Warlock academia: Jacked

by Cockatrice   

Clayton volunteers to help his warlock flatmate with a big school project, though he has no idea what he’s getting himself into.

Clayton got home after a long day at the store. Work was exhausting and all he wanted was to drop down on the couch for the evening. Luckily, he was off tomorrow.

He quickly got out of his shoes and jacket, threw his backpack into the open door to his room and made his way to the couch. His flatmate Damon was already sitting there, watching Clayton approach while the TV was running.

Clayton plopped down with a sigh and threw his head back.

For a few seconds, there was only the sound of the TV, until Damon spoke up.

“How was work?”

“Horrible,” Clayton replied without moving or opening his eyes.

“Customers giving you trouble?”

“Always do.”

“I see,” was Damon’s only reply.

After a few seconds, Clayton opened his eyes. Damon’s behavior was suspicious. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Damon was sitting on the edge of the couch, his hands in his lap, clearly unsure how to continue. Clayton thought Damon was cute when he was nervous. “We, uh, have to turn in a new project.”

Now Clayton moved his head up from the backrest. “Oh?”

“Well, you see,” Damon stammered. “I wanted to ask, if you’re—if you want—I need a volunteer.”

“Lust magic again?”

“Yeah. It’s a big one this time.”

“A big one?” Now Clayton was interested. Damon was attending university for warlocks and Clayton had volunteered to be Damon’s transformation subject multiple times now, every time improving a part of his physique in some way. The last time he agreed to be a volunteer for a project his cock grew to obscene proportions. It was supposed to shrink back to its normal size, like the other transformations before, but for some reason it stopped at double the size, leaving him with a massive member in his pants. He wondered what ‘big’ meant here.

“It’s a name project.”

“What’s that?”

“You ever wondered why the other students have normal-sounding names while the professors don’t?”

Clayton shrugged. “I thought they were just old names. They’re like centuries old, right?”

“Sure, but that’s not the reason for their names,” Damon continued. “When a warlock has proven mastery over a certain type of magic, they will choose their true name. It’s a form of graduation, I guess.”

“So, it’s your final project then?”

“It’s possible. Warlock education doesn’t have a strict schedule. Everyone can graduate at their own pace. The time it takes for someone to get their true name differs for everyone. Some specialize in forms of magic that are harder to master. Everyone has different strengths and weaknesses. Just because someone’s strength isn’t speed, doesn’t mean they won’t be a formidable warlock later on.”

“How does someone choose their true name?”

Damon shrugged. “The way you choose anything. It needs to be unique for each warlock, but other than that everything’s fair game.”

“It needs to be unique?” Clayton smirked. “How long until they have to add numbers to the names?”

“It’s a concern, but there aren’t many warlocks. It’ll be a while until we have to find a new system.”

“Why is it called a true name anyway, if you get to choose it?”

“In the past, they used trance to find their true name,” Damon explained. “That’s where the nomenclature comes from, but it’s been found out that the actual name doesn’t matter, just that you have one.”

“Why?”

“Because names have power. That’s the base principle behind magic. That’s how incantations work. The glyphs and the words themselves are largely irrelevant, it’s the meaning behind them that does the magic. Having a name that’s unique for me means that the name works only for me and the magic can focus on it. It acts as a lens for the spell.”

“Huh,” was Clayton’s only reply.

“Anyway, back to the topic, are you up for it?”

“Is it going to be permanent?”

“No.”

Clayton rested a hand on his crotch, feeling his oversized dick. “Then sign me the fuck up.”

“Don’t you wanna know what it is, first?”

“Look, your transformations have been amazing so far and I’m too tired for the details.” Clayton leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’m game.”

“Well, thanks, man. It means a lot to me.” The joy and relief in Damon’s voice was audible. “I’ll prepare everything, so we can do it tomorrow.”

Clayton lay down on Damon’s special summoning mat that his flatmate had put down in the middle of his room. It was a pretty common way for warlocks to draw the necessary patterns for spells without having to do it directly on the floor.

As he was getting comfortable, Damon was double-checking the lines and the arrangement of candles around the mat. Besides him was a fleshjack with an asshole opening.

“You couldn’t have tidied up before we start?” Clayton smirked.

“Mmh?”

Clayton nodded to the fleshjack.

“This?” Damon held up the sex toy. “That’s part of the transformation.”

“Oh, man, seriously?” Clayton teased. “You’re going to jerk me off while the spell is working?”

Damon didn’t say a word, but his face was serious.

Clayton looked at the fleshjack again. Part of the transformation… Now he got a tiny bit worried. “What kind of transformation are we talking about?”

Damon was visibly startled at the question. “Now you’re asking?!”

“Well, I mean, yeah?” Clayton shrugged in confusion. “The last spells didn’t include fleshjacks.”

“The spell is gonna turn you into one.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, like, I mean, not really,” Damon sighed. “I don’t wanna bother you with the details.”

“Then gimme the rundown.”

“I’ll merge you with the fleshjack, basically,” Damon tried to explain. “But physically you’ll be a head.”

“A head?”

“Just a head, yeah. No body below the neck.”

“So, just a head attached to a fleshjack?”

“No, just a head,” Damon corrected him. “Period.”

“Then which part of me will be fleshjack?”

Damon was struggling for the right words. “All of it, I guess? It’s not a physical merge like that. It’s more that I will merge the essence of a fleshjack into you, so you will hopefully enjoy being used like one.”

Clayton raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” Damon exhaled. “I can’t really explain how it works, because that’d require me to go down to the fundamentals of how transformation even works at its most basic level. The important bit is, you will be a head, a fully human head, and you won’t have a body. That’s it.”

Clayton was thinking. Past transformations were simply enhancing his physique in some way, not reducing him to a single body part or merging the essence of an object into him, whatever it meant. “And you’re sure it works?”

“I tried it on golems.” Damon shrugged.

“Wait, if you can do it on golems, what do you need me for?”

“Golems are organic constructs, but they aren’t really alive. The lust school doesn’t accept them as transformation subjects.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Damon sighed. “Magic does affect them in subtly different ways. But I’m pretty sure I addressed all the cases in how the spell works differently on humans than on golems. You don’t have to worry.”

“How sure?”

“Like… 99%?” Damon forced a smile.

“Mmh…”

Damon’s smile faded. “You wanna call it off?”

Clayton didn’t say anything for a few moments, then he let out a deep sigh. How could he say no to Damon’s puppy eyes? Sometimes he wondered if he used a spell to enhance the effect, but that would be envy magic, which Damon wasn’t studying. “Fine, I guess I trust you.” He narrowed his eyes. “...enough.”

Damon smiled, visibly relieved.

“Plus, I kinda already agreed to it, didn’t I?” Clayton sighed. “At least I’m gonna get to be off work for…?”

Damon shrugged. “A few days, maybe a week?”

“Sounds good.” Clayton knew from past transformations that he, or rather his workplace, would get compensated for any losses incurred by him suddenly not working. Warlock society operated without money, seeing as being able to conjure gold renders any sort of physical possession worthless. However, as an agreement, warlocks were not allowed to interfere with non-warlock finances. They were not allowed to buy and sell. Situations like this, however, were exceptions. Trivialities like everyday chores would not stand in the way of a warlock’s education. “Let’s go.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you big time for this.”

“You really do.”

“All right, I’ll just… Start then.”

Damon began lighting the candles one by one. Clayton didn’t move his head, but he knew from past rituals that the warm feeling below him meant that the lines started to glow. Damon placed the fleshjack somewhere between Clayton’s legs, without a doubt at a very specific location.

Then Damon started reading in a notebook where he had presumably written down the spell. He was idly gesticulating as he was reading the words. Normally the incantation was spoken out loud, but Damon had told Clayton in the past that doing so was technically not required. It was just a better way to focus. The important bit was reading the words and imbuing the spell with intent. Damon didn’t feel comfortable loudly chanting the spell, but watching him silently gesticulating with his inner voice seemed almost as ridiculous to Clayton, if not more so. He’d have teased Damon for it, but Clayton didn’t want to break his concentration. Who knows what would happen if a transformation spell went wrong?

After some moments, Damon put down the notebook and watched Clayton’s body. Clayton felt a warm tingly feeling creeping over his body and then without forewarning his head tilted slightly forward and rolled on its side.

Clayton let out some startled sounds, before finding his words. “Is it done? Did it work?”

Damon picked Clayton up and investigated him. “Yeah, looks good. No sign of fleshjack material.”

“Can you show me in the mirror?”

“Sure.” Damon got up and walked to his wardrobe mirror, holding Clayton so that he could see himself.

“Hot damn…” Clayton said to himself. “When I get my body back, my cock better be at double size still.”

“No promises.”

Clayton glared at his roommate.

“Come on, that was a freebie,” Damon pointed out. “It was supposed to go back to normal size anyway.”

“Hrmph.” Clayton decided to change topics. “Anyway, when’s the presentation?”

“I can bring you tomorrow. We don’t have set dates for the presentation… but…”

“But?”

“I’ll have to hand you in for evaluation as well.”

“Evaluation?” Clayton was confused. In the past he would simply show up in class with Damon, present the transformation and that’s it. “What does that mean?”

“Well, like… I have merged the essence of a fleshjack into you…”

“Continue…”

Damon swallowed. “So your performance as a sex toy will be graded… Meaning my professor will have to evaluate you.”

“Uhm…”

“Personally.”

Clayton spent most of the next day in Damon’s bag, mainly because he was easier to transport this way. When he was finally pulled out, Damon set his transformed flatmate down on his table in his classroom.

Most of the other students barely cast him a glance. They were all studying lust magic so they had already seen plenty of transformations and given that their projects were due, it wasn’t unexpected for fellow students to bring transformed people to class.

Still, Clayton always felt a little bit uneasy, especially due to his current condition. In the past, he could simply just sit there with Damon, almost like a buddy in a two-person project, but this time there was no pretending he wasn’t the project.

As the students trickled in, one of them approached Damon’s desk. His name was Will, and he was a bit of a dick.

“It’s so nice of you to help out the freshmen with their projects, Damon.” Will had an insufferable grin on his face. “But where is yours?”

“I’m not a freshman project!” Clayton protested. Truth be told he didn’t exactly know what grade Damon was in, but from what Damon had told him this was a rather important project.

Damon ignored Clayton’s outburst. “That is my project.”

“What, you think the professor will even dignify a simple reduction with a grade?” Will sneered.

“Watch what you say, asshole!” Clayton didn’t know why he was suddenly so defensive, but the way Will talked about him and Damon rubbed him the wrong way.

Damon put a hand on Clayton to signal him to keep his mouth shut. “It’s not a reduction.”

“What is it then?” Will asked.

Damon kept his cool. “A merge.”

Will glanced down at an angry Clayton. “One part human and two parts rabid raccoon?”

“Shut your goddamn—” Clayton was cut off by Damon.

“Inanimate object merge.”

Will eyed Clayton and then made a skeptical face. “Looks like you failed. I don’t see any inanimate parts.”

“It’s not a physical merge. I only took the essence,” Damon said as nonchalantly as possible.

Will’s face changed. Gone was the smugness. He seemed surprised, almost afraid, though of course, he tried to hide it. “You—you’re telling me you found a solution to essence immiscibility?”

Suddenly several of the nearby students perked up and looked over at their conversation.

Damon finally made eye contact with Will. “Yes.”

Before Will could reply, professor Wenos entered the classroom. Despite his age of nearly three centuries, he didn’t look much older than the students. Youth spells and potions were simple and cheap and virtually all warlocks made use of them. A warlock’s appearance was a matter of personal preference and not one of age. Some decided to stay in their twenties forever, others preferred the look of a middle-aged man with slight streaks of gray in their hair. Even Damon was significantly older than a non-warlock student at a comparative level of education, somewhere in his mid-forties, as opposed to his mid-twenties as his physical appearance would suggest. Clayton didn’t know his precise age, though, as Damon was a bit cagey about that.

“The professor will have to verify that,” Will hissed through his teeth and left for his desk.

Damon couldn’t resist having the last word. “He will.”

“Good morning, class,” Professor Wenos finally said as he stood by his desk. “As always, I want to ask, has anyone brought their project today?”

Damon brought up his hand. None of the other students did.

“Damon,” the professor acknowledged the raised hand and walked over to Damon’s desk. “Let’s see what you got.” He gave Clayton a quick glance, possibly trying to figure out what transformation it was. “I hope it isn’t a reduction.”

“No, master.” Damon pulled out his notes and handed them to the professor. “Inanimate essence merge.”

The professor gave Damon a surprised look before going briefly through the papers. For a few moments, the entire room was silent enough that Clayton could hear Damon trying to swallow his nervousness.

“Fascinating,” the professor finally said. “If this is true…” He trailed off, going through the rest of the notes, until he put them down on the table and looked at Clayton. “I will take your familiar with me for evaluation and, naturally, verification.”

“Of course.”

“Do you require any paperwork for the liaison bureau?”

Damon nodded to Clayton. “Only compensation for his workplace.”

“Naturally.” Professor Wenos pulled out a blank card and blew on it. Suddenly black glyphs appeared on the card as if it was soaking up ink from his breath. He shook it as if to let the ink dry and handed the card to Damon. “I’ll collect him after class.”

A few hours passed until Clayton was pulled out of the professor’s bag. He spent the entire day in there while Wenos taught other classes.

Clayton looked around him. He wasn’t in the school anymore. Instead, he was situated on a coffee table inside what looked like the professor’s home. Everything seemed oddly modern and mundane, but the more Clayton looked around, the more he noticed strange details, from floating lights to potted plants he’d never seen before. He could swear one of them had a bulb that looked like a human head but without the eyes and nose. Clayton wasn’t a botanist, but he was pretty sure that was not a natural plant.

After the professor had gathered the notes, he sat down on the couch in front of Clayton. “Well then, this will be an interesting one.”

“I take it you don’t get many disembodied heads for evaluation?”

“Mmh?” The professor looked confused for a brief second before he continued. “Oh, far from it. Reducing someone to just a head is a very common submission for beginners. It tests all the fundamentals of lust magic, showing that they have a good grasp on transformation before they move on to more ambitious projects.”

“Then what is interesting about me?”

“About you?” The professor peeked over the papers at Clayton. “Absolutely nothing. About Damon’s documentation on the other hand… In my entire tenure, I have never seen a submission so ambitious. And you are sitting here right in front of me, seemingly proof that it isn’t just an illusion.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“How much do you know about magic?”

Clayton wanted to shrug, then he remembered he didn’t have a body anymore. “Not much. Damon often tells me about how it works, but I feel like I understand only half of it.”

The professor raised an eyebrow. “He tells you a lot about magic and warlocks?”

“Yeah. What, he’s not allowed to?”

“There is no law against it, but generally warlocks tend to be more secretive.” The professor looked at Clayton for a moment. “He must think highly of you.”

“Eh, we’re flatmates, stuff comes up. I tell him about work all the time.”

The professor looked at Clayton briefly, but then changed topics. “Anyway, the reason this transformation is so impressive is because he’s created a stable mixture of animate and inanimate essences.”

“I thought you guys merge objects into people all the time.”

“Physical merges? Yes. Child’s play. This—” Wenos pointed at the papers in his hand. “This is different. Nobody has been able to merge inanimate and animate essences in recorded history.”

“What does that mean anyway? What is the essence of a fleshjack?”

“What makes a fleshjack a fleshjack?”

“Dunno, the hole?”

The professor dismissed the answer with a hand wave. “Cheese has holes too.”

“Well, the overall shape I guess,” Clayton thought. “The material?”

“No, none of that. Fleshjacks come in different forms. Some have a mouth hole, others an asshole. I can make their casings and even the sleeves inside from different materials. No, the real essence of a fleshjack is, for the lack of a better word, intent. But even that is a faulty reduction of what essence truly is.”

Wenos looked at Clayton but he must have looked confused as the professor continued. “In truth, essence is the most fundamental of the forces that make up our universe, more fundamental than physics, than math even. Reality is made from and held together by will.”

“Whose will?”

“That is a question that nobody has been able to answer yet.”

“Huh.”

“Anyway.” Wenos put the papers down and got comfortable on his sofa. He pulled out a small vial and downed the contents. “Let’s begin.”

“What’s that? Drugs?”

“Arcane sight.” The professor unzipped himself and fished out his dick and balls. “Allows me to see the spell. Otherwise, I cannot evaluate Damon’s work.”

The professor picked up Clayton. “Ready?”

“I guess.”

“All right, first—” The professor set Clayton down right in front of his junk. His musk filled Clayton’s nostrils. “-some foreplay. Lick my balls.”

Clayton was pushed into Wenos’s crotch and did as he was told. If he were to be completely honest, he was a little bit disappointed. The professor’s dick looked so much more delicious than his balls, but he did it for Damon’s grade, he guessed.

As he took Wenos’s balls in his mouth, the professor moved his fingers through Clayton’s hair. He was clearly enjoying the treatment.

Eventually, the professor moved Clayton away a little bit. “Most impressive.”

“Am I doing good?”

“Oh, I was talking about the spell.” Wenos gave his cock a quick stroke to prepare it for the next part. “Damon used for the transformation irrelevant spells as a seal to keep others from degrading. I haven’t seen spells used this way in a long time and never in this complexity.”

The professor shoved Clayton towards his cock.

Clayton had just enough time to open his mouth to welcome the hot shaft into his mouth. He moved his tongue around the throbbing meat and swallowed the salty precum that continuously dribbled from Wenos’s slit.

It wasn’t the first time that Clayton had sucked dick, but this time was the best it had ever felt. He figured as a lust professor Wenos had done a couple of minor upgrades to himself.

Clayton was shoved back and forth on the professor’s cock and he got a little bit into a rhythm with his tongue. He enjoyed everything about the situation: The taste, the movement, the smell. He looked up at Wenos, who continued studying magic only he could see with his arcane sight.

“Marvelous,” the professor talked to himself. “A triple resonance harmony.” He let out a pant as Clayton worked his tongue around the glans. “Contained within an asymmetrical glyph seal.”

Clayton closed his eyes. The professor was lost in his own little place of academics. Clayton decided to get lost in his place of pleasure.

Wenos continued talking to himself, though over time his exclamations of surprise became more rare. Instead his movements got more energetic and Clayton could feel the tip of the professor’s cock against his throat. Every time it felt like the cock reached further back.

Then Clayton could feel it, a split second before it happened. Wenos’s grip became stronger and the final push sent his cock deep down Clayton’s throat. At first he thought he would gag but nothing happened, except for the pleasurable feeling of being filled, not just with throbbing cockmeat, but also with the professor’s hot cum.

After several blissful moments, Wenos slowly pulled Clayton off his cock and put him down on the table. He didn’t even bother setting him upright.

The professor caught his breath for a few seconds. “You’re quite the piece of work.”

“Thanks.”

The next day Clayton was put back in the professor’s bag and pulled out again in the classroom.

Damon approached the professor’s desk to collect Clayton. “Master?” Damon pointed at his flatmate. “May I?”

Wenos waved him off as if he didn’t have to ask. “Of course.”

Damon hoped the professor would be saying something else, but when there was nothing else, he made his way back to his seat and placed Clayton on his desk.

Once everyone was seated, the professor stood up. “Good morning, class. Has anyone brought their project today?” He looked around but nobody said anything. “No? Well then.” He produced a small sphere and gently lifted it into the air where it floated in the center of the room. Then it emitted flowing lines around it, forming a pattern, almost like a hologram.

Professor Wenos paced around the room as he inspected the pattern. “This is Damon’s project.” He gestured towards Clayton. “Can anyone tell what the spell does?”

Will raised his hand and the professor gestured for him to go ahead.

“It attempts to merge an inanimate essence with an animate one.”

“What makes you think that?” The professor asked.

Silence.

“I see.” Wenos continued pacing. “You talked. But it’s true. The spell not only attempts to merge two essences of different vitalities, it actually solves essence immiscibility.” He positioned himself at a specific location and pointed at a glyph, which started glowing. “Most of these components seem haphazard and ill-fitting, but if you look more closely—” Now different glyphs started to glow one by one. “-you will see that each connects at a crucial point to the main spell. These components themselves are then held in place by seals, and so on, and so forth. 99% of the spell exists only to keep it stable. The actual transformation itself seems almost like an afterthought in terms of complexity and scope.”

“Master.” Will raised his hand.

“Yes?”

“On the left there is a scarlet ribbon holding together the elemental cartouches. Wouldn’t a double-crossed ring be more effective? The ribbon prevents the flow of the elements, which requires them to be rerouted through the main spell itself.”

“Mmh, yes, that is true,” Wenos had to admit. “That could potentially cause problems.” He looked at Damon.

“I was aware of that,” Damon explained. “I tested the spell thoroughly on golems to make sure there was no leak.”

“Thorough testing does not replace theoretical proof,” Will pointed out. “There could have been plenty of subtle differences in circumstance that could have messed up the spell.”

“That is true, as well,” Wenos ceded.

“And there are quite a few dead ends that don’t do anything,” Will continued.

Damon looked down to avoid eye contact with the professor. “I had to tinker with the spell a lot as I was patching out errors. I know I should have cleaned it up, but…”

The classroom was silent for a few moments.

Eventually, professor Wenos stepped towards the class as a whole.

“During my entire tenure,” Professor Wenos began. “I have not seen anything like this. The complexity and the ambition is beyond anything I have seen of students at your level, and in some ways even among masters of their craft.” He made a dramatic pause. “After thorough examination and deliberation, I have decided to grant you not only your true name, Damon, but a perfect grade for your project as well.”

“Master, I must object!” Will cut in. “A perfect grade requires a perfect execution. This is anything but.”

The professor slowly made his way over to Will’s desk.

“You are not entirely wrong. There is plenty of room for improvement,” Wenos said. “However, this particular instance is exceptional. Damon solved a problem that has been thought by many to be unsolvable for centuries. Giving him anything but a perfect grade would mean I would have to reduce everyone else’s to be fair.”

“Master,” Will stammered. “The rules say—”

Wenos cut him off. “Do not worry, the grade will be verified by two other professors, as always. Should they disagree with me, then…” He trailed off and regarded Will for a few moments before he flicked his hand.

Faint wisps of energy appeared around the room, so subtle they could be easily missed.

More noticeable was the hum that accompanied the wisps. It was enough to mask Clayton whispering to Damon. “What’s that?”

“Envy magic.” Damon bent down slightly so he could keep his voice down. “It’s a verity spell. Makes it impossible to lie.”

“I thought Wenos was a lust professor.”

“It’s a simple spell, entry level really. Besides, the floors of all classrooms have a verity rune embedded into the floor.”

The professor looked Will deep into his eyes. “What drives you?”

“Master?”

“Your critique of Damon’s spell is not born from loyalty to the rules. It comes from elsewhere.”

Will took a deep breath, trying to fight the spell, or at least word his reply in a more favorable way. “I want to be the best, like any warlock should.”

“Will your craft become better if Damon’s craft or its evaluation is diminished?”

Will scrambled for an answer, but found none.

“A warlock should want to be the best,” Wenos continued. “But not the best among everyone else, but the best they, themself, can be. The quality of your spells is completely divorced from those of the other warlocks around you. A cook’s food does not become tastier just because the cook has locked everyone out of the kitchen.” He walked back up to his desk. “You do not build yourself up by tearing others down. It’s best you remember that, lest you will forever stay a bottom-tier warlock.”

The entire room was silent. Damon stole a quick glance towards Will, who was staring at his desk as the professor’s words echoed in his mind.

“And now,” Professor Wenos deactivated the verity rune with another flick of his hand. “Let us take a detailed look at Damon’s spell.”

“Geez, what an asshole,” Clayton said as he was finally pulled out of Damon’s bag once they were home.

“The professor?!” Damon asked as he was walking to his room.

Clayton rolled his eyes. “No, Will.”

“Eh, he’s harmless.”

“He was trying to ruin your grade!”

“And he failed at that.”

Clayton thought back to the conversation with Will right before Damon handed in his project. “He’s such an asshole, how can you be so calm when talking to him?”

“Well,” Damon put Clayton down on his summoning mat. “I know that ignoring his bait gets to him more than any insult could.”

This made Clayton smile. “Hah, so you are fighting back.”

Damon winked.

“All right, I’m ready to be turned back into a human.”

“One second.” Damon pulled out some notes and hesitated for a moment. “Oh, and… thanks.” He smiled for a moment, before turning to reading. Unlike the making of a spell, its unmaking did not require special setup. Damon had described it as simply pulling on some threads to unravel the whole construct. A simple and short incantation did suffice in most cases.

Clayton saw Damon reading in his notes, though he occasionally checked on Clayton as well, as if he was looking for something.

“Is there a problem?” Clayton asked. Normally unmaking a spell was much quicker.

“No…” Damon continued reading his notes before turning his attention to Clayton. “Actually, what do you think of earning me some extra credit?”

“Wait, is that a thing?”

“Yes.”

“Why bring it up now?”

Damon rubbed his neck. “I just remembered, okay?”

“...What would that involve?”

Damon didn’t say anything for a moment before he answered. “I would hand you in for evaluation again.”

Clayton wanted to decline, but honestly, the thought of sucking another immortal dick… “Fine. Another lust professor?”

“Greed, actually.”

“Isn’t greed like transmutation?”

“Manipulation of inanimate materials in general, yes.”

“Why?” Clayton was confused. “Didn’t you say you only merged our essences, not physical materials?”

“It’s too complicated to explain.” Damon got up and left Clayton on the floor. “I need to make a call.”

To be continued.

Clayton was being pulled out of the bag, this time at another warlock’s home.

Damon had handed him over to professor Borvos without much of a word. Damon had called him ahead of time, so Borvos already knew.

The professor placed Clayton on the desk in his study before sitting down. Clayton looked around. The place looked slightly more arcane than Wenos’ living room, though it was still recognizable as a place where people lived or worked. The room’s walls were lined with bookshelves, though some spots had other items in them: Metallic rings floating atop a small pedestal, a sphere of glass or crystal that had something suspended inside, a golden frog that Clayton could have sworn blinked at least once.

In the corner Clayton saw a mat on the floor with paw prints printed on it. Chewing toys for dogs were scattered around it.

“Do you have a dog?” Clayton asked while Borvos was getting ready.

“My husband does.”

“Aw,” Clayton smirked. “You have a husband and he’s not joining us?”

“He’s in the underworld.”

“Oh.” Clayton’s smirk faded. He hoped that wasn’t something bad. “Why?”

Borvos briefly glanced at Clayton, raising an eyebrow. “He lives there. He’s a demon.”

“Ah…” Clayton’s eyes fell back to the chew toys. Now he realized the black stripes weren’t painted on. And the black spots on the mat weren’t dirt. They were scorch marks. Was the dog from hell too?

Before he could ponder about a demon’s dog some more, Borvos picked Clayton up and started pressing his fingers into various points of Clayton’s head.

It didn’t hurt, but it was mildly uncomfortable and he wanted to get to the evaluation part proper.

“What are you doing?” Clayton’s vision kept shifting as the professor kept turning him around.

“Checking for leaks.”

“Leaks?”

“I see your hearing remains unaffected.” Borvos didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

“Like, of the spell?”

“Yes.”

The professor’s thumb brushed over Clayton’s neck stump, which for some reason felt really good for him.

“This is not all there is to the evaluation, is there?” Clayton would be disappointed if he was not used today.

“Evaluation?”

“I see your hearing is working too.”

It took Borvos a moment to reply. “You’re lucky you’re not one of my students.”

“Or what? You’d turn me into a frog?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the professor shot back. “I’m a greed professor. Plus, frogs can’t study.”

Clayton rolled his eyes. “It was a joke. I didn’t actually—”

“I’d turn you into a caryatid.”

“Uh,” Clayton swallowed. The warlock’s tone didn’t make clear whether he was joking or not. “What’s that?”

The professor shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Also, back—” Clayton had to stifle a moan as Borvos’ thumb brushed over Clayton’s neck stump again, which felt even better this time. “Back to the topic. Is this the entire evaluation or is there more to it?”

Suddenly Borvos stopped and held Clayton, looking him in the eyes. “What did Damon tell you?”

Clayton was confused. “That you’d evaluate me for extra credit.”

“I see.” The professor continued his investigations. “No, I’m afraid not. Damon tried to turn you back yesterday but the spell did not react. Something is blocking the dismissal.”

“And you’re trying to remove the block?”

“Theoretically, I could, yes.”

“Then do that?”

“How much do you value your life?” Borvos asked in a nonchalant tone.

“Uh, very?!”

“The block is a safety feature,” the professor explained. “If the spell was undone but your form could not be restored correctly, then… I’ll let your vivid imagination paint a picture.”

Clayton would have gotten sick to his stomach at the thought, if he still had a stomach.

“I’d advise against removing the block,” the professor added.

“So, how do we—” Clayton was interrupted by Borvos pressing on his neck stump again, this time sending waves of pleasure through his head.

“I think I found the issue.”

“What is it?”

Clayton was lifted up slightly and tilted forward so his face was half facing the wall in front of the professor. Then he felt the professor’s hot breath on his neck stump.

“Wait, what are you—”

Again, Clayton was interrupted, but this time, instead of a thumb, he felt something warm and wet on his neck stump.

A tongue.

The professor started kissing and licking Clayton’s neck stump and with every touch the sensation became more pleasurable.

After a few times, the professor’s mouth moved away again. “There we go.”

“What, what happened?” Clayton could still feel a residue of pleasure on his neck stump, though he did not feel anything touching it. Still, there was something. It felt different than before.

“I found what’s preventing your reformation.”

“What is it?!”

Borvos did not reply. Instead Clayton felt something on his neck stump again. It wasn’t a tongue. Instead the professor ran his thumb over the area again, though this time the finger didn’t brush over smooth skin. It was as if the skin was wrinkled instead.

And brushing it felt good. Clayton closed his eyes at the pleasure as the professor’s finger teased that oddly sensitive spot.

“What—” Clayton panted. He couldn’t form a whole sentence as the professor pressed his thumb onto the area. More pleasure washed over Clayton.

Then he felt the impossible. The professor’s thumb was being pushed into Clayton. He could feel himself around the finger.

The feeling was not unfamiliar, though it took Clayton several seconds to recognize it.

“I’ve got an asshole?!” Clayton yelled out in surprise.

Borvos removed his finger again and used his mouth once more. He started rimming Clayton with his tongue, before putting his lips down on the transformed man’s pucker and inserted his tongue into the hole.

Clayton wanted to barrage the warlock with questions. What had happened to him? How was this possible? Could it be undone?

But all that came out was a needy whine, begging the professor to drive his tongue deeper.

As the professor moved his tongue in and out of Clayton’s hole, he pressed his lips against the pucker. As he moved his tongue deeper, the suction from the lips gave Clayton even more pleasure.

Borvos went deeper and deeper, until Clayton felt the familiar climax approaching. The professor continued and Clayton started seeing stars. If he still had a cock, he would have shot at this point.

And yet, the feeling did not subside. The orgasm held, Clayton’s mind momentarily suspended in bliss.

Then, Borvos pulled out and set Clayton down on the table, though not on his stump. He held him with his hands on both sides to keep him stable.

“Works, too.” The professor smirked at Clayton.

Clayton was still panting when he opened his eyes. “It didn’t stop.”

“You’re a sex toy,” the professor explained. “Sex toys don’t get tired.”

It took some seconds for Clayton’s mind to fully clear up again. “Why do I have an asshole now?”

“The spell leaked.”

“That—But—What? That doesn’t explain anything. Damon only merged the essence of a fleshjack into me, not the actual physical item.”

“Look, I’m not here to explain magic to you.” The professor stood up, still holding Clayton in his hands. “Unfortunately for you, your predicament appears to be permanent.”

“What the hell, Damon!” Clayton already began to yell before he had been fully pulled out of the bag.

After he had been stuffed in the bag again, Clayton hadn’t been let out until Damon got back home, not even while Borvos told Damon about his findings.

Damon put Clayton on the counter in the kitchen.

“What did you do?!” Clayton continued.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Damon began. “I did test the spell so thoroughly, but something must have gone wrong.”

“You said you only merged essences. How did I grow an asshole?!”

“The spell has a lot of moving parts,” Damon explained. “A leak happens when the borders between two parts, well, leak and that part of the spell affects something it shouldn’t. I had to transform you in order to get rid of your body, but some part of the fleshjack essence must have leaked into that part, which formed an asshole to better serve your function as a sex toy.”

“Did you know something like this could happen?”

“I mean, kinda? There’s always a chance a spell can go wrong.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

Damon rubbed his brow. “I tried, but you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Because I thought it was a simple spell like the others.”

“Look… Clayton. I’m sorry, okay? I really didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You used me like a lab rat!”

Damon was taken aback at the accusation. “That’s not true!”

“You didn’t care what happened to me.”

“Of course I did. I tried to fix this as soon as I noticed something was wrong.”

“Without telling me.”

“I didn’t want you to be worried.”

When there was no immediate reply from Clayton, Damon sat down and buried his face in his hands.

Clayton finally broke the silence. “You don’t even care about humans do you?”

Damon lowered his hands. “What?!”

“We’re just experiments you can bring to school to get a grade.”

Damon’s face was frozen in shock and confusion.

“That’s what warlocks think, isn’t it?” Clayton continued. “That you’re something better.”

“What the hell…”

“You can do anything you want with your magic. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be a warlock at all,” Damon shot back. “You think it’s easy?”

“I mean, obviously. Just snap your fingers and all your problems are solved.”

“That’s not true. If I could, I’d swap with you in a heartbeat.”

“Pff, sure.” Clayton rolled his eyes. “Such an easy thing to say when there’s no way to do it.”

“Just,” Damon paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “What do you want me to do?!”

“To fix me, for fuck’s sake!”

“I tried!” Damon yelled.

Clayton was surprised for a moment at the quiver in Damon’s voice. Suddenly he felt like he had been too harsh.

Before Clayton could say anything else, Damon turned and rushed to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Several hours passed in which Clayton was simply sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Damon came out of his room only once, to go to the toilet. Even then, he avoided eye contact and closed the door behind him again.

Eventually, Damon went for the kitchen, specifically the fridge. He hadn’t eaten anything since he came home. His hunger must have grown greater than his urge to avoid his flatmate.

Again he avoided eye contact the entire time he was cooking.

Clayton felt bad, but he had plenty of time to think about his new predicament. There was something important he had to ask his flatmate. In the last days he increasingly often had thoughts about being used, about being just an object. It always felt natural in the moment, but in hindsight, it was weirding him out.

“Damon?”

No response.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“What is it?” Damon didn’t even look up.

“You said you merged my essence with that of a fleshjack.”

“Yes.”

“Does that mean I also become one, like, mentally?”

Damon paused. “Yes.”

“By how much?”

“Fifty-fifty.” Damon resumed his cooking. “But that was supposed to be short term. The essence merge was never intended to be stable. It could be that…” He trailed off.

“Yes?”

“I could give you to an envy professor to check it out.” When there was no immediate reply, Damon added. “Would that be okay for you?”

“Yes.”

“I can drop you off tomorrow.”

“Thanks…”

Without a further word, Damon finished cooking his food and returned to his room, not having looked at Clayton for a single moment.

When Clayton was pulled out of the bag, he found himself in the home of professor Gelwos, the envy professor Damon mentioned.

While Gelwos was still walking around, presumably gathering whatever he needed, Clayton was taking in the room. It was the most mundane looking one yet from the three he’d seen. Clayton couldn’t find any obviously supernatural objects from his vantage point on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

What was weird however was how the room was arranged. It wasn’t furnished like a place where someone lives. It looked more like a room of a therapist. The coffee table was surrounded by seatings and in the corner was a desk with chairs on both sides.

“Do you do therapy here?” Clayton wanted to know.

Gelwos sat down in front of Clayton. “In a way.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m a mindshaper. I can get rid of unpleasant thoughts or memories, like traumatic experiences, even change pieces of people’s personalities that are holding them back.”

“Changing people’s personalities?” Clayton frowned. “Sounds creepy.”

“Because you are not used to it.”

“No, because you’re changing who a person is.”

“That’s a largely human notion, born from the inability to shape the mind at will,” Gelwos explained. “It is not much different from bodily modifications such as tattoos or piercings. Warlocks understand the conscious self as a matter of continuity. Take yourself, for example.”

“Mmh?”

“Your mind has been altered due to the merging of your essence with an inanimate object. Would you say that you are not yourself anymore?”

“I mean I am a different person now,” Clayton argued.

“Be mindful of your wording. Are you a different person the way you and I are different people, or are you still the same person, but different? Do you think of yourself as a separate entity or are you still you?”

“I guess…” Clayton thought for a moment. “I’m still me, just that I have changed.”

“Exactly. Humans always consider a change of the mind to be a form of erasure of the former self, but the truth is that our personalities change every second of our lives. You do not have the same hopes and dreams as your former self that was pulled from your mother’s womb. Yet you are the same person.”

“But that’s different,” Clayton argued. “It’s a natural process.”

“What does it matter? By definition every conscious action of an intelligent being is unnatural. Casting spells is unnatural. Wearing clothes is unnatural. Cooking food is unnatural.”

“Fine, whatever,” Clayton ceded. “You’re not going to mess with my brain, though, right?”

“Not unless you want me to. Damon only requested me to check on your psyche, see how the merging of essences affected your mind.”

“Well, at least he told us the same thing this time.”

Gelwos raised an eyebrow. “Mmh?”

“Nevermind. I’m ready to begin.”

The professor reached for a small device on the table and turned a small disk at its top. Suddenly the room was filled with a hum, similar to the time when Wenos activated the verity spell.

Clayton looked at the barely noticeable wisps floating around the room. “A truth spell?”

“No, but it’s also envy magic. Allows me to look into your mind.”

“Does all envy magic look and sound like this?”

Gelwos took a look behind Clayton. “All but the simplest of spells, yes.”

“Why?”

“Minds are incomprehensibly complex and fragile, rendering envy magic extremely difficult. Envy spells require a framework that is equally complex to handle the subject matter. Therefore we use souls as a means to process the spells.”

Clayton’s eyes widened. “You use dead people to fuel your magic?!”

“Souls aren’t dead people. They are imprints a person leaves behind on the fabric of reality when they die. They have no agency or consciousness. They simply act out certain memories or thoughts over and over again for all eternity. They are comparable to a recording of a person.”

“And the hum?”

“Their voice.” Gelwos looked at Clayton and slowly pinched his index finger and thumb until they touched. Gradually the hum became weaker until it disappeared entirely. “That better?”

“You can turn it off?”

“I didn’t turn it off. I merely changed your perception so your mind automatically filters out the sound.”

“I said no changing my mind!”

“It’s not permanent,” Gelwos pointed out. “It will only last for the duration of the spell. Do you want me to revert it?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Let’s just continue.”

“Very well.” Gelwos gestured towards something behind Clayton.

Moments later, Clayton was picked up by someone who wasn’t Gelwos. “Who is that?” Clayton whelped. Then he got turned to the couch next to him where he saw a naked man presenting his ass towards him. Clayton furrowed his brow. “And who is that?”

“Golems,” Came the professor’s voice. “I cannot use you myself as I must observe.”

Now Clayton noticed that the golem in front of him didn’t have a head.

“Your task is to rim his ass,” Gelwos explained. “Begin.”

Clayton was moved into the golem’s asscrack, though he wasn’t pushed into it. It was merely enough for his lips to gently brush the pucker.

He felt a little bit guilty for feeling this way due to the circumstances, but part of him was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to suck off the professor. Even worse, he wasn’t even going to suck off the golem’s dick.

He tried to shake the thought away. It’s not that Clayton hated blowing guys, but he never considered it the highlight of his day either, usually more a form of foreplay. Sucking cock and eating ass was something he normally enjoyed in equal parts.

But he was a fleshjack now and fleshjacks aren’t intended to rim assholes.

Still, Clayton felt compelled to do as he was told seeing as this was all meant to help him.

He pressed his lips against the pucker and started teasing the hole with his tongue. He thought back to Borvos bringing him over the edge with his mouth. He drove his tongue deeper into the golem’s asshole. To his surprise the golem smelled and tasted just like a normal man. For some reason he expected something different.

If the golem felt any pleasure, it didn’t show it. It remained motionless and made no sound. Clayton closed his eyes and continued kissing the hole as he was mentally reliving Borvos caressing his.

“Enjoying yourself?” Gelwos asked.

“Well enough,” Clayton spoke into the asscrack. He hoped golems weren’t ticklish.

“Why did you agree to this transformation anyway?”

“I wanted to help Damon.”

“Are you two close?”

Clayton thought for a moment. “We’re friends.” He hoped it was still true.

“You had a fight recently.”

“Are you reading my memories?”

“I am browsing your mind to find where your essence intertwines with that of the fleshjack,” Gelwos explained. “I do not seek them out, but memories show up.”

“Then why ask me these questions if you already know?”

“Navigating a mind is tricky. Talking about your thoughts helps me orient myself.”

“We had a spat yesterday.” Clayton finally answered the warlock’s question and returned to rimming the golem.

“What was it about?”

Clayton sighed. Part of him was still mad and wanted to say that Damon messed up, but he figured being honest with Gelwos was more important. The truth was that Clayton felt guilty. He had seen that his words had hurt Damon and that was the last thing Clayton wanted. “I was frustrated with what happened to me and overreacted.”

“I see,” Was the professor’s only reaction.

The two did not exchange further words. Instead Clayton continued his work in the golem’s asscrack.

The more he went at it the more he got into it. At first he had been disappointed. This was not how one uses a fleshjack, but he told himself that it was not his place to say how and where he was being used.

He escaped into the fantasy of Borvos playing with his pucker, the professor’s tongue darting in and out of his hole, his own tongue mimicking the memory. Clayton began to moan, enjoying the movie that was playing in his head.

But then his mind shifted to someone else. He imagined Damon picking him up and giving him a kiss before impaling him on his cock.

Clayton forgot everything around him as his tending to the golem’s ass became more and more energetic and noisy. He didn’t know it was possible to get so turned on from rimming a guy.

In his mind, Damon pulled him up and down on his cock, over and over again. Between the fantasy and the memories from Borvos playing with him, as well as the stimulation of his tongue working the golem’s ass, Clayton was eventually brought over the edge. Pleasure washed over him in continuous waves.

The feeling subsided only moments later when he felt himself pulled away from the golem’s asscrack.

Gelwos reached for the device on the table and turned off the spell. “I think I’ve seen enough.”

“Master?” Damon peeked into Gelwos’ classroom. It was empty apart from the professor himself and Clayton who was set on the professor’s desk.

“Come in.” Gelwos waved Damon towards him.

Damon approached. He only made brief eye contact with Clayton. “And?”

“I have good news and bad news,” the professor began. “The good news is that the essence mixture is stable. Clayton feels equal parts as a human and as an object without tipping towards one or the other. He identifies as a fleshjack now, but still enjoys activities that are more enjoyable for his human part.”

“And the bad news?”

“Well…” The professor looked down at Clayton. “It is entirely irreversible.”

“We already knew that,” Clayton commented.

“You knew about the leak,” Gelwos corrected. “A leak can be corrected, in theory. It is immensely difficult for a spell as complex as yours, but doable with enough time and patience. The real problem isn’t the leak.” He looked at Damon. “Your attempts at keeping an animate and an inanimate essence merged worked a little too well. You didn’t just merge them. You… You made them into one. I have never seen two essences fuse so thoroughly. It is quite impressive.”

Damon did not react to the professor’s compliment.

“For what it’s worth, I do not think your grade is going to suffer from it,” Gelwos continued. “Considering how there is no recorded instance of overcoming essence immiscibility, it is not something you could have foreseen or planned around.”

Damon looked away.

“But it’s not your grade that concerns you, is it?” The professor asked.

“No.” Damon finally said and picked his flatmate up. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Damon quickly made his way towards the door, when he heard his professor’s voice once more.

“Oh, and Damon?”

Damon turned around without saying a word.

“The feeling is mutual.”

Damon froze and Clayton could see his eyes widen. Then his flatmate left the room.

Back home, Damon pulled Clayton out of the bag and put him on his bed in Clayton’s room. The two hadn’t said a word since Damon had picked up his flatmate from professor Gelwos.

After setting Clayton on the bed, Damon went for the door, but before he could leave the room, Clayton spoke up. “Damon?”

Damon froze, without turning around. “Yes?”

“I wanted to apologize. Some of the things I said weren’t fair to you.”

Damon hung his head and took a deep breath. “I don’t think you are the one who has to apologize.”

“I mean, I kinda do. I overreacted and I’m sorry for that.”

Finally Damon turned around and went back to the bed, sitting down next to Clayton. “Fine, but I’m only going to accept your apology if you accept mine. I really didn’t mean for all of this to happen and if there’s a way to fix you, I’ll do it.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

“No really, I do identify as a fleshjack now.” Clayton thought back to his times with the professors. “I have these thoughts about being used and being owned and… That’s me now. I don’t need to be fixed anymore.”

Damon made a pained expression.

Clayton decided to change topics. “Any news from school?”

“Not yet. I might get my grade tomorrow. And then I’ll know if I will get my true name.”

“Tomorrow?” Clayton asked. “That’s quick.”

“That’s the advantage of every student being on their own schedule. It prevents dumping dozens of projects onto the professors at once.” He sighed. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they made my project a priority, given it’s a historic precedent and everything.”

“Wow.”

Damon just shrugged.

“Do you already have an idea for a true name?” Clayton asked.

“I check the archives each month, actually. Surprisingly, the name ‘Damos’ hasn’t been picked yet.”

“Seriously?”

Damon was surprised. “What?”

“You can pick whatever name you want and you go with your given name and just change a single letter?”

Damon shrugged. “It’s not uncommon for warlocks to pick a name that’s close to their original name. At this point pretty much all names that mean anything have been depleted, so people have resorted to making up new names by changing letters of existing words around. Using your own name as a basis makes sense.”

Clayton considered it for a moment. “Mmh, I’ll allow it.”

“Thanks.” Damon smiled.

There was silence for several seconds, before Damon continued. “Also, I’m tutoring Will now.”

“What?!” Clayton blurted out. “Why?”

“He asked,” Damon pointed out. “And apologized.”

“Pff, and you buy that?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Damon tilted his head. “He’s seeing a mindshaper.”

“Oh…”

“You know what a mindshaper does?”

“Gelwos told me, yeah,” Clayton replied.

“Right. The words of professor Wenos must have really gotten to Will.”

“Eh, I think he’s still an asshole.”

“I dunno,” Damon mused. “He seems like a tortured soul.”

Clayton rolled his eyes. “Oh please.”

“No really, he’s seeking approval from others before seeking contentment for himself. It’s an addiction in a way. No matter how good a warlock he’ll be, it’ll never be enough. Treating that seems like a sensible thing to me.”

“I guess,” Clayton ceded. He wanted to move onto a more serious topic. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Aren’t you doing that the whole time?”

“I mean about the fight.”

“Oh.” Damon paused. “Sure, go ahead.”

“You said that you’d swap with me, if you could. Why?”

“Being a warlock can be really inconvenient at times. I can’t even tell most people that I’m a warlock or they will demand constant favors from me.” He gestured around the room. “And you have money. You can literally buy whatever you want. I have to conjure the things I need.”

“Wow, I am allowed to pay rent and taxes,” Clayton mocked. “Feeling hashtag blessed over here.”

Damon laughed. “It may not sound like such a privilege, but you try conjuring a smartphone. Shit’s complicated. And while it’s technically allowed, conjuring cinema tickets and stuff never sits right with me.” His expression darkened. “And then they make those faces when they notice.”

“Still doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

Damon rolled his eyes and smiled.

“You don’t want to be a warlock and I do,” Clayton mused. “Why was I not born as the warlock between us?”

“Because none of your ancestors did the horizontal dance with a demon.”

“Heh.”

Damon’s face went serious again. “If you were a warlock, what kind of magic would you like to study?”

“I dunno.” Clayton thought for a moment. “I think sloth describes me pretty well.” He smirked.

“Oh sloth is a good one. It’s about healing and recovering, both for the body and the mind.”

“What does laziness have to do with healing?”

“It’s less laziness, but more inaction,” Damon explained. “And it makes sense if you think about it. Sloth is about enhancing natural healing processes. It’s something that takes time and rest.” He paused for a moment. “It’s a very good school of magic, but one of the more difficult ones.”

“What makes it difficult?”

“It affects both the body and the mind. Manipulating the physical is easy, but anything that touches consciousness is difficult.”

“So, lust is easier, because it only affects the body?”

“Exactly,” Damon confirmed. “In fact, lust is the easiest type of magic, followed by gluttony and greed. All three only have a physical component. Then comes sloth and wrath. Both of them affect the body and the mind to varying degrees. And last but not least is envy, which deals exclusively with the mind and is the hardest to master.”

“That’s six. What about pride?”

“Pride?” Damon looked to the side. “Pride is in an entirely different league than the other six. It deals with neither the physical nor the psychological. It manipulates the laws of the universe directly, the very foundation of reality. It’s insanely hard to learn, virtually impossible to master and unimaginably dangerous.”

“Why?”

Damon looked down at Clayton. “Spells always have a chance to… go wrong, as you’ve experienced yourself. The other six types of magic can set up safety mechanisms such as blocks for lust. But for pride to work you must change reality itself, which means you cannot set up any sort of security measures. A mistake is instant, cannot be corrected and is in many cases fatal. Many pride campuses or their inhabitants have simply just vanished overnight, or worse, and those are only the ones that have not been purged from history. Some campuses may have disappeared together with any memory of them, so the real number is higher though we will never know by how much.”

“Christ, that’s dark.”

“But even if a pride spell works as intended, that doesn’t mean it won’t have any unforeseen consequences. When you manipulate reality itself, it can cause cascading effects. Lucifer, the current arch-warlock of pride, is not human and did not originate from our current reality.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Yup,” Damon continued. “He comes from a previous reality where photosynthesis didn’t exist. Without agriculture, the growing civilization faced a global famine once it reached the tipping point of sustainability. Lucifer found a way to convert sunlight into food and decided to change the biosphere to make use of that. He had to change the entire planet’s natural history to do so. He was successful, of course, but it came with a cost. Changing the history of the planet meant that everything he knew was wiped and replaced with something else, including his species. The world was no longer populated by his kind, but by humans. Everyone and everything he knew and loved vanished in an instant.”

“How did he remain as he was?”

“He used himself as the anchor for the spell. A rather smart way to keep a pride spell stable.”

“Huh…” was Clayton’s only comment.

“Pride is not something I would ever want to study.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

There was silence for several seconds, before Clayton spoke up again. “By the way, what did Gelwos mean when he said the feeling was mutual?”

“Oh that,” Damon blushed. “Well, I guess since I know how you’ll react, I can tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Damon swallowed and looked down at his feet. “I have a crush on you.”

Clayton was speechless. He never knew Damon felt that way. “And you never told me?”

Damon had to laugh. “You never told me either.”

“All right, that’s fair,” Clayton had to admit. “Wanna celebrate sharing our feelings?”

“How?”

“Well, you have a dick and I have a hole. It’s simple, really.”

“Oh my god, Clayton.” Damon had to laugh. “How can you be horny right now?”

“Well, I’m constantly horny now, because someone turned me into a fleshjack, remember?”

Damon’s laugh faded.

Clayton felt bad. “Er, too soon?”

Damon had to squint. “A little bit.” He nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

Damon picked up Clayton to look him in the eyes. “Stop apologizing.”

“But I don’t want you to feel bad.”

Damon smiled. “The feeling is mutual.” He winked.

Clayton only smiled back. Damon moved Clayton closer to his face, bringing their lips together.

Their kiss lasted several moments.

“All right then.” Damon moved further onto Clayton’s bed and lay down. “You ready for it?”

Clayton thought back to the fantasy in Gelwos’ room. “Hell, yeah.”

Damon placed Clayton on his chest while he was undoing his zipper. “Wanna help me get ready?”

Clayton wasn’t sure what Damon meant, but he was up for anything. “Sure.”

Damon picked his flatmate up and held him above his semi-hard cock sticking out from his jeans. “How about you go a-head.”

“Hey, no puns!”

Damon had to laugh as he lowered Clayton on his cock, letting him take it all in. “Oh yeah,” he moaned. “I like where this is heading.”

Clayton’s voice came heavily muffled around Damon’s hardening cock. “I said no puns!”

Damon threw his head back on the bed as he let Clayton work his dick.

After a minute, when his cock was hard and ready, Clayton was pulled off.

“You’re a natural,” Damon commented.

“A natural fleshjack, yeah,” Clayton replied. “Wasn’t that good at sucking guys off before the merge.”

“Mmh, ready for party two?”

“Bring it.”

With that, Damon lowered Clayton down on his cock with the neck stump first. He teased Clayton’s hole with his glans, causing his flatmate to let out a whimper.

“Are you more sensitive now?” Damon asked.

“I’m pretty sure I am, yes.”

“Well, I hope this isn’t going to be too much,” Damon said before slowly pushing Clayton down onto his cock.

Clayton closed his eyes and let out one long moan all the way down. It was like he was being filled out entirely, like someone was pushing an entire tree trunk into him, as if he was just a sleeve that was becoming stretched paper thin on Damon’s cock. It didn’t hurt, however. In fact, it was the best feeling he’s ever had.

Eventually he stopped and he felt Damon’s warm skin on his neck stump. Clayton had to catch his breath for a moment. “Fuck, you’re huge.”

“Not really,” Damon said. “But I guess it feels like that when you’re just a head.”

Clayton opened his eyes. “Do it again.”

He was being pushed up and then down again. It felt just as good a second time, in fact, Damon was slightly harder and Clayton’s insides had been massaged by the first penetration so that the second time felt even smoother.

“Again,” Clayton moaned.

And again he was pushed up and down.

He looked at Damon, who was smiling back.

Clayton didn’t have to ask for a fourth time, or for any of the times after that. Damon kept pushing Clayton up and down until he moved to bucking his hips, pumping into Clayton over and over again.

After several minutes, Damon spoke up. “I’m close.”

“Go for it.”

A couple more thrusts and Clayton thought he might go unconscious. The pleasure was the greatest he had ever felt. A warmth washed across his entire body, but there was a second warmth, one that was more physical and centered on the inside rather than washing over his skin.

As he was climaxing, he realized that so was Damon and that Damon had shot his load into Clayton’s head. He wasn’t really sure how that worked anatomically, but he didn’t really care at the moment.

Then he felt himself being pulled off Damon’s dick, releasing him from the continuous orgasm. He still felt Damon’s hot cum inside of his head.

Damon held Clayton in place for a moment. “How was it?”

“Fucking amazing…”

“Glad to hear it,” Damon said as he placed Clayton’s head next to his and stabilized it with his arm.

It didn’t take long for them to fall asleep.

Clayton woke up to movement. He realized that Damon was fiddling with something. Then he saw Damon’s phone lying on his chest, displaying a hologram with warlock writing above it. It was a special thing Damon’s phone could do. Clayton had once asked him if he could change his phone to have that too, but Damon said that wasn’t allowed. Damn warlock rules.

“What’s it say?” Clayton asked.

“Oh hey, didn’t mean to wake you up.” He turned the hologram off. “Just got my evaluation letter.”

“Oh?!”

“Perfect grade.” There was no joy in Damon’s voice.

“You’re not happy?”

Damon took a deep breath. “They invited me to a pride campus.”

Clayton thought back to how Damon talked about pride earlier. “I see.” He thought for a moment. “But you don’t have to accept.”

“That’s the point. I kind of do.”

“Why?”

“Remember when Wenos chewed out Will?” Damon asked.

“Yeah.”

“Remember his precise wording. ‘A warlock should want to be the best they can be.’” He looked at Clayton. “‘Should.’ It’s not encouragement. It’s an expectation. If I don’t accept, I will become, well, a pariah is too strong a word, maybe, but something like that.”

“I see.”

“Warlocks are supposed to be the best they can be so that the warlock community as a whole benefits from it.” Damon looked back up at the ceiling again. “Turning your back on that is like turning your back on the community as a whole.”

“Sounds oddly collectivist.”

“Not really.” Damon thought for a moment. “Maybe a little bit? It’s an odd blend. Warlocks are allowed to be whatever they want to be. There is no pressure to become what you aren’t naturally suited for, but at the same time, if you can be something and you choose not to, that’s kind of like seen as abandoning your duties as a warlock. It’s both collectivist and individualist at the same time, I suppose.”

“If warlocks are so concerned about helping the community, why aren’t they helping humans?”

“That’s a very complex topic,” Damon began. “It’s technically humans who keep us out.”

“What?!”

“Those in power, yeah. Wealth is power and if money were to disappear, then those who are currently in charge would lose everything. That’s why warlocks are barred from purchasing anything and if we have to conjure something, we can only do it for personal use and aren’t allowed to gift or sell it.”

“Are you telling me the only reason we’re not living in a utopia is because of greedy fucks in power?”

“Not sure if that’d lead to a utopia, to be honest,” Damon shrugged.

“Huh? Why not?”

“Amongst each other, warlocks are equals.” Damon looked at Clayton. “What’s a warlock amongst humans?”

Clayton had no answer.

“A god,” Damon finally revealed. “In fact, in the ancient past, exactly that happened: There were no rules about what a warlock could and couldn’t do, so many warlocks began to crave power and ruled their own kingdoms, often as tyrants. Eventually, the humans rebelled. The warlocks had power, but the humans had numbers. It was a global battle of epic proportions, remembered in various mythologies as the Chaoskampf, if you’ve heard about it.”

Clayton didn’t say anything, encouraging Damon to continue.

“One of the most powerful, Lotan, nowadays better known as Leviathan, was a pride user,” Damon explained “He grew so powerful and tyrannical that even other warlocks banded together against him. But Lotan had turned himself into a massive serpent wielding the most powerful pride spells anyone had ever seen, and would ever see to this day. Nobody could defeat him.”

“But he was defeated in the end?”

“Nope.”

“Then why did he stop?”

Damon sighed. “The trail of evidence, however faint it was, just abruptly ends. Nobody knows what happened, but most warlock historians agree that he bit off a larger pride spell than he could chew and he either died from it or just vanished.”

“Huh.” Clayton didn’t know what else he could say.

“Do you now understand the dangers of pride magic? Even its most powerful users are not protected from it when it backfires.”

“Yeah.”

“And yet,” Damon continued. “I have the social obligation of pursuing it.”

Clayton thought for a long moment. “I don’t know if it makes you feel better, but… You’ve done something that most warlocks thought impossible for centuries. If anyone can master pride, I’m sure you can.”

“Eh.”

“Hey, don’t you ‘eh’ your own accomplishments. You did something historic, and that’s huge and I will not let anyone belittle my best friend’s achievements, and that includes you.”

Damon picked up his flatmate and held him above his face. “You’re the cutest caredom I’ve ever seen.”

Clayton just glared at Damon.

“Okay, okay, you’re right. Thanks for the pep talk.” He put down Clayton on his chest. “I guess I needed that.”

“No problem.”

The two friends didn’t say anything for a while. Clayton was enjoying lying on Damon’s chest, feeling his heartbeat and his warmth on his cheek.

Being this close to Damon, Clayton mused about what could have been. “Did you enjoy earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

Clayton raised an eyebrow. “You know what I mean.”

“The sex?” Damon blushed. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” Clayton thought for a long moment. “Do you think, in another life we could have been boyfriends instead of sex toy and owner?”

“I’m not your owner.”

“You kind of are. My fleshjack half feels that way.”

“And the other half?” Damon wanted to know.

“Mmh?”

“What does the other half think?” Damon clarified. “Does the other half think we could be boyfriends?”

Clayton smiled. “Yes, yes it does.”

After a short silence, Clayton thought of something. “You know, speaking of my halves.”

“Yeah?”

“Since I am no longer fully Clayton, I thought about changing my name to better reflect my new identity.”

“Oh?”

“Do you mind calling me Jack from now on?”

Damon seemed to consider the name, but eventually his face softened. “That’s really what you want to be called?”

“Yes.”

“All right,” he lifted up his flatmate and smiled. “I love you, Jack.”

Jack smiled back. “I love you too, Damos.”

“Anyone catch your fancy?” Jack asked his boyfriend.

He and Damos were currently in a warlock club. Damos ended up accepting the invitation to the pride campus, not that he had much choice. He took Jack with him. As just a disembodied head, he wasn’t suited for life in human society. Plus, the two had become boyfriends, so moving in with Damos made sense.

While Damos’s campus was located in hell, as all pride campuses were, the couple’s apartment wasn’t on the campus itself. Damos insisted that Jack did not live on-site due to the inherent dangers of pride magic. Still, they lived in hell now, though they often went to the mortal plane to have fun, like right now.

“There’s some nice eye-candy, but I’m not looking for a three-some today.” Damos sipped his drink.

“Mind if I take a ride then?”

“Babe, we talked about it. I can’t keep up with your libido. Go wild.”

It was one of the side effects of merging Jack’s essence with that of a sex toy. His fleshjack half needed to be always ready for its owner, but his human half had urges. Merging both resulted in Jack having near inexhaustible libido.

“Anyone who got your attention?” Damos wanted to know.

“You see that hunk over there at the bar?”

“The one in leather pants, not wearing a shirt?”

“Yeah,” Jack confirmed. “Mind sending him a signal?”

“Sure thing.”

Jack couldn’t tell that anything happened, but he knew from past experience that among warlocks it was custom to send someone a simple mind spell, just something to get their attention, nothing more.

The hunk turned towards their general direction, figuring out where the spell came from, when his face landed on the couple. He made his way over, drink in hand and stood before their seating niche.

Jack saw Damos nodding his head towards him, making the hunk understand that it was Jack who was interested.

The man’s eyes lit up. Jack had become a bit of a celebrity in warlock society. Of course, not nearly as much as Damos, but Jack was his familiar, and boyfriend, and so many knew about him. Plus, he was the first person ever to be turned into a disembodied fleshjack-head, a new fad that’s slowly gaining popularity among warlocks and their human sex partners, boyfriends and husbands.

The man unzipped his pants, to let his cock flop out. It was huge, most likely augmented with lust magic. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if the guy’s muscles were also augmented.

“You wanna ride this thing?” The man asked.

“Yeah,” Jack thought about how it must feel to be impaled on a giant cock like that. “Looks like one hell of a good time.”

The man smirked, reaching into his zipper to pull out a second, identical cock. “What about this one?”

“Fuck.” Double cocks weren’t exactly rare, but Jack had never seen a double cock that huge.

The man stepped forward and picked up Jack, holding him against his thigh, tantalizingly close to his two cocks. “I’m Hector by the way.”

Hector began to move and his two cocks kept flopping back and forth in front of Jack’s face.

Jack heard Damos’s voice behind him. “Have fun, honey.”

“Will do,” Jack replied, his eyes fixed on the cocks.

He wouldn’t have thought this half a year ago, but fuck, being a fleshjack really wasn’t so bad.

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