I looked at the beautiful sorceress and her entourage, my mind working through the situation rapidly. Not that I didn't want to talk to a beautiful woman, I was sixteen, after all, and my body had all the normal reactions any teenage boy would have. But it was one-hundred times worse thanks to the Witcher mutations.
But I hated talking to drunk people, and this woman gave me the impression she would be the pain-in-the-ass type of drunk, not the happy, fun kind. But it could be fun entertainment all the same.
My enhanced senses picked up more details now that I was paying attention. The alcohol on her breath was expensive wine, probably from Toussaint based on the fruity undertones. Her pupils were dilated, but not dangerously so. She was drunk enough to be bold, but not so drunk she'd lost control of her faculties. The four women behind her were younger, probably in their late teens or early twenties, and they carried themselves with the careful posture of students trying to impress their teacher.
I looked past the blonde to her companions and said, keeping my voice neutral, "You go everywhere with your friends?"
She waved her hand in an overtly dramatic gesture, nearly losing her balance before catching herself on my table. "They are my students, and I their teacher."
I raised an eyebrow, letting genuine curiosity color my voice. "Teacher?"
She straightened up, trying to look dignified despite the wine staining her breath. "I know I look too young to be one." A slight smile played at her lips, proud and knowing. "I'm only forty years old."
I didn't say anything to that. I knew mages, mainly female sorceresses, used all sorts of spells and magic to make themselves look younger. Glamours, preservation enchantments, even more extreme measures like alchemical treatments and surgical modifications enhanced by magic. It was an open secret in the magical community, though most sorceresses would never admit to it directly.
And it worked. Sorceresses like Yennefer in the Witcher world were always described as beautiful in the books and in the games I'd played in my previous life. I believed when she was introduced in, 'The Last Wish', book, she was seventy-seven years old, and in 'The Tower of Swallows', she was ninety-four. And she still looked amazing, like a woman in her mid-twenties at most.
And this woman in front of me did the same thing. I'd be lying if I said she wasn't good-looking. Her blonde hair caught the fading sunlight like spun gold, her skin was flawless and fair, her figure was curvaceous in all the right places, and those bright green eyes held an intelligence and power that was both attractive and dangerous.
"So you're a teacher," I said, keeping my tone conversational. "Shouldn't these girls be in school learning spells and not in some town in the middle of nowhere?"
The woman's smile turned sour as she sighed, a flash of genuine annoyance crossing her beautiful features. "These young ladies are close to finishing their education, and when that happens, since many mages of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers must offer their services, they need to get some hands-on experience." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "We handle the assistance to lords and ladies of the realm all over the continent, to ensure the kingdoms are being led by the best minds."
I knew that was a load of shit. I knew for a fact the goal of the mages, which were currently led by the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, was to control the responsible use of magic, guide the education of gifted children, and amass supreme political influence to steer the Continent's destiny from behind the thrones.
But instead of acting as impartial advisors, the Brotherhood mages viewed themselves as the ultimate stewards of the world's future. They placed their members in courts across the Northern Kingdoms, whispering in the ears of kings and queens, manipulating succession crises, and occasionally orchestrating coups when a ruler proved too independent or incompetent for their liking.
It was a system of soft power that had existed for centuries, and it was remarkably effective. Most common people had no idea how much influence sorceresses and sorcerers wielded over their daily lives.
I looked at the woman with a somewhat intrigued expression, playing along with her explanation.
"What do you mean by hands-on experience?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
She smiled at that, clearly pleased that I was engaging with her. "Well, they need to learn how to navigate court politics, how to advise nobles without appearing to control them, how to manage resources and information networks, so we help escort merchant caravans, and they watch how the merchants conduct business,." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "And of course, how to handle themselves when traveling with merchant caravans and dealing with the common folk, and the occasional bandits, and monster."
I nodded slowly, processing this. So these were future court sorceresses in training, learning the ropes before being assigned to some noble house. That explained why they were traveling with merchants, it was probably part of their education in logistics and economics. It's actually very practical that their doing this. Merchants see the flow of the economy and how laws and and conflict affect the market and how a rulers actions have a long term affect.
She stepped closer to me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her body. "But enough about boring politics and education," she said, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. "Tell you what, have a drink with me and we can talk about anything." She paused, her green eyes locked on mine. "Or not talk at all, which is what I prefer."
I felt my pulse quicken despite myself. "Not talk at all?"
"I've been stuck on the road for two weeks," she said, her hand reaching out to trace a finger along my forearm. "And the first thing I did after bathing was drink, so now I'm ready to relax."
"Relax?" I said, somewhat confused by her directness.
She gestured me over with a finger, a come-hither motion that was impossible to misinterpret. I stepped around my table and leaned in close, and she whispered directly into my ear, her breath hot against my skin.
"I hear Witchers have boundless stamina. I want to see if that's true."
I pulled back slightly to look at her face. Those lustful, fuck-me eyes were unmistakable, her cheeks were flushed from the wine and arousal, and her ample cleavage was on full display this close to her. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating, juniper and daisies, with an underlying musk that was purely her own.
I could smell her arousal, my enhanced Witcher senses picking up the subtle chemical changes in her body. She was looking for soem fun, and was ready to play games using me for her pleasure. That was... refreshing, actually, she's probablythe first woman ever to come on to me. Which feels sad at the same time.
I looked into her bright green eyes and said, keeping my voice low, "I don't even know your name."
She smirked, extending her hand in a graceful gesture. "Name's Neary."
I took her hand and kissed it, feeling the softness of her skin and the slight tremor of anticipation in her fingers. "Cain."
She smiled, pursing her full lips. They shined with a red glossy color, probably enhanced by some minor glamour spell. "Charmed."
I glanced at the four girls behind her, who were watching this exchange with wide eyes and barely concealed giggles. "If you want to test out that rumor, we're going to need somewhere more intimate."
Neary looked back at the girls, then turned to me with a wicked grin. "What, don't want an audience? Most of these girls still have their maidenhoods. Imagine the stories they'd tell of a Witcher showing them the first of many hot, steamy nights of their long lives."
I leaned in close again, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "I don't think you want to share your dessert until you've had a chance to savor it all to yourself."
She laughed, a genuine sound of delight. "Aren't you a clever one. And correct, I only share with my friends, and very rarely do I do that with my toys."
She turned to face the girls behind her, her expression shifting from seductive to authoritative in an instant. "Go on then, ladies. Tonight he is mine. Go and guard the caravan with the guards, and see how your luck is with them if you're desperate."
One of the girls, a brunette with nervous eyes, spoke up hesitantly. "But ma'am, the merchant and Calla said you were supposed to be in charge of us."
Neary's eyes flashed with annoyance. "I am your instructor, girl. Remember that, not Calla. Stop asking me to hold your hand. This isn't your first caravan, plus we are in a guarded town, not some woods in the open."
The girl quieted down immediately, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Yes, Lady Neary."
Neary smiled, satisfied, then turned back to me and extended her arm. "Your arm, dear Witcher."
I offered my arm, and she took it, pressing close against my side as we walked. I could feel the softness of her body, the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress. My heart was pounding, and I was acutely aware that I was about to lose my virginity to a forty-year-old sorceress who looked like she was in her mid-twenties.
This was not how I'd imagined my first time would go, but then again, nothing about my life had gone according to plan since I'd woken up in this world.
Some time later, we were at an inn called The Sleeping Maiden. I paid for a room, expensive, but worth it for the privacy and the clean sheets, and we went to the pub downstairs for another drink.
The pub was warm and crowded, filled with the smell of roasted meat, spilled ale, and unwashed bodies. We found a corner table away from the main crowd, and I ordered two mugs of wine. When they arrived, I took a sip and immediately regretted it.
"Gods, this is awful," I muttered.
Neary laughed, downing half her mug in one go. "You get used to it. Or you drink enough that you stop caring."
I set my mug down and looked at her directly. "I thought everyone distrusted elves, especially half-elves. Plus I'm a Witcher."
She raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her green eyes. "So you thought I would look at you like you had leprosy or something?"
"Something like that. I'm sorta use to it."
She smiled, leaning back in her chair. "Cain, we have elven sorceresses in the Brotherhood. The girl Calla is half-elven, if you can believe it."
I nodded. "I know. Her brother told me the story. "
Neary's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "So that was her twin brother? She's talked about him before, but I didn't think he was a Witcher."
"He is," I confirmed. "We went through the Trials together."
"You lot are so rare these days," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "It's better to say you're a dying breed."
I nodded, the weight of that truth settling over me. "Very true."
There was a moment of silence between us, and then I decided to be direct. "So is this foreplay for you, or are you trying to learn something about me?"
Neary smiled, clearly appreciating my bluntness. "Foreplay, yes. Plus I'm interested in you. I have never seen a Witcher of Elven descent like you. Brown skin like you're from the south or east of the continent." She leaned forward, studying my face with genuine curiosity. "Let me guess, Zangvebar? Or Zerrikania? Wait, no, what about Ofir? You must have received your golden eyes from your elven half, right? And the white hair from the Witcher mutations?"
I shook my head, taking another reluctant sip of the terrible ale. "No clue. I woke up with no memory of who I was besides my name in some random town when I was a kid. Naked. It was winter, and I was almost attacked by a vampire. A Witcher saved me, gave me a choice, and the rest was history."
Neary looked at me with genuine intrigue, her seductive mask slipping to reveal actual interest. "You woke up naked in the middle of some godforsaken town somewhere, and you were nearly attacked by a monster?"
I nodded. "Strange world, I know."
"And you decided to become a Witcher?" She shook her head in disbelief. "What, was being a half-elf not bad enough for you?"
I just looked at her, my expression neutral. "It's not all bad. I was trained to fight and kill. I came to find out I have a high affinity for magic."
"Oh really?" Her interest was clearly piqued now. "How high are we talking? Mage kind or Witcher kind?"
"Both," I said simply. "I take spells to a whole new level. Even a druid I met said that I should be taught by one in the future."
Neary smiled, a calculating look entering her eyes. "Tell you what. I'm not saying I will, but if you entertain me enough tonight, I will introduce you to a sorceress that can help you, Witcher."
I met her gaze steadily. "I'm ready when you are."
She downed the rest of her wine in one long gulp, then stood up, swaying slightly. "Let's go."
Back in my room, the air was thick with heat and the smell of sex. Loud moaning filled the space as I fucked Neary from behind, my cock sliding in and out of her so easily, her wetness coating my shaft with each thrust.
She moaned louder and louder, her face covered in sweat, her blonde hair plastered to her forehead and neck. I grunted, laying on top of her, fucking her deeper and deeper, my cock feeling her tighten around it with each stroke.
"Oh gods... gods... you're too big," she gasped between moans. "Don't stop!"
She wrapped her legs around my waist, her hands clawing at my back, adding the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Her nails dug into my skin, and I could feel blood welling up from the scratches, but it only heightened the sensation.
All I could hear were her moans and the wet noises of my cock going in and out of her in long, deep strokes. I felt her climaxing over and over, her pussy clenching around me in rhythmic waves, her whole body shaking with each orgasm.
I turned her over roughly, and while holding her hands down against the mattress, she looked back at me with wild, desperate eyes. "Be rougher," she demanded.
"Bite the pillow," I growled.
She did, and I started slamming my cock into her pussy from behind. Her moans got louder and louder, muffled by the pillow but still audible throughout the room. My groin hit her ass with each thrust, the smacking sound continuing on and on, a rhythmic percussion that matched our breathing.
"I'm going to cum," I warned her, feeling the pressure building at the base of my spine.
I slammed into her one final time, burying myself as deep as I could go, feeling the back of her vagina as I climaxed hard. She climaxed on my dick over and over again, her whole body convulsing with pleasure.
As she breathed heavily, her hair stuck to her face, covered in sweat, she managed to gasp out, "Gods, what they say about Witchers is true. But I didn't know you all were hung like horses."
I pulled my cock out of her slowly, watching as my cum began to leak out of her. "I don't know about the others. I can only speak for me." I looked down at my still-erect cock, veins popping along the shaft. "Now, are you ready for round two?"
She looked at me from where she lay on the bed, her eyes widening as she took in my size. I stood next to the bed, my cock at the level of her face, fully erect and ready to go again.
Before she could respond, I flipped her body easily until she was on her back with her head hanging off the edge of the bed, her face upside down and facing my cock.
"We're going to give your cunt a break," I said, my voice low and commanding. "And you're going to put that mouth of yours to good use. Now open it."
She smiled at me with lust in her eyes, clearly liking my assertive nature. "So forceful. I don't know if it will fit."
"Open," I commanded.
She opened her mouth, and I shoved my cock in, feeling the hot wetness of her throat. I could tell she didn't have a gag reflex, which meant she wouldn't choke on it like I wanted her to. Oh well.
I wrapped my hand around her throat and squeezed somewhat, feeling my cock through her skin as I shoved it back and forth through her mouth and throat. I heard the moaning sounds of her getting off on the roughness, the vibrations of her pleasure traveling up my shaft.
I shoved my cock all the way to the base, her lips touching my groin, her nose pressed against my balls. I did this over and over again, stroking slow and deep, until I felt my second climax building.
I pulled back slightly. "Let me see it."
She sat up on the bed, cum dripping from her pussy as she moved, and opened her mouth, letting me see my white, hot cum swirling and sitting in her mouth, coating her tongue and teeth.
"Good. Now swallow it."
She did in one big gulp, her throat working as she swallowed every drop.
Then she smiled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Got any more in you, Witcher?"
I grabbed her by the throat, pulling her close, seeing a lustful smile on her face. I knew in that moment I was dealing with a masochist, someone who got off on being dominated and controlled.
I said with cold eyes, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "You're not sleeping tonight until every one of your holes is filled with my seed."
She shivered at my words, her pupils dilating even further. "Well, I've tried that with a man before, but I haven't tried any of this with another man. So show me what you've got, Witcher."
I shook my head, tightening my grip on her throat slightly. "That's 'Master' for the rest of the night."
I slapped her face, not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to sting and show dominance. She blushed, her cheeks turning red, and said submissively, "Yes, Master."
I smacked her again, harder this time. "Now beg for it."
Her face went red from my grip on her throat and the pleasure she was feeling. Her voice came out as a desperate whimper. "Yes, Master Cain. Please ravish my body. I... am... yours."
She was quivering now, her whole body trembling with anticipation and arousal.
I then proceeded to fuck her deeply, engraving my essence into every part of her body. I took her in every position I could think of, on her back with her legs over my shoulders, bent over the desk by the window, standing against the wall, on her knees on the floor.
Each time I came, I made sure to mark her, cumming inside her pussy, her ass, her mouth, on her face, on her breasts, on her back. I wanted her to remember this night, to remember me, to remember what it felt like to be completely dominated and used.
When we were finally done, she was unconscious, completely spent. She lay face down, ass up, her body covered in sweat and my cum. Her ass and pussy were leaking my seed, white trails running down her thighs. Her hair was a mess, her body trembling, her lips swollen from kissing and sucking.
I was putting on my pants, my body finally starting to feel the exhaustion, thinking that was a hell of a night, and a way to lose my virginity.
My first time had been with a forty-year-old sorceress who looked like a goddess, who'd begged me to dominate her, who'd taken everything I could give and asked for more. It wasn't romantic, or gentle, but it was intense and memorable and exactly what we'd both needed.
I looked back at Neary's unconscious form on the bed, a small smile playing at my lips. Today would bring complications, I was sure. But last night? Last night had been fucking incredible.