Wild Sorcery - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Infernal Sacrifice of the Lost Wraith

A huge bell tolled, and suddenly every one was going in the same direction. Helpless to fight the flow of people, myself and my captive went with them.

“Where are they going?” I asked of the Stone Sorceress, rhetorically.

Being gagged, she couldn’t give me much of an answer, but she brushed up against me, moaning softly and brushing her pussy against my leg.

After a few minutes of walking with the crowd, I detected a pattern of motion and led my captive sorceress to the edge of the flow, being careful not to attract attention. Fortune ironically smiled on me, for anywhere else a woman wearing a skin-tight gleaming black leather bodysuit and leading another woman naked and bound on a leash would have stood out so there would be no hiding them. Here, though, it was only slightly unusual, and nobody - not the slaves of all races, not the Doom Children, and not the Demons Of The Blind Avatar would have raised question.

In that rush, even if any were inclined to question us, there was no chance. Within moments, we entered into a grand arena in the center of the Sorcerer's Fortress. I spotted a space where I could have a better view, and pulled the Stone Sorceress up after me. The Doom Children and the Demons Of The Blind Avatar were disposed about the walls of the room. The other servants and slaves of the sorcerers poured into the arena surrounding a high circular stage on which the Sorcerers stood. They themselves stood in a circle about a being who was bound to a tall iron arch. I gasped in recognition. It was a Wraith.

Even from where I stood, I could see that the Wraith’s silver eyes glowed with a peculiar genius like those of some brilliant inventor. Her form was very sleek, like a bird, with a small breasts and a very narrow waist. She had short, curly, coffee-colored hair with bangs artistically framing her face. She hung in the center of the arch, which was really a circle of iron inset with  jewels and precious metals. Her arms and legs were held in iron chains that glowed with magical runes, stretching her thin body as far as it could go.

Darth Vadake stood directly before her, dressed in robes of blood red. In his right hand he held up an ancient obsidion dagger while he chanted loud and low. The other sorcerers chanted with him. They were sacrificing the Wraith to oblivion for greater power. Less obvious was what they meant to do with that power.

But I had an informant. I turned to the Stone Sorceress and unbuckled her gag. “Don’t cry out or I’ll kill you,” I said warningly, then pulled it free with a pop.

She spent a moment gasping and working her jaw. Having spent my own time wearing the gag, I could sympathize, but there was no time for that.

“What is the purpose of this ritual?” I demanded. “What do they hope to achieve? They mean to kill the Wraith for power, that is obvious. But for what purpose?”

She licked her lips, and grinned. “The death of the Wraith will give to us the power to rend a hole in reality, creating a hole through which the power of the Wyrd will flow. Here, in the center of our fortress, we will create an unparrallelled source of power with which we shall be able to conquer the world-MMph!” she grunted as I pushedthe gag back in.

I had learned what I needed to know, and was in no mood to hear the Stone Sorceress’ maniacal rantings. She, however, was certainly in the mood for something else, which she announced by brushing her breasts against me. She glanced pleadingly up at me and whimpered through her gag. Remembering the hot fires of passion that had roared through me when I was first transformed, it took no great intellect to understand what it was that she wanted.

But, fun as it would have been, I had no time togive it to her. The arena walls were rough-finished, with many iron stanchions and braces. Looking about, I found a short iron upright post by the wall. I led my lusty captive over to it, then wrapped her leash about the stanchion.

“Can’t have you going anywhere,” I told her.

She rubbed herself against me, moaning pleadingly. So I grabbed her about the waist and shoved her over so her pussy pushed against the upright pole. I slipped a finger down to her mound and gave her a quick rub. Her knees shook and she moaned, leaning against me for support. I pushed her back against the iron pole. She moaned, shaking and shivering and arching her back so the cold shaft could rub against her nether lips.

“Mhmmm!” she moaned, closing her eyes with pleasure.

As I released her, she continued humping the pole. She looked at me undecided, shivering, then she gave a strangled cry and humped the pole again. She pumped herself up and down, grinding her naked pussy against the post as if her life depended on it. She moaned and cried, her muffled cries rising louder and louder as she drove herself toward a climax.

“Have fun!” I called to her, starting away. “I have to go stop the ritual.”

As I prepared to plunge into the crowd, she started to do just that.

Continued in Chapter 31