What the fuck was that?! What just happened?! Why can she read this?!

Why can't she stop smiling?

Whatever. For all she knows, every wizard can do this. It's not like she'd know.

...being able to read the spells doesn't tell her how to use them. She can understand what they're supposed to do, but this still doesn't reveal how the concepts described hook into physical effect, or how she goes from knowledge to actual effect.

Alright.

She is here to convince Mister Narvet to teach her how to cast Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, and Endure Elements, in that order.

Detect Magic because she suspects she might be able to figure out the rest on her own with just that one. Being able to see the actual magic rather than just the finger-wiggles would be amazing.

Prestidigitation, because hygiene. Wizards always seem to have impractically good hygiene and smell nicer than everyone else, and she finally understands why. It's literally the same cantrip they used to do the laundry. Which makes perfect sense in retrospect. But she's been under the impression that it cleaned cloth, nothing else, not that it was basically a very tiny Wish that could do all kinds of things. She wants the ability to look and feel and smell freshly-bathed all the time, for free. That would be amazing.

Endure Elements for the obvious reason. She lives in Sothis. The hot weather might as well be a chronic illness, and this spell is the cure.

Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, Endure Elements.

Gamila closes the spellbook, takes a breath, and forges back up into the laundry wizard's private sanctum.

(Perception: 15)

Omlar still doesn't notice her. She's going to have to either announce herself or wait for him to finish what he's doing.

She's going to silently return the spellbook to it's previous resting place, and then...

Honestly, she has no idea what to do here.

At one extreme, she could strip naked and creep over to him on her hands and knees and see how close she can get to touching him before he notices her. On the other extreme, she could go back downstairs, make a loud noise, and claim he forgot to lock his door, and ask politely for a moment of his time.

The latter extreme is safer, but what if he says no. She feels like if she's already naked and within five-feet of him and has him off-balance, that's a much stronger negotiating position. But that could backfire. Loudly. On the third hand, taking too long could backfire loudly. Her father could notice she isn't where she's supposed to be at any moment.

She doesn't have time for a slow seduction. She doesn't know enough about seduction to pull off a slow seduction anyway. All she knows are the base facts, the urge between her legs that can be soothed, stoked, and then sated, and the direct connection between that urge and the craving to touch she feels when she sees someone pretty. All she knows is that foundational drive that is the common ground that (as far as she knows) all men and women share.

In the end, it doesn't matter what she says, how she approaches. Either he'll feel that urge, and this will be easy, or he won't and this will be impossible.

Does she have anything else to offer him in trade?

No. She doesn't. It's either this, or stealing the spellbook outright.

She ducks down into the stairwell and starts carefully disrobing.

With her apparel tucked inside her cloak and left on the steps, Gamila ascends one more time. A shiver of excitement runs through her. As mercenary as her motivations are, her body is eagerly hungry for what she's hoping will happen.

This time, she walks straight across the room and does nothing to conceal her presence, planting her feet audibly on the floor in plain view.

To say that Omlar was not expecting this is an understatement.

In fact, when he turns at the sound and sees her there, he's so startled that he doesn't even register her state of undress.

He screams and falls out of his chair.

There is a plush rug on the floor, but his landing is still about as undignified as it gets.

Snerk.

No, don't laugh. That will definitely make him mad.

"Good evening, Mister Narvet. I apologize for the interruption."

"What are you doing in my house?!?!?"

He recovers what dignity he can as he scrambles to disentangle himself from his fallen chair, hissing at a bruised elbow and hip.

Then he's shocked all over again. One, it's the Saei girl from earlier. Two, she's naked.

What?

Just-

What?

Her ill-fitting obviously-meant-for-growing-into clothing really left a lot to the imagination and his imagination had apparently been insufficient-

But, no, seriously, what?

What is happening, here? Is someone trying to frame him for something? Is this actually even the Saei girl? If it is...

"What the 'strom are you playing at, girl?!?! You can't be here!!!"

(Perception: 12)

She's looking, but she's not sure exactly what she's looking for. He... that was maybe a flash of desire in his eyes? She might have imagined it, she's not sure. Well either way, she'll clarify that matter shortly.

"You should probably keep your voice down."

She moves closer, into the Light, letting him get a better look and also getting in his personal space before he has a chance to stand up.

"I've come to you with a simple offer, Sir. My body, for your knowledge. Please teach me to cast a spell, and I will repay you with pleasure."

(Will Save: 6)

Omlar stares at her for several long moments as his brain slowly processes her words. He's taken-aback enough that he forgets to dismiss the words of a girl out of hand, and eventually the meaning of her proposal sinks in as an actual proposed trade.

In the end, it is a rather straightforward deal.

Omlar is aware in a background sort of way that female casters aren't that much more unusual than male casters, that the unusualness of being a caster is several orders of magnitude bigger than the unusualness of a woman doing anything unusual. But female casters aren't women; they're female-shaped people who are doing something else with their lives, something other than being a woman. This is a legally-recognized fact.

It is obviously logical that for female casters to exist, they have to start as women, but this is the first time in Omlar's life that he is directly encountering this fact. And he feels a kind of vague horror at the idea of, by his own actions, causing a female to be a caster instead of a woman.

But this budding young woman is really hot and naked and offering herself.

He'd be ruining her. But it's not like any man would ever marry a girl who'd offer to whore herself like this in the first place. But no man with sensible tastes would want a caster for a wife either. He'd be ruining her just as thoroughly if he taught her a spell. Assuming she could even learn. It wasn't like wizardry was easy.

Her father isn't Important, but he's not a nobody. He might be able to force Omlar to marry the girl if anyone finds out.

But she is really hot and naked and offering herself.

He should get to have her. A girl who'd offer herself like this, he doesn't need to deal fairly with her, does he. He should teach her a lesson; show her what happens to stupid girls like her when they go around being whores. It'll only be what she deserves. He'll even make a genuine attempt to teach her Prestidigitation, so she can fail at it and know her own folly.

Omlar rises to his feet to loom over the audacious young woman.

"Do you even understand what you're offering, Miss Saei?"

Oh. Yeah. Very much. The urge is strong in him. The heat in her own body surges at the confirmation.

She smiles up at him, and moves in to let her bare chest touch his vest.

"After all the dire warnings, I'm terribly curious about what it is that happens once I'm alone with a man. Maybe you could show me. After you teach me Detect Magic."

"Detect Magic?"

He could ask why, but he finds he doesn't care. He's already resolved on the point that a girl smart enough to learn magic would never put herself in this situation. So it doesn't matter which spell he tries to teach her.

"Fine. You have a deal, Miss Saei."

Then he grabs her waist, pulls her closer, and bends down to suck on her tits.

Gamila has a lot of tit, for her age.

His warm hands on her bare body, his mouth on her chest, his tongue on her nipple. It feels startlingly, shockingly good. Good like she's imagined, but also good in a way that creeps over her flesh and makes her heart pound and her head go wobbly in a way even her most intense self-pleasure sessions haven't. If this is how that feels, she can understand why even women who decide not to do this sometimes do it anyway.

"A-After. I said a-after."

She is being pedantic. She doesn't actually want him to stop.

"I'm good for it~" Stupid whore has no idea how long it takes to learn a spell. Figures.

Unless she physically fights him, he's going to move her back and push her down onto the narrow but plush recliner-bed, then quickly strip out of his own clothing and get on top of her.

Gamila knows which hole goes to her womb.

As long as he avoids that she's up for pretty much anything.

Omlar is not very creative and is in fact going straight for penetrative sex with no foreplay.

His hot, blunt, throbbing member is at her gates, and pushing in.

Shit!

Oh fuck that feels good.

But shit!

She was in a hurry; she never actually specified that she wanted to limit things to only whatever two girls or two boys could do together, since she knows that is safe.

This is not safe. The idea of a baby growing in her belly is repugnant, and terrifying.

Not terrifying enough to dampen her ardor, though. And a removed, abstract corner of her mind quietly marvels at how beautiful that disastrous fact about herself is. Pride in herself stands against fear like one shining hero against an undead army, in that far corner of her mind.

Much more present is the thought that, she now has nine months to become enough of a wizard to be absolutely sure she'll never give birth. However that works. She only knows rumors that it's even a thing. But she can't back out now. She has to follow through and learn how spells. That is now urgent.

And even if she wanted to back out, even if she could back out without upsetting Mister Narvet...

...it would sicken her. She'd hate herself. She doesn't even understand why (yet), but she would.

(Because by not backing out she is defying the cruel grasp of the oppressive incentive-structure that would withhold her ideals from her.

Metal.

Pointless, when aimed at nature and natural consequence, rather than at an agent of that incentive-structure. But still. Metal.)

Omlar pumps into her at a steady pace, rocking against her, thoroughly enjoying the feel of her body under him.

He's deliberately selfish, using her body, chasing his own pleasure with no concern for hers. He's trying on purpose to wake her up to the harsh reality of what she's gotten herself into.

He feels vaguely cheated when it doesn't work.

It hits different, being taken. Feeling her pleasure rise and crest and explode outside of her own control. Riding the experience rather than driving it.

She's disappointed when it ends, even though she's gotten more pleasure out of it than he has. She can feel the powerful spasming of his manhood inside her and knows that must be his own pleasure cresting and exploding. She's not sure what part of this process is the proverbial 'man plants his seed in woman's womb' but she figures it has to be some part of it, and it could easily be this part.

Her resolve only grows stronger. She wants this again. She wants more of this. She wants this without the fear. And she wants it for everyone, not just herself.

Omlar looks down at the sweaty, flushed, very satisfied-looking girl under him, and shoves her off the recliner-bed, onto the floor. (There is a comfy rug.)

He turns and flops into the vacated space, sprawling out as he catches his breath.

She's hardly expecting any better from him, so whatever.

She sits on the rug and looks up at him demurely.

No, actually, she gets up and gets on top of him. He looks too tired to go again but his body is objectively more comfortable than the floor. She swings a leg over him and straddles his pubes.

Also, draping herself over him puts her in arm's reach of his spellbook. She grabs it and props it on his shoulder, giving him an expectant smile.

Yeah, yeah. He knows.

He shifts her a bit, so they can both hold and see the pages of the book. It's cuddly. He doesn't acknowledge the cuddliness.

"Detect Magic. So the first thing you need to do..."

(Spellcraft: 20)

She only has a couple of hours before the mail depot closes and her father will expect to bring her home.

It turns out those hours are not enough time to hang her very first spell. Especially when she ends up riding her teacher's manhood and then bending over the worktable for him. As fascinating and important as learning the spell is, sex is... what it's all for. Or something.

However, when she eventually has Mister Narvet clean her up with a Prestidigitation, puts her clothes on, and sneaks back to the depot, she does leave with several pieces of absolutely critical knowledge: What a scaffold is and what it's for. Magic's five-dimensional nature. What 'topology' means and from that, what a spell's 'circle' is. What a 'balancing point' is.

Tiny drips of knowledge, but each illuminating the previously blank space of how a wizard prepares spells. They didn't get as far as actually trying to hang the complete spell in one of her spell slots, but now that she knows what a spell is in any meaningful sense, she already can kind of see in her mind how that might work.

The looming threat of pregnancy keeps her from bouncing in excitement, but she feels like she's finally moving after sitting stagnant for months.

The mail depot is currently in a tizzy.

Several voices are calling out Gamila's name.

Thankfully, this does not seem like the kind of tizzy where they've been frantically searching for a missing teenage girl for two hours. Rather, it seems more like the sort of tizzy where they've only been looking for her for a couple of minutes, having decided to close up for the night only to then notice she wasn't where she was supposed to be.