Chapter 1: The Shaman's Desires

Note: Thanks to b0b for beta reading this!

Knave Angela – The Mirage Gardens

The barrier shimmered, a curtain of writhing, boiling air separating the extra-dimensional pocket, as Faoril described it, containing the Mirage Garden from the real world. I gave a last look at the mouldering stone and rotten furniture scattered throughout the room. Without Riad, the efreet who made this place his home, it had lost much of its appeal. He had used illusions to create a fantastic world, a heady place of sensual pleasure and exotic desires.

But he was dead, killed by my blade. He had possessed the bottom third of the High King’s blade, my distant ancestors sword and symbol of his authority. It was shattered after his death and the collapse of his empire. The pieces were then scattered across the known world. I had four pieces—pommel, hilt, and two-thirds of the blade. Only the point remained, located in Drakin Castle. But before we could recover it, we had to sail to Grahata and kill the Minotaur, the beastly demigod who dwelt in the grand labyrinth beneath the city.

His heart would power the spell to repair the god-forged blade. Then I could kill the dragon Dominari and end my quest.

I had no idea what would happen after that. We were fugitives, bounties placed on our heads by the Doge of Raratha for breaking into his Great Vault to recover the pommel and for assaulting his person. The bounty for our capture, dead or alive, was staggering. 5000 dupondius for my head, a 1000 for my companions.

Faoril, Thrak, Xandra, Chaun, Minx, Xera, and most especially Sophia had supported me on my quest. They stuck with me after the bounty or still decided to aide me despite it in Xandra’s case. We had suffered and fought together. After the dragon was dead, we would find a way to survive together.

If we slew the dragon.

“What are we waiting on?” Minx asked, her small stature weighted down by the treasure looted from Riad’s stronghold. His house may be rotten by age, covered over by illusions, but gold didn’t tarnish. And he had a lot of gold. More than we could carry.

I hated looting, but our pirate captain would need more treasure to hold her silence. And no doubt I would be expelled from my order, attainted for my crimes in Raratha, so I would have no access to additional funds for my quest. Travel came with all manner of expenses, and my purse had grown lean.

“Yes, let us go,” Yasmine said, the ebony-skinned woman, dressed in transparent silks revealing her lush body. She was one of the three human “wives” of Riad, part of his harem. Most the women were jinn, who fled upon his death, but Yasmine, Nadiyya, and Asma were left behind. They deserved a cut of the treasure after being stolen by Riad and drugged into believing they were his wives.

Like Sophia and Xandra had been.

My wicked acolyte had been relieved to discover her magic intact. She was lucky Riad had chosen to take Xandra first, fucking the slender, Avian girl in the form of her own husband, Chaun. Sophia had sworn an oath to her goddess Saphique, and even in her drugged state, where she had lost her self-control, the very touch of a man’s cock would break that connection. The young avian stood silent, her thin body seemed even smaller, pulled in as she stared at her feet. She had hardly said a word since Chaun and I defeated Riad, even to her changeling husband.

“Yes, enough dawdling,” Minx said, her bag shifting. The halfling thief’s metallic-red hair glinted as she shook her head. “This is heavy.”

“You shouldn’t have taken so much gold then,” Xera said, the elf standing tall beside Minx, naked as always, her dark-green hair falling about her slender shoulders. Only Thrak the orc stood taller than Xera.

“I wanted to take it all,” Minx said, lust in her voice.

“What is wrong, my Queen?” Sophia whispered. My acolyte, lover, and sex slave stood beside me, staring at me with her green eyes and innocent face framed by brown hair. She wore her white robes again. I carried them into the Mirage Gardens when we came to rescue her.

“Nothing,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Just reflecting on the road ahead.” We had to journey across the Halani Desert back to the city of Hargone at the mouth of the Elbe River, sail across the Nimborgoth to the island city of Grahata, slay the Minotaur, sail south to the Kemoh River and follow that into the Haunted Forest where Drakin Castle lurked. Then back north, across the Nimborgoth again, and into the Princedoms of Zeutch where we would find the Altar of Souls. Upon the altar, we would reforge the sword. It lay in the shadow of the Despeir Mountains and the Desolation of Dominari.

Then we would kill the dragon.

“Let’s go. I am sure Aswunt will be happy to see our return after the fierce attack.” Aswunt was the caravan master we had agreed to guard on his journey south so he could guide us into the desert. Our plan to enter the Mirage Garden had gone awry—Riad was supposed to take me. But we had prevailed.

Sophia took my hand. I smiled, comforted by her. It was hard for me to believe she had once been such a stuck-up, bratty girl. The months had changed her. Together, we stepped through the curtain and into the Halani Desert. The sands were gray, the eastern horizon growing pink as dawn approached.

“I guess we were in there longer than I thought,” Chaun said when he stepped out, his arm around his wife. Her sky-blue hair fell about her downcast face. “But we’re free.” He said it to Xandra.

She remained silent.

Concern flashed across his midnight-black face. It contrasted with his silvery hair. He was a slim man, and so handsome he verged on the beautiful. Even Xera found him attractive, and the hermaphroditic elf had disdained human, and orc, males.

“Where’s the caravan?” Thrak rumbled as he stepped out, sweeping his gaze around the featureless dunes.

“There are our belongings.” Faoril pointed to a pile of saddlebags, half-covered in sand.

“Did they break camp before dawn and leave?” I frowned, scanning around, looking for tracks in the desert. There should be evidence of them. “Since when did Aswunt leave before dawn.”

Xera’s head studied the skies, the stars fading, retreating, then she glanced at the horizon, her eyebrows furrowing and her long, pointed hears twitching. The flecks of gold speckling the four-leaf clover tucked behind her right ear glittered.

“It is the Autumn Equinox, Angela,” Xera said. “The sun is rising in the right spot, and the stars are aligned correctly.”

“That’s not possible,” Chaun spluttered. “We weren’t in there more than a few hours. I’m shocked it is even dawn.”

“Three days?” Sophia said. “How were we in there three days?”

“Time did not have to flow at the same rate in the pocket dimension as out here,” answered Faoril. A wind arose, flapping the sleeves of her red robes.

“So Aswunt continued on when we didn’t return,” I groaned. “Did he leave us any food?”

A hurried search of our supplies revealed no food. He had looted the travel rations we had and our waterskins, but had left our personal items undisturbed. I was shocked he had done that much. Maybe it was the custom of the desert.

“It was a day’s ride on camel from the last oasis,” Xera said.

“You can find it?” I asked her.

“Yes, but without water...” Her words trailed off, her eyes flicking to the rising sun.

It would get hot. Very hot. Seasons did not touch the Halani Desert—it was always summer.

“Water is not a problem,” Faoril said. “I have my magic. But we will have to walk. I can do nothing about the lack of food.”

“We don’t have to walk,” Xandra said, her voice a whisper, strained. She still looked down, her hands folded. “I can summon elementals for us to ride.”

She moved to the pile of belongings and found her belt pouch. She opened it, wood clunking as she dug through it. She produced a piece of wood carved with straight lines running in parallel across its polished surface. She knelt, stroking it, her eyes closed.

The ground rumbled. Mounds of sand lifted around her. Stones ground and groaned. Yellow-gray sand spilled away as the bedrock beneath the desert thrust up and climbed out. Creatures vaguely the shape of horses or camels, made out of a red stone with strias of grays and browns, rose on thick, ponderous legs. Sweat broke out on Xandra’s forehead as her mounts shook the sand from their bodies.

There were four of them.

“We will have to ... ride three to an elemental,” she said, rising and wiping sweat from her brow. “They have agreed to carry us.”

“How did she do that?” one of the Halani women asked. “Is she a witch?”

“Shaman,” Chaun answered, pride in his voice.

He loved her. When I met Chaun, he was the epitome of the carefree seducer, the man who bedded woman after woman, never staying with one for more than a night, always off to his next conquest. A carouser. And then Xandra had danced for him and wedded him. He hadn’t even realized it, but something about her gentle soul, her innocent nature, had beguiled the changeling.

Just like the Lesbius Oracle had proclaimed, he would lose his heart. And she had found it.

Warlock Faoril – The Halani Desert

“You’re not very loquacious today,” I said as I sat before Thrak on our shared mount. I only had to share the elemental mount with Thrak. The three Halanian women had one; Chaun, Xandra, and Minx another; Sophia and Angela the last. Only Xera walked, her dainty elf feet glided across the sand, leaving no footprints. Thrak would have preferred walking, but he couldn’t keep up with his heavy feet sinking into the loose sand.

Thrak answered me with a grunt.

“Riad played us all cruel, I think. Except Minx.”

“You especially,” Thrak said.

I leaned back into my lover’s broad, swarthy chest. My orc barbarian could talk philosophy with the greatest of intellects. Normally, we had such stimulating conversations as we traveled, discussing a wide-range of subjects. But it was past noon, and he had said hardly a word.

“You saw mine,” I continued. I shuddered, remembering the horror and bitter grief I had felt when I thought I killed Thrak with my magic. Riad was a bastard. He saw into my mind, learned my greatest fear, and weaponized it. “How did he torment you?”

“He let me save my wife,” Thrak answered after a moment.

I bit my lip. He loved Serisia greatly. She was a Thosian human, like myself, who met Thrak when he studied at the College of Allenoth, the first orc to ever attend its hallowed halls. She had returned to the orc lands as his wife. But a rival tribe to Thrak’s Red Eyes had taken her, raped her, and killed her.

Thrak blamed himself. He believed he wasn’t strong enough to protect her. He abdicated his position as chieftain, handing it to his brother, and wallowed in grief until Serisia’s spirit prodded him into activity by showing him he could love another woman.

Me.

“I killed all the Ghost Wolves who brutalized her,” he said, voice a thick growl, arms tightening around me. “Just like I did after she died. I raged. I ripped them apart. I felt their blood splash across my body. I savored their screams.”

“Only this time she was still alive.”

“I took her, used her to calm the rage.” Thrak’s voice was thick, gravelly. I knew what that was like. He was a berserker. He could enter a dissociative fugue state, his rational mind locked up behind his primal emotions, primarily rage. But lust could also overcome him. In the rage, he would kill anything, even friends.

He hated it. Feared it.

“I had her back,” Thrak said. “She was alive, just how I remembered her. She drove away the rage with her body, held me, loved me.”

Tears beaded in my eyes. “And you had to choose. You heard my crying in grief and you abandoned her to come to me.”

“Yes.” He said the words with such bitter self-loathing. “I knew she wasn’t real, and yet...”

“She was. Riad had skill with his illusions.” I bit my lip. “I am sorry, Thrak. I never would want you to choose between us. I know you love us both. How cruel of him.”

“I wish I had killed him,” Thrak snarled. “I wanted to rage, to rip apart the Mirage Gardens and murder him.”

“Only you might hurt one of your friends.”

“I might have hurt you.”

“You would never hurt me,” I answered. “I know how to calm your rages, too.”

“Only if you were ready. What if I caught you unaware? In that place...” His arms tightened.

“I’ll find a way to root it out of your mind, to tame the rage,” I promised him. “There has to be a way to use magic. Life magic would be the best. I could...” My words trailed off, my eyebrows furrowing.

“You had an idea.”

“Maybe,” I said, trembling, my stomach churning. Could I really use that magic again? Could I find away to use it beneficially, and not...

I must be mad for even considering it.

Xerathalasia

It hurt to swallow. My lips were parched. Faoril could precipitate water out of the air, but it wasn’t as much as we needed. It kept us alive, but everyone drooped as the sun sank on the horizon. Chaun half-slumped against his frail wife, who swayed in his embrace. Before them, Minx looked shrunken, her face flushed.

But I could smell it in the air. Water. Life. The oasis neared. It kept me walking forward. Despite it being the first day of autumn, it was still hotter than a summer day in the Deorc Forest. The sun hammered at us, even with Sophia’s protective magics guarding our flesh.

I led the strange, elemental mounts up the dune, the wind rising. The desert had changed much since we had passed by here only four days back. But I knew how to navigate by the position of the sun, and I had led us straight. The scent of water and rich loam grew stronger, carried over the top of the dune by the wind. My steps quickened. I reached the top.

And sighed in relief.

The Uchmehn Oasis spread out before us, an island of life amid the dead sands. Green date trees and bushes spread out from the large pool of blue water shining in the center. It looked so lush compared to the desert, but in the Deorc forest it would be almost barren.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Sophia moaned when her mount crested the dunes.

Minx let out a chortle of delight. The others stirred. Xandra did something to the elementals, spurring them to move faster than their plod. The stones grated together as they raced down the dunes. I followed, my long legs stretching, my large breasts bouncing as I danced across the surface of the sand.

The sight of water had invigorated everyone. They all stirred. Faoril pushed back her red hood, delight on her eyes. Angela sat straight again, her shield arm no longer drooping but holding her kite shield up while Sophia bounced in the saddle.

Somehow, Minx was the first to reach the waters. She leaped from the head of her mount as it crashed through the shrubbery to reach the pool. Her small body flew through the air. She tucked her legs into her chest, forming a little ball, and crashed into the water with a laugh and a loud splash. She burst up from the surface a moment later, bronze skin glistening, metallic-red hair clinging to her skull.

“Oh, this is wonderful,” she smiled.

I smiled back as I reached the water’s edge, stepping in, feeling the cool liquid lap at my feet. Minx splashed me, acting like the child she was often mistaken for. She laid back, her clothing clinging wet to the curves of her diminutive body.

The others clambered in, Thrak dunking his head in from shore, Sophia’s white robes growing half-transparent, clinging to her slim body as she burst out of the water, a huge smile on her face. Even Xandra showed an emotion other than haunted loss as she stepped into the oasis. She let out a trilling, wordless song as beautiful as any bird, letting out her joy and relief.

We had made it to water. We would make it out of the desert.

Acolyte Sophia – Uchmehn Oasis, Halani Desert

“See, isn’t it great that we took the gold,” I told Angela as she walked in. I lay on my new pillow in our new tent, my stomach full of the food we had purchased from the trading post on the far side of the oasis. The locals had stared at us with amusement as we bathed and glutted on the water of the oasis.

But they understood what the desert could do to a person.

“Indeed,” Angela nodded.

She wasn’t alone. She had led in Nadiyya, the bustiest of the three Halanian women we had rescued, into the tent. The ebony-skinned woman had a round face and lush lips. My hips wiggled at the sight of her beauty.

“Ooh, are we having a lot of fun tonight, my Queen?”

“Yes, indeed,” Angela nodded. I loved her so much, especially when she dominated me. “And I found the most curious thing. The desert tribesmen use them on their women as a form of punishment.”

Nadiyya giggled. “Though many women secretly like them, and their men secretly like using them.”

“Naughty,” I purred, a tingle running through my pussy. “I do love being discipline. But have I been naughty?”

“You let Riad kidnap you,” Angela said, her voice stern, but there was a playful glint in her blue eyes. “He almost claimed you and fucked you. And no man gets to fuck my concubine without my permission.”

I shuddered. I knew she would never command me to sleep with a man, but it still excited me that she could. It would be the ultimate test of my submission to bear the brutish lust of a man, to forever lose my connection to my goddess Saphique. A part of me, strangely, wanted it. To prove to her that she owned me.

I rubbed my thighs together. “You were right, Mistress. I was so bad. So wicked for letting the efreet take me and Xandra. I lured her off so I could enjoy her body. I was so naughty. I didn’t ask for permission.”

“And we had to rescue you,” Angela continued. “We had to face all the dangers because you couldn’t control your lusts.”

I shuddered, loving how stern she sounded. She wore a loose robe, her armor stripped off. It was made of white linen, her red hair glowing bright against it. The fabric was thin, her hard nipples, topping her large breasts, were pink shadows through it.

“Yes, yes, I am such a wanton slut,” I moaned. “I’m so wet right now, my Queen. I want to ravish you and Nadiyya. You both have such large breasts. I want to play with them.”

“See how wicked she is,” Angela said to Nadiyya.

“I do,” Nadiyya grinned. “How can you control such a wicked, lustful woman?”

“With great difficulty. She always finds new ways to be naughty.” Angela’s hands unknotted the ties of her robe. It fell open, revealing her pillowy breasts, flat stomach, and shaved snatch. Dew glistened on her petals.

I licked my lips.

Nadiyya followed, her breasts almost as large, her fat nipples dark-brown, a lighter hue than her ebony skin. She was almost as dark as Chaun, and far more feminine. She let out a purr as her robe slipped off her shoulders and fell to the tent’s canvas floor. She had a line of black hair marching to her shaved pussy, hints of pink flesh peeking out of dark folds.

“I am ready to be punished, my Queen.”

“Nadiyya, attach the devices.”

I squirmed, naked, my pussy growing wetter and wetter as Angela stood over me, tall and strong, a proud queen ordering her concubine slaves to serve and please her. I shuddered as Nadiyya was quick to obey, her hands clutched tight around something.

What? They couldn’t be big if they fit in her hands.

The dark-skinned girl knelt beside me. Her left hand cupped my small, right breast, ebony fingers squeezing ivory flesh. She leaned over and flicked her tongue across my pink nipple, bringing a gasp from me. I groaned, my back arching, savoring the thrill of her tongue swirling and licking about my nub, teasing me, driving me wild.

She got me hard and erect then opened her clenched, right hand. She held two brass instruments that looked like small clamps, the mouths jagged with triangular teeth that fit together perfectly. She squeezed the ends, and the jaws opened. She brought it to my nipple.

Those looked sharp. “My queen,” I said, a catch in my voice as the jaws surrounded my nipple. I glanced at Angela, her blue eyes stern.

And I relaxed. I knew it would hurt, but it wouldn’t harm me. She would never harm me. I trusted her. I gave her the slightest nod. “Clamp her.”

“Slata’s hairy cunt!” I cursed as pain exploded in my poor nipple. The clamp bit into my nub, shooting pain as it pinched it hard. My entire body thrashed as the agony shot from my breast. My toes curled.

And my pussy clenched.

It was wonderful pain. It heightened my excitement even as I gasped and moaned, struggling to regain my composure. My nipple throbbed painfully with every beat of my heart. I squirmed, my tongue piercing clacking into the back of my teeth.

And then Nadiyya brought the second clamp to my left nipple. Her tongue licked it first, giving me a moment of pleasure. And then agony. I screamed even louder. My eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking down my cheeks.

Fire burned in my pussy.

“I’m so sorry, my Queen,” I gasped as I writhed. The pain was intense. They both throbbed so much. I wanted to rip off the clamps even as I savored the heightened excitement the pain brought. “I was such a bad slave. I deserve this.”

“You do,” Angela purred. She bent down, fishing in my pouch, and pulled out my dildo made of black marble streaked with white veins. It was polished to a glossy sheen. “Stick this in her cunt.”

Nadiyya took it, a smoky smile on her lips. Her large breasts swayed as she moved the dildo down between my thighs. She didn’t check to see if I was wet—I was soaked—and thrust it into my depths. My back arched. Pleasure rippled through me. I almost came as the intense bliss rippled through my cunt. My nipples throbbed and ached, feeding to the wonderful delight churned in my pussy. My flesh clamped on it.

“The dildo does not come out,” Angela ordered. “And you do not cum.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I moaned.

“On your knees, slut.”

I shifted, clenching with my pussy to hold onto the dildo. That only made me more aware of its thick shaft. It shifted slightly, rubbing at my walls, shooting bliss through my body and making my nipples ache more. On my knees, the clamps’ weight pulled downward, stretching my nipples, adding more pain to my building excitement.