Puppeteer Ch. 05

Story Info
Niven on his quest to understand Sorr'an.
4.6k words
4.58
11.8k
00

Part 5 of the 11 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 02/12/2009
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Nirkal
Nirkal
18 Followers

Hello everybody! Yep, a new chapter! Few of our lovely catboy, but that will change and this chapter describes why. Curious? Then read on! Many thanks to my beta Cassiopeia, who's good at betaing and at kicking me into writing! If you like, please leave a review and rate!

----------------------------------------

Eels, Painter and Necklaces

This night I got a deep and satisfying sleep. I woke up with sunup, stray sunbeams filtering in through the window. I could still feel the exertions of the last days, my muscles sore and protesting when I stretched carefully but I felt way better. There was something amiss though; I just couldn't place my finger on what it was. 'You miss that hot and sexy catboy on top of you!' I growled: "Shut up!" to my inner voice that seemed to be inspired by this idiot Arias and his insistent and daft blabbering about me having a crush on Sorr'an.

Said catboy was mumbling something in his sleep and I got up and stood beside his bed watching him. He looked much better, his skin back to a healthy and warm-looking bronzed color, the rings under his eyes fainter. His cheeks were still a little haggard but he hadn't eaten properly for two days. My hand reached out to touch his jowl and I ran my index finger along his jaw line. His skin felt soft to my touch, the searing fever of the last days replaced by pleasant warmth.

I stopped my caress abruptly. 'What am I doing here? Hell, is Arias right?' I watched Sorr'an, the peaceful expression on his face, high cheekbones, elegant eyebrows and lush, kissable lips. The sunbeams made his face glow lightly. 'Okay, I can easily admit he looks cute, adorable and utterly sexy. I also know that the rest of his body is not one bit inferior to his face. So yeah, perhaps I have a crush. But it's plain physical.' I sighed silently, drew back my hand, grabbed my clothing and left for the bathroom.

I was surprised when a tub with hot, steaming water greeted me. 'Heavens!' I thought when I dropped my clothes and sat into the bathe, my muscles starting to loosen. I moaned with contentment and leaned my head against the head rest, slid deeper into the heated fluid and closed my eyes. For some moments my head was filled with blissful void but then my thoughts went back to Sorr'an. 'Okay, I have cleared that I do have a small crush on the kitten but every healthy and red-blooded man would lust after that body!' I chuckled. 'Well, not every man, but nonetheless. But Arias is right I can't just leave him alone now. It would put all my efforts to nothing and it would be a shame to waste this great body to some slavers or trophy hunters. So, I have to get him into security perhaps back to his folk? Maybe there are more cuties like him?' A wide grin appeared on my face. 'Without any possibility to communicate this is going to be difficult, but when we can talk to each other I can ask for a decent thank you.' The grin turned into a smirk and some colorful mental images intensified my flush, which came from the hot water. 'But that means I have to face her. Worse; I have to ask her a favor!' I groaned and all the arousal that built up during the last minutes vanished in an instant. 'Well, it's no use, I have to do it. You better be very grateful, my little catboy!'

I scrubbed my body with a rough washcloth and a piece of white soap till my skin started to ache slightly and then got out of the washtub, started to towel myself dry while I left to the corridor and walked towards a room that belonged to me some time ago. The closets in there still contained some of my vesture. I entered the room, dropped the towel to the floor and rummaged through the wardrobe. I flung over some simple undergarments, black leather pantaloons and a blue colored shirt. Soft leather shoes made me ready to face the day. My stomach grumbled and reminded me that I should indeed get something into it before leaving the house.

I went downstairs into the kitchen where Gerald sat with a tubby young woman, both eating their breakfast and chatting idly. When I entered the room Gerald stood up and asked me: "You want to take your breakfast in the dinning room, Master Niven?"

"Sit down and finish your meal, Gerald. I'll help myself, thank you."

"As you wish, Master Niven."

I helped myself to a plate of sweet porridge, some short, thick sausages, bacon and sunny upside eggs, all sizzling in a pan. I sat down at the same table Gerald and the maid were sitting.

"So Master Niven, how long will you be staying?"

"Not long, a day or two, so you don't have to worry about feeding me or my guest too much."

"I didn't mean it that way Master Niven."

"I know Gerald, just a joke. Elaise, how are you doing?"

"Fine Master Niven, it's good to see you again." She blushed a little at that and got even a little redder when I gave her a smile. I then dug in, cleaning my plate in record time. I hadn't had a decent meal for days. At least not one that stayed in my stomach. Elaise put down a cup of water and one of milk in front of me and I thanked her with a smiling nod.

After I finished my meal I left the kitchen and went to the library. I knew Arias liked to take his morning tea there, if he was already up. Entering the large room a kaleidoscope of colors greeted me. The morning sun shone through differently tinged windows, the crystals in them breaking the light to different angles. When I was younger this spectacle of colors would awe and fascinate me for hours. Even now I was still intrigued.

"Arias?" I asked.

"Hmmm..." came the quiet reply. I followed the sound and found him behind a bookcase, his gaze on a page where colored patterns flowed over the paper. It looked like the words crawled over the page and transformed, forming new pictures and words and deliquescing every new moment.

"Magic?" I asked.

"Not sure. Discovered it a few years ago, but I don't recognize most the words or drawings. And they are different each time I watch them." He smiled and looked relaxed. "But it calms me and I like to watch it before a busy day." He looked up and a small grin formed on his face. "Ready to tackle the day? Do you still want to...?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I'll do it. You were right, he will be helpless and without any way to communicate, I won't be able to help him. I just wished there was another way."

Arias grinned and stood up, reached for my shirt and loosened the strings that tied it together. "I think that may help. Chin up, it's not that bad."

This cheered me up a little and I curtly nodded. "I leave now. Hope to be back soon."

The older man smirked. "Take your time, Niven, don't rush anything."

I groaned and shook my head. "Ever the pervert. I wonder why you won't go instead of me."

Not waiting for an answer I turned on my heels and left the house. The streets buzzed with life, traders and knife grinders offering their business, children chasing dogs or each other through the crowd, beggars cadging for coins to ease their misery and carriages trundling through the streets. The sky was cloudless; the mid-morning air warm. I took a deep breath smelling the city, though it was cushy here in the upper city, more minted by the odor of food, perfume, spices and herb then in the shanty town where its stink of animals, feces and mud could be breathtaking. I walked along the streets without any hurry. I took the time to look around at what changed in the time I was away and inspected displayed goods of different salesmen.

Finally my feet took me to a mansion around the same size to that of Arias. I sighed and pulled the bell rope. A young, good looking man opened the door. "I want to talk to Lady Belathia!" I instructed him. He looked at me with a weird look and then nodded, motioned me to follow him. We entered the house, crossed some rooms and floors before he stopped in front of a big door, knocking against it. After a moment he opened it and stepped in, announcing me.

"Mistress, there's someone who wants to see you!"

A rough, female voice answered him. "Good Norran. Lead them in and then mind your own business again."

Norran signaled me to enter the room and closed the door behind me. I lifted an eyebrow. "Mistress? That's an interesting title, Belathia."

A woman appeared behind a shelf. She had curly black hair in a wild mane to her shoulders, elegantly swung eyebrows, thin nose and lips, ice blue colored eyes and a pale complexion. She was quite tall for a woman, the top of her head reaching my forehead. Belathia had a womanly figure; her revealing dress accentuating her soft curves and providing a generous view on her ample décolleté. All in all she was a beauty you only come across every 100 years and I knew of many men that fell for her and never recovered from that.

"Well, at least my personnel know how to address me, boy."

"Boy, hmm? At least I know that one normally asks people for their names before one lets them in their mistress' house!"

"His manners may leave a lot to be desired but he has other... qualities."

"Qualities? I'm sure you make good use of them." I smirk at her.

"What are you here for? If you need something to resuscitate your love life, I'm sure Arias has something... uplifting for you!"

I lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, I have no problems with lifting anything up. Actually I wanted to ask a favor."

She approached me, swinging her hips suggestively. "Oh, and what could that be, that little Niven wants?" She gently lifted a hand to my jaw and cupped it, then drew her finger from my ear over the jaw line and throat to my exposed chest. Her words were a husky whisper. "Is this an offer, boy?"

I involuntarily shivered. 'Damn Arias, you and your stupid ideas!' I took a step back, lacing the cords of my shirt together. "I need a... device that allows me to understand foreign languages. Oh, I also want the other to understand me."

Belathia lifted an elegant eyebrow. "You need this for what?"

I sighed because I knew she would want to hear an explanation. I decided to stick with the truth; it is almost impossible to lie to her. "I met a Katze. I rescued them, they helped me out and got poisoned in the process, I dragged them here and Arias healed them, but now we can't communicate with them."

Something in the sorceress' eyes twinkled and she pushed me on a sofa, my eyes now level with her cleavage. I gulped with uneasiness, when she leaned down a little, her breath ghosting over the skin of my ear. "Let me guess, Niven. It's a sweet Katze-boy. I heard they make good pleasure slaves and the things you can make out of their tails are legendary."

I squinted my eyes and slipped away from her, stood up, growling at her. "What do you want?"

She smirked. "So I was right? Well, you know the price. Last time you didn't want to pay it, but it hasn't changed."

I paled visibly while she turned away and went to a crate, rummaging in it and then lifted a glass out of it. In a clear fluid swam a worm that was about 4 inches long. One end had a wide ringlike opening that was adorned with lots of sharp, pointy teeth. It swam against the glass and pressed its mouth against it. "Never, and you know that Belathia!"

She grinned at me. "You want something from me, I want something from you!"

I took a step back. "It's unnatural!"

A lifted eyebrow was the response. "Come on, I just want your semen."

I spluttered. "What about the good old traditional way? You know, I'm sure you wouldn't regret it." I tried a seductive smile, but I was sure I failed.

Belathia shook the glass and the eel sucked at the inner wall of the pot, closing the teeth-littered mouth menacingly. "But this would be much faster and less dirty."

I took another step back. "I won't ever put that thing on my dick, never ever! If there isn't another way to get what I want from you, I'll get it otherwise."

The sorceress laughed. "I don't think you'll find another person anywhere near that could offer you what you want. Well, perhaps Naduriel, but I doubt he'd ever look at you, least help you."

I gazed a last time at the glass she was holding and then turned. "I'll figure something out, but I won't do that."

I made my way to the door when she called me back. "Perhaps there is something else that you could do for me with your special abilities." I looked over my shoulder and saw a contemplating look on her face, the pot -- fortunately -- back in the crate. "Your timing is perfect, too. I need you this early afternoon."

I watched her warily. "What for?"

Belathia motioned me to sit down and took a place on a chair herself. I followed her invitation but kept my distance. "Naduriel", she spat the name, "and I are competing over the seat of the First Magicae Communicatia of the West. He is one step ahead of me because of certain unpropitious circumstances. He's holding a public speech that could win him the race for the title but it could also destroy his hopes for it." She looked at me intently with her last words.

I could guess where this was leading to and I didn't like it. "As much as I'd like to be of help and as much as I hate this prancing rooster there's one problem. He knows my face and my eyes..."

The sorceress halted my demurs with an impatient beck of her hand. "Norran will take care about that. You'll be attending his showing and affect him to write some nonsense and perhaps even talk some."

I stared at her for a moment and then cocked an eyebrow. "My lady, I thank you for your faith in my abilities, but Naduriel isn't dumb. He'll have protection magic and charms and even if he doesn't, he's a high mage after all and I doubt I can win control over him, least of all without him realizing it."

She stood up, going to the door. "Keep your irony to yourself, I know of your limited skills. Your friend Arias handed me once a nice tincture that will lower his resistance against your magic and before you ask how I will instill it in him, know that I have ways and means. Now follow me."

We went to the top story and then entered a studio. Three walls consisted only of windows, allowing the sun to shine brightly into the room. There were even two windows in the ceiling that allowed sunbeams to enter the studio. Every window had shutters and heavy draperies on it. A chest on front of one window and two chairs were the only furnishing present. Belathia pointed to a stool. "Sit down and wait here, boy!"

I rolled my eyes but obliged. After a few minutes the door opened and Norran, the boy that opened the gates to the mansion, entered the room. He stepped to the chest and took a color palette out of it, then sat down in front of me. Pulling out a long knife he sliced his palm to let a small flow of blood drip on the palette. After a minute he drew a brush from the inner pocket of his vest and brushed it over the slash which started to close immediately. When he started to mix it with the crusted colors realization dawned upon me. "You're a Painter?!"

He nods curtly. "Yes, and now keep still."

"That was what Belathia meant when she was talking about your qualities." I nodded thoughtfully then smirked at him. "Or do you have other qualities that are of value for her?"

He looked me directly in my eyes, his facial expression neutral. "I don't sleep with the mistress nor do I wish so. Now stop moving and talking or your face will look like melted cheese in the sun."

I let him work, the soft bristles tingling on my skin. Painters are specialized and highly skilled illusionists. They excel in changing the outward appearance of objects and creatures by drawing the new look simply on the surface, fur or skin and their magic makes it look likes it real. They are limited in their ability of deceiving height or girth and they cannot create illusions out of nothing. But when they finished their work it doesn't need any energy and concentration to maintain it and the possibility to detect the illusion as such is almost zero even for the best anti-magicians.

I twitched when he started to work on my eyes. "Don't budge one bit, eyes are always the most difficult part." It felt weird when someone was poking with a brush over your eyeballs but it was bearable. When he deemed his work done he got up and fetched me a hand mirror from the chest. I carefully took the precious object from his hands and looked at my face. I gaped in awe. My black hair framed a face I never saw before. Narrow eyes of a pale blue, bushy eyebrow, low cheekbones, a broad nose, a small and thin mouth looked at me from the shiny surface.

"Norran, that's fantastic! You are a master of your craft. Though a little more attractive would have been nice."

"The mistress asked for something inconspicuous and I did just that. A face like a hundred others from the streets. Not too filthy; perhaps a trader's son who wants to catch some intelligent phrases to impress the ladies."

I nodded. "Task completed." I looked him up and down. "You're good, really good. I don't know why you're working for Belathia, especially when you don't want to..." I suddenly grinned. "Hey, what do you say to a date after this is over?"

His facial expression never faltered when he watched me shortly then left the room, telling me. "I don't think so. The mistress awaits you in the foyer."

Then he was gone. 'Suit yourself.' I wandered down to the foyer to meet the sorceress.

----------------------------------

I sat in the auditorium of the Magica Communicatia faculty and hundreds of adepts, magicians and curious people, who thought they could get a glimpse of real magic, were filling the hall. I saw the members of the high council sitting on the balconies at the side of the auditorium. Being here an hour before the presentation began I got a seat close to the podium where I had a good view on Naduriel who was tall, slim, grey hair, grim facial features and wore a richly adorned robe. The high mage talked about long distance and time communication, scribbling formulas and theorems on the blackboard. I doubt more then ten persons in this room understood them. If it wasn't for my mission I would have fallen asleep as many people around me did.

I kept glancing at one balcony, where Belathia sat, and waited for her sign. Before I left her manor she drummed "Don't do anything stupid or rash!" into me. All I had to do was take control of Naduriel, just for a fraction of a second. I was instructed to make him write certain small symbols; altogether four times. These small additions to his formulas wouldn't make any difference to a normal audience but magicians who actually were able to follow Naduriel's explanations and theories would see the flaws. This was Belathia's intention so that she could take apart Naduriel in the closed discussion afterwards.

There was the first sign. I focused on the back of the mage and concentrated. There was a big black wall that shielded me from taking control. Mental fingers slid along the massive barrier and panic started to rise in me. Sweat formed on my forehead. There seemed no way through it when I suddenly found a small crack. I slipped between it and made the connection. As soon as I had the control I added with a flick of my wrist a small but complex looking sign before I let the strings slip.

I glanced at Belathia who nodded in approval. 'Good!' The next three times were easier, now that I knew what to look for. All the time a huge, sleeping power surrounded me whenever I made a connection and I was glad it never stirred or -- Narro's mercy -- woke up.

When the public part was over I left the auditorium as fast as possible without attracting interest. I went to a pub between downtown and trader's district that offered discreet booths, ordered a beer and waited. After a short time a black clothed figure sat down at my table. Without any comment he strewed powder into my beer and then pricked his index finger dripping two droplets of blood into my brew.

Nirkal
Nirkal
18 Followers
12