The new priest is, to put it as bluntly as I can, fucking annoying. Yes, he's only as old as I am, but it seems like he hasn't learned any humility, decency, or even common sense. Even slummers learn that by now. I repeatedly must tell him that I don't like to be touched, yet he insists on it anyways. And now, he won't leave me alone when I am trying to study.
 
I brush some dust off of my monk's robes and turn to stare at him. At the least, he's like many others who can't look me in the eye for very long. Small comforts. "Seishak, all this reading is going to make your mind rot. All you ever do is read, study, and write notes. Learn to lighten up. Have some fun..." His hand caresses my arm, and I jerk it away as violently as I can. His idea of 'fun' involves far too much mess and effort than I'm willing to put up with, even setting aside my dislike of being touched by other people long enough to go through with it.
 
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave. If you don't, I may need to take drastic measures. You may be a priest while I'm only a monk, but you're forgetting your place. I have magic, you don't." In Solcan's temple, it's a requirement for priests to have magic... but here in Rydal's, the only necessary thing to become a priest or a monk is the willingness to kill - consistently, mercifully, and on a regular basis. Some of the older monks have driven themselves mad with their own guilt. It's never actually bothered me all that much.
 
The reminder to the priest is a blow to his ego. I might not be a powerful mage, but compared to someone without magic, it's more than enough to negate our heirarchy differences. I can see him nod and leave, but even with this small confrontation taken care of, I know I haven't seen the last of him.
 
I return to my studies, with full intent on resuming where I'd left off, but there's a piece of old parchment stuck between the pages. It's nearly falling apart, but I pull it out to take a look at the diagram scribbled on. Maybe this will be just what I need to take care of the annoying priest.
 
***
 
"Still studying?" Only a few hours after our last encounter. I'm not surprised at all to find him coming back in, a smug look on his face. I've copied and modified the diagram slightly, using the extra time to double-check for errors and inconsistencies. It's a simple matter to let my magic flow through the complex system of lines, curves, circles and symbols that channel and instruct it. This priest had his fate coming to him for long enough, and it's only fitting that I send him off.
 
In the center of the diagram, my target shows up - shrunken down to a more manageable size. He can't be too much taller than my thumb, and he appears to be oblivious to what's going on for a first few seconds. I smile and pick him up by the robes, so *happy* to see any look on his face besides the one that sees me as a sexual object. The fact that it's fear doesn't bother me. I'm a monk of Rydal's order - most people fear me, because my presence usually means their death.
 
"Now, it would be so easy for me to crush you in my hands like this, and somewhat fitting. But again, that's easy. It also leaves evidence behind, and it's far too quick for someone like you. So, since you seem to want to be 'inside' me so much, I'll give you your wish." I intentionally leave the innuendo open, licking my lips at the thought.
 
He tries to say something, but I'm not interested in listening. Especially not when all he's going to be doing is pleading for his life. "Shh, it won't take too long. Just relax and it will be over with soon enough." His tiny arms and legs kick around, and I give him another smile, this one as soothing as I can.
 
I open my mouth slightly, giving him a thorough lick to see how he tastes. Just because I'm making sure he doesn't bother me again doesn't mean I can't enjoy the process. Especially since he tastes good - a mix of the dark, bitter and spicy chocolate that I'm fond of and a hint of salt. His hands shove against my tongue, and I can't resist putting him in my mouth entirely.
 
The tiny body shifts around on my tongue, trying in vain to stand up or grab onto something. Each step he takes spreads the subtle flavor further around my mouth, and I know he's getting soaked in my saliva, but I can't help it. I shove him up to the roof of my mouth, running my tongue slowly over him to savor him while I can.
 
One of the library doors slams shut, and the sound is enough to startle me and make my tiny meal slip down towards the back of my throat. I nearly choke, but his self-preservation actually works in my favor as he manages to grab hold of one of my molars. My tongue lifts him up, carrying him to the back of my throat where I can feel his feet kicking to try and keep me from swallowing. It doesn't work, because once I make that first swallow, his feet are trapped.
 
I rub at my throat a little as I swallow again, feeling the outline of his body underneath my skin as he's worked down into my belly. His struggles are delightfully ticklish, and as soon as I'm able to start breathing again I even let out a short laugh and a quiet hum of pleasure. It's easy to tell when he falls into my empty stomach, because he starts moving around again. The little fists beating at my insides are hardly noticeable, but what I can feel isn't painful at all. The sensation is even... somewhat nice.
 
"There you go. Safe and warm inside of me, just like you wanted," I say quietly to my stomach, patting it lightly. Maybe now I can actually get some work done.