Accept Master Elbegast's offer (bi male branch)

"Master Elbegast," you say. "Ah...to help me test it, were you thinking, ah...?"

"Yes, Mothwing, certainly," the Master of Devices says. "The best way to put your control to the test would be to have you raise magical energy, and then hold the magic while you're on the edge of spending. I have all sorts of devices here," he says, stroking his beard and looking around the workshop.

Indeed, a number of the devices in Master Elbegast's workshop appear to be crafted to be receptacles ready to receive a male member, and just as many appear to be capable of functioning in place of a male member to a high degree of approximation.

Master Elbegast looks at you, letting his lined face relax into a mild expression. "Of course the most straightforward way to bring you to the edge would be to futter your bum, if you fancy that."

You blink. "Oh," you say. "I've never, well, never had anyone do that. I'll have to think about it."

"No matter," he says. "Let's tidy up the shop, bathe, and see about how to test your warding ring after."

During your sessions practicing with enchanting devices and then working to craft your warding ring, the Master of Devices has been a helpful, patient instructor. So you don't have any personal fear. And even if there's some rule about the instructors staying off the scholars in training, well, from your own experience with the Nurse and the Mistress of Enchantments, it seems to be honored in the breach. Or, in this case, the breech.

Master Elbegast leaves you to stow the tools while he conjures a pocket whirlwind to sweep up the worktable and the floor. He stops by Dorothy's cottage to have the half-giantess Porter ready a bath for you in the chamber next to the laundry. While you're waiting, he asks you about your plans for your time at Boarbristle. You mention that alongside magical devices, you're interested in working with magical creatures.

"Second year's a good time for that," Master Elbegast says. "You'll want to be fast and confident with your spells. Maybe practice dueling to work on that. When we've had first-years work with magical creatures, well, unless they have it in their family, they're more likely to put themselves in danger. Even sometimes if they have. They think something that works on a hippogriff will work on on a dragonet, to their sorrow. And ours."

You nod. "So I'll have to wait?" you ask.

He says, "Well, if you're hot to touch a phoenix feather or cuddle an amphisbaena, you might winkle a visit by sweet-talking the handlers. But never go alone. Too dangerous for the likes of you." He pulls at his beard, looks up at the thin clouds in the late-autumn sky, looks back down and says, "You said Nurse likes you. She needs fresh spit and ooze and blood for some of her potions. Perhaps, as she's taken a shine to you, she'd take you along."

"BATH'S READY," Dorothy calls. The Porter's brassy voice can be heard from Boarbristle Academy down to the dock, and up to the ridges, if she puts her lungs into it. This time she's merely not taking trouble to be quiet. It still echoes off the courtyard walls, and your ears ring a bit.

"Thank you, Dorothy!" Master Elbegast calls out.

"WELCOME," Dorothy says. She plods back to her cottage, a former carriage house kitted out with furniture and fixtures in her size.

Boarbristle's Porter is not immensely tall, perhaps twice Master Elbegast's height, or half again the height of a tall man, but she's heavily built, and you can feel the vibrations of her footsteps. Dorothy never wears a skirt or trousers or much of anything below her waist, so you see her shaggy red bush of hair over her prominent mound of Venus as she approaches, and her grandly sized, deeply furrowed, muscular bum as she goes.

"Dorothy's a treasure," Master Elbegast says, nodding toward her departing buttocks. "Her mother was a giantess and her da one of Boarbristle's wizards a few years past. When she left her ma's home, her da made a place for her here. Sometimes she gets a bit, ah, lonely, halfway between woman and giantess, no one properly her size. We do what we can."

You wonder if the Master of Devices has engineered a half-giant-sized member to console Dorothy with.

You and Master Elbegast enter the bath chamber. When you've scrubbed and rinsed, you look over to Master Elbegast. He spends a bit longer soaping and rinsing out his beard. When you look below his waist, you're surprised to see that Master Elbegast is also wearing a device circling the root of his member, a bit more complicated than your simple ring.

"Oh, this?" Master Elbegast says, hearing you go quiet and following your gaze. "I'm rather proud of it, to be sure. Let me show you."

He frowns, his brows knitting together and his eyes narrowing to a squint. He breathes quickly and deeply, the air hissing out from his nostrils. His member twitches and rises, firming up to a full stand. It looks ordinary, from what you can see. You blink and frown, wondering what Master Elbegast is getting at.

"No, no," the stocky Master of Devices says. "That's not it. This is it."

He reaches down with both hands, each finger and thumb poised to grasp the root of his member. He holds the device with one hand and twists with the other. His stiff member swells in length and girth until it might indeed be the match for Dorothy's womanly well. It throbs with his pulse, and at that size, it's quite a sight. He twists the other direction, and it dwindles to the size of your forefinger. Still stiff as before.

"That's quite something, Master Elbegast," you say, thinking that you need to offer some appreciation.

"Makes it easy to fit wherever I go," he says. "Now, let's soak."

You sit in the warm water with the Master of Devices. His chin touches the water, while your head and shoulders rise above the water surface. He closes his eyes and soaks in the warmth and the steamy air, his lined face relaxing as much as it ever does.

After a time, he opens his eyes. "Shall we put your device to the test?" he says.

You towel off, dress, and return to Master Elbegast's workshop. He adjusts a chair, lowering the seat with a geared mechanism, looking over at you and back at the chair, until he's satisfied.

"Now let's have you raise some magic," he says. "The Earth's Root invocations should do nicely."

You raise your wand and concentrate, tracing the invocation symbols that tie your aura to the energy of the deep Earth. As you pull up Earth energy, you feel your willy swelling. There's a tickle of your Wild Magic rising along with it. Soon you're at full stand, your jewel bag tight against your shaft, just above the warding ring.

Roll +DILIGENCE(+2) to HAVE SEX with Master Elbegast.

⚁⚀ + 2 = 5, Miss.

"There now, Mothwing," Master Elbegast says. "Raise your robe, kneel on the seat, and hold on to the backrest."

The chair has a soft leather seat, and you have no trouble getting a good grip on the backrest.

"Now, lean forward. Lower. A little lower. There. Stay there," he says.

You hear Master Elbegast mutter a few words and feel the tingle of a magical effect. There's a gentle pressure at your opening and a slow, smooth sliding. The tingle of magic follows the rod as it goes into your body. But it seems narrower and longer than you had expected. And cooler.

His wand, you realize. It's not his willy, but his wand.

He draws it out slowly, then slides it in. Your willy stiffens and swells. You feel your Wild Talent crackling at the root of your willy, at the base of your spine, wanting to burst out and strip the whole of Boarbristle of every shred of clothing.

"You're doing well, Eric," he says, using your first name for once. "Are you close to the edge of no return?"

"Y-yes, Master Elbegast," you say. "It feels like I'm going to spurt so hard I'll punch a hole in the wall."

"That's good," he says. "Now, stay like that."

He slides the wand gently out of your bum. It leaves a warm and pleasant feeling behind, but also a hunger to be filled again.

"Please put it in," you say, your hunger finding a voice. "Put it in."

"Easy there," he says. You imagine he's fiddling with that ring, making his willy the match for your bum. "Now."

Master Elbegast's member slides into you. You sigh to feel yourself filled again. It's warm and snug and fits just right. The energy you invoked from the Earth's Root fills you, and your Wild Magic rumbles beside it, wanting release.

"Concentrate, now, hold your ward," he says. He starts to thrust into you, sliding in and out in a slow rhythm.

The magical energy fills you, feeling barely contained. Your warding ring helps you channel it, keeping it in your aura. Master Elbegast's thrusting member feels good inside. So good. Too good.

"Hold it, now, hold it, you've got it," he says.

You shiver with the sensations. Your hips twitch and your bum jolts from side to side, then presses back hard at Master Elbegast's stiff willy just as he's thrusting forward. His magical cock ring twists just a bit and suddenly his willy is half again its size.

"AH!" you cry out as your hole stretches out suddenly. Hold on, hold on, hold on, you tell yourself.

"OH!" Master Elbegast cries out. "OHH!"

There's a flash of heat and light and noise and a sharp twinge of pain and when the world stops sparkling and spinning, you find yourself lying dazed on the floor of Master Elbegast's workshop. Your robe is no longer to be seen, but your willy is still at full stand. Maybe more than full stand, from the way the swollen purple head stands out from the shaft.

"Master Elbegast?" you call out. "Are you alright?" Your head pains you when you raise your voice.

He sits up and blinks. He was still wearing a robe when he entered you, but he's naked now. Fat threads of white seed cling to the head of his drooping member. While it's ebbed from full stand, it's rather thicker and longer than when you first saw it in the bath.

Moments ago you were connected, shaft to bum. You and Master Elbegast have ended up halfway across the workshop from each other, the overturned chair midway between you.

"Well," he says. "I've not had that happen before. Mothwing, are you alright? You didn't hit your head, did you? No, don't get up, if you're dizzy we don't want you to fall down again." He looks at your stiff-standing willy. "I think you almost had it there."

His duties as an instructor pull him into action. He looks you over and ascertains that you've had a hard bump to the head.

"Sit for a moment, now," he says. He gestures with his wand. Your robe rises up from a high shelf where it had lodged and floats back to drop itself over your head. You wiggle your arms into the sleeves. He retrieves his own robe from a bracket on the back wall and drops it over his head. "At least our robes survived this time. Given, ah, the **** provocation, I might count this a success in controlling your Wild Talent. So, you should demonstrate to the Mistress of Enchantments, and perhaps your House Tutor. But first, let us take you to the Nurse." He shakes his head and grunts. "Heh. If we have occasion to couple in the future, I shan't wear my ring, and I trust you will reach satisfaction. I pride myself on it."

It's not unthinkable to you, but it seems unlikely. Of course, it had felt quite good to receive Master Elbegast's thrusting shaft. Until his willy suddenly expanded and your Wild Talent got out and you and the Master were blasted apart, head over heels across his workshop. You're not eager to repeat that part of it.

"If there's a next time," you say, "maybe I should be going into you."

"Maybe so, Mothwing," he says. "Maybe so."

Master Elbegast turns you over to the Nurse, who greets you with a hint of a smile on her thin, lavender-gray lips. She grips her hands together, the sleeves of her white robe swishing.

"So what have we here?" she says, looking you over.

"Bump on the head," Master Elbegast says. "No magical complications. He's dizzy but he walked here on his own feet."

The green snakes sprouting from her scalp flicker their forked tongues at you. With curiosity, perhaps. Would Miss Wormwood's snakes count as enchanted creatures? you muse. Probably not, for any practical purpose.

"Thank you, Master Elbegast," Miss Wormwood says. "Come along, Mister Mothwing-Marshall."

She examines you, looking closely at each eye. She leans close to your ear on each side. You feel a tickle as one of her snakes tastes you there. Back in front, and a flickering snake-tongue tickles each nostril, and another brushes your lips.

"Not as serious as it could be," she says. "But we shall have you here overnight, and perhaps longer if any ill manifestations arise. Lie down here in my office, there, on the low bed. On your side, now. There."

Your head still aches. With your eyes closed it hurts less, but you feel dizzy and queasy.

One of Miss Wormwood's snakes stretches insistently at the direction of your hips, bending and stretching again. "What is it?" she mutters. "Oh. Do you have another contribution for me, Mr. Mothwing-Marshall?"

Your robe is tented out over your hard, throbbing willy.

"Ah, I suppose, Miss Wormwood," you say.

She smiles, her thin lips stretching broadly and revealing her sharp, even teeth. "I must collect it, then." She fetches a bottle whose mushroom-shaped cork is a little bigger than the head of your willy. She draws up your brown House Beavertail robe. When your member is revealed, she frowns, then raises her eyebrows. "No magical complications, eh, Master Elbegast?" she says. "This may be some small trouble to remove, Eric. It's keeping you, let us say, bottled up. And that will keep it on." She sniffs. "Men," she hisses.

Your warding ring is snug around the swollen root of your willy.

"Oh, no," you say. "I made the ring. I can release it. Or, well, I suppose, at least I can unbottle myself?"

"Well then," Miss Wormwood says. She grasps your shaft with her cool, slim fingers and holds the mouth of the bottle to the tip of your willy. "Do so."

You're supposed to be able to release the ward by wishing, but just wishing doesn't seem to work this time. You bring one hand down, forefinger extended, and touch the top of the ring. "Exsolvo," you intone. The root of your member twitches, then clenches hard. A bolt of liquid lightning rushes up the shaft of your willy and shoots out the tip. "Ah, AHHH!" you cry out with release. Your willy pulses again and again. "AH, AHH, AHHHH!"

"I can hear you quite distinctly, Eric," Miss Wormwood says, sounding irritated. "Ah, good. That's good. That's very good." Your pulsing willy settles down, releasing a few final spurts. "Ah. there. I was afraid you would overflow the bottle."

Tingling warmth flows in streams along the nerves and sinews of your body. You're sure your aura must be big and bright, but you can't concentrate enough to perceive it. The whole world seems to rock gently around you like a cradle. Your eyelids flutter from open toward closed.

"Now, then, we can't have you drifting off with a bump to your head," Miss Wormwood says. She corks the bottle of your seed and sets it down somewhere, returning with her wand. She traces a careful, subtle spell that sets your nerves abuzz. "Lie quietly now," she says.

You take a deep breath. You still feel the wash of warmth and pleasure from your release, but you're no longer drowsy, and the world isn't rocking around you now. You lie quietly and watch as Miss Wormwood bustles about, doing her office chores and occasionally seeing a junior scholar, dispensing a remedy or charging them with a set of strict instructions.

It must be quite a while. The light fades from the window of Miss Wormwood's Infirmary office. But you don't feel bored or vexed or sleepy. It's enough to lie on your side, just breathing, and watching Miss Wormwood's long, slender form as she moves. On another woman, her figure might be called willowy. With Miss Wormwood's taut limbs and quick motions, she reminds you more of ship's cordage thrumming in the wind, of steel wires poised to vibrate or snap, or catgut waiting for the touch of horsehair and rosin to sing out with loud, bright music. The front of her robe curves out slightly with her small, gently sloping breasts. And then there are her green, scaly serpents, swaying round her scalp where another woman would have hair. Sometimes they follow her gaze, dozens of glittering eyes magnifying her attention. Sometimes they bend in every direction at once. Sometimes they move in ranks, in waves, in ripples like wind through grass.

At length Miss Wormwood touches your forehead with one cool finger. You blink and cough, and the spell of timeless attention lifts. Your head still aches a bit. You need to piss.

Miss Wormwood repeats the close inspection that she gave you when Master Elbegast brought you to her. She nods, her snakes bowing together in an echo of her motion. "If there was any complication, I would expect to see it by now," she says. "Let's have you sleep here."

You wave your hand in front of the belt of your robe. "Ah, Miss Wormwood, I, ah..."

"Need to piddle? Good. Let's take care of that and then we'll get you settled."

The Nurse helps you rise from the low bed and walks you off to a side room. You stagger a bit, and she steadies you with effortless strength. When you're firmer on your feet, Miss Wormwood indicates an appropriate place to point your willy. She keeps a hand on your shoulder as your stream drains out the pressure inside. You still have your warding ring on round the root of your willy. You suppose the ring might end up being your closest friend, so to speak, as long as you're at Boarbristle, at least during class and magical practice.

Miss Wormwood lets you shake off the last drops and walks you to a room with more of a proper bed. Her slim, strong fingers make you think more of a wrestler or jailor than a nurse, but that is how she is, strong and tightly wound.

Miss Wormwood helps you get settled and tucks in the covers round your shoulders.

"Sleep, Mister Mothwing-Marshall," she says.

You obey.

As an alternate failure result on a MISS when you HAVE SEX with Master Elbegast, take a CONSEQUENCE and roll to GET OUT OF THE INFIRMARY.

You have 0 XP, Ambition -1, Bravery +1, Cunning +2, Diligence +2.

Miss Wormwood the nurse owes you a FAVOR for your donations of seed.

You are in PATERNITY. Treat Ms. Sterling as a FRIEND (your assigned tutor vs. wild magic; +2 to ENCOUNTER) and as a HANGER-ON (-1 to rolls vs. Ms. Sterling, you may have to DEAL WITH YOUR HANGER-ON). Ms. Sterling owes you a FAVOR.

You owe a GOAL (-2 vs. Cunning) to Ms. Sterling: demonstrate your control of your Wild Talent, so you won't strip yourself, your classmates, or your instructors by accident. You might use Ms. Sterling's FAVOR to help set up the attempt to ACHIEVE YOUR GOAL in an advantageous way, or use Miss Wormwood's FAVOR to get a potion that will clear your mind and help you concentrate.

You have the CONSEQUENCE: Knock on the Head, -1 to all rolls until resolved.

Once you're out of the Infirmary, you can try to ACHIEVE YOUR GOAL, or perhaps get help removing a remaining CONSEQUENCE first.

Roll +BRAVERY(0) (+1 Bravery, -1 CONSEQUENCE) to GET OUT OF THE INFIRMARY.