Jay Friday
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The Thaumaturge [Chapter 6: An Aggressive Finish]
🕑 Added 2025-02-06 16:12:18 +0000 UTCLauren. She might have more answers.
I waited, half a block down from the entrance to Viv's building, for Viv to leave. There was no way I was going to risk awkwardly running into her on my way to talk to Lauren. It only took about ten minutes, but it was starting to get late, now, the light fading as I lingered outside. I watched her hurry into the twilight, back towards campus, it looked like.
I wondered where she was going, who that phone call had been with. Clint, maybe? It could've been him on the other end; it had seemed like she'd referenced the conversation with him.
Part of me wanted to follow her. But she and Diana had made it clear that I needed to be careful, and there was still so much I didn't know.
And I didn't want to piss Viv off.
Beyond that, I realized, I was still grappling with an underlying, uncomfortable truth that was hitting me a bit harder than I had expected.
I couldn't do magic? At all?
It wasn't fair.
I rubbed my shoulder, which was still twinging from that arm-wrestling match with Diana.
With Viv gone, I pulled out my phone, looking at the last text from Lauren. The one she'd somehow sent me without me ever putting my number in her phone.
Lauren: Hey -- I don't know if you were embarrassed, or just had a bad time or what...but I had fun and I'd really like to see you again. Call me or text.
It would be fair to say I'd been avoiding her. Initially, it had been because I was hurt. The texts I'd seen from her to Vivian had made me feel like what I had perceived as great chemistry and a fun first date was just pretense for Lauren to get a thaumaturge home with her.
Now...well, I had to admit to myself that it wasn't only because I'd been hurt. There just hadn't been time. First Viv, then Diana, then Diana again, then Viv again...
I took my time composing the reply, making sure it didn't give anything away unduly, gave me the best footing for a conversation.
Matt: I didn't have a bad time, but...Lauren, I know a lot more now, than I did when we went on our date. I wish you had just told me I was a thaumaturge. Can we meet up to talk? I'm actually right around the corner from your place.
The little floating dots indicating that she was typing appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again, disappeared again...I had clearly thrown her for a bit of a loop. I smiled with grim satisfaction. Well, at least I wasn't the only one spinning my wheels.
Finally, her response appeared.
Lauren: Oh god. Ok. Yes. We should talk. I'm home, want to come over now?
Matt: Sure. Be there in a few.
Lauren: OK, just text me when you're outside.
I waited another five minutes before I texted her that I was outside, so I didn't seem like a total fucking creeper.
---
Lauren opened the door. She was just as beautiful as I remembered -- those perfect model features, green eyes. Her dark hair was back in a messy ponytail. She was wearing leggings and a light hoodie that showed off a petite, fit body.
Her full lips were currently twisted into an apologetic wince. "Come on in, Matt. I have a lot to say, but we can talk more in my apartment."
I nodded, and followed her inside. We rode the elevator together in silence. I was looking down at her, mulling over what to ask her, how this should go.
She, for her part, wasn't making eye contact. She was biting her lip and looked anxious.
I felt a little bad. "Lauren, I'm not that--"
"Not here," she said, in a small voice.
I lapsed into silence, which persisted through the rest of the elevator ride and the walk down the hallway to her apartment door, before she opened it and ushered me inside.
I hadn't gotten to see much of her apartment the last time I was in it, before...well, she had started making out with me, she had gone down on me, I had finished, I had seen those text messages, gotten weirded out, and left. So the details of the place had escaped me.
I gave it more scrutiny, this time. The apartment was nice, but it had enough touches, now that I was looking for them, to be both nice and a bit odd. Her living room was dominated by more bookshelves than was normal for a college student's apartment, and books that were older than normal for anybody's apartment. Decor that was not only more mature than your average college students, but with some details that bordered on the weird, esoteric. The side table by the entrance had a variety of little tchotchkes arranged along it -- a little stone dog, barking. A wooden cross -- not a Christian cross, more of a plus-sign cross. A pearl necklace, piled up in a little silvery bowl. A vial of some kind of clear liquid, with tiny red flecks floating in it?
The apartment was small: a living room, kitchen, doors to her bedroom and bathroom. A sliding glass door opened onto a small balcony with an uninspiring view of the street outside and a similar apartment building across the way. All very normal.
But it definitely had some occult undertones, now that I was looking for them.
There were more normal things too -- a haphazard pile of mail that probably needed to get looked through, a collection of champagne corks in a basket, that kind of thing. But now that I was looking for them, her apartment gave me a sense that something was strange about her.
Probably because she was a witch.
As if on cue, Luna, her little black cat, came running up to us, mewing as Lauren closed the door behind us.
And then Lauren started talking, words spilling out of her rapid-fire, earnest, anxious, one after another. Her voice was unsteady -- like she might cry.
"Look, I'm really sorry, Matt. I should've told you. In my defense, I'm...well, pretty new at this. And telling you isn't against the rules, exactly, but it's kind of a big choice, and people like to...well, they like to wait a bit to do that, so that's what I did, but it didn't feel right, I should've--"
I held up my hands. "Jeez. Slow down, please, Lauren. Can we like, sit down and talk about this?"
She nodded, mutely, and gestured at a couch. I sat; she sat next to me, a little ways away.
I sighed. "Look, I've learned a lot in the two days since our date. After we...well, while you were in the bathroom, I saw your texts with Viv. About me being a thaumaturge."
Horrified comprehension flashed onto her face, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
I just continued. "I wish you had just told me. I've been feeling like you went on a date with me with some ulterior motive. And, I mean...you did, right?" I could hear the bitterness creep into my voice.
She was apologetic. "I-I did, yeah. But...I would've told you. Was going to. Honest. There's just a...right way and time to do it."
I wasn't sure I believed her, and I'm sure the skepticism showed on my face. She paused for a moment, reading my expression, and then her brow furrowed in confusion. "Nobody's explained the Cost of Knowledge to you?"
I could hear the capital C and K in the way she said the words, and now it was my turn to pause. "No...?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Who'd you get the facts from? Viv, I assume, right?"
I hesitated, but then nodded, deciding not to mention Diana. For now, at least.
"Of course it was Viv." Lauren was both jealous and exasperated. "I swear to fucking god. I'm supposed to be learning from her, but she never does anything by the book, how am I supposed to..." she trailed off, noting the confusion on my face.
She huffed out a breath. "This is all fucked up. You're supposed to have one person -- the person who tells you what you are -- who is responsible for making sure you've got all the relevant facts at your disposal. The way you've learned bits and pieces...you don't have the full story."
I was frustrated, now. "Yeah, I'm seeing that. It feels like a big problem. Can't you just fill me in?"
She bit her lip. "I don't even know what you know and what you don't know, to--"
"Start with the Cost of Knowledge," I encouraged.
She nodded. "Okay. So, thaumaturges who don't know what they are, are considered a...community resource. The idea is that everybody benefits from having magic be more readily available. Anyone is allowed to benefit from their power; the expectation is just that you aren't keeping them to yourself. Or hurting them."
Community resource? I narrowed my eyes. "I don't get a say in that? You and anybody else can just...use me?"
"Look, I'm not saying these are good or right. I'm just telling you the convention, and the conventions is this: thaumaturges living in ignorance aren't to be harmed or involved in any way. Like, um, you know when you're camping how you're supposed to leave no trace? Leave the campsite better than you found it? Sort of like that."
Living in ignorance. A campsite. These conventions didn't exactly feel...well, like they treated me very respectfully. I started to get annoyed.
She paused. "If you want a thaumaturge to exclusively help you -- and not others -- you need to tell them what they are. Once they know, they can make their own decisions about what they do. Can use their power for leverage, to form alliances, hurt their enemies...just like anybody else. And, well. They're fair game after that. Open season. To form alliances with...threaten...exploit...kill, so they can't help your enemies..." she trailed off with a grimace.
Even worse. Apparently I wasn't a community resource. I was fair game.
I blinked, processing this. "So you left me in ignorance...to...keep me safe?"
"Yes." Then she hesitated, smiled a little sadly, and shrugged. "I mean, look, I'm not trying to pretend it was completely altruistic or anything, okay? My plan was to carefully, thoughtfully, introduce you to all this. And I would have done my best to ensure you ended up an ally to me."
"Okay," I said, slowly, processing this news. "So...now what?"
"Well, I'd still like to have you as an ally, obviously." She said it earnestly. "And you're going to need some allies. Once people start realizing what you are, that you know what you are, you'll have a giant target on your back."
I asked a question that I realized had been bugging me. "Who's people? Viv, and..." Shit. I had been about to mention Diana. I cursed my slip up. "...Uh, that is, Viv gave me a similar warning, but it's always unspecified."
Lauren paused, noting the stumble, but then just nodded. "Well, at least Viv did that much. Look, magic can do a lot of things. You can live a long time. See, experience, visit, do just about anything you want, with enough preparation, planning, and power. The only real threat to you once you amass enough power are other willworkers, so..."
"Willworkers?" I recalled Diana using similar terminology.
She waved her hand. "Magicians. Wizards. Sorcerers. Witches. Whatever you want to call it. There are lots of different traditions, schools of thought, but at the end of the day they're all just people capable of working magic through their wills. And at the end of the day, once you're around long enough, your goal tends to be amassing more power to protect yourself from other people with magic, because they're the only actual threat to you. And thaumaturges are very useful in that regard."
She paused, then just shook her head again. "God, you've got a lot of blind spots. There's so much to cover."
I wasn't sure what to say to that, but I grounded myself in one truth of the conversation. She wanted me on her side.
"So if I were to agree to be your ally...what would it get me?" I asked, hesitantly.
She nodded. "Good question. It depends on what it means. I'd be happy to trade magic for power; I can do a bunch of things that might be useful to you. If you want to come to a longer-term arrangement, that would be different."
I wondered what the longer-term arrangement might look like, but I imagined it might have exclusivity parameters -- maybe prevent me from making deals with other people. And it felt like I knew too little to make that kind of deal right now.
"What kind of magic could you do for me?" I asked the question, tentatively.
She shrugged. "All kinds of stuff. My specialty is making artifacts." She looked at me, expectant.
My face was blank. I didn't know what an artifact was.
She sighed. "You just know so little. Okay, look. You play any video games? Something with a fantasy theme, like Skyrim? Or maybe Dark Souls? Or the Final Fantasy games? Dungeons and Dragons?" She paused, and then slowly, as if she wasn't sure if I spoke English, she said, "Do you know what a magic item is?"
I nodded, annoyed, now.
"Okay. So I can make those. I'm pretty good at it. So how about this: give me another round of thaumaturgical energy like you gave me before, and I'll use part of it to create a magic item for you. An artifact."
Well. That did sound like a useful trade. "What kind of artifact?"
Maybe I could get to do magic after all.
"So, look, for just a one-off trade like this, it's going to be something that gets used up quickly...let me think about what might be most useful to you..."
She mulled it over for a moment, then started ticking the options off on her fingers.
"First, I could make something that would protect you from magic that influences your perception. It'd only work a limited number of times, depending on the strength of the magic being used on you; it's not permanent immunity or anything. But that kind of magic is really dangerous."
"Or, I could make something that allows you to know if someone is magical without needing to actually see them doing magic. Might help you keep yourself safer."
She hesitated, considering. "...Okay, and one final option. I could make something that would be like, a ripcord in the case of emergencies. You could use it and you'd be instantly transported back here, to my apartment."
She gave me a small smile. "That's a pretty powerful one, a lot more powerful than the other two -- and I'm only offering it to you because it would keep you coming back to me for help if you get into trouble."
I considered these. "That's all stuff to keep myself safe. Isn't there anything more, I don't know...offensive?"
She nodded. "Sure. All kinds of stuff. But I don't think you really know enough yet to be throwing fireballs around responsibly. I'm not gonna be responsible for you torching one of your classmates because you think she might be a sorceress trying to hex you, or whatever."
She had a point.
I mulled over the options, and then picked one.
[JF note: Whatever he picks isn't going to immediately impact the story, so a poll for this choice is going up alongside this chapter when I post it.]
---
"So...now what?" I said. We had talked for a little bit more; she evidently needed to know a few things about me, to make me the artifact in question. She had made some notes based on our conversation in precise, neat handwriting, in a little journal that she closed.
"Well...now I could use some power, Matt." Her lips curved up into a slightly embarrassed smile.
It was impossible not to stare at her mouth. My heartrate accelerated.
And then we both turned to look at the sound of the sliding door -- the one that opened on to her little balcony -- opening.
Two women stepped inside from the balcony. I blinked, incredulous. Lauren was on the sixth floor. I had no idea how they could've gotten up there.
Magic, my brain helpfully informed me.
Lauren and I both stood warily as they shut the door behind them.
I sized them up. They were both dressed in what looked like black athletic attire -- leggings and black jackets. They looked athletic, moved fluidly as they walked across the room. One was a bit older -- in her late twenties or early thirties, maybe -- a tall, lithe woman with auburn hair. The other was younger, a little shorter, but fit and muscular.
The taller one spoke, looking at Lauren. "We're here for him. Let us take him and we'll go in peace. We have no quarrel with you, witch." She had a trace of an accent -- oddly familiar.
Lauren glanced at the two of them, then at me. "What do you want with him?"
She was surprisingly composed, I thought. My mind raced and I tried to think of what to do.
"Clint wants to see him." The woman said it flatly, as if that was explanation enough.
It certainly explained the accent, but I decided that playing dumb was absolutely my best course of action. I didn't even have to play very hard. "What the fuck? Did you just break in here? Who's Clint? Lauren and I were just, uh, studying--"
The woman cut me off. "I'm sure he'll explain it to you, if you don't know already. Now. You can come with us the easy way, or the hard way."
I glanced at Lauren. I wasn't sure what she would do. Just let them take me?
She stood up from the couch, smoothly. "You are in my home. Uninvited." she said the words, flatly. "Your very presence here violates the terms of our truce. And he is my guest. Under my protection."
The tall woman hesitated. It was clear she hadn't expected this. "Why would you protect him?"
Lauren shrugged. "He's helping improve one of my essays for a class. Why do you want him?"
"She has exceptionally bad grammar," I added. "I don't see why--"
The tall woman's eyes narrowed, and she cut me off. "This is all bullshit. There's only one reason you'd protect him and we both know it." But she glanced at me and didn't elaborate further.
"Let's just get him and go, Maya. She can't stop both of us." The younger of the two women was eying me with what felt like predatory interest.
"Does Clint know you're here? Don't make a mistake you'll regret." Lauren's voice was anxious, now, but it had a warning note in it.
The tension in the room was palpable. The older woman -- Maya, I gathered -- glanced between her companion, Lauren, and me uncertainly. "Okay, Brooke, wait. Let's--"
And then things exploded into motion.
First, her companion -- Brooke, apparently -- lunged at me, hitting me with a double-leg takedown that was strong, if not especially well-executed. But it was fast enough that she caught me totally off-guard, while I was still registering what was happening. She dumped me unceremoniously against the couch, landing on top of me.
Lauren for her part, twisted past me, headed for...her front door? The older woman cursed and -- again, moving quickly -- gave chase, tackling Lauren to the ground.
I had my own problems, though. The woman on top of me was trying to turn me onto my stomach, the way a cop might pin someone to the ground before cuffing their hands behind their back.
And she was strong. Not as strong as Diana had been, but much stronger than me. I was grateful that she seemed more interested in getting me in some kind of pinned position on the ground instead of just beating my head in -- I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of a punch from her.
But -- I realized after only a few seconds -- she didn't know what she was doing. All strength, no technique. She was trying to twist my arms, shove my shoulders to get me to roll on my back...none of it effective. She let out a frustrated growl as I got my wits about me and started working from the guard position, pushing her off-balance.
I was momentarily distracted by a very bright flare of light in my peripheral vision, which was followed by a crackle, and a yowl that sounded more like Maya than Lauren.
I smiled up at Brooke, grimly, and over the next second or two, executed one of my favorite reversals, slipping around behind her. It was difficult -- as I mentioned, she was strong as hell -- but she was both untutored and frustrated, and that was a recipe for technique to shine.
I sunk in a choke around her neck, deep. The movement gave me a brief, slightly disorienting moment of déjà vu. It was exactly the same submission I'd had locked in on Diana that morning, from the same position; Brooke's ass was against my groin, full and round. I flushed, involuntarily, as I remembered it, but the moment passed. Instead of Diana's practiced grinding, Brooke was thrashing about, obviously aware that this was a bad position but with no idea how to get out of it.
Around this point is probably when I would've let up on a training partner. But coach always said that when you were fighting for real, you ignored taps -- when she was unconscious, I'd let her go.
She had been ready to abduct me. Do god knows what with me after that. I let the anger I felt at that thought fuel me, kept the choke locked in tight.
She started scrabbling at my arm, and then -- with a snarl -- she raked my forearm with her nails, hard and deep enough to draw some significant blood.
I grunted in surprise but kept my grip tight, and over the next few seconds, she stopped struggling and slumped to the ground.
I lowered her to the ground, trying to make sure her neck didn't end up in a weird position, and turned to help Lauren.
Lauren was on her back, struggling helplessly against Maya in the center of her entry hallway. Maya was mounted on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground. "It doesn't have to be like this, Lauren. Just let us take him," Maya was saying.
I quietly got behind Maya, took a breath to get myself together, and sunk in the same choke that I had just used on Brooke. Maya made a strangled noise of surprise, and then -- in spite of my best efforts to break down her posture -- easily stood up with my arms around her neck.
I hadn't expected this.
She was both stronger than Brooke and more practiced at hand-to-hand combat, it turned out.
In a smooth movement, she bent at the hip and executed a textbook over-the-shoulder throw, grabbing one of my arms, extending it, and flipping me onto the ground like I was a ragdoll. I hit the floor on my back harder than anyone's ever thrown me in my life; hard enough that it knocked the wind out of me.
Ouch.
Wheezing to try to get air back in my lungs, it took a second for me to register that there wasn't any follow up from Maya after that.
I rolled onto my stomach and looked up.
Maya was...cowering. Clutching her ears. And making a small, fearful, wailing sound.
Lauren had scrambled over to the entry table, and was pulling herself to her feet. She was holding a small stone figurine in one hand: that little dog that had been on the table.
And it was making a barking sound. Not an especially intimidating bark; more the kind of bark that an annoying, excited, yappy terrier would make when its owner comes back home after a day at work.
But Maya was behaving like it was the worst thing she'd ever heard. I could hear Brooke coming-to behind me; she let out a little moaned whimper, behaving similarly.
Lauren let out a relieved breath. "There are zip ties in my kitchen. Bottom drawer, first cabinet on the right. Get them tied up and I'll...call Clint, I guess."
---
I didn't overhear much of the conversation with Clint -- Lauren kept her voice low, and that little terrier statue was yapping in the background the whole time. I was, for the first time in my life, using zip ties to restrain two women. Who -- while they were cowering and compliant right now -- were superhumanly strong. I had no idea how many zipties to use for a regular person, and I wasn't going to risk using too few, so their forearms, ankles, and behind their knees were covered in zipties by the time I was done. After that, Lauren did something, and the statue stopped barking.
Luna arrived from Lauren's bedroom then, offended and bristling, mewing loudly at everyone. But eventually, perhaps realizing the excitement was over, Luna promptly climbed up on the couch and curled up to go back to sleep.
I didn't want to talk to the two women, and I didn't want to talk to Lauren in front of them -- and clearly Lauren was of the same mind. So we all settled into an uneasy silence. Lauren brought me some bandages for my forearm, which had long gashes from Brooke. Maya and Brooke both glowered at us. We glowered back at them.
Clint showed up at Lauren's front door a few minutes later, looking pissed.
He didn't come inside, though.
"My apologies. These idiots were acting without my approval or authority. I'd never have them enter your home and violate the truce. They'll be punished accordingly."
The barely restrained anger in his voice was enough to make my blood run cold, and it wasn't even directed at me. Brooke and Maya looked terrified.
"I shall release them into your custody, then." Lauren's voice was nervous.
Clint nodded. "Thank you."
"...But you must extend our truce to Matt, here." Her voice was still nervous, but firmer, now.
Clint studied me. "He's a thaumaturge, isn't he?"
Lauren hesitated.
But I just nodded. He had seen me with Viv. He knew, or suspected. If he didn't -- whether it was with his permission or not -- the two women wouldn't be here.
Clint nodded back at me. "Well, Matt, you have my word that you shall be left alone. If we can ever do anything for you, just come let us know. Perhaps we can do business; witches aren't the only ones who could be doing you favors."
Fuck you. But I didn't say that. "I don't make deals with people who try to kidnap me." I didn't trust him at all.
Clint shrugged. "As I said, they acted without my knowledge. But I understand. If you change your mind, the offer stands."
Lauren got a boxcutter and cut the zip ties, backing away warily. But the fight was gone from Brooke and Maya; they scurried off behind Clint without another word.
Clint gave a slight bow to Lauren. "I must say, I am impressed. To take on two of us is no small task."
Lauren smiled. "I had help."
Clint just nodded again. "We shall keep the truce, and it now extends to Matt. See that you keep it, as well."
He turned, and left.
---
The moment she closed the door and locked it, I felt all of the adrenaline that had been pumping through me the last few minutes begin to dissipate. I took in an unsteady breath, and watched as Lauren did the same.
"H-holy fuck. That was so dangerous." Lauren went into her kitchen and started pouring herself the shakiest glass of wine I had ever seen.
She looked at me, questioningly, wine bottle in hand, and I nodded, vigorously. She poured me a glass as well.
I felt an overwhelming amount of gratitude. "Fuck, Lauren. I, uh, thanks for--"
"I can't believe you wrestled one of them--" she started.
We both stopped, looking at each other, and broke out into simultaneous grins.
"It meant a lot that you didn't just, y'know, let them take me," I said.
"Seriously, are you some kind of martial artist? They're really strong."
"I absolutely caught Brooke off guard; she didn't know what she was doing. You saw what happened with Maya, who definitely did know what she's doing." I winced and rubbed my back. That was going to leave some bruises.
"Yeah, but if you hadn't helped, Matt..." she trailed off.
"Hey, but I did. And so did you. We made a good team." I raised a glass in a toast. "To teamwork."
She returned the toast and took a long swig of wine.
I did the same.
She looked at me across her kitchen counter, staring over the rim of her wine glass. Her green eyes were bright, and when she spoke, there was a quaver in her voice. "I didn't know if I could take them, but they came into my h-home, which is a serious violation of the truce, and I knew if I let them take you...I-I've never had to...never done anything like--"
I could see she was absolutely on the verge of a sobbing breakdown. I came to stand behind her, put one hand on her shoulder. "Hey. But you didn't. They didn't. You did great."
She leaned back into my touch and sighed. "I need to let Viv know that happened, she was doing some magic for them tonight, I think, I..."
"Take a beat," I suggested, gently.
She nodded, and then leaned back even further, nestling herself against me. I felt the lines of her body against me; the curve of her ass on my thighs, the small, smooth frame of her back against my chest.
"I'm just glad you were here," she whispered.
"Well, if I hadn't been here, they wouldn't have been here," I said, reasonably. "And I'm pretty sure you saved the day in the end. I'm glad you were here."
"W-when she had me pinned down..." her voice broke, and she turned around into me, burying her face in my chest.
"Hey, it's okay. We're both okay. We did it together." I hugged her, and stroked her back with one hand.
I heard her let out a shuddering breath against me, and then relax. I could feel my own breathing slowing, too, the sensations of safety finally calming both of us.
Then she looked up at me with a small smile. "Viv's gonna be pissed you were here."
I shrugged. "Maybe. Probably." I hesitated, a thought occurring. "Viv won't try to kidnap me, will she?"
She laughed. "No. I don't think so. We're on good terms, not like...well, never mind." She bit her lip, sighing and nuzzling into me again.
She was warm, and she smelled good. Her petite frame fit neatly inside mine. My hands were on her low back.
She looked up at me, and I looked down at her.
It was good to be alive.
We were both giddy with it. I could see it written on her face too, and I kissed her.
She tasted warm, with a hint of sweet spice. She returned the kiss and at the same time, reached down to fondle my cock in my jeans. I wasn't hard yet -- my body was still catching up with the abrupt shift from fight-or-flight to safety -- but I was on my way there.
"I think we were going to do something else before we were so rudely interrupted," she murmured. She gently pushed me back against the counter, and got on her knees in front of me, looking up at me for a moment.
"You don't have to--" I protested, but she went to work unbuckling my belt and pulling my pants and boxers down around my ankles. She stared at my rapidly hardening length.
"You have a nice cock." She said it unabashedly, like she was just offering an unvarnished assessment of my penis.
It was incredibly hot. Looking down at her -- those gorgeous green eyes locked on my dick, the authentic appreciation in her voice -- it all sent the blood surging to my cock.
She started touching it, teasingly running her hands over the length in long, lingering touches.
"Did you like the blowjob I gave you last time?" She murmured the question.
I nodded, my mouth dry.
"This one is going to be different."
I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but as I was about to, she lowered her mouth and let out a long stream of drool, directly onto my cock. It was so sudden, so...well, vulgar. It was so completely at odds with Lauren's usual reserved demeanor that I was taken aback.
She started jacking me off. Slow strokes, using both of her hands on my shaft, tight around my slickening girth. I moaned.
"I'm gonna make this big dick cum for me." She whispered the words into the head of my cock, looking down at it; I could feel her breath on me.
I didn't know if it was the adrenaline, or the triumphant sense of alive-ness and relief we both clearly felt, but there was an aggression in her that I was surprised by.
And then she started trying to choke herself on my cock.
I haven't really ever had a woman try to deepthroat me. I mean, I've watched as much porn as any red-blooded American man. Obviously I've seen it done on video.
Experiencing it was something else. She kept eye contact with me as she impaled her mouth on my cock. I felt the warm, wet sensation of her tongue sliding along my length as she forced more and more and more of me into her mouth. It just kept going. Her eyes were tearing up by the time she backed off.
But as soon as she had backed off, taken in a gulping breath of air, she went right back to it, shoving my length back into her mouth. I closed my eyes, leaning back, and just gave in to the sensations.
Fuck. The sucking sensation as her mouth and throat massaged my length was incredible. There was an urgency to her movements, to the way she was shoving me inside her mouth, that was prompting a similar urgency in me.
I recalled the blowjob she'd given me earlier. It had been the best blowjob I'd ever gotten, hands down. She'd made me cum so fast.
Looking back down at her as she fucked her mouth with my cock, I realized that this was going to be another quick one, if she kept going like this. Fuck.
I felt one of her hands drift to my balls, fondling, massaging. The other went behind my ass, using it as leverage to continue to force as much of my thick length into her throat as possible.
It was all just overwhelming.
"Lauren--" I groaned out her name. I could hear the note of desperate embarrassment in my own voice. I wasn't sure whether to just let it happen, to ask her to stop, to warn her...
She pulled herself off of my length, gulping air. She was pumping me with both hands instead again now, jacking me off as she caught her breath.
She looked up at me. Her makeup was streaky, now, those perfect features messy.
"I know you can't hold it back," she whispered. "It's okay."
She bobbed back down onto my length a few more times before pulling off again and jerking me off.
"I like that you're going to lose it. That you can't help it," she said, quiet and confident.
I was breathing hard, now. I knew -- like she said -- I was already close to losing control. She wasn't...teasing or mocking me, exactly, but there was so much confidence in her voice. She was so sure that she could make me cum. It made me want to prove her wrong.
And then she bobbed again on my length. I felt her nose pressing into my groin, just above my dick, which was completely buried in her mouth. She made a small gagging-whimper sound as she looked up at me, those pretty green eyes watering.
I was trying to stave off the orgasm, but the sight -- and the feeling of her wet mouth on me -- was too much. I could feel myself cresting over the edge.
She pulled all the way back off a moment later, started pumping me with both hands, and angled my cock at her face.
"You're gonna cum right now." It wasn't a question.
She was right. Helplessly, inevitably, I let out a final moan as the orgasm swept over me and I lost control.
She made pleased sounds, pumping me as I started spurting onto her face. Rope after rope of cum sprayed across her. The sense of release was all-encompassing -- by the time it finished, I was slumped against the counter, barely capable of standing.
Lauren was a mess. Face covered in my cum, makeup smeared and runny, she grinned up at me and said, "I'm gonna go clean up."
---
I sat next to her on the couch, companionably finishing the glass of wine she'd poured me, both of us enjoying the quiet.
I thought about Lauren, how...odd this all was. Two days ago she'd just been some girl I'd matched with on a dating app, and she had just helped stop two other women from kidnapping me for the magical powers I possessed.
I was glad Lauren had been with me. I felt the same way about Viv and Diana, but with Lauren, because of how unsettled I'd felt at the end of our first date...well, it was a relief to feel like I could trust her.
That prompted a thought. "Hey...how'd you know to go on a date with me?"
"Hmm?" She had been leaning up against me, staring off into the middle distance, swirling the wine in her own glass.
"Like, how is it that you and I -- a witch and a thaumaturge -- ended up matching on an app in the first place? That has to be incredibly unlikely."
She sat up and leaned towards me, looking proud. "Ah. Good question. I used a spell. It works on the dating app. Makes it so I can only match with thaumaturges. It was super tricky to figure out how to use magic to mess with the way the app functions. Incredibly innovative. I don't think anybody's ever done anything like it before."
That prompted about a dozen different questions about what magic could and couldn't do, but I tabled them for now. "So...you used that spell for Viv, too, I take it?"
She nodded. "It works like an additional filter that has to happen for you to even show up as a match." She pulled up her phone and showed me. Sure enough -- I was her only available match.
"Huh. Gotcha."
I mulled that over, other questions racing through my mind.
I wondered how Diana had found me, since we hadn't met through the dating app.
I thought about pulling up the photo to show her from Viv's profile, to ask Lauren about the people in it. More witches, presumably.
Then another thought occurred to me. "What...what are they? Brooke and Maya and Clint? Wizards or something?"
"No. You...don't know?" She blinked. "Well, I guess that explains why you were willing to tangle with them. Um...they're Löwenmensch."
The word rolled off her tongue in perfectly accented German. Which I didn't speak. I looked at her, questioningly.
"Lion-people. Were-lions. Shapeshifters."
Oh.
