FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Private Wizard Time

By Seraph LeSabre

Hidden away in his tower, the mighty wizard poured over a thick tome by candlelight. He dragged a short claw down the parchment, examining the runes and mumbling a mystical incantation under his breath over and over to try and get the pronunciation just right. With a flourish of his paw, he produced a long, dried octopus tentacle and laid it out before the altar, preparing his summoning ritual. As he lifted his spell book, the wizard raised a paw high above his head and began to recite the dread incantation, only to be interrupted by a loud banging on the door behind him.

"Giiiiiiiil!" a nasally voice sounded, "There's a customer downstairs who wants to talk to the manager!"

"Who the hell is interrupting my dark magicks!" Gil shouted back in a squeaky voice, "Didn't you tell them that the manager is a mighty and powerful WYZZZARD who is not to be disturbed?"

"Yes, Gil, I even spelled it with three Z's, but they still insisted."

Gil huffed and put his robe and wizard hat back on, the weasel grumbling about the constant interruptions. While he originally had intended to become the most powerful wizard in all of Waterdeep, he grew up as an urchin without access to the many resources of the other rich kids. Kids who would grow up with expensive educations and inroads with high society and later brag about how they were a self-made wizard who never had to take a handout, and put themselves through the magical academies with only their hard work, determination, and their parents footing all their bills. Still, Gil managed to take on various jobs working for established wizards. It was a perfect opportunity to learn from the masters of the craft... at least until the weasel's acerbic personality ensured an early end to his every business relationship.

"Can't you just make Lif handle it?" Gil shouted to his hostess through the door, "This is supposed to be my private wizard time!"

"Just hurry on downstairs, it probably won't even take you a minute to deal with."

Gil whined about being interrupted again, but, after adjusting his hat, he snapped his fingers and disappeared, leaving less of a puff of smoke and more of a cloud of disturbed dust where he once stood. He reappeared two stories below, in the middle of the bustling tavern that he'd inherited as part of an ill-conceived venture. The Blue Scroll took no small amount of effort to renovate, especially given its mildly-haunted nature, but Gil was able to make peace with the poltergeist and turn the mansion into a mildly-successful tavern. On one paw, it made him enough money to finance his wizardly pursuits, but on the other, it led to the occasional interruption.

"Tremble in fear foolish commoners, for I AM the manager! Now, what craven, pox-marked, tartish-gaited, pixie cut-bearing Karen of a mortal dares to disturb the wizardly workings of the mighty Gil?"

A thick green finger tapped on Gil's shoulder. The weasel turned around to see the thick gut of a blonde-haired half-orc three times his size, scowling down at him. He looked up and crossed his arms over his chest, his voice lifting at least two octaves from his dramatic entrance.

"Well, what the fuck do you want?" he belligerently shouted upward, completely unintimidated by the orc.

"There was a hair in my beer," the green-skinned patron growled, holding up a thick, curled strand of golden hair, "Your waitress won't give me my money back."

Gil looked at Meera as she trudged back down the stairs, the bat's black hair tied back in a ponytail. He looked at Lif, their ghost bartender who decidedly had no hair. And as Derixt the sommelier wandered around, Gil didn't even need to look at the drow's white hair to see just how full of shit this customer was.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Gil yelled upward, standing on his toes to try and come up to the orc's chest, "That hair is so clearly one of yours, and with how curly it is, I don't even want to know whence it came! Are you seriously coming into my house and pulling this sort of bullshit?"

With a wave of his paw, the weasel jabbed a finger into the orc's chest. With a loud crack, the orc flew back ten feet, slamming into the door behind him and crashing through. The room stared in silence for just a few moments, then erupted into a loud cheer, falling back into their raucous fun. Gil was not exactly renowned for his hospitality among the guests of the Blue Scroll, however his manner of dealing with problem guests was always a source of entertainment every guest secretly hoped someone else would be the victim of.

As the ferret groaned and shook his paw out, Meera approached him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Well since you're down here," the bat droned in her droning, nasally voice, "You did make all the preparations for tonight right? If you're bringing in extra staff, I should probably meet them."

"Extra staff? Are you kidding me? We're already in the red this month, what do we need more staff for?"

"For the lavish party? For your adventuring guild with the dumb name? That you drunkenly agreed to host last night? And presumably completely forgot about until I reminded you an hour before the event?"

Gil stared at her for an inordinately long time as the synapses started firing. By the time she counted off fifteen seconds of silence, Gil shouted out loud "FUCK!" and teleported back up to his tower... well, more like the attic of the tavern, but it at least had all of his wizardy supplies. As he stumbled about over the piles of books, he cursed at himself for his own stupidity for agreeing to this stupid party. He had only really gone with that stupid guild for a few quests to spite his adventuring partners for signing up with the goody-two-shoes Harpers, and now he was stuck in a guild that unironically called itself Fort Kickass. It was the sort of name someone with a child's mind would have come up with on the spot that only stuck because nobody else could come up with any serious proposals. And now Gil was going to have to host a party for them? Damnit, he didn't even know most of their names by heart... other than one particular name he could never forget. Godsdammit, Gil thought, he's totally going to show up tonight....

The weasel frantically shuffled through the papers on his desk. There had to be someone he could try and summon for an assist! He racked his brain for anybody who owed him a favor... or at least someone close to an even balance with him. Maybe his adventuring partners? Naw, Hei would be out beating people up for money, and Bip and he weren't exactly on speaking terms after that minor incident with the peasant in his ill-advised quest to establish and subsequently rule over a Pancake Maker's Guild.

"Would've worked out perfectly," Gil mumbled under his breath, "If they'd just helped a bit with the initial costs we'd be rolling in pancake money!"

After running back and forth through his study several times, the realization began to sink in that there wasn't anybody he could get for extra staff on such short notice. He was already going to have to send Derixt and Lif out for more beer and Meera for more food. Even with conjuring an invisible servant to help, it dawned on him that his worst fear was quickly becoming a really.

Gil was going to have to put in an honest night's work.

~~~

"GRAAAAAAH! Tremble before the might of Drakken, Defender of Humans, Hero of Thay, Slayer of Liches, Bane of Asshole Dragons, and Wooer of enough Kobolds to fill a whole adventure module for 1st-3rd level players!"

"Wait, Slayer of Liches? Rahat told us that lich straight up murdered you on sight."

"I got better, didn't I? And did Rahat also tell you about when we then found the lich's phylactery and literally, not figuratively, skull-fucked his soul out of existence?"

Gil groaned as the silver Dragonborn's voice shook the very walls of his tavern. That empty-skulled barbarian had to have been at least eighty, but still had enough muscle to effortlessly throw anybody in a given room around like a ragdoll: a fact that he'd demonstrated on Gil on more than one occasion. Despite his more recent senility, Drakken had been a legendary adventurer back in his heyday, which gained him enough respect among the denizens of Waterdeep that they tolerated his tendency to... relive some of his adventures.

As though Drakken wasn't enough, everywhere the Dragonborn went he was tailed by an entourage of kobolds of various ages and genders who constantly swooned over him. For someone of his advanced age, the hero was somehow able to attract a crowd. While it made Gil's skin crawl to picture what the octogenarian pile of muscles and scales did with all those kobolds, they always seemed to rush back for more.

Tonight, Gil rushed back and forth between tables, frantically trying to deliver drinks to some dozen invited members of his adventuring guild, along with Drakken's plus-one, which had, in his usual fashion, turned into a plus-twenty. The Guildmaster, Urist, sat in the corner with a slender half-orc woman, the old badger casually sipping on a pint of strawberry ale. He looked quite calm despite the commotion around him, as the kobolds and adventurers drank together, shouting and climbing over each other. Chairs scraped along the wooden floors, steins banged against tables, and Gil had no idea how but somehow a kobold wound up dangling from his chandelier. What was worse, every time Gil delivered a round of ales, the crowd just demanded more!

He could barely keep up with the orders, and after an hour he wound up letting Meera and Lif handle to specific orders. Gil would take a tray of steins out to the crowd and just let them disappear before his eyes, then he would head back to the bar to reload, and let the process repeat. He stopped bothering to count how many he'd served after six dozen, figuring he could just charge the guild by weight at the end of the night. As the night went on, the guests grew more and more unruly, with Gil having to break up play fights and prevent his stuff from getting broken. For some reason, having a room filled with adventurers and monsters and filling them all with alcohol made for quite the spectacular displays!

Four hours went by like a blur for Gil, the wizard needing to sneak a few shots for himself to keep up with the bustling activity. His legs ached from doing short-sprints back and forth all night, and his favorite robes had had at least three drinks splashed onto them. The weasel was definitely better suited to being on the receiving end of a party like this, rather than the providing end. Finally, like an angelic chorus granting succor to the exasperated Gil, Drakken's voice boomed out through the crowd:

"GRAAAAAAH! Tremble before the might of Drakken, as he retires to his room for the night!"

With that, the dragonborn stomped up the stairs, where he would presumably make use of whatever space he could find to make use of the score of kobolds who quickly scurried behind him. Gil breathed a sigh of relief, feeling twenty pounds lighter as a good two thirds of the bar emptied out. Sure, they were going to absolutely thrash Hei's and Bip's rooms, and most likely the whole upstairs, but as far as the wizard was concerned that was a problem for Future-Gil, and at the rate Present-Gil was sneaking mead, that asshole's day was already ruined.

Finally, Urist beckoned the other adventurers to find their own lodgings for the night, lest they venture upstairs and witness things that couldn't be unseen. As the remainder of the crowd dispersed, Gil finally had a chance to lock up the bar for the night and collapse onto a barstool. Lif stood in front of him wordlessly on the other side of the counter, the translucent ghost making a show of polishing a single mug as though there wasn't a small mountain of those to clean scattered throughout the tavern. The weasel cringed as he heard loud thudding noises upstairs, not wanting to even think about what acts the gods were turning a blind eye to upstairs.

"Well, that went about as well as to be expected." Lif finally broke the silence as Gil's forehead dropped to the oak counter.

"My everything hurts..." the weasel groaned, resting his face in his chocolate-colored paws, "If I'd known actually working was this hard, I might have actually tipped every once in a while back at the Yawning Portal."

"No, you wouldn't have. Take the rest of the night off," Lif offered. It wasn't like him to care about his boss, but the last thing he needed was for Gil to go mad... der, "Meera and I will take care of the cleanup. Just, you know, watch your step upstai-"

The ghost-host didn't even need to finish his sentence for Gil to mumble a teleportation spell into his paws and disappear. He rematerialized back in the attic of the manor he'd hastily converted into a tavern, his "wizard tower" and finally took off his oversized hat, letting it fall to the floor. The weasel pulled his blue robes over his head and tossed them aside, leaving himself in just his smallclothes underneath. Once he rid himself of those, he didn't even bother to clean off the papers and books strewn about his bed before collapsing right onto it with a beleaguered sigh. Just when he finally started to relax though, he realized that he wasn't alone up in his tower.

As he heard a faint shuffling and clacking, Gil reached for his staff and held it forward, clutching his bedsheets to his chest and channeling his magic through the gem to light up the pitch-black room. There, crouched in the corner, was the outline of a kobold who'd somehow managed to bypass the arcane locks that Gil was certain he'd placed on the entryway - well, certain-ish. It was a long day.

"Who goes there?" Gil squeaked, trying and failing to sound threatening, "Who dares to disturb the-"

"O' great and powerful wizard!" the kobold finished for Gil, kneeling down, "Don't hurt me, I can explain! Meepo had the chance to run off with Drakken the Mighty, but Meepo could not resist the urge to see the tower of such a powerful wizard as yourself!"

Gil found himself taken aback. The kobold wasn't saying anything about him that he didn't already know for himself, it was just unusual for him to hear it coming from someone else. The weasel stood, holding his bedsheets as a makeshift robe. As he rose with the sheet wrapped around him, the books and papers spilled off onto the floor, eliciting a wince from the both of them. The kobold, Meepo as he called himself, stepped forward into the light of his staff. Even in the dim blue light, Gil could see his scales held a bronze tint to them, the ones around his belly fading to a lighter copper. Meepo only wore a red loincloth around his waist - he must've changed into it after going upstairs, as Gil was sure he would have remembered that. As it was, the red fabric hung loosely around the kobold's waist, a fact that Gil couldn't help but intently notice.

"Ex-explain yourself," Gil stammered, waving his staff in what he thought was an aggressive gesture, "How did you get up here?"

"Well, the door was unlocked," Meepo explained, confirming Gil's suspicions, "And Meepo was going to go off and ride Drakken a few times, but there was such a big crowd. So Meepo thinks to himself, 'there's a real powerful wizard here, this could be Meepo's chance to become a wizard himself!' So, I comes up to explore the wizard's power, but the wizard has hidden all of his secrets to make it look like it's just a mess up here! Then the wizard appeared and Meepo had to hide, but the wizard is too smart for him and-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Gil cut the kobold off, "I guess... if you're a fan that's okay. But you can't just break in here like that!"

"Oooooooh, Meepo sorry!" he knelt on the ground with his tail sticking up, "Meepo will make it up to the wizard! Meepo hear rumor that the wizard may be able to help him, but now Meepo has ruined everything!"

"It's... okay. How did you think I could help though?"

"Meepo hear rumor about wizards!" the kobold stood back up, taking several steps forward and placing a clawed hand on Gil's staff, "Meepo hear that kobolds can get magic powers by banging wizards! And Meepo found wizard right here!"

Gil's cheeks burned bright red as the kobold reached forward, tracing a claw in circles on the weasel's chest. Was... was this kobold actually propositioning him? He was hardly a prude himself, but with how earnest and naiive the kobold seemed, it almost seemed like he'd be taking advantage of him - especially given that he was about 87% sure that he was the one who had started that rumor himself in a drunken rant.

"Um... I don't think that's actually true." Gil tried to correct Meepo as the kobold rubbed his hand suggestively up and down his staff.

"Probably not, Meepo not dumb," the kobold acknowledged as he let his loincloth drop to the ground, "But still, would be silly to pass up chance!"

Gil couldn't really argue with that logic. Nor could he argue with the kobold as Meepo placed his hand on the weasel's chest, insistently tugging on the bedsheet that covered Gil's modesty. Setting his staff against his nightstand to dimply illuminate the room, Gil shyly let the sheets fall, showing his tan fur with brown markings running up and down his sides. Meepo immediately set to work, his scaled hands running up and down along Gil's fur, claws just barely dragging against the flesh beneath. The weasel winced nervously, but Meepo knew just what he was doing as he reaches down to fondle that sheath down below.

"Mammals so warm," Meepo mused as he coaxed Gil's other "wizard staff" out of his sheath, "Much warmer than Drakken. Meepo like warm things!"

Even though he wanted to argue about being compared to that ancient dragonborn, Gil found his words stolen from his lips as he stiffened into Meepo's skilled hand. The kobold certainly seemed to know what he was doing, making sure to keep his claws away from his partner's sensitive flesh as he teased along. Finally, once he was satisfied with Gil's stiff length, the kobold pushed the very flummoxed wizard back onto the bed and climbed up on him, straddling his lap and lifting his thick muscular tail.

Gil didn't need to take any action on his own. The kobold lowered himself down onto Gil's pink length, shuddering as he let the weasel fill him. Leaning his head back, Gil let out a moan as he felt the kobold's warm rear envelop his dick, Meepo clenching down on it like an expert. As Gil shyly placed his brown-furred paws on the kobold's side, he could tell what the kobold meant - he wasn't exactly cool to the touch, but his scales definitely didn't feel quite as warm as he would have expected. Still, though, Meepo was plenty warm where it mattered.

The kobold wasted little time in starting to bounce up and down along Gil's length, his own pink length starting to poke out of the slit between his legs and bouncing along with his motions. Gil panted and clutched at the bedcovers beneath him, leaning his head back. He'd been so wrapped up in his studies, drinking, and whatever other nonsense struck his fancy (like the Pancake Makers' Guild), he'd forgotten about just how good other pursuits could feel. He felt like there was some way he could spin this as some sort of wizardly act, but as the kobold in his lap clenched down with his tailhole, his train of thought was completely derailed.

Finally starting to give in, Gil started bucking his hips upward into the kobold. He gripped at the scaly sides and moaned as Meepo grinned, riding on the wizard's length and panting. The weasel gasped and moaned along as that kobold placed his hands on his soft chestfur, kneading in and letting his claws brush along Gil's very sensitive nipples. That warm inviting tailhole... the determined kobold riding him enthusiastically... the flattery of being called a mighty wizard by someone else for a change... even someone as neurotic as Gil could let himself find genuine enjoyment in a situation like this. As Meepo panted and moaned in a broken combination of Common and Draconic, Gil felt his whole body start to tingle.

With a loud squeak, Gil shot his load off into the kobold. As he felt the surge of pleasure through his body, Gil didn't even notice the small sparks shooting out from his fingertips, but Meepo sure did. The kobold grinned and only bounced faster, wanting to milk every bit out of his newfound wizard friend, even as the weasel collapsed back onto his bed in a haze. The last thing Gil remembered as he drifted off to sleep was the grinning face of the kobold staring down at him.

The next morning Gil woke up to an empty bed as usual. His whole body ached from the previous day, and while he usually valued having his privacy in his tower, as he remembered the previous night he couldn't help but feel it might have been nice to....

"Nah!" he exclaimed to his empty room as he collected his smallclothes, "A mighty mighty wizard as myself has no need for such mortal companionship!"

He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, but as he rubbed his paw over the dried splotches of cum in his fur, he paused a few moments before waving his paw over himself to clean up. It wasn't as relaxing as a nice warm bath, but he'd have time for that later. For now, he had to steel himself for the trip downstairs to survey the carnage that was left over.

Electing not to teleport himself, Gil cautiously descended the staircase to the second floor. Sure enough, a literal pile of naked, passed-out kobolds blocked his exit, and as Gil tried to tiptoe around them, he couldn't help but keep an eye out for that bronze one from last night. When he didn't see Meepo in the pile, he gave a sigh, not knowing whether it was a wistful one or a relieved one. He finally managed to reach the stairway to the first floor, where he found Meera, Lif, and Derixt with shocked expressions on their faces. The bleary-eyed wizard didn't pay any attention though, dragging himself to the bar and slumping over.

"Coffee... need...." He groaned out, knowing Lif would have his preferred brew ready by now. To his surprise, though, the hand that delivered his hot mug of liquor-enhanced coffee wasn't the ghostly hand of his bartender, but a bronze-scaled claw.

"One coffee for the mighty wizard!" Meepo chirped brightly, wearing ill-fitting white shirt and brown trousers, and a red bandanna tied over his head. Gil took a sip of his coffee without noticing, then immediately spit it out as he realized what was happening.

"Gil, is this another one of your charm spells?" Meera asked accusingly, "That's low even for you."

"I swear, I didn't... I don't..." Gil stammered, trying not to spill the rest of his coffee in surprise, "Meepo, what are you doing down here?"

"Meepo here to become powerful wizard!" Meepo declared proudly as he picked up a mop, "Meepo will train under the mighty wizard and become a wizard himself by working hard!"

Gil had no idea what to say. He was barely able to teach himself everything he'd known, and teaching was out of the question. Hells, he'd only learned in the first place by grifting his way through various apprenticeships. Meepo, however, actually seemed sincere about this? It took the weasel a few moments of consideration, but as he looked into those slitted eyes and remembered the night before, Gil summoned his hat from upstairs and placed it upon his head.

"Well then, guess it's time for lesson one... how are you with that mop?"