Misou shook the small vial in a circle at eye level, hoping to the High Warlock that the solution would turn purple and waft a luscious gold smoke instead of this bland green concoction currently sloshing about. It was a simple party potion---even the most moronic protégé of all the Warlock’s could have managed but not Misou. Being half Warlock and half Vesteeb--- or an of age witch without schooling--- set him below the standards of a protégé in study. Only because of his father’s power and voice over the higher level Warlocks was Misou able to attend school at all.
He sighed and set the vial in the wooden holder next to his other seven failures and went over his course book diligently---determined to get the potion right. Once violet, the liquid was to smoke just a little before purple confetti would explode into the air. Such child’s play yet it was important to be seen as adequate in his classes because of Misou’s reputation as one so low on the totem pole. So back to the book he went.
The small candle burned next to him with a flickering flame as he remained in the small loft of the study tower for another four hours perfecting the potion. Stars floated in the sky out the double latched window and Misou sighed---a frown becoming a permanent fixture on his lips. Just once he’d like to turn an assignment in on time. Just once he’d like to be like the others in the regular courses. But his magic just wouldn’t come and he’d have to resort to asking his father for help and that was shameful in itself.
Being twenty years and fully grown without but a dusting of power was depressing. So much so, that Misou had no friends and a male of worth would never look his way---even though Misou was as beautiful as a field of fresh spring flowers…they would never give him the time of day. He cursed the day he was born at least once a week but this night, something changed and the poor protégé shut down with the grief of his failure. He would never get the potion right in time. Why bother any longer?
Staring at the vials filled with proof of his half-blooded status, Misou put his hands to his face and wept quietly.
The High Warlock’s second---the Magistrate---Nyrum picked up his robes and silently made his way up the tower steps; his soft green boots making not a sound against the stone as he ascended to the upper levels. Nyrum wished to see tonight’s meteor shower from the highest point in all the city and the academy tower was the place to be for such an occasion. Passing all of the professor’s private offices, the Magistrate reached the top chamber and stopped---putting his hand on the edge of the entrance and peaking around the normally closed door.
A young protégé was bent over the wooden desk with his face in his hands, slender shoulders shaking softly---a batch of obviously failed potions in front of him. The male was of some status for his long dark hair was braided most decoratively, with leaves of precious metals threaded throughout. Furthermore, his robe was an expensive length of midnight blue that accented his pale skin in a most attractive manner. He was beautiful, Nyrum thought, and he hadn’t even shown his face.
Pondering what to do with a glance at the copper telescope in the corner, Nyrum pulled his green hood down and exposed his rich red tresses---his waist length locks spilling over his robe like water. He regarded the boy with his youthful blue eyes and knew the male needed help. Being the Magistrate would never have been Nyrum’s future had he not been guided along by his elders in his past. So it was only right to pass on such graces to the younger generation---not that he was old. He was only hundred and twenty seven---a mere babe compared to the others of the council.
“Good evening, protégé,” Nyrum greeted the boy. A startled gasp and a flailed hand sent eight tiny vials of potion shattering to the floor.
“Oh, no. Please, forgive me. You…you startled me.” The male dropped to his knees from the chair and kept his face hidden while he retrieved the tiny bits of broken glass.
“No, no. It was my fault for scaring you. Let me help you.” The Magistrate attempted to kneel but the younger male held up a hand, eyeing the bottom of Nyrum’s robes---the green symbolizing status among the Warlocks.
“Someone as powerful as yourself must never be seen cleaning up. I will handle the mess of my own doing. Again, I apologize if I dirtied you in any way,” Misou said. He tried to keep the tears inside as shame once again got the best of him but he failed miserably---a few traitorous drops rushing over his skin. Using the edge of his best robe, he attempted to clean up the disgusting sewer green muck from the polished stone floor but was grabbed by the wrist before could.
“You would soil such a beautiful garment on purpose?” A flabbergasted Warlock asked him---like he was from another planet entirely. Finally Misou looked up and his green eyes went wide with recognition---the Magistrate, it could not be. If he had been ashamed before, now he felt the nails being hammered into his coffin. He was doomed.
As the young male looked at him with understanding and a certain bit of fear, Nyrum too recognized the eyes before him---for they were the same as the High Warlock himself, emerald green and sparkling like an Irish spring. “You are Misou Mikai, the High Warlock’s son. Are you not?”
Misou hung his head. “Yes.” With his soft response, he pulled his wrist from the Magistrate’s grasp and folded his hands within his lap.
Nyrum had heard of the High Warlock’s fling years ago with a Vesteeb but he had yet to actually meet the offspring of that encounter. These days the Groia---Misou’s father---was married to a full witch and they had three children of great status in the magical community. Nyrum had heard of the lowly son that had an ounce of talent in his pinky finger and could not believe the tales he’d heard in passing. Then again he had never seen the male with his own eyes for Groia kept him hidden within the academy as a protégé to keep Misou out of the dramatic spotlight. It sounded a horrible fate but Groia did this out of love for the Warlock’s were a nasty bunch of gossips.
In private Groia had doted on his beautiful little son, saying he was as pretty as a nightingale and soft spoken---diligent in his studies and a father could never ask for more than for Misou to try his best. Nyrum sighed now as he looked at the rare creature before him. The male looked like a doll in his beauty, with flushed cheeks and red lips. And without thinking, Nyrum reached out a hand and cupped Misou’s cheek. So soft, like silk, Nyrum thought in wonder.
“I…I must go now,” Misou murmured and pulled away. Rising quickly in his panic and mindless of his own doings, the son of the High Warlock extended his palm at the mess below and it vanished from the floor. Misou went slack jawed and stock still, looking from his hand to the floor in astonishment. “That’s…that is…impossible.”
A smile curled at Nyrum’s lips as he watched the frightened protégé in awe over his own magical devices. He hummed an approval and rose to tower over the young male. “It seems that you just needed a little…attention to get things started. How do you feel?”
Misou’s body fizzled with a tingly feeling from head to toe, like he had just drank an entire batch of Hoitchberry wine. He had done it. Something very small albeit but he’d done it! His eyes flickered with emotion as he looked up into the face of the most handsome Warlock he’d ever seen. “I did it,” he whispered.
“Yes, it seems you did young protégé. Do you wish to try that vial again?” Nyrum put a hand on the boy’s slender shoulder and caressed down his back. He could not help himself and like an addict he swept his fingers back up along the velvety robe Misou wore.
Shivering under the Magistrate’s touch, Misou nodded and let Nyrum guide him back to the table. “Sit, Misou.”
The fair skinned protégé sat back at the table while the Magistrate lit the chandelier above them with a wave of his hand---a rich smoky scent left by his magic in the air. Another flick of his fingers and a whisper from his lips opened all four double windows in the loft, letting the breeze of the sky into the tiny space.
“Is that alright with you?” Nyrum gestured to the windows and Misou nodded. The protégé could not stop looking at the other man. Nyrum was stronger than he, with nice broad shoulders and hair the color of burning mulberries. Not to mention those thick thighs that peeked out of his robe that were covered in soft green leather. The Magistrate was most handsome and Misou’s mouth went dry just from peeking from under his lashes.
“What is the first thing you are taught at the academy?” Nyrum turned to the brunette and Misou cleared his throat and looked at the desk.
“That power is you and you are power. Magic does not exist without one or the other,” Misou recited as the line had been drilled into his brain since birth.
“Correct but do you know what that really means Misou?” Nyrum asked and perched himself on the edge of the heavy desk, crossing his feet at the ankles and staring intently at the younger male.
“That…um…power is everything.”
“No. That is incorrect and that is the reason that you do not excel. Not what your blood is mixed with like everyone believes. Have you ever thought about your heritage Misou?” The Magistrate was calm in his words but his brain was on fire with insight. This male had been led to believe that he was weak because his mother had chosen not to rise above. It did not make his blood dirty for his mother’s mother was a most powerful witch and his bloodline was full of many high status individuals. If Misou did not believe he was of the same standing, he would never have the power he had inherited. Why had no one else sought to reverse this handicap? Ah yes, there was the entire publicity of Misou as a person. Never would they allow a son of a Vesteeb to rise above. Tonight though, Nyrum would hold him in the air if he had to. This boy would do great things.
“No Magistrate, I try not to,” Misou replied. He could feel Nyrum getting closer but he couldn’t look up.
“Your birth mother chose not to practice in favor of running amuck like a gypsy. It was not because of her blood. Within our community a Vesteeb is not a death sentence it is just a way of looking down upon those that have a little more party left in them shall we say. Your mother was not a horrible person Misou. She was just not tempered enough for her studies, nothing more, and nothing less. You…” Nyrum cupped Misou’s chin and lifted those green eyes to meet his gaze. “…will be very powerful. You just have to believe you are.”
Nyrum’s fingertips traced down Misou’s jaw and wisped over his neck before fluttering away. “Me sir?”
“Yes, you…” Nyrum murmured and wanted nothing more to pull Misou to his body and run his fingers through that thick silky bundle of hair. Clearing his throat, Nyrum knew better than that and pushed off the desk. “Prepare a new vial and start with the crushed limestone,” Nyrum instructed in his most academic tone.
“Yes, Magistrate,” Misou replied and pulled a fresh vial from the shelf. The young male’s reply causing Nyrum to picture Misou in his bed, surrounded by red silk sheets…yes, Magistrate he’d purr. Oh no. This was bad.
“Then the lemongrass, sir?” Misou turned and for the first time that evening, he smiled.
It had been two weeks since that night in the tower with the Magistrate and a lot had happened since then. Misou had been invited to study directly under the Magistrate himself and live within Nyrum’s own home---much to the flare in theatrics from the High Warlock council. But the Magistrate being an old friend of Misou’s father and his second in command earned Nyrum his own opinions as to who and who not to choose as his apprentice---as a Warlock would only ever have one in his lifetime. Which…was forever.
So it had been said and done. Misou was to be Nyrum’s apprentice. Not having been anywhere besides his father’s home in the hills or in the academy itself, Misou was nervous of his new apprenticeship. Nyrum did not have any children or siblings to care for, so it would just be Nyrum, Misou, and the few staff that lived at the house.
Using a sprinkle of ghosting powder, Misou transported himself and his trunk from the academy to the countryside home of the Magistrate. Lush rolling hills in greens and blues served as a backdrop to the black stone home with shining copper shingled turrets. A collection of various sized windows spattered the front of the home and gave the impression that Nyrum enjoyed natural light…a lot.
Misou smiled and grabbed up his scarlet robes, pulling his trunk after him down the cobblestone path. Flowers in deep reds and purples sprouted from larger bushes near the front door and Misou leaned down to smell the unfamiliar fauna. He squeaked as his nose was almost bitten off---the flowers petals snapping closed with tiny spikes and opening slowly again as Misou backed away.
“Oh heavens! Forgive me my lord,” a servant called. The small blonde man snatched Misou’s trunk without another word and cranked his hand for the new apprentice to follow. “This way, this way…” The servant finally huffed when Misou was taking too long staring at his surroundings. “The master is almost done bathing and he wanted you settled before dinner.”
Misou inhaled suddenly, the thought of Nyrum nude and soapy in the bath, washing his muscular legs slowly and letting water drip over that broad chest…It had been undeniable that Misou found his new teacher handsome in a way that ended with the brunette touching himself unnaturally every night. Misou had no idea why he did this but it felt so good to think of Nyrum without his clothing and his hand would become Nyrum’s hand.
“Sir!” The servant snapped his fingers in Misou’s face and the protégé’s cheeks turned magenta with embarrassment. “Right then, on we go.” The little man rolled his eyes and pulled Misou’s trunk to the end of the hall.
“This is it, your suite,” the little man spat---as if showing the brunette a bedroom was a nightmare in physical form.
“Thank you ever so much. I’m sorry sir I didn’t catch your name…” Misou smiled sweetly and the blonde cocked his head curiously.
“Did you just call me sir? And thank me?” The blonde raised a brow but a smile fought at his lips.
“Well you were kind enough to show me my room and you are a man are you not? That is what a sir is yes? Or am I lacking in your title?” Misou played with his robe. Had he offended the little man?
“Hmm. Well, yes I am a man but…” The servant leaned forward and whispered, “you shouldn’t call me sir around the master. Harlow will do just fine, sir.” Harlow smiled a little. “Everything is ready for you. If you should need anything else just call for me and I will hear you. The master wishes to escort you to dinner himself.”
“He does?” Misou blushed. It was a great honor to have the Magistrate invite you to his table in the first place but to escort you was usually reserved for…oh my. What an honor indeed!
“Yes, he does.” Harlow rolled his beady little eyes and snorted. “You are all he…” A flame flared to life on the hall table and Harlow looked up slowly to the second floor with a gulp. “Right. I’ll leave you be now.” The servant blew the flame out and scurried down the hall---leaving Misou alone with his trunk. Strange fellow, the apprentice shrugged and raised a brow to the smoking wick in the hallway.
The young male opened the door and peered inside, a smile immediately lighting up his face. Everything was red and gold---red being his favorite color; the draperies, the bedding, the thick carpets covering the floor, and even the curled chaise in front of the fireplace was a blood scarlett---every bit of it fit for king. Misou walked to the bed and ran his hand over the silk duvet with a grin before reaching up and untying his robe at his neck. He let the red pool to the floor, leaving a thin linen tunic covering his chest and tight black leggings covering his legs.
The hood had hid his braid that the academy servants had done for his travel but now the blasted thing seemed all too tight for his scalp. So he untied the end and let loose his mane of dark chocolate tresses. With a sigh, he decided to change for dinner and grabbed his tunic at the bottom and lifted it over his head.
Nyrum was about to knock against the open door when he saw Misou bare his chest to the room. Immediately Nyrum stopped breathing as the younger male ran his small hand over his porcelain skin and went to untie his leggings. Announce yourself, Nyrum’s mind screamed, but he couldn’t stop watching---not as the leggings were untied, not when the boots were slid off, and not when that black leather slid down Misou’s creamy backside.
Yes, Nyrum breathed, that’s it little one, all the way off. Hearing a small catch of breath, Nyrum backed out of the doorway to see Harlow with wide eyes. That brought the Magistrate out of his own head and into reality. Misou would never want him that way, the male was surely born to breed with looks like those. Sighing, Nyrum leaned down to Harlow. “When he is dressed, escort him downstairs. I’ll wait in the dining room.”
“But Master, he was so…” Harlow argued for his new friend---if that’s what Misou was to him. The young boy had been so excited that the Master had made such a request. He would be devastated to see Harlow instead---or worse…insulted.
“Harlow.” Nyrum warned and the small servant bowed his head with respect.
Misou dressed his hair with a gold circlet, weaving it in and out of his multi-braided mane. He wondered if Nyrum would notice how it caught the light. No dummy, Misou scolded himself, of course he won’t. He’s just being respectful because of who your father is. It’s nothing more than any of the other professors have done for you---smiled because your father said to.
With sad eyes, the apprentice slipped on a white tunic and tan leggings---pulling on a short midnight blue dinner cape embroidered in gold. After tying up his dark brown boots, he sat on the chaise and waited for Nyrum with a nervous tap of his foot. Why was he thinking about him so much? He was just like the other males that Misou had craved so badly. But he’d never…touched himself like that to any of the others. None of them would dare even look at him. Was that why he was fascinated with Nyrum---because the Magistrate had touched him? That had to be it.
It was out of respect for your father, Misou thought, do not fool yourself into thinking otherwise. If you ever actually become a real Warlock, you must resign yourself to knowing that you will never take a partner---no one wants a half blood. The candles in the room flickered and the flames became smaller. Misou didn’t even notice.
“Sir? Are you ready for dinner?” Harlow appeared in the open doorway and Misou turned to the servant with his heart somewhere around his stomach. See? That inner voice chimed, you are not worthy. He has decided against you. He has grown wise to how pathetic you are.
“Yes. Thank you Harlow.” Misou gathered his pride and smiled, walking out into the hall and letting Harlow guide him downstairs.
The trip was rather short as the candlelit dining room was just beyond the stairs but it felt like forever to Misou. He was kind of angry that Nyrum had lied to Harlow and to him for that matter. To his own servant? Harlow’s face was broken and he kept looking at the floor as if shamed to even speak to Misou. But it was not the apprentice’s place to make this unjust known to Nyrum, for in truth, the Magistrate knew what he did was wrong. He was obviously intelligent enough.
Nyrum sat at the other end of the long black table in a dark green sleeveless robe casting a bored stare---his chin resting in his hand. The room was a little dark with all the windows curtained but Misou saw Nyrum’s eyes just fine. They spoke volumes and told the apprentice where his place was loud and clear. What did he expect from the Magistrate as a teacher? A smile and some sort of conversation? Well…yes.
Another servant appeared and he and Harlow served the meal or another round of silence---whatever you preferred to call it. It was some sort of fish with lemon and decorative petals lining the plate. Misou’s stomach lurched at the thought of eating, not because of the fish, but because he was upset and he didn’t know how to deal with it. At the academy, he could hide in the loft and breathe through his anger or sadness, but here? He had to face it head on and across from a true Warlock no less.
“If you have something to say, go ahead…” Nyrum offered. His fingers curled around the fork with the need to comfort the male across the table who was so obviously distressed. But he couldn’t for Misou was not his to touch. He knew the apprentice was just angry for the sudden refusal of escort and was probably offended but there was nothing he could do now.
“I…I believe I am ill sir. If it would not offend you, I think I would feel better lying down,” Misou relayed with an edge of ice in his voice. Nyrum straightened and studied Misou with a frown. Those beautiful china doll eyes had gone blank and were staring somewhere around Nyrum’s shoulder so the apprentice didn’t have to look at him directly. He had most definitely offended Misou.
“Are you sure? There is raspberry tarte for dessert.” Nyrum tried in a lighter tone and relaxed his body to show the younger male he wasn’t angry with him. Oh what have you done Nyrum?
This time those green eyes cut to his directly. “I hate raspberries. Excuse me sir,” Misou returned and pushed away from the table. He looked so beautiful as his circlet lit up in the candlelight and the blue cape swirled around him.
Nyrum stood and pushed his chair back. “Misou, wait I…” What could he say? What should he say?
“Don’t worry sir. You don’t have to say it. If you wouldn’t mind, could I at least stay the night? It’s rather late and I haven’t given word to the academy yet, so they will not have a room prepared for me.” Misou’s voice trembled and he hid his face by looking at the floor.
“What?” Nyrum’s heart beat rapidly. “Why would you go back there? We haven’t even begun lessons yet.”
Lifting his tear stained face, Misou shook his head. “I know you do this because of my father and I understand. I really do but I would rather be at the academy if I am to be ignored. At least there are more people there to make it less lonely, sir.”
“Oh, Misou…you think I do this for your father? You think I seek to bring you out here with just myself to keep you company only to ignore you?” Nyrum rounded the table and lifted Misou’s chin to his. He was so innocent and even the slightest offense was sensitive to his heart. He had been isolated his entire life and had no experience with matters of love and like. He probably thought his world was shattering when Nyrum had denied him escort---thought he’d done something terribly wrong and would be sent away.
“You should have seen Gaoi’s face when I requested your apprenticeship. He was beside himself with joy when I told him of your breakthrough. I wanted you here. I want to teach you...everything.” Nyrum thumbed away the tears under his apprentice’s eyes and felt himself harden under his robe. He wanted to taste those lips and run his hands down that untouched backside---feel the soft mounds in his palms.
Misou swallowed and looked into Nyrum’s eyes. What was the Magistrate thinking? He couldn’t decipher that look for he didn’t really know a lot of them to begin with. This look made him grow warm and hold back the urge to bite his lip. His body flushed and everything grew hot under his clothing, and then his…oh no. His manhood had hardened again. What would he do now? He had no privacy here in which to…touch himself.
“May I escort you to your room Misou?” Nyrum’s voice was thick and dark---sending a shiver up the apprentice’s spine. He found himself nodding to the hundred plus year old Warlock--- the one that had a face angels only dreamed of. “Come Misou.”
Grabbing the male’s hand, Nyrum confirmed with his body what the first lesson was to be between them. The power in the room alone had Harlow and the other servant clearing out of the room as the Magistrate gently pulled his apprentice into the open space of the foyer and then up the stairs. Every step was like a countdown and Nyrum reminded himself to breath as they neared the room the red head had painstakingly decorated to suit his young charge.
“Thank you, sir,” Misou said, attempting to pull his hand from Nyrum’s. “I think I will be alright from here. You should finish your dinner.”
“I must see you to bed. It would be wrong of me to leave you if you are not well.” The blue eyed Warlock looked down at his china doll. “Wouldn’t it?”
Misou took an unconscious step towards his teacher and Nyrum slipped an arm around his waist. Was this a spell of some sort? Misou wondered, feeling the heat rolling between them. Was there a full moon out and he was unaware? “Yes, that would be wrong.”
Without another word, Nyrum pulled Misou into the room and flicked his wrist to shut the door. Gasping at the sound, the young male turned to face the powerful Warlock with wide eyes. What were they doing, was this allowed---together and alone but not for studies? That flush deepened over his skin and Misou felt like he would faint.
“You can’t sleep in that.” Nyrum was in a trance looking at his apprentice and started to imagine layer after layer of those beautiful garments being peeled off that pale body. “They need to come off Misou.”
“But sir…I…” The brunette blushed fiercely and turned around. “But you are watching me.”
“We are both males are we not? You have nothing I have not seen before. But do not rush, I wouldn’t want you to trip or something worse,” Nyrum whispered and sat down in the chair across from Misou---the boy’s body glowing from the fire in the hearth. “Go ahead then.”
Misou was so hot and standing near the fire was torture on his already sweaty skin. Nyrum seemed content to watch him undress and the thought made Misou even warmer and…harder…down there. What would Nyrum do after Misou was nude? Would he touch him or bathe him? Oh heavens, how he wanted Nyrum to touch…his bare skin.
“Misou, you will never get to bed if you linger there in thought. Start with the cape.” Nyrum inhaled deeply and relaxed his arms---eyeing Misou from head to toe. He couldn’t wait to see everything that Misou had to offer him. By the end of the night, he intended to know just that…every part of the boy’s body..
“Yes, sir,” Misou whispered softly and pulled the tie to his cape slowly, feeling the weight around his shoulders give and slip down his body to the floor. He shivered as the heat of the flames warmed his back through his thin tunic.
“The boots next Misou. Turn around to take them off.” Nyrum was past thinking dirty, he was ready to spring from the chair but he would settle for Misou bent over with that beautiful rear faced in his direction.
“Very well.” The brunette knew now that the look in Nyrum’s eye meant Misou had pleased him because after he had completed his task with the cape, those blues eyes would sparkle then narrow but not in anger. Misou needed to please him badly if he wanted…maybe Nyrum would…he hoped his teacher would…oh heavens touch him.
Bending slowly, Misou felt the leather of his leggings pull tight over his rear and he spread his legs a little for balance. He couldn’t help but like the feeling as the leather constricted his movements while he untied his boots. Once undone and on a whim, Misou brought his hands up the back of his legs and over his backside slowly to feel the soft material under his fingers---he had to be under a spell for he had never touched himself this way before.
“Again. This time…squeeze your backside,” Nyrum commanded. With quickened breath, Misou repeated the trail with his hands and ended by gripping his own flesh and kneading his backside for a few seconds longer. “The tunic now Misou. Take it off.”
Watching the innocent male come into his own and slip off the tunic was enough to make the Magistrate’s erection seep with need. Slipping a hand into his thick robes, Nyrum pushed his fingers down the front of his leggings and gripped his leaking shaft. The pale brunette turned to his teacher and looked down at the slow movement under Nyrum’s robes. With realization, Misou hardened even further with the knowledge that not only was he pleasing his elder---Nyrum was…touching his…oh my… at the sight of him.
He had dabbled with stroking his own manhood but it had been in private. Beyond imagining of what another man looked like in the nude, Misou was clueless. But he knew when he was… hardened and right now was a perfect example. “I do not know what you wish next of me sir…” Misou shook under Nyrum’s gaze and the red head crooked his free finger at the brunette.
“Come here Misou.” And like a mouse to cheese, Misou went to his teacher. “Right here.” Nyrum patted his lap and the small male looked like he would pass out.
“But sir you are…um…you are tou...oh no…” Misou fumbled for words. Would Nyrum show him his manhood? Oh heavens! Misou wiped his forearm across his brow and whimpered under his breath.
“Yes. I am touching myself for pleasure because you please me. Do you understand Misou?” Nyrum could not believe he was being so bold with his charge but he had just watched the male strip of his appropriate attire and was eye level with a reciprocating erection…so they were even.
“You are…hard…because of me?”
“Yes Misou. Would you like to see?” Nyrum inhaled through his nose and slowly let it go, gripping his shaft tighter. The way the apprentice was looking at him was enough to make him release with the pressure of four highly aroused men.
“You would have me see you in that way? I truly please you as a...partner would?” This was Misou’s greatest desire---the hope of one day never being alone again. He had heard of this from his father but knew he would never share…a bed nor intimacy---was he had called it--- as his father was so fortunate to have.
“I wish to teach you Misou…” Nyrum was in shock and truly surprised his voice sounded as normal as it did. Misou would finally think of him in that respect? The young male really would want him as a partner? The thought had been on Nyrum’s mind since the minute he had laid eyes on Misou in the academy tower and now that he looked into a smile that wavered then fell he knew his response was the wrong one. Teach him? That was like singing his opposition to the very idea of sharing a life with Misou out loud. Teach him! Nyrum, you idiot.
“Then I am sorry Magistrate…I thought you said I…pleased you.” Misou turned and wrapped his arms around his bare chest. He didn’t know where to go or what to do now. Nyrum only desired his…hardness and that was all. He would be alone forever. Misou had been right.
“Oh Misou, I say the wrong things. You must forgive me but you caught me off guard. For I was merely happy you would speak to me again after I thought better of escorting you earlier---I thought you would not want me so. I keep messing up around you and I am the Magistrate! How I fumble as a fully powered male is beyond me but when you are around me I forget how to speak and how to act. Sometimes, my actions are horrid and I ask now that you will humble me with your forgiveness. Please, Misou for I did not mean it in the way of which you took it.” Nyrum fell to his knees from the chair and bowed before the son of the High Warlock.
Bewildered yet highly flattered, Misou crouched and reached out to touch Nyrum’s shiny red hair. “Tell me what you did mean…Nyrum.” It was a huge risk to use his teacher’s first name like that but if Nyrum meant what he said, then Misou would not be scolded for using it. But to know what his mentor had truly felt as he was on his very knees begging for forgiveness---a possible scolding was worth it.
Blue eyes glanced up and a large hand captured Misou’s smaller one. “I meant that I would teach you how we shall please each other---for I would not let another male alive touch your nude body after I did. Your bare skin would be for my eyes only just as mine would be for only your pleasure as well.”
“You would present your body to me?” Misou’s eyes widened with emotion. And that would be the highest honor of any true Warlock, even above a kiss of forgiveness from the High Warlock himself. Blushing, Misou recalled the book with the pictures detailing an exchange of bodies. Nyrum would do this to him? Oh heavens, he was growing warm again. His hardness was responding and he pressed his legs together. He did not truly understood what he had seen but Misou believed he had a vague idea.
“If you would present yourself to me in turn, then yes,” Nyrum responded carefully. This was a huge decision---one that he would have Misou fully understand before jumping into. “That was the true reason that I asked you here Misou and the reason I went to speak to your father. Although I will educate you in Warlock studies, I asked him for his permission to allow a trial with me on your behalf.”
Blue eyes flicked up and Misou’s brows rose somewhere around the ceiling. “A trial as in for…” A trial with a Warlock was only used for arranged marriages by the parents or if a male of worth wished himself upon another without their knowledge.
“Yes Misou, to see if you wished me yours…forever. A partnership.”
Misou gave a strangled cry and crushed himself to Nyrum---his thin arms wrapping around the Magistrate’s neck while his small fingers grabbed a fistful of thick hair. “You do not joke?” Misou wailed. He couldn’t believe it. Someone wanted him to love them? Someone thought him above the ground on which they walked? Someone wanted to care for him for the rest of his eternity here? And on top of that…it was Nyrum? The man he had desired night after night?
Thick arms wrapped around Misou and large hands ran the length of his bare back. “I would never joke of such. Oh, Misou will you have me?”
Pulling back to look into blue eyes on the verge of tears Misou leaned forward and swallowed. “Yes.” Then the apprentice pressed his lips to another man’s for the first time. It was strange but lovely and Misou lost himself when Nyrum pulled him into his larger lap and pressed them close. Gasping into Nyrum’s now open mouth, Misou felt his trial partner’s hardness underneath his rear and shivered.
A tongue tickled the roof of the brunette’s mouth and he pulled back in surprise. “It’s alright Misou. That is normal between us now. You may do the same to me if you wish…or did you not like it?”
Nyrum had never felt more fragile in his entire life. The being in his lap was as innocent as a babe about the ways of carnal flesh and even a kiss with tongue sent him over the edge. He did not miss the look down that Misou did and the sharp breath he took afterwards.
“Do you feel that?” Nyrum asked. “I can feel yours too. That’s a good thing, do not be ashamed.”
Misou bit his lip and pushed his hands over the Magistrate’s shoulders, testing his limits and pushed his hardness deeper into Nyrum’s lap. The reciprocating hardness underneath was larger than his own and rubbed against his backside---warming Misou’s body again. The apprentice closed his eyes and rubbed against Nyrum’s lap over and over to feel that warm friction again. How had Misou never known about this? It felt so good.
Hands palmed his rear and his eyes flicked open. “Do not stop my love. It feels good for me as well and I only wish to touch you too.”
“Okay. Can I try the…um tongue thing again?”
“I wish you would,” Nyrum whispered and accepted Misou’s mouth on his. His china doll rolled in his lap and pushed his soft tongue into Nyrum’s own mouth. It was a dream to feel his hands on the backside of his…future partner. He’d done it. He would forever be able to feel this soft hair between his fingers and feel the rapid beating of his lover’s heart against his own chest. His Misou.
He had thought getting Goai’s permission would be the tough part but the father of four was overjoyed at the pairing---claiming Nyrum a respectable male and worthy of his beautiful son. The Magistrate had embraced his superior with a few tears at the acceptance. Never in his wildest dreams would he think he might have screwed this up for good. All his fears were washed away though as he felt the joy flowing off of Misou’s body. His beautiful china doll was so happy.
“Love, I am so hard that I cannot wear these leggings any longer. For the strain is painful…is it not?” Nyrum looked down to Misou’s tight groin and the smaller male nodded with a blush. “Then if you are willing, I think it’s time that we were…nude together.” Nyrum exhaled. “Only if you want to though. If you aren’t ready, I will…leave to relieve myself.”
“No. No. Please. I just am scared Nyrum. What if you don’t like…”
Nyrum frowned. “How could I possibly not like what I see? You are beautiful Misou, impossibly so.” Then the teacher realized that Misou had never been told to his face how stunning he was. The brunette stared at him in awe and then gave a shy smile before standing from Nyrum’s lap.
“I think you are…handsome…” the boy murmured and looked over his shoulder.
Tears pricking his eyes, the Magistrate felt that knot of emotion in his stomach. He’d heard that very phrase many times before but never from the lips of someone who meant it in the purest truth. This was right between them. “Show me your body Misou. I hunger for you.”
Panting and sweating, Misou felt that word hunger all the way to his toes and untied his leather leggings---pushing them down his hips and over his rear. Bending he turned his bared backside to Nyrum and listened to the sharp breaths coming from his future partner. Rising again, he stepped out of his leggings and cupped his groin, scared to turn around.
“Misou, come here.” He heard a rustle and the sound of a heavy robe falling to the floor. Oh no. Oh heavens, Nyrum was disrobing. Misou feared he would pass out with pleasure from just looking at Nyrum’s nude body if he was to turn around. “Misou.” A hand combed through his long hair before sweeping it over his shoulder to let it drape down his chest.
With the warm fire at his front, a nude body pressed to his back---Nyrum’s hardness resting atop Misou’s backside. “Drop your hands love. I know you are scared but I promise you I will be gentle. Please.” He shook violently as the red head pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder and then licked slowly along his neck. Lips latched onto his neck and sucked causing Misou to moan and tilt his head for Nyrum---his hands fell away to reach up for his lover.
“Perfect. You are perfection my Misou,” Nyrum doted and slipped his hand to the boy’s chest---down it went, all the way to a perfectly proportioned shaft which was leaking with arousal.
“Oh! Nyrum what?” Misou screeched and grabbed onto Nyrum’s hips from behind as his future partner gripped his hardness.
“Shh. Relax, it will only get better from here. I promise you.”
“I do not think I can stand Nyrum. My legs shake so badly.” Misou’s legs were indeed shaking and the poor boy looked ready to collapse.
“Then come to bed with me, Misou and I will pleasure you all night long. If you would but only say yes.” Nyrum’s words were more than the younger male could handle and with a promise like that he collapsed against the Warlock.
“Yes, please. Show me Nyrum.” Misou managed to turn with the red head for support. His eyes looked down to at least eight inches of hardness that looked swollen and red---his gaze going back up to meet Nyrum’s.
Wordlessly, Nyrum picked up Misou and rested him on his hips---his erection automatically sliding home between the globes of Misou’s backside. “Oh, that is…what happened Nyrum?”
Like the most precious thing in the world, the Magistrate laid out of his brunette beauty on the red sheets with those little legs still wrapped around his hips. Leaning forward he kissed Misou and thrust his length against the smaller man. Prying Misou’s legs from his body, he kneeled at the edge of the bed and grabbed the perfectly pink shaft of his love and flicked his tongue over the head.
“Ungh! Oh.” The boy screamed and bit his lip, his hands trying to figure out a place on his body---rubbing over his chest, his face, gripping the sheets, anywhere.
“Watch me Misou. Watch as I put you in my mouth.” Nyrum pushed the apprentice’s legs open wider under the watchful gaze of the brunette and put his lips over the head of Misou’s erection. Grabbing Nyrum’s hair from the scalp, Misou felt himself go somewhere else. He’d never felt anything like this soft warm wetness on his privates. He knew what happened after he got excited and he was worried Nyrum wouldn’t want that in his mouth. At the same time, Misou watched every candle in the room flicker into existence---the room brightening every feature of their bodies.
Nyrum loved the length in his mouth and stroked his hands over Misou’s legs in encouragement---the male bucking wildly as his power made a rare appearance. The Magistrate could feel his china doll’s excitement fueling his Warlock powers and he smiled around Misou’s erection. All he needed was to be noticed. He had been waiting for Nyrum this entire time.
“Nyrum it’s going to happen! Please stop, it’s happening.” ‘It’, Nyrum smiled again. He wanted it in his mouth and he wanted all of it. “I cannot stop this Nyrum! Please take your mouth…Oh no!”
The Magistrate rolled his lover’s sac in his hand while swallowing the first wave of Misou’s candy flavored release. All Warlock’s had a certain smell or flavor about them and his sweet china doll tasted like taffy---thick and sugary against his tongue, sticky sweet at the roof of his mouth.
Misou was alive in a way he had never been before. His eyes shut tight before they rolled into his head in pleasure. His body shook as that fizzy tingle returned to his limbs and a heat blanketed him in a sweetly suffocating manner. His hardness tightened and jerked---a warm flood rushed and a pressure was released from his body into Nyrum’s mouth. He could not believe that his teacher would drink the sticky seed from his…Suddenly the idea aroused Misou. That his future partner would take him in such a way was…intimate. So this is what it was like. This was the source of all his desires---the man connected to his body down below.
“Misou? Love, are you alright? Misou...” Nyrum shook the boy until his eyes fluttered open then he pushed all that gorgeous hair away from the brunette’s porcelain face. “Hello there.”
“Hi.” Misou blushed and turned his face into the bed only to gasp as Nyrum covered his smaller body with his larger one and rested their groins together.
Kissing the younger male’s body, the red head swept his tongue over small nipples and one by one sucked them away from Misou’s body.
“Nyrum, oh that is…I am so warm. I can feel it growing again…oh heavens!” Misou began to run his hands over Nyrum’s body and pull on that long red hair. His lover must have enjoyed this because he would pleasure Misou further with each touch or scratch to his skin. “That feels…so good. Oh Nyrum.”
Rising above his partner, Nyrum rested his erection on Misou’s stomach for the younger male to see. Slowly he took the small hand from his side and placed it around his pulsing shaft. “Will you make me feel good too Misou?”
Nervously, the brunette tightened his small hand around the pulsing flesh. A whoosh of air and the smell of campfire made Misou look up to see a small vial in Nyrum’s hand. Tipping the glass over them both, warm oil trickled onto Nyrum’s arousal and Misou’s chest. The vial disappeared from the Magistrate’s hand.
“Stroke it slowly Misou. Squeeze a little bit more then pull up.” Nyrum instructed and Misou obeyed. Soon the boy was pumping his hand up and down with a nice rhythm and Nyrum was thrusting his hips in and out of Misou’s fist.
“Misou please let me…” He didn’t know how to ask let alone explain that he wanted to be inside of the younger male. Explaining it would only scare him away, when in reality it would be nothing but ecstasy. “I want to be…”
“I have seen the pictures. You would wish to be inside?” Misou shivered and swallowed. The room seemed to shrink with the pressure of his nerves. Would it hurt? Nyrum was so very big in his hand and his…area…was so very…oh no.
“Oh please my love. I beg you!” Even though the red head was wise of sexual acts everything felt new with his partner. He could taste their power in the air, feel the heat raping his body between them. Their coupling was beyond anything he’d ever known.
“What shall I do for you?” Misou murmured and ran his thumb over the slit of Nyrum’s hardness, unknowing of the immense pleasure it gave the Magistrate---only feeling the shiver of those thick legs wrapped around his waist.
Wasting not another moment, Nyrum moved down between Misou’s legs and dipped his fingers in the oil covering the porcelain chest before him. “You will not feel anything but pleasure, I promise. Pull your knees to your chest and hold them there.” Hesitantly, the apprentice pulled his knees up and exposed his most intimate place to his teacher.
“Nyrum, I am scared…” In answer to his love’s fear, the red haired Warlock rubbed two warm oiled fingers over the virginal opening now open to him. “Oh, oh…” Misou breathed over and over, like his breath was a song---the oil and a whispered incantation from Nyrum taking away any pain that the beautiful could experience. Glistening under his touch, the Magistrate pushed his thick fingers into his partner’s entrance and watched Misou’s mouth open in a swallowed moan.
That night Misou was well educated in the art of carnal pleasures and Nyrum found something that magic could not hold a candle to---Love.
~~~~~Six Months Later~~~~~~
Grabbing his dark green robes and breaking into a dead run, Misou covered the cobblestone path in seconds, his hair loose and flying behind him with a huge smile on his face. Harlow barely opened the door for his master before Misou flew through the entry way and down the foyer leaving a gust of air behind him.
“Nyrum! Oh Nyrum!” He yelled and came to a panting stop in the Magistrate’s study. The red head had his legs crossed up on the desk and the sunny room smelled of freshly smoked Hyta leaves---a pipe still smoking on the desk. Misou grinned and put his hands behind his back, waiting for his partner to look up from the ancient text in his lap.
Slowly a grin spread over Nyrum’s face as he pretended to read the history of herbal medicines and magicks. “Well?” He asked, turning a page for dramatic effect.
“I feel that I have failed you my partner. For we spent all night conjuring elements and maybe my body was tired and drained of power…” Misou pouted with a sparkle in his eye. Nyrum stiffened with disbelief.
He slammed the book shut and looked up with shock, not even taking in the color of Misou’s robe. There was no way he could’ve failed the elemental portion of the Warlock exam. They had practiced every night for weeks and Misou had excelled in conjuring fire, creating storms of wind and rain, bringing trees forth from the ground…how could this be?
“Oh I can’t stand to see that look on your face.” Misou bit his lip and brought the black scroll out from behind his back. “I passed!”
“Misou!” Nyrum jumped up from his chair and tossed the heavy book on the desk. “Come here!” He had been so worried for his partner---not being allowed to attend the testing as no partner or family member could be present, the High Warlock included. “I am so proud my love.”
Misou flicked his finger and the robe tied at his neck unwound, letting the lush green fabric fall to the ground. “Wait, I’ve been practicing this!” The younger male said with excitement.
“What are you up to my china doll?” The red head narrowed his eyes playfully and Misou bit his lip, closing his eyes in concentration.
Slowly but surely the new Warlock’s clothing began to fall away like a whirl of sand and color around his body. It was a complicated hands free spell and the former apprentice had indeed been practicing. Within seconds, Misou was completely nude and with a flick of his wrist the study doors shut and locked.
Nyrum looked his partner up and down with hunger. “We’re you hoping for something other than a hug?’ Everytime he looked at Misou nude, he thought back to that first night together---the way his love had screamed and scratched his back in pleasure, the way his little legs had gripped Nyrum’s waist until he couldn’t breathe. Misou was stunning and only grew in his beauty to Nyrum.
“Well, I guess I shall have to wait for another powerful Warlock to take me then.” Misou teased and walked to the desk, gripping the edge and bending at the waist. “I hope he shall take me as good as you do, for I have been hot all day for your touch. But…if you are too busy, then I will have to go and find…”
“No more!” Nyrum growled and pulled his green tunic over his head. “Oh I’ll take you my china doll. I shall make you break glass with your screams my love. I hope that’s what you meant by good.” Closing his eyes, the red head dissolved his clothing and grabbed Misou’s hair in his fist. “Is that what you want my love? “
“Yes, oh please Magistrate.” Wiggling his backside along the newly exposed…erection behind him, Misou moaned his need.
“Then say it. Say it loud. You promised me.”
Misou took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder. “I am a Warlock.”
“I…am a Warlock.”
“Louder!” Nryum let his power loose and Misou’s erection sprung against the desk.
“I am a Warlock!” Misou cried and Nyrum pulled those fleshy globes apart.
“Yes Misou. You are.” And with that, the Magistrate filled his partner full---every window in the study breaking with Misou’s screams of pleasure.