Our story began here.

Take three

Erin was naked but for her stockings and a light bodice-halter; her usual attire in Dniester’s quarters these days, or so it seemed to her. It was decidedly chilly within the Ivory Tower as she knelt in position bent across the saddle stool and her knees were beginning to hurt. This time Dniester had decided to keep her waiting as he, what, contemplated her bare bottom? She doubted it. Her mentor was above such things. However, that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

Dniester sat back at his desk and pondered his response. Not how he would address Erin Stone, her fate was already sealed, but how he would proceed with Amber Sage, who had put him in his current predicament.

After years of resigning himself to certain way of life he was disappointed. Despite his rather robust approach with the girl, he had supposed that Erin had respected him. Now he found that she was still unduly influenced by Amber. He was angry, not with the girl or Amber, but with himself. He had failed.

He had expressly forbidden Erin from pursuing Wild Magic. He had made it clear to her that she needed to study the tenets of thaumatology and given her progress in this area; he had assumed he had been obeyed. Now he found that Erin had been working with Amber on the study of demons.

Glancing up he took in Erin’s marble-white defiant bottom thrusting back at him as she waited for the cane. Was there any point, he wondered, if he could not keep his charge from such monumental folly, then what good was he?

Looking down at his gnarled time-ravaged hands he saw evidence of his great age. Did longevity bring experience or just destruction? Was his mind and soul now as jaded as his hands. Held the twisted sticks of flesh and bone out before him as if seeing them anew; how could anyone yield to one so frail? The index finger of his right hand was white at the tip; a mark of creeping numbness caused by the poor circulation of old age.

If I sit still for long enough, will I at last petrify and pass into some great sleep of the ages? He closed his eyes for a moment and summoned up the patterns of all four elements. Then he took a fresh look at his world.

*

Lucy Pettigrew turned this way and that as she studied her bottom in the glass. It was a deep pink against the white of her flesh and it sang. The sting from the spanking she had received from Rachel still fizzed deeply and even the light draft of her room rasped against her tender flesh.

She had loved the way Rachel had made her cry even though she had bawled out great cleansing tears all through the spanking. She remembered how water had splashed from her face even as fire had burned in her bottom. Who said fire and water did not mix?

The best part had been that she had been able to beg without the least fear that Rachel would relent. She had bared her soul with her pleading, never had she been so close to another human being.

“I’ll tell you what Lucy,” Rachel had said only after a very great while, “Promise me you will do anything I say and I will stop for a while.”

Lucy hadn’t wanted it to stop, but the freedom of her submission was tantalising. Rachel had run a gentle finger over the lips of her sex between her thighs as she spoke, so the nature of her surrender was not in doubt.

“I promise,” Lucy had wept.

What had followed had been… intense. Lucy was still aroused at the memory. Bending forward she looked back over her shoulder at her bare recently spanked bottom and relived the events in her mind as her hands began to stray again. She would get no studying done today.

*

When Rachel had arrived at the Water Temple, Maxine had been alone. She was naked and standing thigh deep in the middle of one of the larger pools.

Rachel was transfixed. Maxine’s sophisticated beauty wiped her game with Lucy from her mind.

“I did what you…” Rachel was eager to report her triumph.

“Shush,” Maxine hushed her.

The mage’s attention seemed to be absorbed by something unseen and even Rachel could feel more than a hint of magic crackle in the air. As she watched she saw that Maxine was almost dancing in the water. She had adopted an exaggerated crouched pose and was slowly moving her arms. Then at a pace that would be a crawl to the minute hand of a clock, she described delicate circle with her finger tips in the air. One arm was raised up high as the other reached into the water, skimming it so that ripples crossed those radiating from her where her immaculate legs broke the water.

“Do you see it?” Maxine asked in a hushed voice.

Of course she should have observed the patterns as a matter of course, Rachel cursed herself as she struggled to see the lines of power being woven into the fabric of the air.

The patterns were like none she had ever seen before. There were spirals of air and water twisted together that scraped along the walls to disturb the latent earth power sign. Rachel suspected that Maxine could see much more than she; probably even the fire patterns in the light that was scattered by the natural glyphs.

“Block this if you can,” Maxine whispered still concentrating on her art.

Rachel saw then a weave of patterns form into a ball and rush towards her. She crudely snatched at the stands of moisture with her mind and tried to shape them into a net. It was enough and the ball bounced away into a shower of indoor rain.

“A fair effort,” Maxine said finally turning her full attention to Rachel. “Now tell me how you got on with your task.”

*

Before Maxine had grilled Rachel for all the details, she had insisted that she also be naked. Then Rachel had been led into the pool where the two women had sat while the novice told her story to the water mage.

“You were a little out of your depth weren’t you?” Maxine said at last as she allowed herself to smile.

“Yes,” Rachel blushed as she remembered the struggle to stay in control even as she explored a new found dimension to her sexuality.

“You coped well, now try this,” Maxine said.

Rachel frowned as she was unsure what Maxine meant by this and then she saw the water around them bubble until it was boiling cold. Then before Rachel could ask, Maxine embraced her and pulled her under.

‘Can you hear me?’ The voice was clear and Rachel knew it was Maxine speaking, but she could hear nothing above the sound of the water. Instead the words were projected into her head.

Rachel began to panic. With her head underwater, this mind talk was too much.

‘Can you hear me?’ The voice came again.

Rachel nodded, but could not reply.

‘Then breathe,’ Maxine commanded.

Rachel had no choice now and she opened her lungs. Instead of death or at least a sharp sinus pain she found she could breathe.

‘There, easy isn’t it? Now focus on what I do and try it for yourself,’ Maxine commanded.

Rachel could see how the bubbles were buoyed up by myriad patterns that were separated from the air and held the water at bay. She tried to copy but was a once seized by panic.

‘Breath or die.’ The thought-speak was insistent and painfully sharp. Then Maxine stood up and left Rachel to flounder.

It was all Rachel could do to take one filtered breath before she surged spluttering from the pool.

“Not bad,” Maxine chuckled, “But you could have managed longer just by holding your breath.”

Rachel lay prone at the side of the pool choking and coughing with her tongue protruding from her mouth.

“Did you really spank Lucy Pettigrew so long and hard; and… quite so thoroughly?” Maxine purred as she leaned forward.

Rachel averted her eyes and she flared red.

“You are going to do the same for me, you know that don’t you? After I have soundly spanked you of course,” Maxine said whispered.

Rachel’s mouth fell open. For a moment she felt the touch of fear, but she could not hide from herself that the overriding emotion was excitement.

*

Dniester hadn’t moved in an age, his meditative posture was perfect. In this state his withered body did not matter and his inner clarity was all. It had been some time since he had just sat and watched the world how it was. How do they live without the clarity, he wondered, thinking about those who had not his calling. The world was all patterns and from them he could see order; it was beautiful beyond all else.

For Dniester no woman had ever been so fine and as he saw and felt the patterns he was never more convinced that love and lust were born of chaos and disorder. They were too close to the dark side for him to ever have been seduced.

But that was lie. She had been like Amber Sage and Erin. There had been a time when he would have… but not her. He shuddered. She had died pursuing demons and in his foolish youth he had nearly followed her. So much for love, naught but folly, he thought as his heart and mind snapped steel-trap shut.

Dniester let the patterns fade and he again looked at his hands. They were not withered, but instead they were hard and steady and he was ready to reclaim them.

“I am Dniester,” he said aloud.

“I’m sorry Sir,” Erin said meekly from her place bent over the saddle-stool. “What was that?”

She had drifted into a meditative state of her own and only her mentor’s voice had drawn her back. She was still half naked and her back hurt. Her jutting bare bottom was cold now and as the blood of a new blush flooded her face she wondered how much longer Dniester would keep her.

“I said, ‘I am Dniester,’ who are you?” Dniester got to his feet and took up the dragon tooth from the desk top.

Amber shivered as she heard it scrape against wood, but she did not turn around. Now that the moment had come she wished she could delay it again.

“Who are you to dabble in forces that would crush so many wiser than you?” Dniester voice was firm now and carried an edge.

“I… I was just trying to help,” Erin said, her mouth was suddenly sticky and her voice sounded lost.

“Help,” he raged, “I forbade you from Wild Magic in all its forms.”

“I was only…” Erin squeaked.

I was only… Dniester remembered she had said that when he had last confronted her. “Demons,” he spat suddenly, “you were reading of demons.”

He glared at Erin’s proffered behind; all his rage was focussed on it, if it hadn’t been he might have heard the footsteps on the staircase outside. So he was surprised by the knock on the door.

“Come,” he growled impatiently, trying to reassert control.

Erin started and scrambled as if to flee. Who the hell, she thought desperately, they’ll see.

“Be still child,” Dniester cautioned.

Amber stepped into the room and at once saw Erin’ predicament. She blushed as she remembered that not so long ago she had been in the same position.

“You wanted to see me,” Amber said calmly, her buttocks clenching a little. She felt a little sick.

“You enlisted the assistance of a student for the study of demonology,” Dniester accused without preamble.

“What,” Amber was taken aback, “Never. Erin what is he talking about?”

Dniester saw at once that Amber’s surprise was genuine and he turned his attention back to Erin.

“I think you had better explain little one,” he said crisply.

*

The story had come out in pieces. Amber had started researching the creature who had been assailing Katrin’s dreams. She was reluctant to talk, but Fear had had a theory and she was looking into it.

“You say your research has been authorised by Dr Fear?” Dniester sounded suspicious.

“Yes, although I do have open permission from the Grand Magus for…”

“And you,” Dniester cut Amber off and turned on Erin, “What has this got to do with you?”

“I… I kind of read Dr Fear’s letter and saw the grimoire open on the desk and I kind of…” Erin’s voice tailed off. It had seemed such a good idea at the time.

“Erin Stone,” Amber gasped, “That is… Dniester this is all my fault… I…”

Dniester silenced her with his hand. “That is as maybe,” he said, “But this one is not blameless and she knew what she was doing. I expressly forbade her from any activities around Wild Magic and as for demons…”

Amber was white and shook a little. She felt sicker than ever now. How could Erin have been so stupid? Fear would skin her alive for her own part in this. And she would deserve it, Amber thought grimly.

“I intend to cane this one soundly,” Dniester growled, “And then I give you leave to punish her in any way you see fit. As for you, you will consider your part in this and suggest your own… penance.”

Amber blushed. By rights she should protest, but the old adept’s words were wise and just, so she just nodded and brooded on hazel twigs and devil’s root. Erin would suffer them both and at length once she had recovered from Dniester’s ministry.

“You may remain for this,” Dniester said firmly, “Your presence will be salutatory… for both of you.”

*

There were already five stark plum-red coloured lines across Erin’s bottom and Amber was willing to bet that she could rest a pencil on each one of them.

Dniester was laying-on slowly and hard, but with each bitter slice through the air, Amber jumped a little in anticipation of the impact.

Erin had grunted at each impact with a throaty gasp and despite the still relatively low count had already showed signs of gentle tears.

“I trust you have plans to set aside your reckless disrespect,” Dniester observed dryly as he plied Erin with a sixth stroke.

“Yes Sir,” Erin yipped as she tensed up for another line of fire.

“How… how many…” Amber enquired tentatively as glanced hopefully at the door, “I mean perhaps I should…”

“Oh there will be a good many yet,” Dniester rasped as he struck again with surprising vigour, “And you, will stay for each and every one of them.”

“Yes Sir,” Amber said hastily.

To be continued…