The Thaumaturge Ch. 11

"What if I went to Elana and tried to get her to fix this?"

I was staring into the mirror at my own reflection. Next to me, Lauren made a sound in her throat -- a small, worried grunt.

My voice was steady, confident, but my face in the mirror told a different story. I looked tired, but had a bit of a manic, wild look about the eyes, too; like a caged animal, looking for escape. And there was a stillness to my expression that was... off, somehow. It was the kind of deceptive stillness created by tension, a rubber band pulled taut, a rope stretched to its limit.

The reflection was doing some odd things, I realized.

First, only I seemed to be in focus, now -- Lauren and the room behind me had gotten hazy.

Second -- there was an increasing confusion in my mind about whether I was seeing the reflection, or whether I was the reflection, looking out at myself.

... Did that even make sense?

My brain tried to fight the disorienting shift in perspective. It was like one of those optical illusions where you can either see an old woman's face or two people kissing, but not both at once. My perspective snapped back and forth between reflection and reality. One moment I was looking into the mirror, the next moment I was looking out of it. Back and forth again. Now it was hard to tell what was looking into the mirror and what wasn't. And then --

And then I was in the Mirror.

---

I turned to Lauren. "I'm going to see Elana. Maybe she'll help me fix it." The frustration in me had reached a boiling point.

Lauren nodded. "Look, I'll start doing some research. Promise me that you won't agree to anything with her, okay? If she wants to, I don't know, cut a deal of some kind, just tell her you need to think about it."

I nodded, reluctantly.

Hesitantly, brushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, Lauren looked at me, and bit her lip. "Are you sure you don't want me to... y'know, try to take care of you before you go? You look really tense. I know Viv couldn't, but she did say your penis is... different. Maybe I should try to-"

---

My perspective snapped, uncomfortably. Lauren had slapped me on the shoulder, which had been enough to pull me out of the scene. She was blushing. "This is... this is totally unrealistic! I wouldn't throw myself at you like that just because Viv -- I mean, we know you can only finish with the gorgon anyway--"

"Ow... what..." I blinked, trying to reorient myself. On the mirror, the scene was frozen, now, Lauren's mouth open midsentence -- but even as I glanced at it, I could feel it tugging at my perception, pulling me back into its perspective.

"You can't think that just because you've got a bigger dick I'd--"

Lauren cut off as I started laughing.

"This is confusing enough as-is, Lauren. I'm not making this up, the Mirror is. Can you... just let me..." I trailed off as I glanced at the Mirror again and felt it sucking me back in.

She looked embarrassed. "Right. Sorry."

The Mirror pulled me back in.

---

"No, no, that's okay," I said, interrupting Lauren hastily. "It won't work anyway."

I appreciated the offer, and it was tempting to try -- to see what Lauren would think of my newfound size, my inability to get off. But I just wanted to get to Elana and get this over with.

Twenty minutes later I was across campus and at the art studio.

Elana was just finishing up what appeared to be a ceramics class, some lecture on pottery. She was wearing a black apron over jeans and a t-shirt; the apron was clearly well-used, spattered with smears of clay. CAREFUL, I'VE GOT A LICENSE TO KILN was emblazoned on the apron in bright red lettering.

She raised an eyebrow as I walked in, but otherwise just kept talking.

"So, that's what it comes down to: know your materials. Know the clay you're shaping. You don't want to overdo it. If you work it too much, you'll make it useless. And you don't want to fire it too hot, or you'll just make it crack. Or make it explode. And while that's fun and dramatic, it'll be useless afterwards."

She paused, and then said: "So that's the lesson I'll leave you with for today: know the limits of what you're working with. See you all next week!"

Her tone wasn't suggestive at all, but the words made it feel like she was talking for me, specifically.

Just being in her presence was having an effect on me. She was magnetic, as if my body knew, somehow, that Elana could give me the relief I was craving. I was staring at her eyes from across the room, and while the effect I remembered from last night was muted at this distance, even without her attention focused on me, my body was reacting. I could feel my cock getting ha-

---

"Oh my god, Matt, you're getting hard." Lauren nudged my shoulder, incredulous as she looked down at me.

"I, uh... yeah, this is really immersive... ugh..." I mumbled the words, blinking rapidly as I tried to reorient myself to the sudden shift in perspective once again. It made my head spin.

"Is she that hot? Do you have a thing for aprons or something?" Lauren was looking at Elana in the Mirror, her expression dubious.

"She's pretty, but it's her eyes. You'll see for yourself if you stop interrupting," I muttered, staring back at the Mirror, letting it pull me in.

---

-rd. My mind was consumed with thoughts of last night.

Her students filtered out past me. I was aware that I probably seemed odd, loitering in the back of the room as her class ended. But I didn't care.

As the last of the students left, I approached her at the front of the classroom. She was gathering her things, putting her lecture notes into a practical brown leather bag.

She glanced up at me, meeting my eyes. "Matt, dear boy. I didn't expect to see you until class on Thursday!"

Even the brief eye contact was enough to be a bit disorienting. "I-I know, but... I was, um, hoping I could talk to you..." I stammered the words out, trying to be as polite as I could.

It wasn't just the attraction in her eyes; it was her power giving me pause.

"There's not an issue with my craftsmanship, is there? Everything looks like it's in working order to me, certainly." She raised an eyebrow, looking down pointedly at the prominent outline of my length in the jeans I was wearing.

"N-no, no," I said hastily. "Nothing like that. It... that change is great." The image of Viv, body tensed up as she told me she was going to cum impaled on my big dick, flashed through my mind. "Really great."

Elana's eyes crinkled in a smile. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. What, then?"

I decided I'd try to say it in the least adversarial way possible. "I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to address the, y'know..."

"Oh, dear. Come, sit with me a moment." She finished packing up, and sat in one of the chairs at the front of the studio classroom; she patted the seat next to her. I sat, feeling relieved at the note of fondness in her voice.

"I know it must feel very inconvenient for a young man like you. I did try to prevent this," she said, sympathetically, "but there's really no easy way out of the situation, now."

"I know, I know, you did," I said, earnestly. I really wanted to stay on her good side. "So... no easy ways out... but there are ways out?"

She sighed and nodded, slowly. "There are ways, young man. There are always ways. But it's not just something to undo." Her nose wrinkled. "It's not some spell I cast on you. It's just the shape your mind was in when you lost control last night."

I thought that over for a moment. The combination of how tired I felt and how turned on I was made me feel stupid, slow. "What... um, what shape was it in?"

"Well, dear, your mind was in my hands, as I'm sure you recall. I was shaping it. So your mind was quite... compliant, at the time, totally in my control. And then you lost control, and it... well, it just stayed in that shape. Cooled and solidified in that compliant form, if you like."

"So... can't you just shape me some more, then?"

She shook her head. "Dear, the only thing that me messing around further inside your mind is going to do is make you even more compliant. Even more malleable under my touch. And while I might enjoy that very much," her cheeks dimpled, "That's not really what you want, is it?"

She was right, but my cock surged at those words anyway.

I tried to focus on her point; it did make a sort of sense. "So... what would fix it, then?"

She hesitated, then continued, "There are two ways to resolve it, in this case. But neither are especially advisable or safe. I really do think you should just make the best of it. It'll fade with time." She patted my thigh, sympathetically.

My cock jumped again when her hand touched me. I tried to focus.

"Maybe I could, y'know, try them anyway..." My mouth was dry -- whether it was from arousal, from the hope of a way out of this situation.

Her mouth quirked, slightly. Maybe in disappointment, maybe in disapproval, maybe in amusement. It was impossible to say. "Very brash of you. That's how young men alw-"

---

"Well, she's got a good read on you there, you would just go do something rash," Lauren said, nudging me again. "Hmm. Two ways, huh? Sculpting your mind... I wonder..."

"Lauren." I said her name slowly, resentfully, as I tried yet again to blink away the uncomfortable sensation of having my perspective lurch back out of the Mirror again. "Can you please stop pulling me out of the scene? It feels... bad."

"Sorry, sorry," she said, hastily.

I let the Mirror pull me back in.

---

"-ays are." Elana's tone was affectionate. She gave me a once over. "Now that I'm looking, though, you do seem both worn thin and wound up. Shall I take a closer look and see if there's anything I can do?"

"Please, yes." I could hear the urgency in my own voice.

She brought her gaze up to mine, meeting my eyes directly. She was still wearing her glasses, so it wasn't the full force of her power, but it was more than enough to stop me in my tracks.

Not enough to completely stop my curiosity, though. Even as I could feel my thoughts sinking down into the dark pools of her eyes, I managed to get out, "S-so... not to be brash, but those... ways... to..."

Maintaining eye contact, she said, evenly, "Hush, Matt. Quiet, please. I'm trying to focus. Mmm, that is odd..."

Being quiet was easy. This was the most relaxed I'd felt since... well, since last night. I realized that this was what I'd been craving. My cock, especially, was responding eagerly; I could feel myself twitching.

"Oh, dear," she clicked her tongue in consternation. "There are a few things going on, here..."

"What do you mean?" I could barely form the syllables.

"Well, for one, you've certainly developed some... interesting thought patterns about me, haven't you?" Elana murmured.

I felt a little embarrassed, wondering what exactly she was seeing. But the sense of embarrassment was dim; mostly I just luxuriated in the warmth of her eyes, that sensation of being encompassed, floating.

"And... my goodness, the well of your power is filling back up quite nicely already, isn't it? I'm surprised you've got so much power available again, so quickly..."

I made a muted sound of agreement; I wasn't really listening. I was losing track of why I'd even come to see her in the first place.

I felt her hands begin fiddling with my fly, deftly pull my length free. I groaned at the sensation.

"The combination of the two must be just awful, dear. The urgent need to have your font of power drained, by me... well, don't worry. I'll take care of you. You want that, don't you?"

I wanted it so badly. Even in the grips of her gaze, I managed a nod.

One of her hands came up to her face, pulling her glasses off and setting them to the side.

But my eyes were locked on hers, couldn't follow the movement. I let out a blissful sigh as the full force of her gaze slammed into my mind. It had the same effect on my consciousness as if I had just driven into a brick wall. I could feel my mind come to an abrupt-

---

"H-holy fuck," Lauren breathed, staring at Elana's eyes in the Mirror. She was gripping my thigh hard enough that it was uncomfortable; that's what had broken my focus on the Mirror.

"Y-yeah," I said. The disorientation each time she did this was getting worse; I felt decidedly queasy, now. "Lauren, if you interrupt me again, I am either going to go insane, or throw up all over you. Even odds as to which it is. We can talk when this is done."

"Okay," she said, absentmindedly, this time. Her voice was quiet, soft, and her eyes were locked on the Mirror.

Which drew me in once more.

---

-stop.

Slowly -- her eyes on mine the whole time -- Elana stood up, moving first to stand in front of me, then to kneel.

"I really did such a nice job sculpting you," she said, a throaty, admiring note in her voice, now. "And it is nice to be able to enjoy one's own talents, now and then."

I couldn't look away from her gaze, even at the feeling of her hand wrapping around my length. My breathing quickened. She was kneeling in front of me. Maybe she was going to touch me with more than her hands. The very idea was overwhelming.

She pumped me, once, now, with her hand. "Mmm. Your psyche hasn't been able to move past my sculpting of you, has it? You yearn for me to take you in my hands again, to feel me caressing your thoughts; everything else is just inadequate now, isn't it?" she murmured.

I grunted agreement, helplessly. That single stroke had me right on the edge. I could feel her breath, warm, on my cock.

Her mouth was inches from me. "Do you want me to take care of you, dear?"

I was shaking a little, trembling like a leaf in a gale. I whimpered agreement -- a needy, desperate sound.

"And your well of power replenishes so quickly... unusual, for a thaumaturge of your degree of inexperience," she mused. "Those baby witches really aren't drinking deeply enough. But I will."

Her tongue flicked out, delicately, almost snake-like, lapping at the trail of precum that was leaking from the tip of my cock.

With Viv this morning, I'd felt that strange frustration -- of being close to orgasm, but just not quite being able to achieve it. Of something not exactly right -- the pace being off, the sensation being off. Even Viv's eyes being the wrong color.

When Elana's tongue darted against the head of my cock, eyes piercing my own, the experience was the opposite: a sense of sheer, physical relief. This was what my body had been craving. Primed by the sex with Viv earlier, lost in Elana's eyes, I immediately crashed over the edge towards an impossibly powerful orgasm.

But then there was that flicker behind her eyes that I'd seen last night, and the sensation eased. I heard a strangled sound escape my lips.

"Not just yet, young man," she crooned at me. "I've hardly gotten started."

As if through molasses, the thoughts formed, slowly: This was exactly what I wanted. Was everything I wanted. Elana was in complete control of me. She would get me off, then she could... help... me... fix...

Her gaze suddenly went sharp, as if she could see what I was thinking; that edge in her eyes brought my train of thought screeching to a halt. "Oh, my. No, no, no. There's just no deterring you, is there? You're still going to go looking for ways to 'fix' this, aren't you, dear?" She let out a sigh. "I was afraid of that. It's just not safe for you to try. And I want you to be safe."

She paused, then said, "Well, then. I'll keep you safe until this fades." Her voice had an odd note in it. Regret, maybe?

But I was in favor of it. I felt safe, here, wrapped in the velvet of her gaze. I wanted it.

Not breaking eye contact, she slid my thick length in her mouth, all of it, in a single thrust. There was no resistance, no sound of struggle, no indication that it was difficult at all.

Just the lush sensation of her, enveloping my cock the way she was enveloping my mind. Her dark eyes, steady and warm. I groaned.

Good boy. Mouth wrapped around my cock, she didn't speak the words, but I could hear her, directly in my mind.

Those words vibrating around my skull, the sensation of her lips on me, the sight of her -- mouth full of my cock, the tip of her nose against my abdomen, her eyes looking up at me -- was so erotic. I was immediately on the verge of cumming, again.

Now, this won't be forever. Just for a while. So you're safe. Safe with me.

The bliss was overwhelming.

And you'll enjoy it, I promise.

I kept eye contact with her as she backed off my length, and then slid me back down her throat again.

It was different, this time. As I plunged into her mouth, I could feel myself sink into the depths of her gaze, down into the darkness. That ancient void I'd seen in her eyes last night opened up, welcoming me.

And I welcomed it, welcomed the sensation. It felt like she just kept taking my cock, deeper and deeper into her, the same way she was engulfing my mind. I just kept going, falling into her.

I started cumming. There was no helping it. But even as I felt the first convulsion of ejaculation, the first spurt of cum from my cock...

My perception of time began to stretch.

That first moment of release, the orgasm peaking, just lengthened, going on and on and on.

Her eyes were everything, all encompassing. I couldn't look away, couldn't do anything at all-

---

"F-fuck--" I groaned out the word. The groan was one of confused pleasure. "W-what was--?"

I was staring at the Mirror, where the scene from my perspective -- centered on Elana's gaze, her mouth full of my cock -- was slowly greying out, fading from the Mirror.

"I think she, uh... just... turned you to stone, Matt. To keep you safe." Lauren said the words a little breathlessly. I glanced over at her -- she was breathing hard and a little red-faced.

I registered that she had -- a little sheepishly -- pulled a hand out from up under her dress, from between her thighs.

I was taken aback. "Were you..."

Lauren took in a deep, shaky breath. She looked embarrassed. "I was, yes. I see what you mean about her eyes. The effect's muted through the Mirror when we're just onlookers, but it's still significant. I mean, look at yourself."

I was fully, almost painfully engorged. My jeans were stained with precum that had leaked everywhere.

But I hadn't cum. And I knew that unless Elana walked through the door, I wouldn't. I wanted her. I could feel it.

"Fuck," I repeated, taking in a shaky breath myself.

"Still," Lauren muttered to herself, "That was extremely informative. The shape of your mind. There are two ways to fix it."

I nodded, still seeing Elana's gaze in my mind's eye.

Lauren continued. "And beyond that, her observation that us baby witches aren't draining your power deeply enough is also quite interesting. We should explore that once we've got your power back." She gave me an approving nod. "This was a good choice to use the Mirror on, Matt; good thinking. I'm going to cancel my plans for the afternoon and do some research. I'll get you some answers."

I stood up, trying to shake off the lingering vision from the Mirror. I found that there was a little hope, behind it. I was encouraged by her mention of things we should do once I got my power back. "Thanks, Lauren. While you do that, I'll go--"

Lauren cut me off. "No, you won't. I'm expediting this for you precisely so that you don't go do something stupid. Sit back down and read a book while I do some research. Oh, and order us pizza, or something? You're gonna owe me big time if I figure out how to fix this for you, and I'm hungry."

I gave her a resentful look.

Lauren sighed. "Please, Matt. What else are you going to do, go get Elana to turn you to stone? Just sit there for a little, and I will get you some answers, I swear. If you don't like them, you can always go get yourself turned to stone after, and I won't stop you."

Reluctantly, I nodded, and pulled out the Thaumaturge's journal I had started reading the last time I was here.

---

Lauren hadn't spoken to me for more than an hour. I ordered pizza. I watched her comb through various tomes and manuscripts scattered around the room for a bit; the pizza arrived, and I went and got it, ate a slice before opening the journal.

The next section was a bit of an easier read than the opening I'd read the other day, at least. It described a series of experiences not dissimilar from my own, I realized. This ancient Greek thaumaturge had started traveling with a witch, who explained to him the various magical creatures they might encounter. There were a series of incredibly detailed sex scenes with flowery language that I was tempted to skip over, but felt like I ought to read thoroughly in case they held any tidbits of interesting information.

There wasn't much. But, parsing through all the metaphors translated from Greek to 18th-century English that filled the many descriptions of him having sex with this witch, I started to gather something that did feel significant, somehow: this guy, whoever he was, came pretty fast.

Just like I did. Huh.

I kept reading. There were a few relatively innocuous chapters in which she described thaumaturgy to him, their relationship -- she could cast spells, but needed his power; he couldn't cast spells, but could power them. Then they were beset upon by a pack of harpies, one of whom kidnapped him, flying off with him to her mountain den--

"Okay. I've formed a working hypothesis and I need to discuss it with you to help direct the next part of my research."

Lauren's voice in the silence was so unexpected that I startled and almost dropped the book. "O-okay?"

She looked at me levelly as she picked up a slice of pizza. "So," she said, between bites, "I'm not finding anything specific about gorgons. But some of the language she used to describe your mind made me inclined to research a few other related maladies that magical creatures can inflict on men, and on thaumaturges in particular."

I nodded, waiting for more.

Lauren said, "It was there being two ways that tipped me off. If she's right, and your mind, your thought patterns, are just magically stuck in a form that leaves you unable to orgasm except for her, you just need to disrupt that pattern, form new ones."

I was, admittedly, impressed. "So... you know what the two ways are?"

"In broad terms, yes." She held up a finger. "First way: you make her orgasm."

I blinked. I'd been expecting some kind of... ceremony performed under the full moon, maybe. "Sorry, but... are you sure? How would that help?"

"It would, uh..." She trailed off, clearly trying to find the right words. "... Recontextualize the things, in your own mind. It'd be a metaphorical and actual way of reasserting self-control."

I tried to imagine what it'd be like to get Elana off. Admittedly, it stretched credulity. Making eye contact and thinking straight was nearly impossible. The idea that I would have the wherewithal to bring her to orgasm felt... unlikely.

"Okay," I said, dubiously. "So what's the other way?"

She held up a second finger. "Someone else -- anyone besides Elana -- gives you an orgasm. That'd have a similar recontextualizing effect on your experience with Elana."

I sighed, frustrated. "Sorry, Lauren, but how is this a solution? The whole problem in the first place is that I can't seem to--"

She raised a placating hand, and when she spoke, her voice was frank. "Matt, I know. These aren't specific solutions. They're just approaches. I need to know which one you think I should focus on for more research."

"... Oh."

She continued, "For the first one, from what I saw in the Mirror, there's, uh... a real control issue around her that we'd have to address for that first approach to be, y'know, viable. And the alternative isn't easier. Obviously normal, non-magical sex isn't getting you off. So we'd have to figure out something -- or someone -- to accomplish more than that."

The situation was both hopeless and ridiculous at the same time. I barked out a short laugh.

But Lauren wasn't laughing. "Come on. Which should I focus on?"

I wasn't sure. Neither seemed like a great option.

Figure out how I could get Elana off? It sounded impossible, to me.

Or find another way for me to orgasm? I had to imagine that anything -- or anyone -- who was able to get me off was going to come with its own host of problems.