly quicken. Then her weather-stained cloak fell open to reveal a sumptuously nubile body dressed in tavern wench clothes, with firm breasts pushed upwards and together by a laced bodice that barely managed to contain them at all, and his last trace of wariness disappeared as blood left his brain in favour of the manhood pushing hungrily against his trousers.

"That's me," he said with a swagger in his voice as he leered brazenly at her milky, bulging cleavage. "And who is asking?"

"My name's Alexis," she said in that breathy voice which was making him giddy as, with a final twist, she undid the last of the cloak's fastening about her neck, letting fall a pendant which bore the only absolute guarantee of safety in this city's underworld, the seal of the Robber King Roberts, "And I'm a messenger."

For a brief moment, Isaac nearly panicked as he wondered if he had committed some fatal indiscretion, but then he reminded himself that the Robber King Roberts used trulls as messengers regularly, but hardly to deliver bad news, and his manhood returned to its briefly interrupted upwards journey.

"Well," he said as he threw open the door to his room and threw what he intended to be a courtly bow, "You had best come in, then."

Once inside, she discarded her cloak and, as her pale arms were bared, only the looming, albeit absent, presence of the underworld's unforgiving ruler prevented him from making an advance on her right then.

He offered her a mug of water instead - traditional hospitality in this near-desert city - and kept the swagger in his voice as he asked "What's the message?"

Then he nearly choked on his own mug as she turned around and said, with a smile which went straight to his groin, "Me."

"The Robber King Roberts," she continued as she began to unlace her bodice and he stood rooted to the spot, staring dumbly, "Was very pleased with the way you handled your duties last night and the transaction this morning, and sent me as a reward."

He tried to speak, to say that he hadn't realised that such rewards were ever awarded, but she pushed her bodice off her shoulders and to the floor, and his voice froze in his throat.

Her breasts, which had looked magnificent in the bodice, were incredible out of it, and hung heavy and ripe but firm and proud upon her chest, capped by fat nipples with wide pink halos around them.

"Jabber," was all he could say, hoarsely, invoking the city's god of all eventualities, as she then pushed her skirt off her hips, revealing herself to be not only without undergarments, but to be one of the small, and very expensive, group of trulls who plucked themselves clean of hair.

She stepped forwards, still with the same sweet smile, took the goblet from his nerveless fingers and, after peeling his jerkin over his head, gave him a sudden push that left him sprawled on the bed behind him.

It was the work of moments for her to divest him of his boots, trousers and under-trousers and leave him sprawled naked with his fat, heavy cock lying engorged upon his belly.

She cooed at it in delight and bent her head while pale, slender fingers raised it vertical and red-stained lips parted to take it in.

The street-cunning part of his mind, which had seen him survive and worm his way into that last job in the absence of native intelligence, found itself suddenly free to think, and wondered dazedly how much such a ripe, plucked girl untouched by the sun could possibly be worth and how it was possible that a simple extortion and payment job could earn this reward anyway, and besides, why wasn't he taking the upper hand here? But then her lips folded over his cock and, with a groan, he forgot all about such petty concerns.

She skillfully worked upon him until he could get no harder and was lying on the bed groaning weakly, before pulling off him with a guilty-bashful giggle and sliding up towards his head, with a cat-like crawl and her knees spread across his broad torso, until she could sit on his belly and, leaning forward, feed him her nipples, one at a time.

His hands automatically came up to wrap around her buttocks as he obediently and greedily suckled upon her stiffening nipples, making sighs of delight roll over her plump lips.

"You must be so brave, to call in a debt like that just to prove yourself," she said simperingly between moans of pleasure. Somehow, he didn't wonder why this trull should know so much about what his job had been.

"Did you hurt him much?" she continued before Isaac, with his mouth full, could reply, then gently pulled her rock-hard and glistening wet nipple from his mouth.

"I'm braver than that," he collected the breath to boast, "And yeah, I had to teach him a lesson."

"Ooh," she purred, "With these hands?" she wriggled her buttocks in his grasp, making his hands clench on her soft flesh and eliciting another spark of desire in his eyes.

"Yeah," he said boastfully, beginning to feel more confident, in control, "I had to beat him up a bit, teach him a lesson, you know what I mean?"

"I bet you could teach a lot of lessons." She raised herself up, and took his saliva-slick cock in one hand, pulling the tip up towards her puffy-lipped quim. "You might even be able to teach me some."

She lowered herself onto him, slowly, his fat, purple head separating her juice-slick lips and spreading her walls wide as she slid down until she reached his belly, his cock bottoming out deep inside her.

He barely even heard her, arching his back at the unbearable sensations coursing through him as she swallowed him whole, but a spark of pride awoke within him from this flattery.

She began to move above him, her torso twisting to roll her pendulous breasts in front of his hungry eyes. "Who was your contact?" she asked him in her breathy whisper. "Before today?"

Eager to please her, to prove that he could teach her something, he gasped "Nattick, the tailor. I got all my orders through him."

Suddenly he wondered why she wanted to know, and why he had told her, and started up, beginning to say "Here..."

Nimble as a cat, she bent down and ran her tongue delicately around one puckered nipple, and with a strangled groan he collapsed back onto the bed and forgot his worries.

"Nattick?" she repeated in an interested tone as her hips rolled about him. "He's new, I may have to pay him a little visit." She drew her fingernails slowly down his chest, raking just teasingly past his nipples, and whispered in his ear, between licks of her nimble tongue, "What is your next job? I know that you got more instructions from that adorable man you met in the market today."

"I have to deliver a message," he said between gasps, no longer able to even think of not giving her exactly what she wanted, "To the merchant Tippil. He's been resisting protection efforts and has to be warned off going to those outsider scum."

"Outsiders?" she whispered as her mouth slid around his throat from ear to far. "Which ones?"

"Slavers," he was barely able to gasp out. "From the deep desert. King Roberts won't have any of them in his city, but they're trying to push in."

"Oh you naughty man," she breathed at him with a thrill in her voice, as her slick tunnel did incredible things to the shaft that felt so hard. "I wasn't expecting foot-soldiers like you to be so well informed at this stage. When will this message be delivered?"

"Tomorrow morning," he moaned raggedly, on the edge of cumming. "As he takes a shortcut through the back streets from his home to his warehouse."

"Good little puppet," she said in a suddenly business-like voice. "You may cum, now."

And, just like that, he did.

After he had spent his seed, Alexis stepped off him, pulled her dark green men's shirt and tanned leather pants over her slim olive skin, flicked her long rich-red hair out of her face, placed her lean, tanned fingers on either side of his head, and said in a commanding voice to his suddenly glassy face, "You will forget me. You will think only that you had fallen asleep because the day was so hot, and you will carry out your instructions to the letter."

Then, after removing her hands, added "And be thankful that I needed you still useful, and couldn't afford to just order you to tell me what I needed to know."

She threw her cloak over her road-coloured shirt and pants, pulled the hood over her dusty black hair, and departed.

#

chapter 2: Alexis - Sorceresses' Duel

Alexis was settling into her table in a corner of the tavern, with a jug of honey-infused ale in front of her, a warm, satisfied glow of a job done well inside her and a healthy reward for information provided to the city guards behind her, and no known adversaries or problems anywhere around her, when the door opened to admit her most bitter rival.

It would in all honesty be wrong to call Sonja a rival - the only two female magi within the five cities area kept too much out of each other's way to be enemies or even rivals in any way, even for paying work. But that fact did not prevent Alexis' almost instinctive spasm of magic into her hand, and only the exercise of iron self-control and fast reactions prevented the tankard, and the ale within it, being consumed by fire.

She followed Sonja's progress to the bar with eyes filled with a cold and deeply withering loathing. Two female magi, despite the assumption that they should bond together in sisterly affection, were more likely to view each other with undisguised hatred born of competitiveness.

In the case of Sonja and Alexis, their enmity was also born of Alexis having chosen to back an opponent to Sonja's long-term employer in the short but bitter war of Verani River, and Sonja choosing to participate in activities both personal and professional that Alexis found obnoxious and vile.

Alexis' state of mind could be guessed at when Sonja, mug in hand, turned and, without having to scan the crowd, walked straight to Alexis' table.

She sat down without asking and said "Hello, Alexis."

Alexis just glared at her.

Sonja sighed. "Oh, don't be like that, my dear. I haven't come to argue, I'm trying to be friendly."

"I don't think I know an insult adequate to that," Alexis replied in her hardest voice.

Sonja sighed, and took a sip of her ale. "You're being a fool, Alexis. I'm here in the spirit of truce because I have a warning for you, and you would be wise to listen to me."

"What do your loathsome employers have planned for this town?" Alexis asked angrily.

Sonja responded with a dismissive wave of her hand, carefully not in Alexis' direction. "Oh, I no longer work for them. No, I left them after they ceased to keep me interested. You need have no worries on that account, they're still no closer to here than they were this time last year."

"Which is thanks to me," Alexis said pointedly.

"Oh dear, my dear, do you really think that I would bear a grudge over that? We both got paid, and between us we preserved the status quo. What else are magi for, but to preserve balance in the world? No, I'm talking about something much different."

Keeping her hands carefully in view, she leaned suddenly across the table and hissed at Alexis "There is about to be a lot of slaver activity in this town. They've been seeding dissent and illness for a year now, and are about to move in. I don't care about my sisters or about you, but we cannot afford a magus in the hands of those bastards! Get out!"

Alexis narrowed her eyes, cataloguing but choosing not, just yet, to act upon the information that Sonja had been deceived by the misinformation that, prompted by her own carefully crafted misinformation, the Robber King Roberts had slipped out of the city. "And you, are you going to take easy pickings from the edges? I'm not going to get out, I'm going to stay and see how much trouble I can make for them!"

Sonja groaned. "I was afraid you would say that. Look, Alexis, this situation is out of your league, or mine..."

Alexis nearly erupted. "How dare you! I..."

Sonja made her move as she reached for the mug of ale, transforming the motion into a command gesture as she threw Paralysis across the table. Alexis deflected that with an even quicker gesture and, with her other hand, retaliated with Bind Limbs.

This met an Absorb Power shield and was returned with interest as Consume Speech, but Alexis was already wearing a charm against spells of sapping ability and ignored it, sending a small fireball as a distraction with one hand and Take Breath with the other. Sonja deflected Take Breath - accidentally killing a serving maid - let the fireball bounce off her sealed coat onto the stone floor and tried to slide Pain under the table (which was stopped by a quick self-cast of Ignore Sensation) while sending Muddle Mind straight at Alexis' eyes.

Alexis ducked and sent two bursts of Freeze Limbs, one from each hand and spread wide, only to realise too late that Sonja still had her hand under the table and had taken a hit on that arm, but only after loosing Control Slattern at Alexis' womb.

"Oh shit!" was all she could say after that as sexual ecstasy exploded in her belly and her limbs sagged as the magic left her, toppling slowly forwards onto the table momentarily helpless while Sonja, after grimacing in pain and undoing the Freeze Limb on her right arm, leaned forward, placed her fingertips in a possessively loving manner on Alexis' temples and cast Bind Wench at point-blank range.

Alexis felt her self, her mind, hurled backwards out of the driving seat of her body. She desperately scrabbled for control, but her own senses, limbs, even her voice was locked off to her, leaving her an impotent prisoner in her own head, receiving her senses second-hand.

After that, there was nothing that Alexis could do except rage futilely as her body obediently got up, paid for their drinks and a substantial recompense for the dead maid - which put paid to her reward money - and walked out after her new mistress with her womanhood throbbing in undying pleasure but her limbs as precisely accurate as any weak-willed, mind-bound bitch.

Sonja didn't even bother hiding their destination from her, and then ordered her to strip naked as soon as they had climbed the stairs, passed through Sonja's intricate wards and the door was shut behind them.

Alexis stood before her, naked but fuming impotently inside a mind too befuddled with the churning, insistent throb of heat in her cunt to recognise shame or embarrassment as Sonja lounged on the bed and let her gaze roam over Alexis' hardened but still feminine body as it was warmed and lighted by a small fire in the grate.

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