his story is set in a time before time, in an England
of legend that may never have existed, in the realm of
a majestic lord, Malinov.
Magnus the Great was his court magician, a powerful
figure, respected (and a little feared) by all. To help
him attain this pinnacle of power the Great Magnus had
chosen to be celibate all his life. Until, one day, he
took in a waif as an apprentice...
"I'm so tired... so very tired," he groaned, squinting
at the manuscript propped up before him on the cluttered
table. The wind was moaning through cracks and
crevices in the ancient tower room, causing the fire
to dance in the grate.
Magnus of Malinov Heap rubbed his tired eyes. He felt
used up, a dry husk of his former self. He had seen so
much, done so much, much that was too horrible to be
mentioned. Everything he had done had been for the good
of the realm, and he wouldn't do it differently even if
he had the chance.
Nonetheless, the Oracle had issued a frightful prophecy
of his passing, revenge for what he'd done to her and
to her allies. 'A court magician's fate can be cruel,'
Now that the winter solstice had arrived, the prophecy
would be fulfilled; he knew this, but still had no idea
what form it would take. He'd worried about this day
for many years, ever since the witch-thing had pronounced
his fate. Her words rang in his head like
swords clashing in battle. "Thou shalt feel the heat of
the stroke of youth upon thy body, as thee passes over
the threshold of life. This shall come to pass at the
twenty-second hour of the twenty-second day of the
twenty-second year of the Great Malinov's reign. Make
thee ready, for thou canst not change thy fate, for it
shall come to pass on this earth, on that day, and at
that time o' year."
The magician sat at his table, the cold creeping into
his bones, as if deathly fingers were tightening their
grip upon him. He could hear faint sounds of feasting
far below in the great hall, but was not in the mood
for merrymaking. 'Let them make merry. One day their
doom will come and they won't even know it has
arrived,' he thought bitterly.
He rose with a sigh from the table and shuffled across
the room to the door of his study. His voice creaking,
he called out: "Kat, where are you, lad? Bring me
drink; I'm as parched as a winter's field."
'Where is that boy?' he thought. He was a good lad, and
the magician wasn't quite as upset with him as he
appeared to be, but he was thirsty and needed a drink.
Just then the young apprentice burst through the door,
breathless and distraught. "Noble Magnus, please
forgive me! I was watching the lords and ladies and
knights below; they're so delightful and gay. And I
lost track of the time! Sorry, master!" He held up a
steaming mug of mulled-wine with both hands, as if in
supplication, worry and concern in his eyes.
The magician looked at the youth's clear, shining face,
and thought, for the hundredth time: 'Why does this lad
pull at my heart-strings so?'
At first, Magnus had simply been attracted by the boy's
winning manner, and his willing and intelligent nature.
It was why he had taken him on as his apprentice in the
first place. As time passed, however, his feelings for
the lad became something more. Magnus tried to deny it,
but what he felt for the apprentice was... sexual.
He still found it difficult to accept, and shook his
head to himself in silent denial. He hadn't actually
had physical relations with another person...ever, not
allowing himself to get close to any woman; they were
all dangerous, and full of intrigue.
Deeply melancholy, he thought about all the warring and
death he'd seen in his life and sighed again. Returning
to his worktable, he caught the youth looking at him
with shining eyes. He was momentarily confused. The boy
made him feel... aroused. That was the only word to
describe how he felt.
Ashamed of such feelings, the magician took the mug
proffered by the lad and turned to his table with a
tightening in his throat.
Kat moved to the magician's side, looking worried.
"Master, you seem tired today."
Magnus wanted to tell the boy to let him be, but could
Kat reached out and touched the magician's arm.
"Master, are you all right? You look flushed. Have you
been worrying about the prophecy again? You mustn't,
you know! I wouldn't let anything happen to you, I
promise. I'll watch over you tonight, and every night."
The tired magician smiled at his young servant,
trembling slightly with a sense of premonition. He had
a strong impulse to reach out and kiss the lad, to hug
his handsome young body to his own. Such thoughts made
the magician's heart beat faster; he could almost feel
the blood coursing through his veins.
The youth misinterpreted Magnus's worried countenance
as fear, and stepped up close, to fold the wizard in
his strong young arms.
Magnus yielded to the youth's embrace, the touch of his
skin and the lad's fresh scent, which he inhaled
deeply. He began to cry silently as the youth hugged
him tightly to his breast. Before he knew what he was
doing, Magnus was pressing his lips against the boy's
To his amazement, Kat didn't pull away in disgust, but
kissed him back with youthful passion. They maintained
their intimate embrace for a long while, kissing and
hugging each other, until Magnus managed to bring his
emotions under control.
He stepped back from his child apprentice and said
solemnly: "Young Kat, this isn't right. I mustn't
behave in this unholy fashion towards you. I mustn't
take advantage of your youth, or of your love for me
as your master. Please forgive me, and forget what I
did just now."
His apprentice came up close to the old man and
whispered: "Master, 'tis true that I love you, and
that I am young. But you've done nothing here today
that I did not desire. I have pined for you since the
very beginning, when we first met."
The wizard turned away to conceal his tears, but Kat
reached out for his shoulders, turning him so that
they stood face-to-face. "Master, my only desire is
to lie with you this night. I wish to please you, to
make you a gift of my youth. It is all I have to give,
but I sense that it may take from you the melancholy
that I see in your eyes."
Magnus was shocked by these words, but at the same time
he felt a lust for this youth growing deep within his
body. He had thought such feelings had been banished
many years since. To his surprise, however, he suddenly
felt young again, seeing himself through the eyes of
the youth who stood before him. Lust was written on the
apprentice's smooth face, proving that he had not
spoken merely from pity.
Nevertheless, he looked just like an angel, his long
shiny hair framing a clear-complexioned face. How
lovely he is! was the magician's guilty thought.
The boy slipped a slender, shapely hand under the
Magician's robe, touching him tentatively, almost
shyly, before wrapping his fingers around the older
man's tumescent member.
The magician gasped when he felt Kat's cool hand on
his organ. It was a strangely exhilarating feeling,
one he'd never felt, nor ever expected to feel.
The apprentice looked up enquiringly at his master
and smiled a beautiful smile, quite disarming the older
Magnus thought: 'How could I not see how beautiful he
was all the time we've been together?'
As if reading the magician's mind, Kat moved closer to
him, and pressed soft lips against those of his master
in a deep, passionate kiss. Then, without saying a
word, he bade the older man stand and led the bedazzled
wizard to his bed chamber, lightly massaging his
swollen organ as they went.
Magnus couldn't believe what was happening to him. His
mind and body were both in a kind of helpless daze. Sex
with another male had never previously entered his
head, but he was like putty in the hands of this lad,
and fully prepared to do whatever was asked of him. He
must accept his doom, no matter what it was. The
slightest touch, or kiss, even the smell of the boy's
arousal, took away his will. He couldn't resist, nor
did he want to resist. He welcomed the sensations that
his young lover was bestowing so freely upon him.
He didn't care that the fame and reputation he had
built over many years might be destroyed at once by
an illicit love affair. He wanted only the youthful
pleasures this boy was offering him.
As the apprentice put his master's robe aside, the old
magician thought wistfully that if only he'd employed
a female it would at least have been respectable in the
eyes of his lord, and of the other nobles of the heap.
Magnus closed his eyes and lay back to receive the
attentions of the man-child, now so dominant in their
relationship. He was deliberately letting this happen.
The magician opened his eyes long enough to reassure
himself that love and desire were truly written on the
handsome face hovering over his own. He ran through
the prophecy again in his head. "Thou shalt feel the
heat of the stroke of youth upon thy body, as thee
passes over the threshold of life. This shall come to
pass at the twenty-second hour of the twenty-second
day of the twenty-second year of the Great Malinov's
reign. Make thee ready, for thou canst not change thy
fate, for it shall come to pass on this earth, on that
day, and at that time o' year."
Was this what it meant? Was this lad going to bring him
to ruin, and take his place as Magician at Malinov
He jerked as his love began manipulating his straining
member once more. He still couldn't believe it was
really happening, but when he opened his eyes Kat was
crouched over him, young and innocent, earnestly intent
on his work. He tossed his long hair gracefully over
one shoulder, tucking the remaining golden strands
behind an ear. To the magician's amazement, the apprentice
leaned forward and encircled the older man's cock-head
with soft full lips, which then slid down to
engulf Magnus's organ to the hilt.
The magician's mind was reeling, overpowered by overwhelming
sensations. His recent cares were quite
forgotten as he began uncontrollably to lurch his hips
toward his young lover's mouth.
The decadent scene went on for many minutes, until
curtailed by the youth pulling his soft, sucking lips
from his master's rampant member. "Master, there's
something I must tell you..."
Magnus felt such keen disappointment that his apprentice
had stopped his wonderful sucking that he pleaded
in a whisper, his breath coming in gasps: "Please, Kat,
don't stop now. Please... Please..."
Kat looked down at the magician, love and care in
his clear blue eyes, and shrugged. Pulling his coarse
robe - the robe of a servant - up to his thighs, he
moved up the magician's body until the old man's organ
was pressed against his crotch. He reached down a hand
to caress the magician's now-slick member, smoothing
fluids over and around the cock-head, while Magnus
writhed under his attentions.
Then, amazingly, the old man felt his shaft engulfed
by something moist, and warm. He opened his eyes,
wondering how his young lover could reach him with his
mouth while sitting so far forward on him.
His eyes went very wide when he saw that the boy was
rhythmically riding his erection. Somehow the he was
making normal sexual love to him. Magnus was confused,
but the feelings of his aroused body soon overpowered
He had reached a level of pleasure never before experienced
during his celibate life. He reached out for the
youth's hips, running his hands up either side of the
boy's waist, underneath his robe. The feel of the boy's
skin gave him great joy. Such freshness was truly a
gift, the older man mused, his body surging beneath
that of his young student.
The magician explored the youth's body, bouncing
rhythmically above him, with trembling hands. The young
flesh felt delightful to his touch; Magnus had never
felt anything like it before. He ran his hand up to the
youth's chest, intending to help support the boy's
weight, but the palms of his hands encountered large,
swollen nipples. This fleetingly struck the magician as
being a little strange.
He felt his seed stirring from deep within, his
apprentice's energetic sexual activity bringing him to
an unfamiliar peak. Beginning to lose control of his
own body, he moved his hands downwards to cup the boy's
soft breasts. (SOFT BREASTS!!)
Was that really what he'd felt? Was the boy, then, not
a boy after all? He looked into his lover's eyes, and
she smiled back lovingly, increasing her pace on top of
As full realization dawned on the old magician, his
hips bucked violently. Sperm spasmed from his depths,
spurting out of his jerking body into the apprentice's
nubile one. Spasm after spasm racked the wizard's body,
and he fought for breath.
Meanwhile, the young woman mounted on top of him kept
up her relentless pace, rubbing her young mound
frantically against his, as if trying to draw the last
drop of his vital fluids out of him.
He couldn't breathe, and he was becoming light-headed;
darkness finally enveloped him as he lost consciousness.
The last thing he saw or heard was the young woman's
crying out as she orgasmed at his passing...
His last thought was: "Thou shalt feel the heat of the
stroke of youth upon thy body, as thou passes over the
threshold of life...
he sun shone in dusty streams through the high, glazed
windows. The tower room brightened with every passing
moment. A stray beam of sunlight fell across the young
woman lying carelessly naked on the bed. Her beautiful
blue eyes fluttered open as the warm sun played across
her perfectly-formed body.
She yawned and stretched contentedly, and looked over
at her sleeping lover. Reaching out to caress his cheek,
she then bent close and kissed him awake.
"Wondrous woman," were his first words, "how could I
not have known? Look at you! You're beautiful! What am
I to call you now!? Surely Kat no longer?"
"Master, my real name is Katherine, and Kat suits me
very well. I would have told you about myself last
night, but you were too impatient," she said, lovingly
stroking his cheek.
"Well, lovely woman-child, let us go down to the great
hall and greet the day! Suddenly I feel like celebrating
at the Solstice feast, and won't Lord Malinov be
surprised when I present my new apprentice at court!"
Kat wrinkled her nose with a lovely smile before taking
on a serious expression and reciting the first line of
the ancient prophesy that had plagued the old magician
for so many years.
"Master, she intoned, "Thou shalt feel the heat of the
stroke of youth upon thy body." Her face brightened,
and she giggled delightfully. "I certainly felt the
heat of your strokes last night!"
Both laughed, and they hugged each other. The magician
thought: 'I care not, just so that I live one more
night. That will be enough, and should any more days be
left to me, they will be more valuable than any that
hey didn't actually make it down to the great hall
until the early afternoon of that day. When, however,
they did reach the ground floors of the Malinov Heap,
they added their cheerful voices to the general merriment,
and received many an amazed stare.
(The moral of this story? - 'There's no fool like an old fool').
All my thanks...
to Stephen for his encouragement and proofing and to Ian for doing such
a good job editing my little story.
© December 1997 Kristen Kathleen Becker
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Please do not remove the author information or make
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