I cock a hip, looking as coy as I can with my arms bound and my tits out. “I am.”
There are a few whoops from the assembled wizards, and I hide a shiver.
“Here’s how the game is going to work,” I say as Cancassi’s cane taps to circle behind me. “Most of you, I know. Many of you, I’ve cast with. But I’m still becoming familiar with the full roster of the Crux,” I say as my eyes linger on the wizards I only know by face. “By the end of the night, I want to know everyone.”
Cancassi’s hand slides around my waist before they find the tie of my skirt. They tug the knot loose, allowing the flowing black fabric to slide down my bare legs. There are a few appreciative cheers and whistles from the assembled wizards.
“Is touching allowed?” The man who asks is a few years older than me with a strong jaw, a splash of white cutting through his darkbrown hair at his left temple. I recognize him from one of the stormy summer nights spent in the divination tower, but his name escapes me entirely.
“Even better,” I say as Cancassi pulls out a coil of knotted rope. They thread it through my legs, handing one end to Ambra while they keep hold of the other. “I’m going to learn all of your names while I serve tea. If I’ve forgotten anyone by the end, you will get the opportunity to make sure I never forget.”
“So, we get to fuck the Grandmaster of the Crux?” Iona asks before tsking. “It’s a shame you already know me, Galiva.”
The man with the white streak barks a laugh, and I like him immediately. The energy in the room makes heat drip between my legs.
I realize what a rare opportunity this is. People fall naturally into casting circles when they join the Crux. Newcomers drift towards other newcomers like I did with Olbric and Cancassi, or mentors take new adepts under their wing like I did with Dom. People who have been at the Crux for longer tend to stick to their circles, but I’m glad to give an opportunity for people to mingle in a less charged setting than the parties during the summer storms.
Cancassi takes a cup from the tray before filling it with floral tea. They set it on my tray, and the extra weight forces me to bite back a groan. They’ve filled itveryfull, and I straighten, steadying my breath to avoid spilling.
“How about you take that one to Ambra?” Cancassi suggests. Between them and Ambra, they lift until the knotted rope is pulled firmly against my crotch. The friction of it against my sensitive skin makes my first step an unsteady one.
Gods, what have I signed myself up for?
The rope slides between the folds of my cunt as I take another step forward, but I only hit the first knot as I finish my last step towards Ambra. The rope suddenly goes slack, and I bite back a groan of relief as I kneel.
“For you, Ambra,” I say, and the woman beams at me as she lifts the cup from my tray.
“Thank you, Grandmaster,” she says and hands the end of the rope to Iona next. I’m allowed to walk back to Cancassi without the drag of the rope, but as soon as the second cup is placed on my tray, it pulls taut between my legs again. It’s only a slight distance longer to reach Iona, but I feel every extra inch before I kneel to offer Iona her cup.
Thaddius is next, and he hands the rope off to a woman I only recognize by face. Her skin is pale, and she has strong features that are brushed by short-cropped black hair. She wears a smile as I approach, and my cunt drags over another knot before I kneel.
“Remind me your name,” I say, breathless already.
The woman chuckles as she takes the cup. “Rega. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Grandmaster.”
The name connects, and I know her from the spell sheets as an illusionist and enchanter. Which means that the petite, Lenear-tan woman beside her is likely Korina. It’s only confirmed after I present her a cup. She beams at me as I say, “For you, Korina.”
I continue dutifully on, taking each teacup, walking down the rope, and kneeling to present it to the next person before I return to Cancassi. Around me, conversations have kicked up. Laughter and jeers follow every stumble, and soon enough, a bet starts to circulate on if I’ll spill or break a cup.
So far so good on that front, but the attention, the feeling of so many eyes on me, watching me, makes my body feel hot.
My nipples throb with every heartbeat, my cunt and clit aching from the rough stimulation of the rope. I serve Adan and Rosemarie before moving onto Sergei and Emil. Marvin takes his with a smile before I move onto Zoran.
The older Kenitkan man takes his cup before lifting it in thanks. We came to an agreement a long time ago that we wouldn’t directly cast with one another, so I know he’s simply here to watch. When I first arrived at the Crux, we had a long conversation about whether we would cross that line, but ultimately him having cast with my mother while she was in residence made it just atouchtoo awkward for us both.
I make it about halfway around the room when my composure finally breaks. The knot rubs in just the right way as I walk over it, and I can’t help a moan as a weak orgasm washes through me. My legs shake, and the teacup slides precariously.
The whole room lets out an anticipatory sound, but before the cup can topple from the tray, I righten myself with a gasp. A splash of tea sloshes out of the cup, but the cup doesn’t leave the tray.
There’s a collective groan from the room around me, and I can’t help but laugh. Their enjoyment is infectious, and even though I’m sure they’re rooting for me to fail, the defiant part of me enjoys proving them wrong. All nerves about this enchantment have left me, leaving me feeling high in the grip of conspace. It’s heady to be at the center of their enjoyment and entertainment, even if it’s stemming from my own struggle.
I continue my task with a renewed vigor, serving tea to each and every person. I reach the man with the white streak and confirm his name is Patrik, while the large man next to him is Jonas. I move on to Orabelle, then the quiet conjurer Hughes, who blushes so prettily as I kneel to offer him his cup.
Esra, who takes on any and all agricultural assignments. Bastien, the fair-skinned noble who I think Cancassi said was related to theDuke of Frostcliff? Or maybe that was someone else, it’s hard to keep up with all that Cancassi knows of the Crux’s residents. No one else gets around quite like they do, but I force myself to refocus as I reach our newer recruit, a pale northern woman named Liria.
I serve tea to every last person before I return to Cancassi, my legs shaking as I sink to kneel beside them. My knees are going to be peppered with bruises tomorrow, but right now, the marks feel like a triumph. I pant for breath as Cancassi runs a hand over my hair.
“Well done, Gal.”
