DanicaPart 16C free porn video

Danica heard the chime announcing a visitor immediately upon stepping from her bath. She quickly dried with a towel and pulled on fresh clothing just as Zoraster appeared in her doorway.

It took a great deal of self-control not to show evidence of her surprise when the Archmage paused with a look of irritation at the doorway to her room, pulling an ornate wand of ivory from somewhere within his robes before proceeding.

"I will have the obelisk now," he said to her.

Danica gestured to where the box containing the item rested on a dressing table.

"A lead lined box. I trust you found my prize disturbing?"

"It's sentient, and none too friendly. We didn't feel like waging a war for our souls with it," Danica explained.

"A wise caution," Zoraster admitted as he picked up the box and opened it. "Well, my little trinket, you do seem a bit angry, don't you?"

"What now? Shall we go desecrate a temple and tempt our fate further?" Danica asked with a little of her fire rising up within her.

"Your freedom is granted, and I have no need for your services at this time. Inform Celes the same applies to her," Zoraster said absently, and then vanished with the box.

Danica raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had never seen her tormentor so absorbed with anything before.

Celes walked into her room, "Did I hear Zoraster?"

"He's gone already. Our freedoms are granted and it seems our time is our own."

"As much as it can be," Celes said with a sigh.

"Well, now that we're clean and the heat of the day is cooling, let's get something to eat and I'll show you around the city. The artwork and statues here are breathtaking."

The two friends ate a light meal, Celes forced to avert her eyes from Hathortari often because of the painful feelings the woman sparked within her. Danica could feel the desire and pain coming from Celes in waves, and quickly led her from the house once they had eaten.

Once outside, Danica brought the subject up, "I'm sorry Tari pains you so much. Maybe we should just go, once we take a look around."

Celes shook her head. "No, I'll be fine. It just takes time for me to control myself around someone new. I've been able to sit and talk to Andrea for hours of late. We seem to share some similar interests. I've been able to fight past my attraction to her and concentrate on our friendship like I do with you."

A bright smile spread across Danica's face. "That's wonderful. We should have her over to my rooms as soon as we return. I've never had the chance to cook for her, and odds are I'll need to recharge her ring if she has been seeing her man as often as she had been last time we talked."

"And Marlena — the poor girl needs friends, and we're about all she has. She isn't coping with her new life as well as we are."

"I think we cope too well sometimes," Danica said aloud, and then spoke into Celes' mind, I need to tell you something else, but we should go to the temple to speak of it.

Celes acknowledged the mind contact with a sort of mental nod that made Danica smile wide and laugh. Danica noticed something just in front of Celes then and cried out, "Look out, scorpion!"

Celes was just about to step on the creature when Danica's cry alerted her to it. She yelped in surprise and sidestepped, pushing her hands forward in an instinctive warding gesture toward the creature.

Danica's mouth popped wide open when the scorpion vanished and instantly reappeared several feet away.

We need to go to the temple — now, Celes thought, the contact filled with a mixture of pain and anger.

Danica acknowledged the thought, and the pair immediately proceeded to the temple of Sekmamun.

Zoraster sat on a plain wooden chair, before a plain wooden table, in a small, featureless room. On the table before him sat the box he had retrieved only moments earlier from Danica. His heart beat quickly in anticipation, and his mouth watered.

Opening the box, he stared at the obelisk and shivered as he felt the waves of malevolent desire rolling from it, enticing him to pick it up and promising to suck his very life from him at the same time.

He stared at the object, steeling his will against its intrusions into his mind. Almost instantly, he felt the aura retreat, and he smiled. Continuing to bear down with his will, he ensured he was in complete control of the situation — and of himself.

At last, he reached toward the box. "You will be mine, and through you all shall be within my grasp."

Zoraster grasped the obelisk and stiffened as the violent mental battle began — practiced and powerful Archmage against ancient evil artifact.

Celes sat down heavily in a chair, and Danica sat down opposite her. "How did you do that?" Danica asked.

Celes sighed, and then grit her teeth. "I'm a witch. That is my power, I can move things — teleport them with a wave of my hand. I thought I was rid of it forever."

Danica's expression betrayed her confusion as she said, "I don't understand. I thought witches needed potions and crystals and such to work magic. And why would you want to be rid of your power?"

Celes threw up her hands, and clenched her fists. A second later, a look crossed her face suggesting that she was worried about having made the gesture. "Mother always said I had a special destiny — that our line was destined for some grand task. She was a witch as well, though her powers were mental, like your psionic abilities. She was killed by a demon and I swore I was done with my destiny and being a witch altogether. My grandmother died the same way, and probably every other female member of my family."

"So you just stopped using your power?"

Celes shook her head and told her, "It wasn't that simple, as you can tell now that it has been forced back on me. The power is tied to my emotions, and anything can set it off. Moving my hands always seems to be part of it. Mother always squinted when she used her powers. My lover was a witch as well, and I convinced her to seal my powers using my mother's grimoire. She didn't like it, and tried to talk me out of it, but I insisted. In the end, she relented, with the condition that my powers would return if they were ever the only means to save my life."

"The trap in the tomb?" Danica guessed.

"Yes, I should be dead, and instead I'm stuck with these accursed powers again," Celes answered, punctuating it with a sigh.

"Maybe your mother was right. Maybe it is your destiny and you can't escape it."

"And my fate?" Celes spat out angrily.

"As if we aren't already trapped in a nightmare..." Danica mumbled.

Celes opened her mouth to speak again, but stopped and thought about what Danica had said. "I suppose you're right. There isn't much a demon could do to me that would be worse than what Zoraster has already done. I don't have much choice anyhow, because without my mother's grimoire and another witch to help, I can't seal my powers again, anyway. Are you alright? What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Have you ever heard of the Awakening?" Danica asked her.

"Yes, it's an Eroti... Oh, Danica, it has been done to you hasn't it?"

Danica nodded to indicate Celes was right and said, "I discovered it while I was here. We probably have no idea what has been done to us. What we do know may only be a tiny part of it."

"And yet you cope with the results of a powerful magic put upon you by a god, while I complain about having power I don't want," Celes said and let her chin drop toward her chest.

"Can you control your power?" Danica questioned.

"I could when I was little. Mother was teaching me before she died, because she said if I didn't control it, I could hurt people with it. She said my powers would grow in time too. I guess I'm going to have to learn to deal with it."

"We'll have to hide it from Zoraster, like my mental abilities," Danica reasoned.

"I don't think so. I believe he knows what I am. He calls me witch often enough, and this body he gave me is exactly what most people think of a witch as looking like. No, he knows I'm a witch, knows I hate it, and uses it as another weapon against me," Celes disagreed.

"Then turn that weapon against him," Danica said with a smile. "Embrace your power and let it grow. I suppose I've done the same thing, because I'm used to my desires now, and I actually enjoy them and the results sometimes."

Celes smiled weakly. "I suppose you're right, but don't blame me when demons start falling on our heads coming after me. It seems to be the fate of every woman in my family. If we have a destiny, it seems somebody on the other side doesn't want to see it happen."

"And maybe they're not ready for a witch who is also a powerful wizard, with a friend who can use the power of her mind, as well as magic," Danica said, reaching out to touch her friend's arm.

Celes' smile broadened and she said, "You should learn the Hellgate. Zoraster kept it from us for a reason, and anything he doesn't want us to have can't be a bad thing."

"I'll fetch the scroll," Danica said and turned toward the proper bookshelf.

"And I shall fetch you both something to drink and eat while you work." The pair turned to see Harkhuf standing in the doorway of the library. "Fear not, all your secrets are safe within these walls. I shall reveal nothing of which you speak while within these sacred spaces."

"Thank you, Harkhuf," Danica said and smiled.

He winked and gestured, causing the scroll Danica sought to hover free of its niche in the wall and unroll on the table before her.

Once again, Danica turned to the task of learning the difficult, but useful spell.

Only the passage of time, had they been conscious of it, would have alerted them it was well into night as they studied in the windowless inner library within the temple. Both women were deeply involved in their studies, paying no attention to the world around them save to nibble on a bit of fruit or sip a drink on occasion.

Danica silently pronounced the last word of the Hellgate spell in her mind, and felt an intense burning sensation spread throughout her body. She stiffened, and knew the spell was hers.

Celes noticed her reaction, "Did you get it right?"

Danica wrapped her arms around her for a moment. "Yes. That was a little disconcerting. It almost felt like it was burning — really burning. I usually get a similar sensation when I master a spell, but this was just..."

"The spell has some connection to dark magic. Not enough that I'm all worried about it, but it's there. So long as you control the magic, and don't let it control you, it can be useful," Celes offered as an explanation for the unusual sensation Danica had experienced.

"Have you learned spells like this before?" Danica asked with a shiver.

"I know a couple of necromantic spells — blood magic, and the like. Nothing too ghastly, but there are some times when you just have to use whatever tools are available," Celes answered.

"I don't know if I'm ready to try that," Danica said with a note of trepidation in her voice.

"Well, are you ready to try casting the Hellgate?" Celes asked.

Danica considered for a moment and said, "Now is as good a time as any, I suppose."

Danica stood and began the complicated gestures and accompanying chant, bringing the magical portal of the Hellgate into being.

Celes took Danica's hand in hers, "Just like we did before, we go through together. Remember, those things in there are going to feed on your greatest desires and try to corrupt you through them," Celes cautioned her.

Danica nodded her understanding and they stepped through the portal.

The landscape was a wooded glade at the bottom of a high cliff. A waterfall cascaded into a deep, crystal clear pool of water. Both women caught glimpses of something moving in the underbrush and behind the boles of trees.

Danica turned to Celes to find her smiling, appearing young and vibrant as she had when they had last used the Hellgate spell in this way.

Celes squeezed Danica's hand. "It means a lot to me that one of your deepest desires is for me to be myself again. Now, what is with you?"

Danica looked down at herself and realized there was something different, "I wish I had a mirror."

A magnificent full-length mirror, the likes of which might be found in a Queen's dressing chamber, appeared in front of Danica as she spoke.

Danica looked around warily, "Did they do that?"

Celes shook her head. "Only after a fashion. You control the environment here, and you'll get better at it in time. It's powered by the things, but you control it either consciously or unconsciously. But, you're stalling. Look in the mirror."

Danica then looked in the mirror and raised her eyebrow in surprise. She was taller, her legs far longer than they should be. Her waist was trimmer, her hips narrower, and her breasts were slightly smaller — and a great deal perkier. Her hair was more red than auburn, and her facial features were more classically defined.

In short, she looked a great deal like her sister, Devan.

Celes observed, "Well, we know where you think your flaws are. So what do you think?"

Danica looked at the image staring back in the mirror, and with sudden clarity realized that she really didn't like how she always thought she should look. Almost instantly, the image changed back to her normal appearance.

Celes chuckled and said, "You see, even dark magic can be used to good ends. That had to be an eye opening experience. I prefer you as you are as well."

"I guess you're right. It looks like I just learned the same lesson you did when Zoraster cursed you," Danica reasoned.

Celes grinned and patted Danica's arm. "Exactly — be happy with what you have."

Celes' beauty entrapped Danica as the other woman smiled at her. "Are you sure that it would be a bad thing for us to..." she said, reaching toward Celes.

Celes slapped her playfully on the wrist. "Yes, and quit tempting me. You'd better reign in the natives."

Looking around, Danica agreed it was time to reign in the disguised demons that populated her little alternate reality. Stunningly beautiful women and handsome, muscled men approached from their places in hiding. All were nude, and all were endowed in the most interesting places to eye-popping degrees.

Staring them down, Danica said, "Put some clothes on and get back in the bushes until I tell you to come out."

The creatures hesitated at first, the males posing to show off their muscles and the females sauntering closer while licking their lips. Danica furled her brow, concentrated, and the creatures immediately cringed. All dropped to their knees, instantly clothed, and scurried off into the underbrush.

"That will learn them," Celes said and laughed at the scrambling demons.

"That wasn't so difficult."

"You have an advantage. You already have mental powers, and this is much the same. The process felt like when I've used charming spells."

Danica banished the mirror she had manifested with a thought and smiled at the ease with which she controlled this strange little conjured world. "You said time doesn't move the same here as it does outside?"

"You pretty much have control over that as well, but like I said, the longer you stay here the more dangerous it becomes. Those things will corrupt you. What do you have in mind?"

Danica shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure yet. I just look for anything that might give us an advantage over Zoraster."

Celes took in a deep breath of the floral scented air. "It's a damn shame this place is made of pure evil, because it's beautiful. I should probably get back and start trying to deal with my power. I'll probably be cloistered away for a while, because I need to be able to master my emotions if I want to have any hope of succeeding."

"If you need anything, just come see me. I'll miss you, and don't forget we have a date to spend time with Marlena and Andrea," Danica said and opened the portal back into the temple of Sekmamun.

They both stepped through the portal and Celes sighed, hefting her sagging breasts. "I think I'll use a normal teleport to return."

Danica hugged her friend and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Don't lock yourself away too long."

Celes smiled, cast the common spell of teleportation, and vanished.

When Danica turned to leave the temple, she found Harkhuf standing in the doorway, looking concerned.

"What's wrong, Harkhuf?"

"I wished to warn you to tread lightly. Five sons of the great Pharaoh have come to our city."

Danica raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Five sons? He must be a very busy man."

"They are but the youngest of thirty. Pharaoh remains vigorous despite his age, and has many concubines. These are far removed from the divine throne, but are still Sons of the Living God."

"It may be a good time to lock myself up in the house until I'm ready to leave," Danica mused.

Harkhuf nodded his agreement. "That may indeed be a wise course of action. I shall have scribes continue to copy the spells within these walls and have them sent to you."

"Tari can keep them for me if I'm away and I'll pick them up the next time I pass through." Danica felt a familiar sensation bubbling up within her, the building pressure of her desire, denied for too long. "Maybe I could hide away here for a few hours," she purred and ran a finger along his bare chest.

Harkhuf stiffened and closed his eyes for a moment. "Would that I could accommodate you, but I must purify my body and soul for a sacred ceremony."

Danica pouted prettily for a moment, but shook it off and said, "Perhaps the next time I'm here then?"

"I would be most pleased to share my bed with you again."

She blew him a kiss and exited the library then, returning to the outpost and her own room. A sigh escaped her as she realized the sun was near to rising. She lay down in her bed and used her toy to relieve the ache between her legs before drifting off to sleep.

The sun had set, risen, and now dropped toward the horizon once more. Zoraster remained in the same position he had assumed upon grasping the obelisk. His eyes were wide open, bloodshot, and saw nothing. Tears streamed down from his eyes to lips set in a snarl over tightly clenched teeth. The tears mingled with rivulets of sweat escaping from every pore of his body, and a constant trembling shook his robed form.

The artifact began to tremble and hum in his tightly clenched fist. A nightblue aura of light pulsed around the artifact, growing brighter. The light intensified, and so did the trembling and sweating of the man who clutched it.

Just as it seemed their shaking would tear them both apart, the Archmage let out a snarl of rage that changed to a scream of triumph as he raised the obelisk high and its glow vanished.

Zoraster laughed weakly in victory, staring at the artifact. "You are mine!" Bracing his body with a hand on the table before him, he rose unsteadily to his feet. A thought brought his staff to him, a staff imbued with so much magic that any common wizard could not have even held in his hand.

That symbol of his power now served to aid his steps as he hobbled out of the room where he had defeated the obelisk, clutching it tightly in his hand. Leaning against the doorway, the Archmage pulled forth a small vial and brought it to his lips with a trembling hand.

As the rejuvenate potion coursed through his blood, his strength somewhat returned. It would take far more than a simple potion to renew the physical and mental strength lost in the battle he had just won, and he intended to have that now.

Concentrating, he activated a power within his staff that he rarely used, preferring to rely upon his own power for such spells. The teleportation magic carried him to his personal dungeon.

Moving with more strength now, he passed the cells of unfortunates that had transgressed against him. None would be missed in the world beyond, he was careful to ensure that, and one in particular was of no more use to him whatsoever.

Arriving at her cell, he looked in upon her. Once she had been beautiful, but lack of food and rest — coupled with torture — had taken its toll. She was gaunt, bones easily visible beneath her pale skin, and her head was bare from tearing out her own hair.

He removed the magical barrier that held her captive and stepped inside. Weakly, the woman tried to move away from the approaching Archmage, but she had little strength and soon collapsed to the floor.

"Perhaps you are now willing to tell me what I wish to know?" Zoraster asked, knowing the answer he would receive. He had tried all means of torture and magic to discern the secrets he wished from her, to no avail. The woman would go to her grave with the secrets of psionic defense she possessed.

"Never," the woman hoarsely replied.

Zoraster smiled. Her body was weak, but her spirit was still strong. Her defiance presented Zoraster with another means to serve him now. Calling upon the powers of his staff, he lifted her body and slammed it against the wall. When she struck, manacles of magic closed around her wrists and ankles, pulling and holding her spread out wide before him.

"Take... Body... Still..." The woman weakly attempted to taunt him.

He knew what she meant to say, as she had said it each time he had ordered her sexually assaulted, or had done so himself. "You misunderstand, to some extent. I am indeed here for your body, but not in such a manner as you believe."

Pulling the obelisk from his robes, he walked in front of her. Concentrating for a moment, he stared at the obelisk. The artifact changed into a serrated dagger of deepest black, surrounded by an aura of darkness. Stepping forward, he moved the tip of the knife toward her breast, just touching the blade to her nipple.

The woman moaned in terror as she felt her very life sucked from her. Zoraster, in turn, shuddered as he felt that strength transferred to him. Pulling the dagger away, he pressed it against her other breast, closer to her heart. She did not moan this time. Her head, which had been raised in defiance, dropped limp to her chest.

Pulling the dagger away again, he licked his lips and reveled in the feeling of her lifeforce surging through his body, rejuvenating him. He pulled her head upward just enough that she could see what he was doing, making sure her eyes were open. He leaned down and looked into her eyes with a wide smile, drinking in the terror within her bloodshot orbs.

He then thrust the dagger between her legs and into her depths to the hilt, violating her one last time even as she died.

Her lifeforce surged through the dagger into Zoraster's body, restoring his strength, and even increasing it. The woman's thoughts and memories leeched from her as well, imprisoned within the knife for the Archmage to glean at will. In the end, Zoraster stood straight and confident, tightly gripping the dagger buried in the dry husk of the woman's body.

Pulling the dagger free, he smiled at the sound, similar to sheaves of dry parchment tearing. He then concentrated again, and the dagger changed back into its familiar obelisk form.

Slipping the obelisk back in his robes, Zoraster clenched his fists and felt the power flowing through him. He reached up to the neck of the withered corpse above him and gripped it. The flesh collapsed against the bone, flakes and dust filtering down to the floor. With a jerk, he pulled the corpse forward and hurled it toward the floor.

Sharp cracks sounded as the hands and feet of the corpse snapped off where they were held by the manacles. A cloud of dust arose when the rest of the corpse hit the floor with great force. Bones and bits of leathery flesh scattered everywhere.

Slapping his hands together to brush the dust off of them, Zoraster smiled and walked over the dusty remnants of the woman's corpse out of the cell. "Farewell, my dear. We could have had an arrangement, but alas that is now just — dust in the wind."

Loud mocking laughter echoed through the corridors as the Archmage walked away.

Danica spent the day in study once she had awakened, and thus she started when Tari called to her from the doorway of her room. Danica had not even noticed the woman approaching.

"Danica, a messenger has arrived for you from the palace."

Tari's discomfort was obvious, and that did not bode well in Danica's mind. She rose immediately and exited her room, telling Tari she could go back to her room if she wanted to. Tari breathed a sigh of relief at this news, and Danica gave her a little kiss on the forehead before sending her on her way.

Walking into the common room, Danica found an unfamiliar man waiting for her. It took only a moment of observation to determine he was connected with people of high rank. He had on gold bracelets, gold earrings, and even his fine linen kilt was trimmed with gold. "I'm Danica," she informed him.

Bowing his head to her, the messenger said, "Khepri, Son of the Living God, Pharaoh Sheshonq, requests that you dance for him in the palace when the Sun God sleeps."

So much for laying low, Danica thought, and then answered, "I would be honored to dance for the Son of Pharaoh. Please tell him that I will come."

The messenger bowed again, and Danica showed him to the door. Looking out the door as she let him out, Danica realized she didn't have long to prepare if she wanted to reach the palace in time.

She hurried to her bath, asking Tari to prepare something specific — very revealing and easily shed — for her to dance in. Once she finished bathing, Danica put on the clothing Tari had laid out for her. The linen top hung from her shoulders by thin straps and just covered her breasts, leaving her midriff bare. In truth, it did little to cover her since it was so sheer as to appear almost completely transparent.

Her pleated skirt was made of the same material, but hid more of her because of the pleats. The way the pleats were fashioned, Danica knew that concealing element would vanish quickly if she spun even slightly as she danced.

She put on the bracelets and anklets with the bells that sounded like cymbals, and added a beaded rope belt having more of the same bells attached to it. She slipped on a pair of sandals, but these were simply to protect her feet on the journey to the palace. She would take them — and the linen robe she put on last — off before she danced.

Once she was prepared, Danica stepped outside and discovered that at least the trip to the palace would not prove troublesome. The palace had sent a curtained sedan chair for her, borne upon long poles by a dozen strong men. The messenger who had informed her of the Prince's desire to see her dance gestured to the conveyance when Danica emerged from the house.

Danica pulled the curtains when she sat down, feeling self-conscious about people carrying her around like royalty. She found the curtains were sheer enough that she could easily see through them. The cushions were soft and comfortable, and the bearers well trained. The ride was swift and pleasant, and she soon recognized the interior of the palace. The bearers only sat the chair down when they had arrived within the audience hall where she had danced before.

Danica stepped from inside the curtains to see that only the sons of the King were present in the hall, along with a troupe of musicians. The bearers and the messenger who had delivered her left the room as soon as she exited the conveyance.

Danica stepped forward and curtsied, saying, "I am honored that you would seek me out and request that I dance for you."

The young man, whom Danica determined must be the oldest since he sat on the throne, flanked by his younger brothers, replied, "These halls echo with praises for your dance, and we would see such wonders ourselves."

The men were obviously brothers, and all very close in age. Unless Danica missed her guess, some of them had different mothers, because she doubted from looking at them that there was enough difference in their ages to have allowed one woman to bear them all.

All had dark hair, worn long, and skin tone that was dusky but looked more like a tan than the darker skin of the commoners. They were all powerfully built, and quite handsome. Danica felt a tingle run through her breasts and between her legs as she looked on them.

Danica smiled and said, "Allow me a moment to speak with the musicians and I will be pleased to dance for you."

She did just that, telling the musicians to strike up the same music from her last dance. She planned to do the same routine, only slightly modified for the different audience.

Upon informing the musicians of the music and cues, Danica returned to her spot before the throne, removing her sandals and robe. Smiles crept onto the faces of the brothers as she revealed her body to them.

Danica lifted her arms above her head, signaling for the music to begin. Her dance was once again flawless, and this time she took pains to make intimate eye contact with each of the brothers, as she had with the governor before. The evidence of the men's arousal was evident shortly after Danica began her dance, kilts rising into tents from their laps.