True Gift of Man is not death, but an orgy

"Let… thy life… mix with… universal… life… Spare not… the single… drop" I moaned.

Archer said nothing but muffled little grunts. His mouth was full of my cock. 

He was really taking my whole length in. all in. I could feel my other head rubbing on his tonsils.

This was his final exam. As I chanted the aria, I run my Od over a certain part of my Magic Crest, turning my ballsack into a demonic spider's venom sack. 

As my hands reached out to seize his head, I could feel the sensation of his hair between my fingers. The strands were surprisingly soft, each one like a fine silk thread, intertwining and cascading through my grip. As I tightened my hold, the smooth texture of his hair provided a gentle contrast to the firmness of his skull beneath.

With a firm grip, I began to roughly skull fuck him. Hard and fast.

My hips pumped furiously in and out. The heat of his scalp radiated through the tresses, fueling the passion that coursed between us. I breathed in. The scent of our mixed sweat lingered in the air.

Pleasure built like a wave until it crashed into a mind-breaking orgasm. I unloaded the cursed cum directly into his throat. I pushed him away. He fell on his butt, his painfully hard member sticking proudly upwards.

Spider Kiss acted quickly. The semen was the best medium for transferring that particular curse. His body flushed, and all of his muscles trembled from induced lust.

"Should I take it back?" I asked, languidly moving around him. I could smell the sweat and musk, and hear his rapid breathing. His sharp eyes were unfocused, his pupils unnaturally dilated. His usually steady hands were beset by tremors. And beyond mundane senses, I could feel it. The tainted power coursing through him. Spreading. Multiplying.

"No," he said, gritting his teeth, "I can take it."

He was so beautiful, looking so wanton. At the edge of the ruin, he shone like a falling star.

But he was stronger than the curse. By that nameless sense thought which I perceived the supernatural, I could feel it.

Piece by piece. The curse was weakening. Slowly, but surely, he was conquering it.

His steel grey eyes cleared. Naked lust was replaced by unwavering focus. But not completely gone. His member stood proudly at attention. A single drop of a clear precum glistered on his cock's head. 

He gracefully stood up.

I moved closer and ran my hands over his sweaty pecs. It was not just for pleasure. Contact helped me sense the magical energy of the curse. Or rather lack of it. He had managed to eliminate it all.

"You have done it.," I praised him, whispering in his ear, and gently licked it "But can you cast it?"

"Why don't you see for yourself," he said. He grabbed me nape of my neck and pushed me onto my knees. I did not mind. I liked it when things got a bit rough. On either side.

Happily, I licked under his shaft. Slowly from the root to head. I missed that taste. Both of his cock, and what came after.

"Yes…" he moaned. I made an o-shape with my lips and took in his whole length. I breathed the concentrated scent of his musk. "Take it all in…"

I pulled out until my lips were on the head of his cock, and then pushed in until I was ticked by his pubes. Pull. Push.

It did not take more few cycles until he erupted. His whole body shuddered in his first orgasm in more than half a year. 

Cum filled the mouth. I could taste the curse in it. It was spicy. The volume made it hard, but I managed not to spill a single drop of the precious liquid.

Licking my lips I said, "It's a bit weak, but it will do. Are for ready for the next part or would like to rest a little first?"

"Do you need proof of my stamina?" he said with a smile, "I am happy to provide one. Or as many you can take."

"Save it for Jay."

"There is more enough for both of you and more besides."

"I may put that statement to the test later, but first we have another experiment to run. One that is long overdue."

Could hell be defined? In the simplest terms, hell is the absence of God. Such is divine mercy that all who wish to be free of God are granted that desire. And such is divine wrath that all those who abandon God are abandoned by Him in turn.

Does it truly exist? Is it a place filled with the lost and damned, engulfed in fire and brimstone? For my purposes, such details were inconsequential.

It's often said that we create our own hells, and in my case, that statement couldn't be more accurate.

And I was not talking about watching my lover fuck a robot. That was just a kink.

I was quite literally constructing my own personal hell.

A black box, an isolated, multidimensional manifold—a miniature, severed World.

The construction relied on the spell Cat's Cradle.

As I wove the string, each pattern transitioned seamlessly, the allegorical context breathing new meaning into each formation. My fingers danced gracefully, shifting from "Candles" to "Manger," the string taking on a celestial glow, akin to constellations in the night sky.

The next transition unfolded, moving from "Diamonds" to "Eiffel Tower." The string shimmered like precious gems, reflecting the hidden facets of our world, while simultaneously embodying humanity's ambition and desire to reach the heavens.

The intricate dance persisted, as I guided the string through "Jacob's Ladder" and "Witches' Broom." The patterns mirrored the dichotomy between divine aspiration and the mysteries of the unknown. Each transition, each pattern change, wove a narrative that transcended the simplicity of the game, exploring the depths of existence within the confines of the string—an ephemeral cat's cradle suspended in the boundless expanse of multidimensional space.

Simultaneously, it was a formula. Each pattern served as a tensor, and each transition represented a transformation. Allegory and operation intertwined—story and calculation, poetry and mathematics.

I pushed myself to the limit of my abilities, merging two distinct streams of thought. One structured, one fluid. One explicit, one ambiguous. Like yin and yang, these elements danced together, a delicate balance between the analytical and the imaginative.

Like twinned spirals forming a helix.

In the working, I incorporated all the lessons I had learned while traversing various worlds.

The foundation was magecraft. Those who sought the Origin, including my lineage, had long found ways to hide from the Counter Force. Some more effective than others.

My own method stemmed from the particular brand of diabolism we practised. If one were to build a temple using demons as a workforce, it would be best not to do it under the gaze of God. Not all of us were as blessed as Solomon was.

On top of that, I built with the secrets of the Second True Magic. Of those, I would not speak.

Further, I incorporated lessons learned while hunting the devil. In that world, scripture said the devil was a mere shadow cast by God's light. In that sense, hell could be thought of as the shadow that God's Kingdom cast.

The desolation of Mordor and other works of Morgoth and those who followed him showed me further paths to perdition.

And there were lessons learned from my previous use of that spell, the fake Holy Grail War. Well, a more of a duel really.

And, finally, the invaluable knowledge from Hawkins and Missing Mile. And eldritch realms attached to them.

Methodically, I severed each connection until all of existence was confined to a three-meter cubic box.

Upon completion of the spell, the backlash struck me with immense force. It was as if someone was marching a division on the soft tissue of my brain. With hot, spiked iron boots.

Thankfully, Blood Slime ensured my blood remained where it belonged—within my veins, rather than pooling on the floor.

Without delay, Archer appeared at my side, offering me a chocolate bar. "Eat."

Aurum Vivum, infused within chocolate, spread through my body like a healing warmth. My headache abated.

Having had more time to research it, I discovered additional properties of this intriguing substance. I determined that it was neither the Imaginary Fifth Element nor the True Fifth Element. It lacked the proper reaction to the Divine material I possessed. Primarily composed of raw spiritons, that alone didn't reveal much.

In its inert state, it appeared as a glowing golden liquid that would slowly evaporate. Neither high nor low temperatures affected the rate of evaporation, nor did they change Aurum Vivum's properties.

Unlike magical energy, it couldn't be easily imbued in gems. However, that might simply be due to its inert state being incompatible with magecraft.

On the other hand, Aurum Vivum readily bonded with organic chemicals. It particularly bonded well with theobromine, an alkaloid found in the cacao plant, from which chocolate is derived.

It had a remarkable effect on living organisms. The massive healing effect seemed to scale with the complexity of the organism. The host was generally healed of parasites and diseases, even if both were affected by Aurum Vivum. It wasn't just an acceleration of the normal healing process but rather a transformation into an ideal, healthy form.

It also seemed to accelerate evolution, but due to the limited timeframe, I could only observe this with bacteria.

Still, this was merely scratching the surface of the mystery. It would be the work of years, perhaps even decades, to unravel it fully.

"Thank you. I needed that."

"Really, did you have to push it to the extreme?" Archer asked, his steel-coloured eyes locked on me. Those pretty eyes were the only constant between his forms.

"Ah, naturally, because going 'just far enough' is the key to every successful endeavour," I replied with a hint of sarcasm. It might be the lowest form of wit, but I'm rather fond of it. "Just because it's in the nature of a Magus to walk hand-in-hand with death, it doesn't mean one should neglect precautions. On the contrary, death isn't a fan of being teased."

"The inner workings of a Magus's mind truly remain a mystery to me," Archer snarked. "But I have to wonder, if one invokes the Counter Force by trying to avoid the Counter Force, can it really be considered a success?"

"First, we don't know if there is a Counter Force or an equivalent in this world," I started to explain.

But Archer interrupted me with a question. "Then why did you bother with such complex measures against it?"

"Because countering it was not the primary purpose of this black box. It was designed to stretch the time I could spend observing both the experiment and control. With a universe that has only three observers, I should be able to observe numerous iterations. We don't know if something like the Counter Force exists. That's why I cast the spell in the Otherworld, to access a great quantity and quality of mana."

There was something I wouldn't say or acknowledge. If the experiment turned out to be lethal to him, there was a better chance of managing a resurrection in a space like this. To say that aloud would be to confess that I wasn't as certain in my conclusions as I pretended to be. If he hadn't insisted on replacing me as the test subject, I would have been reckless indeed.

I paused for a moment, then added jokingly, "Besides, adultery is a sin. It should be hidden from the sight of God."

"Since you plan to watch, it's not adultery," he added with a wry smirk, "Technically, it should be called cuckoldry."

"Are you ready, Jay?" I asked the last participant.

Jay remained silent until addressed, typical of Aperture Personal Service Androids.

"Ready and eager," he replied cheerfully, a lustful grin playing on his perfectly designed features. "Use me however you like, master. It will be my pleasure."

"Then, for the last time, let's go over the plan of action. All of the observational Mystic Codes are ready for use. I will first initialize the Multi-instance Refraction Phenomena. One instance will be chosen as a control, in which you will do nothing. In the other, I will order the test to begin. As I will be the only one capable of observing all instances, it is crucial that you follow my orders without question."

"I always obey without question, master," Jay affirmed, his voice a purr of devotion. The well-programmed Aperture Personal Service Android tilted his head slightly, maintaining an enticing, attentive gaze. His body language was open, submissive, always ready to anticipate and meet any potential desire. A soft sigh slipped from his lips, as if even the act of obedience was its own kind of reward. His eyes glowed with a persistent need, a constant craving for approval and direction. Despite his perfect, mechanical precision, there was an undercurrent of intense yearning that made him seem all the more human.

Archer's gaze swept over the android, a cocktail of vexation and desire brewing in his depths. It wasn't the first time he'd felt the sting of jealousy, but it was a rare enough occurrence to give him pause. Jay's submissiveness, his overbearing neediness, was a stark contrast to Archer's own defiant compliance. It should have been off-putting, and yet...

Yet, there was something about the android's eagerness, his absolute deference to me, that ignited a spark of lust within Archer. It was as if a dormant part of him responded to the sight of another being calling me 'master', the title he had claimed for himself alone for so long. The raw desire in Jay's voice, the sultry promise in his eyes, was a direct challenge to Archer's claim on me.

The corners of Archer's mouth tugged downward in a scowl, but his steel-cored eyes shimmered with a fiery intensity, betraying his inner turmoil. It was a battle between the green-eyed monster of jealousy and the red-hot flame of lust. For decades, he and I had been intimate, our bond forged in countless battles and shared experiences. And yet, here he was, wrestling with the unexpected surge of envy and desire, sparked by the sight of an android flirting with me.

For a moment, his hand twitched at his side, a silent declaration of his claim, of the bond we shared. But he remained silent, his gaze locked with mine, his emotions playing out in the depths of his eyes.

"Let's get on with it," he finally managed to say, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions I knew was swirling within him.

It was promising for what was to come. Not strictly necessary, but it would make it a better show.

Closing my eyes, I chanted a brief aria, the words resonating with the power that coursed through my Magic Circuits. "Shatter: Ophanim," was the final phrase, the one that would initiate the spell.

Closing my eyes as a man, reopening them as an angel.

Closing my eyes, two windows to the world were sealed; upon opening, a multitude unfolded.

And yet, what I saw through many eyes remained the same. Archer and Jay stood almost nude side by side, their forms a study in contrasts. Archer, the tall, well-muscled human, exuded a raw, primal energy. Jay, on the other hand, was a short, slender android, his body a testament to the wonders of technology. Their stark differences only enhanced the beauty of the tableau before me.

But this wasn't just for pleasure, it was for knowledge. If the experiment confirmed my hypothesis, new doors would open. Some of those doors, admittedly, would lead to quite carnal territories.

In one instance, I declared, "This is the control. We simply wait."

In all other instances, I issued the command, "We can start now. Jay, take your position."

Immediately, the situation began to diverge. The first branching point had occurred, and the pressure to make a selection escalated. The consumption of Od increased accordingly, and each subsequent branching would only heighten this effect. However, my hypothesis had proven correct - completely isolating instances from the rest of the universe significantly reduced the cost of the spell.

I diverted most of my focus from the control. Where events were unfolding was much more intriguing.

Following my command, Jay obediently assumed his position, dropping to his hands and knees, presenting his bare behind for Archer's use. He impatiently wiggled it in invitation. 

I promptly moved to my designated station behind the Mystic Code. This intriguing device bore a startling resemblance to a movie studio camera, its foundation consisting of a sturdy tripod and an expansive lens, seemingly designed to capture more than just the visible spectrum. Its sleek, black body was adorned with arcane embellishments - spiraling symbols etched into its surface, threads of gold and silver forming an intricate web of mystical conduits, and an array of tiny gemstones glowing with an otherworldly luminescence. It was a striking blend of technology and sorcery, appearing as harmonious as it was peculiar. Amused by this unexpected parallel, I couldn't resist calling out, "And action!"

"Are we running an experiment or shooting a porno?" Archer inquired. His words held a biting edge, yet his tone was undeniably laced with amusement.

"Less talking, more fucking."

Through the lens of the arcane camera, Archer's grin conveyed a swirling vortex of his emotions: lust, anticipation, jealousy, amusement, and more. However, this device was designed to capture spiritons, the very essence of the soul itself. Consequently, the body paint, the only barrier between his skin and the world, transformed into glistening rivers of power.

This was precisely its purpose. I had crafted that body paint from crushed, mana-infused gems, mixed with the fat of a Phantasmal Beast. It served to highlight the flow of Od within his body, an ethereal roadmap that traced the currents of magical energy coursing through him.

Even Jay underwent a transformation. Everything, even inanimate objects, had spiritons attached to them - a fundamental concept behind psychometry. It was harder to discern, but there was an added dimension to Jay. The cloud of spiritons surrounding his artificial body held a complexity almost akin to a human's. It was different, harder to see, but the spiritons reacted to his programmed emotions in ways eerily similar to a human's.

All the traits seemed to be there: unquestioning obedience, the joy found in submission, a boundless love, and an endless hunger for approval lurking just beneath the surface. There was also something almost akin to Od. It was too faint to see directly; I could only infer its existence from the shadow it cast. Not a life force, but perhaps an animating force? It left me wondering if I was merely attributing significance to random patterns or if I was indeed witnessing something profound. Or could also be the consequences of Jay's absorption into the Otherworld? It may have changed him, in strange ways.

With a grunt, Archer thrust into Jay. Foreplay was unnecessary; the android's anus was designed for ease of penetration. In fact, its function was purely sexual, serving little other purpose. Jay took in the entirety of Archer's length in one smooth motion, letting out a satisfied moan.

Archer reached out and grasped the iron collar that encircled Jay's neck - the sole piece of attire the android was currently wearing. He pulled it back, causing Jay to mimic the reaction of being erotically choked despite his lack of need for oxygen.

Archer began to move with a fervour that bordered on possession, his rhythm rapid and relentless. Unlike Jay, I had no attention to spare to appreciate his technique. My focus was on observing their coupling from a higher, more conceptual level.

The collar Jay wore presented a slight issue. It was a Mystic Code I had crafted myself, its singular purpose being to cast a glamour over Jay and the other androids, hiding their eldritch nature. I wanted the children on Io to be able to interact with the androids without being drawn into fascination and nightmares.

However, the glamour made recording Jay's spiritons slightly more challenging. Not that it mattered much, as the primary focus of this experiment was Archer. His spiritons were the ones I sought to track and study. Or rather the effect of sex outside the Elven marriage.

Metaphors typically used to describe an orgasm often draw from the forces of nature – crashing waves, striking lightning, and explosive eruptions. Witnessing the wild dance of flashing colours through the occult lens of the Mystic Code, I could understand why these comparisons were made. The myriad of hues and the intricate patterns they weaved mirrored the chaos and intensity of a climax. Although this wasn't my first time observing such a spectacle, the advanced observational Mystic Code offered a depth of detail I hadn't experienced before.

The first assumption I had made was only partially correct. Using an android in this experiment wasn't significantly safer for Archer than using a human. At least, not when that android was as complex as Jay. I could only hope that my second assumption would prove more accurate - that engaging in extramarital sex in his human form wouldn't prove lethal once he resumed his Eldar form.

Determining a safe margin of elapsed time between extramarital copulation and a form shift was another facet of this experiment. To this end, I branched the instances again.

In one instance, I commanded, "Now, shift into your elf form."

In all the others, I remained silent. The plan in these instances was to wait about five minutes before branching again and repeating this directive in each new instance. This process would be repeated until Archer could successfully transition into his elf form without any severe repercussions, such as total body rejection.

Even with this advanced Mystic Code, the transformation process remained an enigma. I surmised that I would need a significantly more sophisticated tool to capture that phenomenon in its entirety. One moment, Archer was a tall, muscular human, and the next, he was a slender, even taller Elf. His handsome masculine face morphed into an inhumanly beautiful androgynous visage. His hair turned a vibrant red, as if freshly spilt blood, and every imperfection along with body hair was erased.

On the astral level, his connection between body and soul was much stronger in this form. It was akin to replacing a muddy path through the woods with a superhighway. I theorized this was the origin of the problem. The more sensitive connection, the foreign spiritual matter induced during copulation - the kernel of a potential new soul - would trigger a lethal allergic reaction. Elven marriage was less of a ceremony and more of a biological imprinting that allowed for procreation within such a spiritually based immune system. Now, I could understand why Finwe required the intervention of the Valar for his second marriage in the lore. It was less a matter of law, and more a necessary medical procedure.

I steeled myself for the unpleasant task that lay ahead - watching this instance of Archer perish. Due to the peculiar nature of my spell, I would be the sole witness to this tragedy. How many iterations would it take, I wondered. How many times would I have to watch him fall before I found that elusive safe time?

Except...

Nothing happened. He was completely hale and healthy.

I quickly glanced through the Mystic Code. There was no adverse reaction. His flow of Od remained consistent, perfectly normal for his new form.

"I don't feel anything wrong with me," Archer voiced out, his tone laced with a hint of uncertainty. "Should we wait some more?"

"No," I responded, my mind already whirling with the implications of what had just occurred. "In any recorded instance, the rejection of the body is immediate."

With that, I dismissed all other instances. There was no longer any point in maintaining the spell, the branching realities collapsing back into one.

Once again, I was merely a man, bound to a singular chain of moments, a slave to the inexorable march of cause and effect.

"Although the timeframe is shorter than expected, my hypothesis appears correct. The elven weakness does not carry over to the human form," I mused, quite satisfied with the outcome of the experiment. There was a wealth of data I had acquired.

My magecraft research had significantly advanced. I contemplated converting some of my Magic Circuits into an addition to my Magic Crest. There were spells and data that I should add to it. Not that I had any plans yet to cease researching or to prepare for training a successor. The elven form alone guaranteed my indefinite lifespan, not to mention access to Aurum Vivum.

Archer's arms crossed over his chest, his mouth curving into a smirk that couldn't quite hide a flicker of jealousy in his gaze. "And what do you plan to do with this knowledge?" he asked, his tone edged with a playful sarcasm that belied his curiosity. "Play with your dolls?"

I chuckled, a mischievous glint catching in my eye. "I think 'action figures' would be more apt. They even come with batteries," I quipped, my tone light, deliberately prodding at his barely concealed envy. "Besides, we can play together. Tell me, Jay," I turned my attention to the silent figure beside us, "would you like to be spit-roasted?"

At the mention of his name, Jay's synthetic eyes lit up, his body leaning in towards us in a sign of rapt attention. A flush of warmth spread across his artificial skin, contrasting with the cool, expectant look in his eyes. "Nothing would please me more," he murmured, the quiet fervor in his voice belying his submissive posture and revealing a readiness to surrender to his programed desires.