You journey further into the dark Forests and try your hand at new magics.. with mixed results!

For two days you make your way further and further into the dark depths of Grimwald Forest and for two days you see nothing but dark, foreboding and strangely empty forest. Eisheth takes the watch at night declaring that her kind scorned sleep while she all but tucked you in beside the fire and you sleep fitfully, awakening at every nocturnal bird-call and rustle in the bushes. By the third day you can’t take it any longer….

“Eisheth,” You growl rubbing at your eyes after another poor night’s sleep and stumbling along the rugged path, “What, by all the powers, is going on? Where are the fabled creatures of the Grimward Forests?!”

Eisheth is walking beside you, her step light and her dark eyes bright despite two nights without sleep.

“Creatures, Master?” She asks looking up at you with surprise, “Many of them are watching us right now, why do you ask?”

You stop to look around warily, trying to call up the elements of a fire spell in your fatigued mind. Eisheth watches you for a moment then chuckles her voice rich and full of amusement.

“These weaklings are nothing to worry about master, little more than wisps, bogles and other rabble. These are the small-fry pushed out to the fringes of the forest by the bigger, stronger predators that dwell deeper within it. They will not bother us.”

“Really?” you ask searching for eyes in the leafy shadows, “Why not?”

“Because they recognize the robes of a magi on you, and any that might try their foul hand against a spell-caster still wouldn’t dare face me.” She says smugly then begins walking ahead again, “Don’t worry master, tomorrow we should see some real sport as we enter the heart of the forest and the foothills of the Iron Mountains.”

Annoyed by her arrogant confidence you decide you won’t face it unprepared. You think back over the spells in the old tome of Lust magic in your satchel, there was something in there that had sounded handy; what was it again?

It isn’t until the next campsite when you are slumped wearily beside the small camp-fire with the grimore in your lap that you find the spell that you want. It’s an enchantment of sorts, the type to imbue an object with power and create a magical artifact. An artifact was a powerful tool or weapon for a student of the magical arts and the name the Tome of Lust magic gives it makes you smile hungrily…

“The Rod of Domination”

The material components are quite simple; salt, charcoal, blood and fire, though the spell-craft is a little more complicated then you are accustomed to. For a moment you consider asking Eisheth for help but decide that you are becoming far too comfortable around the Succubus as it is. Instead you send her away to fetch firewood as you set to work.

Rubbing your tired eyes, you set to work drawing the magical insignia in the ground around the fire with salt and charcoal. You work fast knowing that Eisheth won’t be away long but maintain the schooled precision of an academy trained student of magic.

Kneeling above the fire you bite your thumb and let a few drops of blood hiss run down into the flames as you mutter the incantations and back them with the **** of your will. You are sweating from the mental effort by the time you have muttered the last words of enchantment and then freeze as you realize something is wrong…

…where is the object that will become the rod?

Your eyes snap open and you look down at a small but bright nexus of magic in your cupped hands as you kneel over the warm fire and try desperately to remember where in the spell it mentioned adding an actual rod of some kind.

Your hands are growing uncomfortably hot over the fire as you sneak a peek at the grimore lying open a few feet away. By the nether-hells, the ink at the bottom of the page was smudged and difficult to read…

You are trying hard to decipher the last requirements of the spell and fail to notice as the bright nexus of magic drifts down through your cupped palms and sinks into your lap where it fades, moving down through your robes.

A sharp stabbing sensation in your groin brings your attention back to the spell but it is already too late…

“Blood and shadows!” you gasp, your eyes wide with pain as you down into your empty hands then with growing horror at your aching crotch. “No, no, no…”

Hiking your robes up to your waist and pulling down your under-clothes you stare at your throbbing cock in dismay. It was glowing, a soft red throbbing glow that was accompanied with a stab of pain each time in pulsed. It also looked like it had begun to swell and not in the good way…

Groaning with agony you drop your robes back down and reach for the book, looking for any information that could help you, starting with the smudged bottom of the original spells page. The rod… the rod…

It takes you some minutes to puzzle out the bottom parts of the damaged page but you finally have it. The rod had to be something that had once been part of something living, that had been christened with blood and anointed with the dew of a woman’s flower.

That usually meant a piece of wood from some rare or mystical tree that had the enchanter’s blood on it and, being an artifact of lust; it needed the nectar of a woman’s sex on it too but wait…

Your silent musings are cut short as Eishieth steps out of the bushes with an armload of firewood. Gritting your teeth against the throbbing twinge in your groin you decide to keep your mouth shut and retire to your make-shift bed for the night.

The last think you needed right now was another lecture from your stunningly beautiful and utterly untrustworthy demonic servant.