Recovery

Recovering, wearing some borrowed clothing, with hers needing repair or replacement before she could wear it with even the minimal sense of modesty she had, Lydia looked at the sorcerer.

He flicked his fingers, expecting something to happen, but nothing ever did. The look in his eyes showed the despair and shame he felt whenever he glanced at Lydia.

“I get that you are having issues, but I need to know what the fuck happened.” Lydia rubbed the mark on her breast, still hot like a sunburn.

“It was a demon.” He mumbled, holding his face in his hands. “It took my power with it when it went into you. I can’t do magic anymore.”

“Why didn't it work? Does it still have your magic?” Lydia looked at her hands, wondering if she could now learn to cast spells.

“No, it shouldn't have even been able to take it from me if it’s anywhere. It's within you.” He shamefully looked at her. “That mark, he sensed its power. But because I didn't know what it was, he didn't. Demons don't study things; they can only remember. What is it?”

“A devil thing. My old man sold his soul and tried to buy it back. Then had me and died, and now I gotta repay the debt. Or something like that. That's why I am here. I need those magic coins to buy my ass out of trouble.” Lydia would have commented how stupid that sounded if she wasn't still leaking cum out of her from the trauma.

“Oh, that meant the devil who owns your debt got in its way.” The surprise seemed to be enough to distract him for a moment. “Probably one of the few perks, I guess.”

When Lydia felt like she could walk, she borrowed the use of his shower and another set of clothes before leaving. On her way out the door, the sorcerer handed her a pouch with more pay than she had been promised. Not enough, but it was all he could afford with what he had on hand. At the hotel, she tossed the bag to Shad and carried on; she needed another shower before talking with anyone.