Date: Mon, 17 Aug 2009 01:10:58 -0700
From: charlesdeboeuf@gmail.com
Subject: Marvil the Horrible

"Marvil," said a high voice. There was no response.

"Marvil," the voice repeated with a touch of impatience. The voice issued
from a large mirror hanging on the wall of an exceedingly sloppy bedroom,
and again it went unanswered. "Wake up, Your Immenseness, someone's coming!"

The heavy snoring that had been rasping through the air came to sudden halt.
"Whazzat?" mumbled a gravelly voice.

"Hungover as usual," observed the mirror. "Some wizard you are."

"Wizard enough to make a crappy five and dime mirror talk," replied a
rumpled man, his grey-flecked hair pointing in all directions.

"Spare me the witticism; there is a wizard approaching who is intent on your
death!" said the mirror.

"What? Why didn't you say so! Show him to me at once!" said Marvil, leaping
out of bed.

"I did say so, but you were passed out," grumped the mirror. Shortly, the
reflection of the messy room was replaced by a totally different scene: a
sunny hillside path along which a young man walked vigorously. He carried an
intricately carved staff and wore pretentiously decorated robes.

"Hmm, young and blond. And look at that huge staff, very promising. Do I
have time for a shower?" asked the wizard.

"Just enough. Brush your teeth, too." said the mirror.

 ------------

The proud young mage Trophecant rapped thrice on the door with his staff.
"Evil Wizard Marvil, come forth! Do not make me blast this door down!" he
cried.

The door opened, though nobody was standing there to have opened it.
Trophecant peered inside for a moment, then straightened up and strode
confidently through the door.

Inside, Marvil the Horrible, or so Trophecant's friends had named him, sat
on a couch. Not very horrible to look at, thought Trophecant, but this
seemingly kindly face was surely just an illusion projected by the evilest
wizard who ever lived. For some reason the fiend's hair looked wet. "Yield
to me, Demon, or I shall slay you where you stand. Sit." he corrected
himself.

"My, such a refined challenge. You must have gone to an expensive school.
And graduated very recently, I imagine?"

"Just yesterday. And I made a resolution to devote my magical career to
ridding the world of evil wizards. You are to be the first." said the young
mage.

"I certainly hope so!" leered Marvil.

Trophecant, puzzled by the older wizard's enthusiam, returned to his errand.
"I demand that you give me your wand, immediately!"

"All in due time, my boy. First let's get better acquainted," urged Marvil.

"Do not try to distract me! I am here to take your wand or destroy you!"
growled Trophecant.

"Tell you what, I'll wrestle you for it." laughed Marvil.

"Now!" Trophecant shouted and directed a bolt of magical lightning at the
laughing figure on the couch. The lightning stopped several feet short.
Trophecant stabbed the air with his staff again and fearful gouts of flame
engulfed the entire couch, concealing it for a few moments. When the flames
retreated, Marvil still sat there, unaffected. Trophecant paled. Those had
been his best spells, and his enemy had ignored them.

"Is that all?" Marvil sighed. "I guess the schools aren't what they used to
be. Still, I think I'll write a letter to the dean of your college thanking
him for sending such a tender morsel my way." Trophecant, in the early
stages of panic, turned to run for the door. But there was no door any more.

"Surely you're not thinking of leaving already? We've barely gotten to know
each other," Marvil chuckled. Trophecant whirled around, staff raised to
strike, but Marvil made a small gesture and the staff flew out of the young
wizard's grasp. A second gesture froze Trophecant with his hands raised in
defense. "You wanted my wand, didn't you? Well now you're going to get it."
Marvil untied his sash and stepped out of his robe, revealing his rigid
erection. Suddenly Trophecant understood that he had been tricked by his
friends into seeking the wand of this evil wizard, and now that he had found
it he wished he hadn't. His fear was visible in his eyes even though his
body was held completely motionless by the magic spell.

"Don't worry, my boy. I am not going to take you unwillingly. I have a very
special spell I save for occasions just such as this; it will make you the
most eager partner imaginable. You're going to love it, but not yet. First
let's see what we've got here." Marvil waved his hand and the young wizard's
robes flew off in all directions. His frozen face reddened in embarassment.

Marvil gulped at the sight before him. Trophecant was a nearly perfect
specimen of masculinity, lean and muscular with a delicious smattering of
body hair, blond and tanned. His only flaw, if you could call it that, were
his oversized sexual organs. Not freakishly huge, but big enough to make the
older man stare. "Omygod," he mumbled, jaw slack. Shaking himself, he
inspected his captive closely, using his hands, paying particular attention
to the most sensitive spots. When his finger probed between the golden
globes of the young wizards behind, Trophecant started to sweat.  Marvil saw
this and chided himself.

"I apologize, it's not right to let you suffer like this, but I couldn't
help myself. Now for the lust spell." Marvil gestured intricately, and
suddenly Trophecant began to feel very odd, in places that his magical
training had forbidden him to touch. For he, like all followers of the
Golden Path, were celibate for life. Trophecant knew that his virginal state
was the foundation of his magic, and that he was about to lose his virginity
and his powers at the same time. But that didn't matter, because there was
glow inside him such as he'd never felt, a warmth that was filling him,
rising in him. Then he was rising, and stiffening in a way that would have
horrified him only moments ago. Now it excited him till he felt like he
would burst into flame.

Marvil watched the transformation take over the young man, and when the
terror in his eyes was replaced with yearning, Marvil released his magical
hold. Trophecant wasted no time and fairly threw himself into Marvil's arms.
Pulling him down onto the couch, Marvil's mouth wandered about the glories
of Trophecant's robust body. Swollen chest and deeply ridged stomach, golden
calves and chisled thighs, Marvil tasted and Trophecant writhed. When he
could wait no longer, Marvil plunged the young man's rigid tool deep into
his throat.

The reaction was immediate. Trophecant howled and spewed bolt after bolt of
liquid lightning down Marvil's greedy gullet. Trophecant shook and pumped as
the spasms went on and on, his back arched, hips pumping. Finally he
collapsed in a panting heap. Marvil sat back, licking his lips and wiping
them on the back of his hand. "Wow, it must have been a long while since
your last time." Marvil guessed.

"Never," Trophecant panted.

 "That would explain a lot," chortled the older wizard. Before he could get
out another word, the young mage lauched himself at Marvil's lap, burrowing
for the most tender parts and slurping them up. Inexperienced but magically
highly motivated, Trophecant's mouth pistoned wetly up and down on Marvil's
aching rod. Marvil's eyes rolled backwards in obscene pleasure. Only his
wizard's strength of will allowed him to stop the young mans frantic sucking
long enough to flip him over and pull him up on his knees. Without
hesitatation the wizard positioned himself against his spellbound captive's
warm, firm globes and with a single devastating thrust drove himself deep
into the young stud's nether channel, right up to the hilts.

The young mage howled, but it was a howl of purest pleasure: never before
had he felt anything remotely like this, so intense and disturbing, yet
fulfilling at the same time. He shook uncontrollably while Marvil, now lying
atop him back to belly, squirmed in ecstacy. The young man's exquisite
struggles caused his rear end to grip Marvil like a fist, squeezing and
mauling him in a velvet glove. Marvil returned the favor by reaching
underneath his all-too-willing captive to seize and then slowly pump the
young man's oversized and steely erection. Trophecant released a long, low
groan like a cow. Slowly, so slowly, Marvil fondled and fisted his prey
until the young mage climaxed again, the shuddering vibrations of which
pushed Marvil over the edge into his own long delayed explosion. The two of
them thrashed like beached dolphins, clutching each other for support as the
waves of pleasure pounded them. Finally, exhausted, they fell asleep in each
others arms.

---------

In the light of morning, Trophecant came reluctantly awake. Lying there with
his eyes closed, he heard Marvil's voice say "Well I gave you my wand. Still
want to kill me?"

Trophecant thought about that for a minute then turned, coming face to face
with his enemy. "My powers are gone. You have taken them along with my
chastity. I am no longer a threat to you."

"But if you could, would you kill me?" asked Marvil.

"I don't want to kill you any more. I want to stay with you." replied
Trophecant.

"Good," said Marvil. "I will teach you new magic, magic that does not punish
you by making you deny your needs. That kind of magic is weak. I will show
you magic that is fired by your sexual energy (of which you have an
overwhelming sufficiency I might add) and you will be like unto a god.
Actually, you're like unto a god now in my humble opinion," as he thrust his
raping toungue into his new apprentice's most private opening.