Sovereign Magus
Copyright© 2026 by TechnicDragon
Chapter 4
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 4 - Having secured his inheritance, Seth returns home to continue his education and take up his responsibilities to house Ursae. His biggest personal concerns are finding a new place to live and replacing those things he lost - both with which his Fonti are happy to help. When an accident happens, Seth must question his ability to lead, and what he might need to do to keep his promises to those who depend on him.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Consensual Drunk/Drugged Heterosexual Fiction Magic Oral Sex Big Breasts Size
When we arrived at the warehouse, everyone else’s vehicles were already present, including Tanner’s motorcycle. Without any preamble, Angela and I got out of the car and Trudi followed. I led the way into the front office. Over the last few weeks, someone had taken the liberty to clean it up and furnish it. There were two sofas, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, and a set of shelves with various books and magazines. The office was warm enough for everyone to forgo their coats. Several were already hanging on hooks, and these two stopped to do the same. I finally got to see what they wore.
Angela was in a white blouse that looked too tight across her bust, which was probably why she had it unbuttoned down to the base of her cleavage. Just below was a black belt looped around a tight skirt that followed her hips to her knees. I didn’t see anything on her legs, but she had on black heels. She looked good, both for heading out to dinner, or stopping in at an office for work.
Trudi, however, seemed to take the fun aspect to an extreme. She wore a very thin t-shirt that loosely fit her bulging breasts and hung only a few inches below. As she moved around, her breasts wiggled and wobbled, making the edges of her shirt dance about. She also wore a short, denim skirt with a leather belt, and cowboy boots. She caught me looking at her and smiled. “Don’t worry, Precious,” she said, giving her boobs a good shake. “I’ll save a dance for you.” Then she spun on her heel and bounced off toward the warehouse.
I looked at Angela, who only stared back at me with an odd expression. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but she said nothing and followed Trudi. Nothing in the universe confused me more than the minds of women. I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts straight, and followed them.
The inner warehouse was flooded with lights and music. It felt like a party. Trudi danced her way toward the others, and Angela waited for me to enter before hooking her arm through mine as I walked in. She made it feel like we were arriving together at a high school dance - something in which I never participated.
Trudi bounced around in a circle. It was fun to watch. Then Angela pressed my arm into the side of her breast. I looked at her and she offered a faint smile - another rarity.
As we approached the others, I could see that Daphne and Francine had also brought a fonte each, Tiffany Travers and Laurel Broadhurst respectively.
Daphne stood in the center of the warehouse, wearing a light blue tube dress that started just above her ripe breasts and stopped only a couple of inches below her alluring ass. She held up her arms and looked about at the lights. I noticed how the dance of the lights and tempo of the music followed her slightest gestures. She was the conductor and the light and sound were her symphony.
Francine grinned at me across the way. She wore a thin denim dress that seemed to start just below her magnificent breasts and hugged her all the way down to her creamy thighs. Her breasts were covered by wide twin straps similar to a halter that flowed up and behind her neck.
Next to Francine was Tiffany. She danced too, holding her arms up above her head and letting her boobs shimmy and shake inside the low-cut, square neckline of her cobalt blue dress. When she spotted me watching her, she spun on the spot, making the skirt flair out, showing off her fantastic legs.
Finally, there was Laurel. She was more reserved in her dancing, only sashaying back and forth, making her skirt flare out a bit. The neckline was a bit loose, like a cowl, but her bust filled it so much that there wasn’t much loose material left. She didn’t notice that Angela and I had arrived.
Seeing all the women, especially how they were dressed, I felt underdressed, until I spotted Tanner. He wore his usual biker paraphernalia: jeans, boots, t-shirt, and leather vest. “That’s enough for now,” Tanner yelled over the music as he approached.
Several women pouted their displeasure, but Daphne dropped her hands and the music and lights stopped.
Tanner looked at me and Angela. “You two are late.”
I nodded. “I apologize. I only just learned about the change of schedule.”
“Right,” he growled. “On to business. First, ladies, would you be kind enough to go wait in the office. We’ll come and get you in a bit.”
Trudi, Tiffany, and Laurel all looked around at their respective Magi, who all nodded. Without a word of complaint, the three walked back to the office. It seemed somehow cold to dismiss them like that.
Tanner waited until the door was shut. “Today is an important day because some of you will no longer need training, while others will continue to work with me.”
I thought, since I started earlier than the others, this would be my last day. “Don’t be too hard on them. They’re newer at this than I am.”
Tanner turned and stared at me. “They’re not the ones who need further training.”
I frowned, looked at the girls, and then at Tanner. “What do you mean? Why do I need more training?”
“Because you’re a House Lord,” he said and not a word more.
I understood that I had responsibilities and such, but magical training because I was a House Lord? It was news to me. I shrugged and nodded. “Okay.”
“Today’s lesson is a ritual to track or swap fonti.”
The idea of what he said struck me as wrong, just like how he asked them to leave. “We’re not talking baseball cards here,” I said. “They’re people.”
“Yes, but occasionally, you may find it necessary to do this.”
“As in, if we’re not satisfied with the fonti we have?” Daphne asked.
I didn’t gesture or make a crude face, but Daphne seemed to expect it. I shrugged instead and asked, “Wouldn’t it be better to sever the bond?”
Tanner held up his hands. “Hold on, both of you. Now, while the name was derived from the original purpose of the ritual, several uses are possible. All I’m going to do is teach you the core spell and how to transfer a bound person or object from another Magus to yourself.”
To me, that was different. Yes, the name threw me, but understanding the principle and how to cast the core spell allowed me to modify it to whatever purpose I might need - like taking certain magic items from a certain magus.
Tanner turned to the women. “I noticed each of you brought a fonte.” Then he turned to me. “I take it no one informed you?”
“Correct,” I said.
“Actually,” Daphne said, “We elected not to tell him because all of his fonti are women.”
Tanner looked around with a furrowed brow. “But, you have women.”
“Yes,” Francine said, “and while we do enjoy their company and touch, we like men too.”
“Right,” Tanner said.
I blinked at them. “Wait, I’m going to transfer all three of them to myself?”
The girls nodded and Tanner said, “Seems that is correct.”
Another thought occurred to me. “Does trading fonti involve the same principles as forging a bond for a fonte?”
“You catch on quick, Seth,” he said.
“But you said this is for transferring objects too,” I said. “I seriously doubt I need to have sex with an object to transfer it, do I?”
“No, you do not,” He said. “All I’m going to teach you today is how to lay your mark on the person or object you’re going to transfer.” He then turned and swept his arm in open space. Four chalkboards appeared with chalk and erasers.
“Wait,” I said, suddenly worried. “I have to draw my mark?”
He looked at me. I could tell he was beginning to lose his patience. “Yes, that’s why I summoned the chalkboards.”
“How accurate does the drawing have to be?”
“Very,” he said. “With the wrong mark, the spell will fail. Why?”
I waved at my mark, making it visible to everyone.
Tanner frowned and stepped closer. “Huh,” he grunted. “That has got to be the most chaotic mess I’ve ever seen. A magi’s mark is usually elegant, made of geometric or detailed shapes that the owner finds easy to draw.”
I sighed. “Lovely, one more thing to set me apart.”
Tanner glanced at the board closer to me and pointed at it. The frame bounced on its legs and the board rotated so it was taller than wide. Then he placed the palm of his right hand over my mark and made a throwing motion at the board with his left hand. A larger copy of my mark appeared on the board, even though my mark was still on my chest.
He stepped over to the board, studying the larger version. “It’s as I thought,” he said. “Your mark isn’t a mess, but a vastly complex weave of symbols one on top of the other, layer after layer.” Then he shook his head. “I have never seen anything like this.”
I had always thought my mark was a smear, like someone had used a hand-ful of mud on me to make my mark. Seeing it blown up so I could see the details, I realized that Tanner was right. Every conceivable geometric shape and variation were included in my mark. I was hard pressed to understand why.
Tanner looked at me. “You don’t understand, do you?”
I continued studying the shapes. “No, I don’t.”
“Most magi have an ingrained knack for certain types of magic. The shape reflects that knack. Your shape suggests you are capable of performing all types of magic, and very likely types of magic no one else can use.”