A Master of the Tenth Order

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A Master of the Tenth Order, Chapter 10 By ThePhallocrat - thephallocrat@gmail.com

The sound of knocking on Benedict's door, loud and fast and anxious, did not improve Claudio's already troubled mood. Holding a cup of their customary tea in trembling fingers, the young man was carefully considering how best to explain to his teacher an odd experience he'd had earlier that morning, one that had left him confused and conflicted. The sudden intrusion of the sound of knocking was a jarring and panic-inducing distraction, for it was rare, almost never, that anybody would interrupt a private session between master and pupil. Such meetings were considered sacred in Commune tradition. The insistence of the knocking suggested, however, that the matter could not wait.

"One moment, Claudio," Benedict said, rising. He was trying to sound calm and reassuring, but it was clear enough that he was as surprised by the intrusion as Claudio was.

On the other side of the door were three acolytes, four or five years younger than Claudio, looking pale and shaken. They muttered something in low and nervous tones that Claudio could not quite make out, their feet shifting and faces often searching the floor.

"I will come at once," Benedict said, much more loudly. "I want you three to find Master Paelomon, as quick as you can. Tell him what you've told me. But by no means are you to return the green. Do you understand?"

When the youths had gone, Benedict quickly removed the lounging robe he wore for comfort in his own quarters. Claudio's mind was ill at ease, but he was enough himself to appreciate the sight of his teacher undressed to the waist, his lithe body peppered with pockets of masculine hair, while the older man switched into his more formal magicker's robes. Though he'd seen his teacher naked many times, it was impossible to see Benedict's body without feeling something stir, and not simple sexual desire either, though there was plenty of that. Benedict was teacher, brother, father, and friend, all at once. But, further, he was a model; he gave Claudio a vision of what he himself might be like one day, what he aspired to be. He wanted to touch Benedict's body, of course, but even more he wanted in some odd way to inhabit it, to become his teacher in some tangible but illogical way. The longing was more complex than what he felt when looked at, say, Luca, for example, where the remedy for the desire was clear, direct, and actionable. More and more actionable as the weeks of training went by and his confidence grew. It was unclear that any sexual act could ever quite address the depth of longing and love that Claudio felt for his teacher.

"Come along, Claudio," Benedict said, stamping his feet into his boots, and noticing his pupil's distraction in thought, "There's trouble afoot and we must face it, I'm afraid."

"We?" Claudio froze in confusion.

"You are now of the Seven Order, and will ascend to the Eighth soon enough, magicker," Benedict said, using kind tones but still serious and severe. Claudio blushed with surprised pleasure; he had not realized his teacher foresaw his ascension to the Eighth as something that would be happening so soon. "You will then be a junior master. The task of protecting our community will fall just as much on you as on me. Come along, now is not the time for questioning yourself. Like the moment of seizing the unknown in magick ritual, you must marry thought and action in equal measure, letting neither overtake the other."

Taking a deep breath, Claudio nodded and stood. "I'm ready," he said, though he didn't feel ready at all. Especially since he still had no idea what was going on.

"Good lad," Benedict said, opening the door and gesturing for Claudio to proceed, "We shall return to this conversation and whatever is troubling you as soon as we can. I swear it. But our first duty is to our Commune."

"Of course," Claudio assured him gravely. In truth, though he feared the trouble they went to face, Claudio was a little relieved for a respite from having to articulate his thoughts on what had happened that morning with Paulo.

Paulo was an acolyte a couple years younger than Claudio who had something of a reputation for trouble and for being by far the most sexually focused of the boys around their age. He'd taken up masturbation earlier than most, and more publicly, and generally seemed to bring every conversation around to the subject of sex even when the jump in topic was totally unnatural. He'd taken an early interest in the girls their age, making bold advances and even on at least a few occasions being caught rummaging through their underwear. His flirtations had even extended to female Instructors on more than one occasion. There'd been times back in the acolyte dorms when it had felt like Paulo was being sent to the instructors daily for reprimanding because of crossing some line or other.

He was, therefore, basically the opposite from Claudio in every way, especially back then. His overt and overly confident sexual energy had made young Claudio uncomfortable, and he had avoided the boy more often than not; fortunately, it had seemed like Claudio himself was invisible to the randy Paulo, who only had eyes for girls he wanted to touch or boys whose approval he craved, mostly the ones well-liked by the girls. The most interaction the two had ever had was during a brief period when Paulo had gotten it in his head that becoming friends with the popular and handsome Johan would raise his own status and had tried everything he could to get Johan's attention and comradeship. Claudio had felt like Paulo saw him as an opponent in that game and one he could easily muscle out of Johan's affection and replace, but he was sorely mistaken. Paulo had been enough younger than the two friends, and had enough of a reputation, to prevent Johan from taking him at all seriously, and Paulo abandoned the effort with obvious annoyance after only a few weeks.

Since moving on from the dorms and especially since moving into his own accelerated private instruction, Claudio had barely seen or even thought of Paulo for some years. One morning, a month or so prior to the troubling incident, Claudio had been stunned to see Paulo during one of his trips to the baths engaged in intercourse with another male acolyte. It had been late, far later than Claudio usually bathed, due to a long shift assisting Master Portia with healing. It was more likely for sexual activity to take place in the communal bathing areas during the less busy times, when the coupling would not get in the way of other magicker's using them for their main function, so at first it was not terribly surprising to see two male acolytes enjoying each other there. One was standing under the water, moaning with his head tilted back into the flow, while the other was on his knees pleasuring him aggressively with his mouth. It was only when the kneeling young man came up for air, and stood to kiss his partner, that Claudio recognized Paulo with a jolt of surprise.

The past few years had brought Paulo through the full flowering of puberty, and he was properly a man now. He wore his hair longer these days, almost as long as Luca, and his penis was far, far, larger than Claudio remembered -- he'd seen it often enough, what with how often Paulo had roamed the acolyte's halls naked and masturbating in every nook and cranny. It was not surprising to see him engaged in sexual activity, therefore, for that was simply Paulo being Paulo, but Claudio had never before seen any indication that he was interested in sex with men as well as with women. But, he reflected as he took his own shower, trying to ignore the two lovers, Paulo was so well known to love sex generally that it should not be too surprising that he enjoyed every possible flavor. Still, Claudio had to stifle a laugh of outright shock when, as he left a few moments later, he saw Paulo bent over and receiving the other magicker's cock up his backside while moaning wildly.

Maybe a week or so later, Claudio had seen Johan while crossing the Commune's green and they'd stopped to catch up, and Claudio had awkwardly but with some amused pleasure related the incident to his old friend.

"I shouldn't be surprised!" Johan said, laughing as much as Claudio had hoped he would, "Paulo was always game for just about anything, as I remember it. Just glad he's not still harassing uninterested female magickers."

"Who says he's not? I can well imagine he went and did so directly after receiving that male magicker's seed," Claudio had said, then beamed when it made his friend laugh. He was still new to discussing sex much more frankly with Johan, showing off his progress in his own confidence, testing how far the conversation could get without being awkward. He was pleased he had judged it correctly in this case.

"They say, sometimes, that children of the Stars, those who like both men and women, are only that way because they are too horny to contain themselves to just one flavor," Johan had said, thoughtfully, "I don't think that's fair. And is frankly kind of mean. But... maybe just for Paulo specifically, it's accurate."

The two had enjoyed a laugh about it, but not an unkind one, for Paulo was alright despite his fixations and anyway he was still a brother magicker at the end of the day. And then Claudio had gone about his life and promptly forgot the whole thing. That is, until that very morning when he had once again encountered Paulo in the showers, this time just the two of them alone.

He was remembering that experience in vivid detail when he and Benedict arrived at the green and Claudio got his first glimpse at what had so upset the younger acolytes. A crowd of around fifty or sixty outsiders had gathered on the green and were causing quite a commotion of activity. Claudio had never seen so many non-magickers within the Commune at once, so their presence was shocking enough, but their behavior was far more so. Some were shouting, like the preacher who had visited the commune once before, while others accosted passing magickers and engaged them in intense private conversation. Still others were setting up tents, tables, campfires, with a clear intent to stay put for some time. And, as Claudio both expected and dreaded, their clothes, tents, and various accoutrement were one and all decorated with the two-faced icon of the Double God.

Benedict marched his way directly to a particular man in the crowd, correctly judging him to be a leader or well-respected member of the group. Later, Claudio would wonder how Benedict had so quickly picked the man out from the mass of protestors, and would decide it was something to do with both the man's general bearing and the way the others behaved with deference around him. By the time they were in conversation with him, Claudio had noticed those signs, but he marveled at how quickly his teacher had assessed the dynamics of the situation.

"We have every right to be here," the man said firmly, before Benedict had even said a word. "You can't kick us out."

"I have not come to `kick you out', as you put it," Benedict said, forcing a smile, "But to ask you very kindly to keep your voices down."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Naturally, I would," Benedict replied, refusing to match the man's confrontational tone, "As would you if I came to where you live and caused a commotion. This is our home. You are welcome here, as all are, but we must ask you to be more respectful."

"You can't tell us what to do," the man continued, gruffly, "We are here with full permission. You have no legal standing to say otherwise."

"I haven't challenged your legal right to be here," Benedict protested, "I have challenged your manners. We have no quarrel with you."

"Be that as it may, but we have quarrel with you. If you think nice words will change that, you are wrong." The man pulled an official looking document out of his coat pocket and waved it in Benedict's face. "An official permit from a member of the Prince's Council, giving us full legal permission to demonstrate and protest and attempt to save these children."

Claudio felt his stomach flip. The man was moving the document too quickly for him to make out the details of the seal of authority that took up the bottom third of the paper, but he could guess it well enough. The Grand Marshal.

"Save them from what? Their home? Their family?"

"You know damn well what, pervert!" The man said in disgust, then spat at Benedict's feet.

Around then, a strange feeling came over Claudio. The sounds of the protestors faded into a muted roar, and Claudio's eyes glazed over as he stared in the middle distance. Every muscle seemed to tense and freeze, no longer under his control. He felt dizzy, numb; he felt the otherworldly and almost magickal sensation of trying desperately, by instinct, to feel nothing at all. Benedict and the gruff man kept arguing, but Claudio could no longer follow the words. He could only blink at his surroundings, unable to keep from seeing strange little details and fixating on them. A frothy bit of spittle on the corner of the gruff man's mouth. The wrinkle of a nose on the sneer of the elderly lady next to him. A fly that kept flitting about Benedict's ear. The furrowed brow of a boy a few feet away, staring at him with open hatred.

A wave of shock disrupted the strange, forced calm that Claudio had been lost in as he realized he recognized that boy. He had seen him before. Had his brain been working properly, he would have known where he'd see him before in an instant, but as it was it took a long moment before he could summon the memory. At last he had it. It had been in the infirmary, on a shift assisting Master Portia. The boy was from the nearby village, an outsider, and had been brought to the Commune for healing. He had been suffering from some kind of fever. Claudio suddenly remembered how much his mother had been weeping, terrified of losing her boy. At Portia's direction, Claudio had led the ritual that had soothed and healed the lad, nudging his body toward the path of health. How grateful both had been. How relieved. How proud Claudio had felt at his work and being able to help somebody who needed it.

Now here was the boy and his mother both, not two months later, proclaiming their open disdain and disgust for the magickers who had saved the little one's life.

First there was shock. Pure confusion. It could not be the same people, it simply could not be.

Then came the search for some explanation, something rational. They could not be here of their own free will. There had to be some misunderstanding. Perhaps it was not the same boy and he was mistaken. Anything to make the world make sense again.

One by one those possible explanations were cast aside. And then came the hurt, the pain, the feeling of betrayal. We helped you. We asked nothing in return. We saved your son's life.

And then, at last, the anger. Like a roaring bonfire. The fury welled up in him so strong and so quickly that he did not at first realize that he had filled up with magick too, a great roaring cascade of it; more magick than he had ever called upon outside of the higher rituals. And it was done without thought, gesture, incantation, or ritual of any kind. The outsiders had not noticed anything was amiss, since Claudio had not moved a muscle or betrayed any outward sign, but Benedict stopped his debate mid-sentence to whirl about and face his young pupil with wide eyes, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking to get his full attention.

"Claudio," he said sharply, "Stand down. Let it go."

The magick longed to be let free, and Claudio's anger longed to shape it into a stinging rebuke that the gruff man, the hypocritical mother, and the ungrateful boy would not soon forget, the right incantations and inclinations of the fingers just there on the edge of action. He could, he knew suddenly, obliterate them. Tear every tiny bit of them apart. In all his life he had never felt so powerful. And it would be so easy...

"Claudio!" Benedict said again, nearly shouting. He looked genuinely terrified. A magickal slap resounded against the young magicker's cheek, an old familiar reprimand that the teacher had not used in many years.

It did not still Claudio's anger, but it rekindled his sanity. He locked eyes with his teacher, eyes that were suddenly wide with fear and realization of what he had nearly done, and slowly, through several deep breaths held and then slowly released, he relinquished the magick he'd summoned, letting it dissipate harmlessly into the air and ground as he had practiced with Benedict many times.

"I'm sorry," Claudio managed to stutter out, when the danger was past and at last he had control of himself, "I just--"

"Come, let's leave this place," Benedict said, guiding his student by the shoulders. Only then did Claudio see that other Masters had arrived to continue the discussion with the leaders of the protesting band, including Paelomon. "Come along, Claudio. Let's return to our tea." He spoke in a soft and soothing tone, quite a contrast to the jeers and taunts surrounding them.

"I'm so sorry," Claudio said again, when they were some space away from the commotion.

"Do not apologize," his teacher replied, arm still around Claudio and rubbing his arm, "I am very proud of you, my boy."

"You must be joking," Claudio, quite shaken, managed to reply. He was replaying over and over that moment when he'd almost killed those people, horrified at himself.

"You showed true mastery, and it's not a joke. That was a significant amount of magick you summoned. More than I could muster, I will tell you. Far more. You had me shaking in my boots, boy! That you were able to regain control and not lash out with instinct under the weight of that much magick shows impressive skill -- and character. You have learned control, as was our goal since your last incident. I am sorry that it was so put to the test today, but happy to see our efforts have paid off."

"What will we do about them?"

Benedict sighed, troubled. "Let the other Masters handle it now. We'll figure something out. Tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Fine. Just tired."

"Naturally. But is that all?"

Claudio realized there was more to say, if he was going to be totally honest, and his teacher must know that perfectly well. "I feel disgusting. Or... invisible? Like I don't matter. Like I'm nothing."

"Hmm," Benedict grunted in approval, "A good description. It is precisely how those people wanted us to feel. Despite caring nothing for what they think of us, I feel the same. It's quite powerful, their scorn. Almost like magick of its own."

The young magicker hesitated. "It's not the first time today I've felt that way either. But... well, obviously this was worse. And it wasn't quite the same thing, but... in a way it was."

"Tell me more," Benedict encouraged, seeming eager to change the subject, "What happened today?"

So, shaking and afraid, Claudio related the whole story.

Claudio had not heard Paulo enter, and had thought he was totally alone in the showers. It had been nearly a week since his last training session with Luca, and he had been so busy with his studies since, but it had only been standing naked under the hot water of the showers that he realized how sexually pent up he was. It was not his normal habit to masturbate in the communal showering area, but this one time he had decided to make an exception and quickly work up an orgasm so that he could go about his day without the distraction of that desire.

Midway through his efforts he had realized he was not alone, and that two showers over another boy was also masturbating. He glanced up to see that it was Paulo, licking his lips and casting longing looks at Claudio's erection. When they made eye contact, impish Paulo had smirked, raising one eyebrow inquisitively in invitation. Had he made this proposal before Claudio had started pleasuring himself, Claudio was certain he would never have agreed. But he was a good way towards orgasm now and feeling bold and eager. He nodded. Why not? It was probably time he started having experiences beyond just those with Luca, he felt more confident in his ability to keep control, and the one thing you could say for certain about Paulo was that he was more than willing. Another thing you could say about him was that he was not unattractive. So... why not?

"Why not, indeed," Benedict commented, but with a tone that suggested he knew where this was going.

The younger man all but rushed to Claudio's side, kneeling to take his member into his mouth. Claudio gasped and then moaned, enjoying it. At least at first. Relying on his instincts honed in practice with Luca, he had attempted to enjoy the present moment and truly see Paulo with an open mind. He even had reached out tentatively, instinctively, to form a magickal link.

The link was ignored. It was all but shoved aside. And Paulo barely looked at Claudio with his eyes, let alone with his magickal senses. His efforts on Claudio's cock were extremely enthusiastic, almost too much so, like he was being driven by a mad hunger and was on the verge of death if he did not immediately swallow Claudio's seed. Paulo moaned and slobbered, and worked his own penis furiously, but something about the movements and noises felt... well, fake? Disingenuous. Forced, certainly. Claudio suddenly understood how Luca had always known whenever he faked or forced his responses in their first sessions. It did not have the mark of authenticity which, once you've tasted it, you can recognize very well.

It was not arousing. In a strange way, it made Claudio sick to his stomach, despite the actual physical sensations being as pleasant as always.

Paulo, however, seemed totally unaware of Claudio's distraction and waning interest. Instead, the younger boy simply proceeded to behave as if things were building quite passionately between them, as if this was the best and wildest sex of his life. And this made the disconnect worse, escalating Claudio's disquiet rapidly. Because he realized that Paulo wasn't seeing him at all. In a way, Claudio wasn't really even a participant in Paulo's experience. And being used in that way was so uncomfortable to Claudio that he felt his erection beginning to diminish.

"That's when things got ugly," Claudio said. They'd made it back to Benedict's quarters now, and Claudio was shaking both from reliving the experience with Paulo and because he was still processing the confrontation with the religious zealots on the green. Benedict put a comforting blanket around his shoulders and poured him another cup of tea, encouraging him to continue.

Paulo had been visibly annoyed that Claudio was beginning to go soft. For the first time he looked up at his face, but with an accusatory glare.

"What's wrong?" the boy had spat out, "Do you not like me?"

Claudio had been mortified, but had no idea how to explain. "No, you're very handsome!" he sputtered, placatingly, then decided to blame himself. "Sorry, I'm just shy. I haven't had many partners, you know."

This explanation seemed to mollify Paulo somewhat, though he seemed surprised by Claudio's relative inexperience. He stood and moved briskly, like he was eager to get the encounter going again. "I know what will do it," he said, walking to the wall and leaning against it. This position made his buttocks part, revealing his hole. Paulo wasn't even looking back at Claudio as he presented his entrance to him, but it was obvious he was eager to be entered and used.

Claudio stared at it. The smooth opening was as beautiful and inviting as Luca's, in its way, and he found his cock did lurch back to life again imagining penetrating Paulo there. It was a sex act he still had not done, but had longed for more and more as he became more familiar with Luca's anus during finger and tongue play and as his sexual confidence was growing generally. A part of him wanted desperately to take the two simple steps forward to thrust himself into Paulo's willing hole and finally know what entering a man felt like. Just like when he'd hovered on the edge of wielding magick against the protestors, Claudio hovered on the edge attacking Paulo with his erection.

And in the end, it was probably only Paulo's impatience that stopped him. "Well," the boy had said, rudely, "What are you waiting for?" Again, he sounded annoyed, like Claudio was doing everything wrong.

"So I just left," Claudio said to Benedict. "I just walked out."

"I see," Benedict said, voice carefully neutral. "And how did Paulo respond?"

"Not well. He called several unpleasant things out at me." Claudio shuddered despite himself at the memory of how ugly it had been, how awkward.

The teacher growled then, deep in the back of his throat, a sound of annoyance and anger that Claudio had never heard from the normally placid man. It had a paternal, protective sound to it. Benedict was angry on Claudio's behalf, and the young man discovered that he found that fact very gratifying.

"That one is constantly an issue," Benedict said, "This kind of thing has happened again and again. Between you and me, Claudio, I do not think Paulo will ever begin instruction in the higher orders. He seems determined to remain a lesser magicker."

"He hasn't begun sex magick training?" Claudio blurted out, shocked, "Paulo??"

"Oh, he has asked to start that training, and many times. Has asked basically every master in the Commune. All have refused him, including myself."

"But why?"

Benedict put his hands into his thoughtful instructor position. "You shall be a master soon, so can you tell me why? Why, do you think, we have all turned him down?"

Claudio stopped to think for a little bit, then began to think out loud: "He craves sex very badly. He does not seem like he ever has feared it, like I once did."

Benedict nodded, motioning him to continue.

"He barely looked at me during our encounter. I am not even sure that he remembers my name or anything about me. His desire had nothing to do with me, really." Claudio thought about magick, about when he'd touched the higher mysteries, by himself and with Luca when the practice sessions with him had gone well, and imagined Paulo trying to take part in something like that. He could not. "He seeks pleasure for its own sake," Claudio said at last, "For him, sex is not a way to know himself, let alone others. Rather, it seems to be a way to hide from self knowledge. To run away. Certainly the... intensity of his desire suggests more than physical need alone. And leaves no room for curiosity or... presence of being."

Benedict beamed with pride. "I had worried, on occasion, that we were rushing you to the higher orders and ranks of master too quickly, that despite your strength in magick you were not yet ready for that role, that it was too much to ask of you," the older man laughed, then leaned forward to cup his pupil's cheek with affection. "Please forgive my weakness, that I ever doubted you."

Claudio blushed, heart pounded, crotch stirring. He had a strong desire to lean forward and kiss his master, and knew that Benedict, so finely attuned to him now by magick and habit, could tell. He also knew that Benedict could sense Claudio restraining himself with discipline and patience and would be pleased at that control. It added a strange tension to the moment, but not an unpleasant one.

At length, Benedict released his hand from his pupil's face and leaned back again. "You show the wisdom and perception of a master," he said, taking up his tea, "Now, answer me this: you said before that the feeling you had during the encounter with Paulo was not unlike the feeling you had when we faced our unpleasant visitors. Why, do you suppose, should that be? They were quite different encounters, were they not?"

Claudio nodded grimly. He'd been wondering about that too, trying to make the connection. He thought he was starting to understand. "In both situations, I felt unseen. Made... other. Denied humanity. If that makes sense?"

"Perfectly," Benedict confirmed, "In both you were denied human connection, and it is in human connection that the higher magick lies. You are now so steeped in the studies of the higher arts, that it is no doubt shocking to encounter such coldness, such strong walls erected between you and others. It discomfited me as well."

Claudio felt satisfaction at understanding the situation and his feelings better, but he was still anxious. "Master, what are we going to do about them?"

Benedict finished the last of the tea in his cup and then glanced towards the door. "Well, Master Paelomon will no doubt have some thoughts on the matter. He will be here in a few moments."

Claudio's eyebrows rose and he looked back and forth between Benedict and the door. "How... how do you know? I sensed no magickal message or energy."

"The magick is innate between us now, so often have we linked," the teacher explained. "You are forming such a bond with Luca now, you know. I bet you can guess where he is right now, if you thought about it for a moment. Remember what it feels like to link with him during sex magick, his distinct energy."

Claudio had never heard of this side effect of magick before, was stunned by how casually Benedict was now revealing it to him. He closed his eyes and thought of Luca, his naked body and the texture and sensation of the energy that emanated from him during their couplings. And suddenly he could feel that energy, could almost hear it like distant thunder, coming from a distinct direction. And getting stronger.

"He's coming this way," Claudio said, "Quite close actually. Perhaps he's with Master Paelomon."

"Good work. In that case, I suspect I have a notion of what Master Paelomon intends. But let's hear it from him directly." Then, in a louder voice, Benedict called out: "Come in, Pael."

The door opened and the hulking, hairy master entered, with Luca at his tail exactly as Claudio had sensed. Both looked grim, their jaws set with determination but weary around the eyes. "It would appear the Grand Marshal was not mollified by his stay with us," Paelmon said as an opener. Luca came to sit next to Claudio and squeeze his hand, whether to give or receive comfort was unclear -- probably both.

"That's gratitude for you," Benedict joked, but only half-heartedly. "What say the other masters?"

"We are aligned on our course of action," Paelomon replied, pacing the room, "It is perfectly clear these troublemakers intend to stay for some time. This, of course, cannot be allowed."

"Naturally. The disruption to the Commune would be unacceptable."

Claudio spoke up without thinking. "But we can't drive them out!" He'd been thinking of his instinct, not long before, to lash out at the protestors with magick. He was still horrified at how close he'd come to doing so.

The two masters looked at him and only then Claudio wondered if he had spoken out of turn. But their faces were not those of teachers who were annoyed at a student's interruption, but of peers curious as to what their brother had to say. They were waiting for him to elaborate.

"That's exactly what they want," Claudio finished, "They are hoping for a fight. It was clear most of them are ready and eager for one."

"But we have magick, it would be a very short struggle, would it not?" Benedict said, but by his tone Claudio knew he was just testing him, on top of the fact that it was a position he knew his master would never genuinely take.

"We can't use magick to force our will like that. That's not what we are. And it will only make them and their religion more sure they are right about us."

Paelomon smiled, crossed behind Claudio to pat him on the head approvingly. "You speak with wisdom, magicker. Do not fret, the other masters and I would never consider such a thing. Have a little faith in us, young man. These devotees of the Double God cannot be driven from the Commune by force."

Luca finally spoke then, a half-smile on his face as he seemed to be putting the pieces together. "They must choose to leave. On their own volition."

"Precisely," the bearish master said, pointing a meaty finger at Luca, "And no doubt they would do so in a few weeks or months when they saw their ranting and raving had no effect on us. But as Benedict points out, that would mean a major disruption to our studies, our way of life, not to mention the trauma to our tenderest and youngest acolytes. I propose, therefore, we speed the process along a little, by use of magick ritual, and the masters have concurred."

"What are you thinking," Benedict said, templing his fingers in thought.

"Conviction of belief can be a powerful motivator," Paelmon replied, "But how long can it stand up against physical discomfort? The needs of the flesh versus the demands of the spirit -- a struggle as old as time. These are not trained ascetics, philosophers, or theologians we contend with, but simple folk whipped up into a fervor. When the going gets tough, how long do you think their zealotry will sustain them? How long before they head home to the comfort of their normal lives?"

Benedict nodded, fully understanding. "Some of the newly planted crops will be ruined, to say nothing of my poor little garden, but I suppose there's nothing for it. We have enough food stored to last us some time."

"The other masters will prepare rituals to protect the fields as much as they can. They have, at my request, left the main task to us." And with that he indicated the four magickers present.

"Wait, hold on," Luca said, raising a hand like he was in class and had a question, "Are you proposing weather magick? And for Claudio and I to be involved? That's a high level ritual."

"Never waste an opportunity for instruction," Paelomon smiled, nodding, "You two are ready. Master Benedict and I could probably manage it alone--" and here he stopped behind Benedict, placing a hand on his shoulder intimately, "--but two pairings will enhance the effect, not to mention providing you a valuable learning experience. That's a double-win in my book."

"Pael, they've not yet entered each other," Benedict said softly to Paelomon, giving him a significant look. Claudio couldn't tell if his master was saying that like it was a good or bad thing.

"Yes, I had not forgotten," the big master replied, "And Claudio, if I'm correct, you have still never experienced penetration with anybody, correct?"

Mutely, with only a shy glance at Luca, Claudio nodded.

"With your natural power, and it being your first time ever... well, well, I should think our visitors are in for a very unpleasant surprise." Paelomon laughed, "Just try to last more than ten seconds, if you can."

"Pael!" Benedict chided, but he was grinning, "Don't tease my pupil."

"I can last more than ten seconds!" Claudio found himself saying rather defensively, asserting his newfound sexual confidence.

"I couldn't, my first time," Paelomon said, shrugging, and all four of them laughed. Claudio was relieved at how much his tension and worry over the situation was melting under the relaxed, playful demeanor of Master Paelomon, who really did seem to have it all under control and wasn't worried at all. "Besides, Luca here would no doubt take it as a compliment. But it will undermine the ritual. So do your best, in any case."

It hit Claudio hard then just what they were discussing, what was going to happen. Early that morning, he'd almost penetrated a boy's backside for the first time, despite it being unideal circumstances. That's how desperate he had been to experience the sensation. Now it was going to happen for real, with Luca, and as part of a powerful high level ritual to protect the Commune.

He had been told not to make too much of the first time he did any sex act. It was easy to assign some level of importance to it that was not logical and just added more pressure to the moment. He had never been taught the alien concept of "virginity", so common among outsiders, at all. But he looked at Luca, who was grinning with anticipation back at him, and was privately very glad he'd declined Paulo's willing and eager buttocks. Now Luca would be his first, which felt right. Despite not saying this out loud, Luca seemed to understand the sentiment behind his gaze and squeezed his hand with pleasure, then leaned in to kiss him.

"Alright, you two," Benedict said, pleasure and amusement in his voice. "Save it for the ritual."

"Come," Paelomon added, opening the door, "Let's to the ritual chamber at once."

"Now?" Claudio squeaked, surprised. A surge of anxiety warred with a surge of anticipation and his sudden erection.

"The sooner the better, where our guests are concerned," the hairy man said, then grinned and added, "And you two are already giving off such energy you might overflow where you sit. Strike while the iron is hot, I say."

Luca and Claudio exchanged glances again, fairly destroying each other with their eyes. When they stood, they both had large bulges in their robes.

"The iron is hot enough to burn the whole building down," Benedict commented with a wink.