The Science of Magic
copyright 2006 Zinnia Hope
Publisher Freya's Bower
The same receptionist sat at the desk that had been working the day before. Upon noticing Garnet, the woman rose and motioned for her to follow. They traversed halfway down the long, white corridor. The secretary stopped and opened a door to a sapphire blue room. The walls, ceiling and floor gleamed with the rich color, and for a moment, Garnet was almost convinced she was deep below the ocean’s surface. In the center of the room, a chaise covered in indigo velvet sat in a large circular indention. Strange illumination added to the chamber’s deep ocean effect.
“The sorceress will be with you shortly,” the receptionist said and gestured toward the chaise. She turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her.
“Please sit,” a young feminine voice said.
Garnet gasped and stumbled back, her high heels screeching on the polished floor. She hadn’t noticed the adolescent enter the chamber. Her legs shaking under her, Garnet sat down on the lounger, the velvet rough against her hands. She crossed her legs, the dim light catching the neon colors on the tips of her clear stilettos, and watched as the attendant placed a gold coin on the tip of a thin post. Light shot from the floor to the ceiling, encircling the chaise and nearly blinding Garnet.
A grand banquet hall stretched before Garnet. In one corner, musicians played lutes, pipes, harps and lyres, their sweet melody drifting over the room like dandelion fluff. Rich tapestries of warriors in battle hung upon the stone walls. Reeds, straw, pillows and naked bodies littered the floor. Twosomes, threesomes, and many in writhing, groping masses uttered sounds of pleasure and climax. Garnet realized her mouth hung open and shut it firmly. Why would the sorceress want her to see a palace orgy?
On a pile of embroidered pillows, two well-built men caressed one another. She couldn’t help but admire their tight asses and muscular bodies. A man with a dark beard and hair acted as the dominate one over the other with long, raven-black locks. Why are the good-looking ones always gay, Garnet mused. The bearded one rolled his partner over, revealing the other man’s face. A startled cry slipped from Garnet’s lips, and her hand flew to her mouth.
Tom!
Friday, August 11, 2006
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