An Ode to Uncertainty – Chapter 21 [MF][Fantasy]

Please read chapters 1 – 20 first if you have not done so. This is not a stand-alone story. Link to other chapters in comments.

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Jarl looked up at his stepmother. No. Not stepmother any longer. Wife. She was his wife now. By the seventh, how he hated that. Her large breasts were bouncing up and down as she rode him. He did like her tits though. Reaching up and grabbed one in each hand and massaged them.

“Yes. Yes,” Else moaned. “Harder.”

Jorn pinched her nipples hard. She squirmed and moaned louder. Jarl sighed. It wasn’t any fun hurting her when she just enjoyed it. He didn’t mind pleasing women, quite the opposite, but with his stepmoth-. Wife. By the Gods. Wife. How hard should it be to remember that? With his *wife* it wasn’t true. If it hadn’t been for his cock being almost eternally rigid, a side effect from his work with the Mistresses, he doubted that he could even have performed with her at all.

“Are you done soon?” he sighed.

The slap hit him right on his cheek and she didn’t even slow her pace. He could feel his skin burning where her fingers had connected. He sighed once more. Closed his eyes and tried to think of Cyra. That girl at least made him lust properly. Doing his best to ignore his stepmo- … he groaned, *wife’s* moans he just focused on his rod and the warmth that was enveloping him.

An eternity later she finally climaxed on top of him and slid down to lay by his side.

“That was very nice,” she said in a husky voice.

Jarl sighed and rolled over to one side. He glanced down at his cock. Still hard. He sat up in bed, his back towards his pregnant wife. There. He remembered. That wasn’t so hard was it?

“Where are you going?” she asked as he stood up and walked out of the room.

She said something more, but he did his best at ignoring it. He had become an expert at ignoring Else. His rod still pointed straight out from his naked body as he walked down the hallway. The two guards posted on each side of the door pointedly ignored him as he passed.

As he went by an open door he stopped. There was a maid on her knees scrubbing the floor of one of the guest rooms. He didn’t recognize her from behind, but his cock didn’t care. He walked up behind her and pulled her dress up.

“Hey!” she said whipping her head back at him. When she saw him, the blood drained out of her face.

She was a mousy faced thing with stripy hair. But right now, it didn’t matter. She looked decent from behind.

“Oh. I’m sorry milord,” she said and turned around to get back to what she was doing.

Jarl pulled her wollen underwear down and ran his fingers along her slit. Dry as a cinderbox. He spat on his fingers and started massaging the maid’s quim. She whimpered a little, but after a bit of work she was wet enough. He slid his cock into her and closed his eyes. She was a skinny thing. He could feel her hip bones as he grabbed her and started thrusting harder. At least she was tight, and it didn’t take too long until his seed ran into her. He jerked a few times, pushing the last of his seed into her. He knew how angry it would make the princess if he got another one of the maids pregnant and it was the first feeling of joy of the day.

The maid shivered a little as he pulled out of her. Jarl pulled her dress down over her ass again and left her to her scrubbing. He headed down to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Breakfast was always too damn late. Better to get some bread fresh from the oven.

Faces turned towards him as he entered the kitchen, but as they saw who it was, they went back to their chores, more intent on their work than before.

“By the seventh,” Jarl cursed as he grabbed a fresh loaf from the pantry.

He stared down at his cock that once more stood at attention, looking fairly similar to the piece of bread in his hand. He sighed and looked around. His eyes landed on one of the cooks. The one with an ass the width of a barn door.

“You,” he said pointing at the woman.

All eyes went to him again but as soon as they saw that he hadn’t addressed them they turned away. Everyone but the big cook. Jarl nodded at her, then down at his rigid shaft. The cook curtsied slightly and walked towards him hesitantly. Jarl raised an eyebrow and the woman got down on her knees and took him in her mouth. Jarl let out a sigh of relief as she started working his shaft with her lips and tongue. He couldn’t remember if he had used this one before, but he definitely would again. She was quite good. He took another bite of the bread. It too was excellent. He chewed slowly as the cook sucked his cock. Just as he took the last bite and swallowed it down, he felt himself getting close to the edge. Grabbing the cook by the hair he thrust his shaft all the way down her throat and unloaded. Her wide nose pressed up against his bare stomach as his seed ran down her throat. Jarl let out a sigh of relief and let the woman go. She gasped for air as Jarl left her, and the kitchen, behind.

​

“My prince,” Sigrid said, walking up next to him as he walked back towards the bedroom.

“Sigrid,” Jarl said, mostly ignoring his bodyguard.

“Please tell me that you have reconsidered?”

Jarl stopped in his tracks and turned towards her. She was wearing her tight-fitting leather clothes, but on her back was a fine black cloak that he hadn’t seen before. The sight of her made his cock twitch back to life again. He sighed.

“What?” he said feeling the irritation grow.

“The ball,” Sigrid said as if that would mean anything to him.

He glared at her for a moment as his little warrior once more got ready for a bout. Sigrid’s eyes shifted down to his erect member and the quickly back up to his face.

“You cannot attend the ball. I am certain that the wraith will attack again.”

Jarl sighed. This again.

“No. I have not reconsidered. You simply don’t understand. There is no way that I can decline an invitation from the emperor. I would become pariah. Not to speak of what my wife would do to me if she wouldn’t be allowed to attend.”

Jarl was quite satisfied with having remembered to call Else his wife.

“But-“

“No. That is my final word. Now. Unless you are willing to please me with your mouth, or more preferably your ass, we are done here.”

Sigrid’s eyes flashed down to his erect flesh again and then back up. She glared at him. Jarl sighed. If only she would be as willing as she was in his dreams. How he would love to sink his cock into her tight rear as he had done so many times beyond the veil of sleep.

“Suit yourself,” he said turning away. “I am going out to find some relief.”

*

It took five more women before his needs had finally been stilled. Jarl looked down at the four girls that lay exhausted on the parlor bed. Sigrid stood by the doorway with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. He did his best to ignore her. At least she didn’t look as angry as when he had taken the baker’s daughter while the baker ran out for some fresh apples after he ordered his apple pie. That young woman had been fine, very fine.

He pulled his clothes on and left the ladies of the night, or rather, ladies of the fairly early morning, behind. They got into the carriage and Jarl threw some coins to a street urchin that was admiring their opulent white carriage. Jarl sighed. He hated the thing. But that was another thing that he had no say in. Else was a bitch of a woman. In every single way.

A bell later they arrived at the College. Jarl made his way to the Elemancy building with Sigrid in tow. The Sister seemed more brooding than usual for some reason. She left him at the entrance to the building and headed off to whatever it was she did when he was in class. Jarl liked the woman, and he would never forget the time he actually had her, outside of his dreams, and it always made his cock hard. He sighed and looked down at his bulging pants. No time to fix that now. He headed inside and spent the next two bells trying to decrypt the scribbles of Mistress Yorina. It would have been easier if he was seated in the front, but he had always preferred the back. It was high up and it felt like you could breathe properly. The auditorium was huge, and it was at least twenty paces to the blackboard where the Mistress’ chalk stick was clicking along.

He was taking third year studies in his first year. Apparently no one had done that in a decade. He didn’t mind Mistress Yorina, she was competent enough, but it didn’t compare to his private lessons with Master Cerdic.

“Hard again?” came a whisper in his ear at the same time as a hand stroked over his crotch.

He looked up to see Cyra seated next to him. He had been so focused on copying the Mistress’ notes that he had completely missed her sliding up to him.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered.

“Taking third year Elemancy class. What does it look like?” the redhead said before she disappeared down under the bench.

A moment later his flesh was free and another heartbeat later it was in Cyra’s mouth. Jarl blinked. Then leaned forward and continued copying the notes from the board.

“And remember. There is always an equal and opposite reaction to every action”, came the Mistress’ voice from below. “In Elemancy that reaction has to be channeled out of the practitioner and preferably into another dimension. Failure to do so can have dire consequences.”

She drew a few arrows on the board as Cyra bottomed out on Jarl’s shaft.

“Ahhh,” Jarl breathed.

“Yes?” Mistress Yorina said, turning around.

Jarl blinked as the whole class looked back up at him. He looked sideways and saw one of the other students trying to stifle a laugh as he saw what was going on. Luckily the auditorium was dimly lit, except for the podium and anyone more than five paces away wouldn’t see Cyra. Jarl tried to focus on something else than Cyra’s lips around his cock.

“I … eh. I mean.”

He closed his eyes for a moment trying to collect his thoughts.

“Can you give an example of what the effects would be, should one fail to channel to another dimension?” he said as rapidly as he could, his lips barely moving fast enough.

He saw the Mistress hesitate for an instant. Then she nodded.

“I see,” she began walking around on the podium, chin in hand. “There was an incident a few years back. A young acolyte was trying to lift an anvil. First mistake right there, never overestimate your powers. The risk of failure is higher the more you try push your limits. This young man’s failure to channel the reaction to a more suitable dimension ended up breaking both his legs as he was, quite spectacularly, pushed into the ground by the opposing force.”

Jarl bit his lip to stop himself from groaning as he released his seed down Cyra’s throat. Mistress Yorina looked up at him.

“Thank you,” Jarl sighed. “Thank you so much.”

The Mistress nodded and turned back to the blackboard.

“See you tonight,” Cyra said kissing him on the cheek before disappearing again.

*

“We need to explore your strength to its full extent. Control will come later”, Master Cerdic said slapping his shoulder.

Jarl breathed heavily. Sweat ran in small rivulets down his face. He wiped his face with his already soaked sleeve.

“Once more.”

Jarl grimaced. He was too tired to think, so he just did. And how easy it was. Power surged through him and out to the place behind his mind. The large block of massive black rock rose into the air and almost hit the ceiling twenty feet up before he regained control and put it neatly down on the wooden scaffolding. The wood groaned in protest under the weight.

“Excellent,” the Master said with a wide smile. “Did you feel how easy it was when you didn’t think?”

Jarl nodded.

“That is why we practice. To push the conscious mind out of the way of the flow. Magic resides in the unconscious. All you do is to unblock what has always been there. And let the power flow. Now. Again.”

The training continued for what felt like an eternity, but Jarl knew it was only two bells.

“Good. Tordgrim would be proud of you,” Master Cerdic said slapping Jarl’s shoulder after they were done. “Half a bell of physical training and you are free to go.”

Jarl nodded. He could barely lift his chin, but still he nodded. He left the practice hall behind and in a daze went over to the weightlifting room. A few others were there but Jarl ignored them the best he could as he went through the motions. Iron bars and stones were lifted until all his muscles were trembling. But the Master had spoken the truth, the stronger he got physically, the easier it was channeling the power. The blocks that he had lifted today wouldn’t even have budged an inch at the beginning of the semester. Tordgrim would have been proud indeed.

The soothing water of the baths took the worst of the cramps out and he put his head back on the marble edge of the pool and studied the carvings in the ceiling. He liked this room. The steaming baths gave everything an otherworldly feeling and every time he studied the ceiling, he found something that he hadn’t seen before. Or possibly hadn’t been there before, you never could know at the College.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Master of Asslicking.”

Jarl groaned. He knew that voice. The Idiot.

“Let him be, Aelric,” came another voice.

There were some shuffling of feet and then a couple of splashes. Jarl sighed and opened his eyes. At the other end of the pool sat three young men. The Idiot was in the middle and his posse of two were on either side.

“We really do wonder what you are doing with the Master all that time. Rumors are starting to spread,” the Idiot said nodding his head. “Not that I have anything against men licking other men’s asses. I’m no bigot or anything. To each his own.”

Jarl growled and closed his eyes again. If he just ignored the bastard, he would stop. He didn’t have the energy to deal with him as well. Else, Master Cerdic and the Mistresses were more than enough. And a sour Sigrid on top of that. No. Just ignore him.

“Your arms are getting wider at least. That’s good. That you have some brawn to compensate for the lack of brains.”

Jarl opened his eyes and glared at the man. He had hated the degenerate, slimy-faced bastard since he first laid eyes on him, but every time they met it got worse.

“Why don’t you just crawl back up whatever rotten cunt you crawled out from,” Jarl growled.

There was a moment of silence. Then the three of them burst out in laugher.

“Ohh. The glorious descendant of Tordgrim speaks. At last. We thought you might have lost your tongue up the Master’s ass,” the Idiot said with a smirk.

And just like that, the relaxation that the bath had given him was gone and the tension in his neck felt unbearable. He stared down at the dark water of the pool. Then up at the three men on the opposite end. They were scrawny things compared to him. Jarl stood up, the waters going just to his hips. He put one hand out and saw with satisfaction how the three of them flinched.

“You are a bug. I can squash you like this,” he said pressing thumb and finger together. “If I wanted to. But you are not worth my effort you little shitstain.”

The Idiot stood up.

“Aelric,” one of his friends said but the Idiot quieted him with a quick gesture.

“You are not as powerful as you think,” he said but Jarl could see the hesitation is his movements

“No? Then I challenge you to a duel. Come the morning,” Jarl said.

It was customary to name the opponents name in a challenge, but Jarl would never admit that he even knew the man’s name.

“Do you accept?”

The Idiot slapped away one of his friend’s hands when he tried to drag him down.

“I accept.”

“Good,” Jarl said nodding. “You choose the time, the place and weapons if any.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare at the man.

“The garden between Elemancy and Matrimancy,” the Idiot said trying to replicate Jarl’s pose and failing miserably. “As the first light hits the gargoyle on top of the Lost Princes. No weapons. Just our minds.”

“But that’s forbidden,” one of the Idiot’s followers said aghast.

“Shut up, Jory,” the Idiot hissed.

“Whatever,” Jarl said turning around and walking out of the pool, the water running down over his naked body. “Idiot,” he added as he went towards the exit.

“What did you say?”

Jarl turned around and beamed at the man.

“I said,” Jarl said walking backwards, raising both his hands, “Idiot.”

The satisfaction was complete as he saw the young man fume. He started towards Jarl who instinctively drew upon the power of the earth, but one of his friends restrained him.

“Come on Aelric. He’s not worth it,” the other man, who Jarl had never bothered to even remember his face, said.

“If you do not come, your name will be in the book of cowards until eternity!” the Idiot shouted.

Jarl just threw his hands up and walked away.

*

“I can tell you just did something stupid,” Sigrid said as she walked next to him towards the Matrimancy building.

Jarl never quite understood how she knew exactly when he was done with his classes or practice sessions, but she was always there when he moved from one place to another. But he didn’t mind the company.

“What did you do?” she pressed on.

Jarl looked sideways at her. She had that satisfied look on her face that she had sometimes. He always wondered what she had done when she did. Stabbed someone most likely.

“I have a duel in the morning.”

Sigrid stopped in her tracks. Jarl walked a few more paces before turning around and looking at her.

“I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

Sigrid pressed her lips together making them turn almost white against her pale skin.

“With whom.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

“The Idiot.”

The blood completely drained from the Sister’s face.

“You’re fighting Aelric? To the death?”

Jarl laughed.

“Of course not. I’m only going to slap him around a bit. So that he knows his place. This is a civilized place after all.”

Some of the tension left Sigrid’s features but he saw that she was still upset. They continued walking.

“You’re the idiot,” she mumbled, clearly intending for him to hear it.

He couldn’t help but smile.

​

Jarl’s cock was achingly hard as he knocked on the door to the Mistresses’ quarters. He looked sideways at the three girls seated outside. He had been with one of them before, but he didn’t remember her name. She was a cute little brunette that squealed most satisfactory as he impaled her. He looked forward to having her again. The door opened.

“You’re late,” Mistress Varja said, grabbing him by his coat and dragging him inside.

She was on her knees with his cock in her mouth before the door had closed behind him. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her lips around his shaft. Mistress Varja always greeted him in this way and Jarl had a suspicion that she needed it more than he did. He didn’t last more than a few drops of the lead.

“I will fill your throat now,” he hissed.

The suction on his member grew and Mistress Varja gulped down every last drop of his warm seed. He felt the power draining into the Mistress. He also felt the part that was siphoned down into the depths under the College as well as the tiny part that went elsewhere. He smiled as he could almost see the smile on Mirja’s face as she felt him climax.

“Good,” Mistress Varja said standing up and wiping her lips. “We have much to accomplish tonight.”

She pulled her long red hair back as she walked over to the table where she kept the books. Every single coupling and ejaculation that he had been involved in over the semester was noted within, with numerous columns for each. Jarl had never bothered to read it. His mind was normally on other things while he was here.

“I have fourteen couplings planned for this night,” Varja said picking up a pen and dipping it into ink, scribbling something in one of the columns.

Fourteen? They normally never did more than ten and he was usually drained like a broken sieve afterwards. He felt tired already.

“Can’t we just do five?”

Jarl from a year ago would have punched him in the face. Hard. But that was not who he was now. Mistress Varja spun around. Her eyes seemed to glow with an intensity he had never seen before.

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. No. Once in a millennium. We cannot overlook it. It has to be done. You have a duty to the world to further your traits to the next generation. Drink.”

The Mistress thrust her hand out, a fizzing beaker clutched in her long slender fingers. Jarl groaned. This was the reason for him almost having a third leg.

“Now.”

Jarl was unsure if there was power invested in the Mistress’ words, but he downed the contents in one big gulp. It tasted of honey and spirits and the energy soared through his limbs and at once his warrior stood at attention.

“Excellent. First out today are two acolytes that you have not been with before. Do try to be gentle.”

*

“Yes! Yes!”

The girl rode him hard. He looked sideways at the two others that stood in line. He sighed. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good. He just wanted some sleep. At least these were the last for the night. He heard the door open and saw Cyra step inside. Jarl brightened up and grabbed the hips of the girl riding him, thrusting hard into her until he finally climaxed, his seed running into her. Then he pushed her aside and stood up.

“Hello lover,” Cyra said walking up to him and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Jarl said running his hand over her hair. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think you would come tonight.”

“I told you I was coming, so here I am.”

She looked over at the other two girls who sat on the bench by the wall.

“Are those the last?”

Jarl nodded. Mistress Varja had left after bringing the last girls in. He had to finish alone.

“Well. What are you waiting for?” Cyra shot at the girl next in line.

The timid blonde got up.

“On all fours. Here,” Cyra said patting on the table.

The girl obliged and Jarl sank his flesh into her quim.

“I’ll help you out,” Cyra whispered into his ear.

Jarl gasped as her hand grabbed his balls and started caressing them. He felt power flood into him, and it didn’t take twenty thrusts until he filled the girl up. The next one went even faster and after he was done Cyra chased the others out leaving the two of them alone.

“Now I get you for myself,” Cyra said with a wicked smile and climbed on top of him.

She exhaled as she sank herself down onto his still hard shaft. Cyra’s hair was almost orange compared to the Mistress’ and it lit a fire inside him that he hadn’t felt all night. On Mistress Varja’s potion he could couple ten hours straight, but it had its aftereffects. He would be dead to the world for most of the morning. But right now, he didn’t care. Cyra pulled her dress up over her head and threw it off and he admired her slim body. Her breasts bounced as she rode him, and he couldn’t help but grab them and run his fingertips over her nipples. She smiled down at him.

“I’m carrying your child now. I can feel it growing inside me.”

Jarl froze. He knew that was the whole purpose of the nightly exercises but being told so by Cyra still made him cold to the bone.

“I will take good care of it,” Cyra said, grinding her hips against his. “Fill me up again. I want your seed inside me.”

The words broke Jarl’s paralysis and he grabbed her hips.

“Harder,” Cyra hissed.

Jarl spent his last energy thrusting hard into Cyra’s willing wetness. Then he obliged and filled her up to the brim.

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This was chapter 21 of our book An Ode to Uncertainty.

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