Bardic Music

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A pair of ladies find a bard's song a bit too entrancing.
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The small audience assembled in the chamber -- scarcely a dozen ladies and gentlemen -- had fallen silent. Before them, a single musician gently pulled his bow across a brick of rosin. Looking at him, one could scarcely believe that he spent his every moment in the company of nobility and the well-to-do. He was thin and wiry with a perpetually disheveled appearance. Thick, wild hair and a thin patch of scruff surrounded a gaunt face. Even in clothes that cost a year's salary for a common man, he could not shake the appearance of having been freshly dragged off the street.

Perhaps that is what drove him to perfect his skill. What else but music could elevate a man of low birth and standing to such a place? His list of clients included kings and bishops and his wait list may as well be a directory of the rich and powerful. Few these days took the title of bard and even fewer deserved it. For Franz Heinkel, however, it barely seemed adequate.

It was this reputation that elevated him to sit with the social elite and drew his audiences. It was also what brought two young ladies, Mary and Sophia to sit at their first performance. Born as cousins and raised as sisters, they attended court together in the home of their aunt, the Lady Aceline. Mary bore the countenance of her aunt. From her porcelain skin to sharp brunette hair, her every feature spoke to her French heritage. Her womanly curves were yet to fully fill in, giving her a dainty appearance. What she lacked in curves she made up in presentation, her every step, word, and motion a testament to her future as a lady of good fortune. Sophia, on the other hand, was cut from an entirely different block. She had her mother's hair: a long mane of untamable crimson that hung over lightly freckled skin. She had grown quickly, easily filling in her dress years ago. Her breasts stood on prominent display, accentuated by the tight cut of her bodice and hidden support offered by the bust of her dress.

The pair sat side-by-side in rapt attention. Accounts, myths, and outright fabrications of the bard's skill abounded in equal measure -- a reputation great enough to hold even the interest of teenage women. They were no stranger to his list of accolades, from having cured the sick to staying the hand of a war-bent parliament, all with naught but his violin. How much truth lay within these accounts was anyone's guess, though none have ever claimed to be disappointed after his performance.

A single, sharp motion brought the instrument to his cheek and bow to rest upon the strings. In an instant, the lanky and awkward-looking man disappeared. In his place stood a performer, born of equal parts skill and confidence. The sudden transformation often took audiences by surprise and created the opening he needed. The collective gasp that filled the room told him all he needed to know. He already had them all.

The first note sang out, a soft start to a slow melody. The trick would unravel if he showed his hand too soon. He did not need his eyes to see their anticipation. They hung on his every note, convinced that the next would justify the incredible cost of his service. Perhaps he enjoyed this too much, the selfish entertainment of leading them on nearly disrupting his concentration. He eased slowly into his song, growing from the deliberate plodding of the prelude to a rich and vibrant chorus.

He could feel the air move through the room, their very breath chained to every swell and fade as his song took hold. He took great pride in his ability to ensnare an audience with nothing but his virtuoso technique, a feat few bards had ever performed. With so captive and audience, the rest of his performance would be largely vestigial, though his pride as a musician bade him to continue. A moment later, a the sound of a second violin joined in, ringing out from inside his own. People these days were consumed by rationalism, ignorant or even wholly dismissive of the magic all around them, even as they witnessed what should have been impossible. The metallic smell of his spell taking root went unnoticed, hidden behind the phantom harmony and the fog growing in their minds.

It was not long before a third, fourth, and finally fifth violin joined the first. To Franz's knowledge, the one-man quintet was a trick of his own invention, a truly unique calling card -- not that anyone ever remembered it. As each violin sounded, the audience sunk deeper into his spell, fascinated by his skill and easily overwhelmed by the magic they never saw coming. Each extra harmony represented an immense strain on his mind and magic, though the end result justified the pain. When the fifth violin finally joined, they were so deeply ensnared that one patron literally fell from his chair. It was a slightly older man, though Franz cared little more than to give a cursory look. The man was useless to him and could sit on the floor if he so wished.

A final scan over his captive audience revealed what he wished to see: a room full of entranced subjects, ready and willing to follow any suggestion he may plant. Normally, he would merely demand gifts and erase memory of his technique. This time, however, he possessed much greater ambition. His eyes settled upon a pair of girls -- a young brunette and redhead -- as he made up his mind. With a smile, he launched into what he knew would have to be the best performance of his life; nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Mary watched the bard with blank eyes, barely registering anything more than the unearthly beautiful music and the rhythmic motions of his hands and bow. Every note was more beautiful and entrancing than the last until it was all she could do to stay awake and listening. It was then, as she teetered on the edge between wakefulness and sleep, that she began to notice a different feeling. What had before been respect and admiration for his skill slowly transformed into attraction. Someone so talented surely deserved to use her as he saw fit. She was ready to drop to her knees and service him when she realized that she could not move.

Every attempt was met instead with a small surge of pleasure and arousal over her entire body. She struggled against her imaginary bonds to reach out to him, yet received nothing but pleasure in return. She wanted nothing more than to pleasure him, yet here she was, trapped in an endless spiral of selfish arousal. The more she struggled, the greater the pleasure until it felt as though a thousand hands stroked her hot, sensitive body with every attempt to move. Her clothes grew hot and confining as her arousal built. She was surprised to notice her hands moving on their own, slowly untying and loosening her dress, yet the pleasure of undressing for him quickly banished any other thought to the back of her mind.

Moments later, she found herself naked and slumped in her chair. She tried to remember how she managed to shed her clothing, yet quickly abandoned her search when it brought no further pleasure. She focused instead on the heat of her arousal, the feeling of blood coursing through her engorged sex. Her wetness flowed freely onto the chair, gathering in a puddle between her legs. She found her arms free to move and immediately pushed both hands to her slit, stroking and fondling every inch of hot flesh. Instead of pleasure, each touch only deepened her arousal. Nothing, not even rough stimulation of her clitoris brought her even an inch closer to release.

She realized quickly that it was not her body that brought pleasure, but submitting to the music. She needed to do what he wanted, though he left her no clue. Her head turned to see Sophia sitting beside her, similarly naked and dripping. Her breath came hot and shallow, panting with arousal and pleasure. Their eyes met, unfocused from the trance and lidded with lust. Their bodies moved shakily closer, faces lining up for what they both knew comes next.

The moment their lips touched, the full-body pleasure she felt earlier returned, as did a deep sense of satisfaction at pleasing her new master. As their kiss deepened, so did her pleasure. Every slow rake and gentle probe of her tongue into Sophia's mouth brought her ever-so-slightly closer to a cliff of pleasure that felt so very far away. One hand found its way into the redhead's tangled mane, gripping her tightly and pulling her passive partner deeper into her kiss as her tongue explored ever deeper. The other hand found the other woman's breast, two fingers running down from the top to run astride her stiff nipple. She felt her touch mirrored on her own breast, sympathetic pleasure given to her as a gift for obedience. The girls gasped in unison as her fingers found a nipple, squeezing softly while circling around her sensitive areola. Each twist was rewarded with a surge of pleasure and a gentle twitch deep inside her sex, as though an invitation to come inside. Her hand trailed down her cousin's considerable bust and down her stomach, dragging her nails across the flushed skin. She felt her every touch in real detail on her own body as her hand crested the girl's mound, combing gently through her trimmed, crimson pubic hair.

Sophia could do nothing but grip the chair tightly as her friend's hand stroked the lips of her sodden quim. Not a single muscle in her body obeyed her, even to reciprocate the kiss that explored her mouth. Drool slipped from her mouth as her jaw hung slack and accepting, a reflection of the action at her lower mouth. Mary's touch was electric, her own body so much more sensitive than she had ever been when playing with herself. He wanted her passive and accepting and she was more than happy to oblige. If this was the pleasure he could offer, she would do whatever he asked.

She came the moment the other girl's hand slipped inside her sex. Her body fought to move, to shake and writhe, but the music would not allow it. She was a passenger in her own body, riding out the waves of pleasure with nothing but the edge of the chair to grasp and hold tight. Her orgasm faded quickly and did nothing to quench the heat in her groin. A single finger drove deeper and deeper inside her before encountering an obstruction.

Her hands tensed in anticipated pain at the breaking of her maiden head, though it never came. Instead, a sense of ease filled her as the finger pushed through and even deeper inside her. She felt the warm blood trickle out of her, yet the pain never came. It was his gift to her, a reward for her obedience. The intruding finger was shortly joined by a second, accompanied by a pleasant stretching sensation. They thrust in together while wiggling slightly, their passage eased by the quantity of juices flowing out of her.

The rhythmic thrusting of Mary's fingers faded into song, merging into a single point of fixation and ultimate pleasure. The music itself was filling her, stroking her to climax with every swell and denying her release with each fade. She gave up struggling to move, simply accepting what was given to her as he wished.

The finale approached and Mary could feel it. Her fingers worked at a frenzied pace to keep up with the music. Her fingers twisted like hooks, exploring Sophia's walls for her hidden pleasure spot. The end was coming and so was her release. Her fingertips scraped a small patch of over-sensitive flesh, drawing forth a pair of moans that met in Sophia's thoroughly violated mouth. Her eyes opened to see Sophia's, rolled back and distant. She barely moved her fingers, pressing and rubbing the spot in short circles while rubbing her palm against the girl's pearl.

Sophia's cunt contracted around her fingers, mirroring the motions in her own needy pussy. For the first time, Mary broke off the kiss as her head lolled back in sympathetic ecstasy. Her orgasm came hard, radiating from the patch of sensitive flesh inside her and washing through the rest of her body. Her body clenched, strangling the moan in her throat. Every motion of her fingers increased the pleasure coursing through her, drawing out her climax to the point that she question when it would end. Her head grew light as she came, a powerful feeling of vertigo overwhelming her but doing little to stop her fingering or her orgasm. With a final contraction, she felt a spray of fluid against her inner thighs and slumped into Sophia's prodigious breasts, unconscious.

Franz was at a loss for words as he stared at the girls. The smaller brunette had collapsed into the lap the busty redhead, hair soaking in a pool of the girl's juices. He hadn't expected them to go unconscious. He set the violin back in his case and contemplated what to do next.

Free from the burden of performance, Franz quickly realized that his erection was threatening to cut its way out of his pants. He freed himself in a hurry while mulling over what to do with the girls. The others would simply sleep until he released them, but he was far from finished with those two. His cock sat upright from his lap, slowly leaking precum as he tested the water.

"Girls, awake and come to me."

The two slowly came to, falling onto their hands and knees before their eyes had even opened. The power of his enchantment dragged their exhausted bodies towards him without even the music. They crawled without sight to sit at his feet, obedient and still. He smiled to himself, proud of his magnum opus.

"Good. Now on the count of three, open your eyes and awaken fully, except with a powerful urge to pleasure me and only me. Become mine now in three, two, one, awake."

Sophia snapped awake immediately, eyes focused and clear of the haze that covered them before. It took a moment for her mind to catch up with her body, overwhelmed by the memories of what just happened and what led her to be seated, naked, before a man, who was also naked, beside her equally naked cousin. For an instant, anger welled up inside her as she realized what he had done to her before it faded just as quickly. Sure, he manipulated her mind and even took her virginity with her own cousin's hand, but he had also gave her pleasure she had never felt before. What's more, he made her his, a pact sealed by magic and much deeper than any physical attraction. Of all the women he could choose from, he chose her and her cousin. The thought excited her, forcing blood back into her aching and recently deflowered sex.

Her master sat before her, looking expectantly at her over the tip of his cock. She had never seen another cock, but she was certain that his would be perfect for her. Her hands came to rest on his knee as she crawled over him to bring her face to his crotch. His smell overwhelmed her as it imprinted in her memory. Everything about him, even his smell and taste, was worthy of her admiration. She grasped him by the root and took his head inside her mouth., making sure to leave plenty of shaft for her cousin as she slipped up beside her.

Impromptu threesomes were not exactly new to Franz, though having a pair of beautiful young woman serve him at once was something he could never tire of. Their devotion to him was astounding, bordering on unsettling. For the first time in his career, he began to question the morality of what he had done, though such concerns faded away quickly as the girls started to kiss his head. Their lips formed a seal around his tip while their tongues prodded and played with him, paying special attention to the rim.

Four hands massaged whatever they could reach, cupping and squeezing his balls while stroking his thighs, stomach, and chest. Twin tongues worked slowly down his shaft, half-closed mouths kissing and sucking on their way. The synchronized licking and sucking was incredibly arousing but ultimately unfulfilling. Too distracted for words, he grabbed Sophia's head and positioned it above the head of his cock, thrusting up and into her mouth.

The girls took the hint, switching positions to better serve their new master. Mary knelt lower, kissing and suckling his scrotum and devoting both hands to his testicles. Sophia, meanwhile, built a steady rhythm, bouncing her head up and down on his cock. It was obvious they were inexperienced but it mattered little, sheer devotion and enthusiasm making up for lack of practice. The redhead's tongue held flat against his head and pushed him to the roof of her mouth, creating a slippery yet tight channel.

Sophia altered her technique, abandoning long strokes in favor of focusing on his head. Her tongue working in a frenzy, rolling and flicking the sensitive patch on the underside of his tip while she thrust him in and out with dizzying speed, never taking in more than half an inch past his crown. His hips thrust up at the new stimulation, taken aback by the sudden change of tempo and pressure. Her mouth turned sideways, forcing him into her cheek. Her speed never changed even as she trapped him between her cheek and massaging tongue, trapping his glans in a tight but incredibly elastic passage. His hands gripped her tightly as his body tensed in preparation, though it was not to be. Sophia sensed her master's approaching climax and released him from her mouth, grasping him by the root and licking in slow strokes from the base to his head. He teetered on the edge of orgasm, too aroused to come down but without enough stimulation to make the final push.

Franz did his best to catch his breath as he recovered, intent on giving the other girl a chance. Sophia did not make it easy on him, her slow licks and gentle stimulation making his rod twitch in her grasp. Her deep blue eyes stared into his from underneath her tangled mass of crimson hair, damp with sweat and who knows what else. He stopped her before he lost himself in her ministrations, pushing her off and ordering them to switch.

The pair responded immediately, Mary taking position between his legs as Sophia crawled up his chest, bringing her hand-filling breasts up to his face in offering, one he would gladly accept. Her hands stroked his scalp, running through his unkempt hair and down the back of his neck. She pressed him deeper into her bust as he licked and sucked whatever flesh found its way before him. His hands joined the effort, groping and slowly stroking her mounds. Her leg wrapped around his chest, pulling him in close as he found her nipple with his mouth. She pressed her hips into his side, softly pressing and rubbing her clit against him while he sucked and gently nipped her sensitive bud.

Mary took her time to size up his length while her cousin practically smothered him in her bust. A brief flash of envy passed through her as she watched him struggle to hold the full weight of her rack. Focusing instead on the task at hand, she wrapped both hands around his well-lubricated cock and began to stroke. Her hands pumped in opposite directions, meeting at the midpoint of his length before twisting gently and once again separating. Her mouth descended on his tip, holding it in and sucking. Her tongue prodded gently against his urethra, flicking and rolling gently over his very tip as she drew suction.

Franz was already close to orgasm from Sophia's turn and felt his orgasm resting on a hair trigger. Every slow stroke of the brunette's hands elicited a twitch of his hips as his climax approached. He could do nothing to stay his imminent release, electing instead to redouble his efforts on the bust presented to him. One arm slid around her back to pull her in closer while the other hand pulled and squeezed on her breast as though milking. He would not have been too surprised if she did let out milk, considering the fervency of his sucking and nibbling on her overused nipple.

Franz held Sophia close as he thrust into Mary's hands, his orgasm but a few pumps away. The brunette struggled to contain his trusts, gripping tighter still to maintain her grip and keep him from impaling her throat on his cock. The increased stimulation was all he needed to pull the trigger on his climax. He moaned into Sophia's nipple as he thrust up in release. Her mouth held tightly over his head as it was flooded with cum, splattering around as her tongue pressed against his hole. Throughout his orgasm, her hands never stopped stroking, wringing his cock for every drop of seed.

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