SECOND NIGHT
Alissya watched as her husband, the King, was married to a new wife from her covered, canopied seat on the sideline of the proceedings, and smiled. Never before had she had so much freedom, and as the King retreated to his somber bridal suite with his sobbing little girl of the night, she rose to motion to the servants. A grand feast was collected from the kitchens and set out in mere moments.
Massive trestle tables groaned under the weight of literal tons of food. There was roast suckling pig, steaming with apple in its mouth, surrounded by greens and potatoes. Lobster lay on platters by the dozen, dishes of butter all around, along with scallops, caviar, shrimp, and chocolate ganaches delicately arranged on little trays. Asparagus and snappeas lay amidst creamy garlic sauces; overflowing baskets of fruit lay at every corner. Whole stuffed turkeys sat there, leaking their bready, headily-scented filling, accompanied side by side by smaller, similiarly stuffed chickens; and a massive venison roast juicing eagerly onto its silver platter.
Dried figs and dates lay in dishes next to raisins, sugared pineapple, oranges, and pieces of banana cooked in caramel sauce with cream. Pitchers of cold water, colder milk, hot cider, hot coffee, and fresh grape juice were on every table at regular intervals. Corn cobs were piled onto a tray next to a basket of glistening, steaming rolls. Date wine was flowing freely from the fountain that had been specially designated for this purpose. Dyed pistachios in the royal colors - red and purple - lay patterened in a vast crystal dish, to show the symbol of the Commonwealth, the sphere with the star inside of it. Melon was sliced in artistic shapes and fashioned into birds and flowers, next to real flower centerpieces who wafted gentle nightblossom perfumes over the tables.
The servants were bringing in benches, and chairs for the High Table, where the best wine was, and as Alissya surveyed the hall with a pleased smile, she nodded.
This was her kingdom.
****
Lilith did not go to the feast.
After his bath he had gotten dressed again; properly in skirts and corset - and paying attention this time - she went to the library as her usual self, to try and study some, or so she wanted people to think. What she really needed was some alone time to think things over.
The problem running around in her head was a circular one. It started with being a boy, and then went to Kane knowing that, which led to Kane wanting him, which led to Kane kissing him, which led to him wanting Kane, which led back to the problem of him being a boy under the corset, petticoats, and fancy horn hair combs.
But the library did not serve its usual purpose of calming and distracting her. Instead, it made her all the more irritated, for being surrounded by her friends and realizing how useless all her reading and research was in a situation like this.
This one came down to nothing more than gut instinct, and doing what had to be done. With a sigh, she pushed hair behind one ear, and leaned against the table. What to do, what to do?
What COULD she do? More importantly, what could he do to keep up the pretense that he was a she at all? And with every passing moment, his father lost to madness, he was starting to wonder more and more why he bothered to lie about it anyway. But the problem lie with Kane, more than with his masquerade. And it had little to do with Kane's threat of blackmail, and everything to do with how conflicted and downright interested in Kane in a sexual way... which he was supposed to ignore. He was a girl. Supposedly. So maybe getting distracted with a man would be fortuitous. Was he intended to be a girl? Was that why? WAS he Lilith come back, hiding in a boy's body, hiding in a girl's seeming? Was there any real way to tell?
An insidious idea had crept into his head. The northerners would doubtless not stay. Maybe when they left he could accompany them. But that was taking a great many things for granted, assuming that Kane wanted more than some illicit, perverted sex with a prince in disguise, not to mention presuming that leaving the palace would be any kind of good decision... it was all so confusing. Lilith, who had never felt this way before, had no idea what to do, how to deal with this mess. There was no reason he should be attracted to another man, much less a man whom he barely knew, who was extorting kisses and soon much more from him.
With a groan, he threw himself back in his chair, scowling fiercely. It was then that he noticed the growing darkness outside, and he groaned, running a hand through his hair nervously. Duty hauled him to his feet, or so he told himself, and he left the library, making his way back toward his suite of rooms with a somber, heavy tread, heart filled with solemn dread.
********
The night was not so balmy this time, clouds looming overhead, tinged red from below from all the lights of the great capitol city. Humidity threatened in the air, the rains that came every day since the Great Cataclysm were back with a vengeance, and thunder rumbled in the distance, lightning flashing out over the ocean, and quickly coming toward shore.
Kane did not mind the promise of foul weather. At home, it did not rain with much regularity, and when it did, it was usually cold enough that it was snow rather than real rain anyway. He sat perched on the balcony's edge, eyes shut and nose quivering at the electric charge in the air. It would have been dark out just because of the storm, even if the sun were still centered high in the sky. The wind whipped his hair around his face, and pulled at the fur of his tail, but still he waited for his prince there.
The boy was not as late as Kane would have expected. When Lilith stumbled out of the balcony door, shielding his eyes with one painted hand, Kane grinned and leapt down. "Perhaps you could invite me inside, princess," he greeted, loving the blush that spread over Lilith's pale cheeks. But the boy, still in skirts and corset, stepped back and pulled the door open for him to come in, not meeting his gaze as the feline northerner strolled into his room as though he had -every- reason to be there. Kane surveyed the room with one eyebrow lifted, shaking his head. Vanity, countless combs and ointments, clothes everywhere... a cat on the bed....
That made him smile. The idea that Lilith was already predisposed toward cats was definitely a pleasing one; it had promise for the future. Because as he glanced back at his little princess, seeing her demurely avoid his gaze, he knew that no matter how much information he got out of this pretty little crossdresser, he would still sleep him with him. Maybe even keep him. But those were thoughts for later. For now, he had groundwork to lay.
Lilith's mind was racing. Here he was, alone in his room with the sole sane person who knew he was a he. The silence stretched out until he could no longer keep control, and he finally glanced up at Kane, biting his lip. The expression on the man's face was a hungry one, one that earned a flush from Lilith as he looked away, unable to face the desire that was plain in his eyes. That gave Kane all the opportunity he needed, and he stepped forward quickly, to pull Lilith against his chest and kiss him, hard and insistent.
Letting out a muffled squeak, Lilith pushed ineffectively at his chest, but without any real sincerity, whimpering into Kane's lips before folding against him and kissing back shyly. The feel of Kane's tongue invading his mouth filled his head with memories of the dream he had had the night before, and he jerked away with a cry, panting heavily. Kane frowned, touching his cheek.
"What's wrong?" he murmured, sliding his fingers into Lilith's hair, marveling at its softness. Lilith flushed scarlet, and looked away, Kane's proximity doing strange things to his insides.
"You should not be here," Lilith said softly, shivering, and made the mistake of glancing up at him again. He barely had time to realize Kane was moving closer, and then their lips were crushed together again, and he could barely breathe for the heat and consuming need of Kane's kiss. Fingers laced with his, Kane's hands warm and connecting, and Lilith bit back a moan, unable to contain the wild spark of lightning dancing through his veins.
"Of course I should be here. I -am- courting a princess, after all," Kane laughed, smirking at him and cupping the back of his neck, savoring the embarrassed look that flashed over Lilith's painted face. "I might even ask your father for your hand in marriage."
Lilith could only stare at him, stunned. The very idea was - was - but.... a husband who would corroborate his story.... biting his lip, he could barely shake his head. "I-it's too early to talk of marriage, thank you, no matter WHAT kind of leverage you think you hold over me."
Smirking, Kane slid his other hand around Lilith's waist, down to his ass. "Then it's a good thing you can't get pregnant, my princess, because I'm definitely going to fuck you before the wedding." Mostly he said it for the priceless look on that pretty pale face, which was even better than he had expected - wide eyes, spreading blush, plush lips parting to protest. With a chuckle he squeezed the softness under his hand.
"H-how dare you speak to me like that- how, how dare you - get your hands off me," was the weak denial that was all Lilith could muster. After that dream last night all he could think about was Kane, those hands being -on- him, and the very idea that he could want this was as much anathema as was letting anyone be so vulgar to him, groping him like a common whore. And yet there was so little heat he could muster for rage; it was all gone to lust, all his strength and fire having deserted his wits for Want instead. With a shake of his head to galvanize himself he batted at Kane's hands, but the feline was insistent, and did not let go.
"And pass up on this? Not a chance, my pretty princess," Kane purred, kneading his ass in a very cat like way, an insufferable smirk on his face. All too clearly he could hear the ragged, affected edge to Lilith's breathing; the blush that crawled down his cheeks to his neck and then under his shirt no doubt spread even lower. "Remember just where you stand with me, hmmm? Just try to enjoy it. It might be the most fun thing you've ever done, if you do."
Whining, Lilith squirmed in his grip, not liking the way his body was reacting, and liking even less the possessive, hungry look on Kane's face, that said Lilith belong to him now, and he was only claiming him slowly to toy with him, as cats toyed with mice. A whimper escaped him as one of those roving hands slid lower, between his legs from behind, to grope him more insistently, and it was not until he felt a breeze on his leg that he realized that Kane was pulling up his skirts. "S-stop that!" he cried, struggling, but Kane only pulled him closer, chest to chest, using the hand still pressed somewhere very inappropriate to keep him where he wanted.
"Not a chance. I want to see what belongs to me, and I want to see it without all these ridiculous layers. I knew you were a boy the first time I smelled you." Dropping the skirts, he went for the corset's laces instead, savoring the humiliation on Lilith's face when he rubbed him through his skirts. "No hiding something like that from me, pretty. Now are you going to behave, and let me take your clothes off? Or are you going to be a bad little princess? Because I am definitely not above punishing naughty princesses." That smile was pure lechery. Lilith found his stomach twisting and his cock twitching all at the same time.
"D-d-d-don't you dare," Lilith protested, but he stopped fighting him, and let Kane undo the lacing of his corset. Those long fingers trailed up his back teasingly, and when the corset finally fell away, they remained, tracing designs on him through the thin, billowy fabric of his shirt. Shivering, the boy tried to step away then, but the hands skated downward, to push all his skirts down at once, leaving his feet trapped in many layers, but the rest of him clothed only in pretty, ruffly, girly panties. Mortified, Lilith tried to grab his skirts up again, but Kane stopped him, picking him up to deposit him on the bed.
"Look at these," he purred, hooking fingers in the waistband of those panties, earning a horrified look from Lilith, accompanied by a pleading whimper. "My, my. My little princess, pretty as she is...." Kane smirked, licking his thigh and savoring the ensuing squeak, "does not in fact fit in to her panties!" The boy's erection strained at the fabric obscenely, and Lilith could only whine and try to avoid any more of the hands that he kept telling himself were so unwanted.
"No lying to me, little boy, I can see what you want." Kane was not about to show him mercy; he pulled the panties off all at once, tugging them down to bind his ankles with them. "Your lips can lie but this certainly can't," he laughed, and licked at the wonderful scent of Lilith's need, avoiding the obvious.
Gasping at the feel of cold air on his hard cock, Lilith whined, and squirmed, but Kane's hands were strong, and he was pinned to the bed without any hope of getting up. He didn't want this! He couldn't. It was wrong, oh so wrong, but oh, god, it felt so good... And that was all before Kane's demanding tongue found him properly. Crying out, he thrashed in that ruthless grip, mewling with pleasure when that hot, wet mouth enfolded him completely. It did not take long to make the boy lose control; after all, he had never so much as touched himself before, much less felt the touch of another anywhere nearly so sensitive. And at his age, the age by which most were married already, for to have no release until then... well. Kane was not surprised by the ease of which he got Lilith to come, and, relishing the taste, he licked the boy clean afterward, still purring. Lilith could only lie there, whimpering, eyes wide and unseeing where he stared up at the ceiling. Smirking, Kane sat back, licking his lips, and eyed him smugly.
"Now. I do believe that makes it your turn," he crooned, waiting for the look on Lilith's face. He got it as the boy sat up like a bolt, terrified.
"No! I can h-hardly do - do that!!" he nearly wailed, and Kane couldn't keep from laughing.
"Then you're going to have to even things out some other way, hmm?" Kane said with a wicked grin, tugging on a lock of Lilith's hair.
"But... but that -was- evening it out... that was for.... for you not... not telling," Lilith protested, squirming.
"Oh, no. When I make you feel good it is hardly you doing ME any favors. You have to make me feel good. Fortunately for you I know how you can do that." Removing his shirt, Kane laughed, loving the blush on that pale skin, the nervous light in his eyes. "Because you simply must obey me, and it would do you very well indeed not to forget that, hmm?"
Wincing, Lilith nodded brokenly, and bit his lip, trying not to look at all that fair skin. "Right. What... what do you want me to do?" Since he was refusing to watch, he did not realize that Kane had taken off his pants as well. This time he did not resist when the man pulled him into his lap - at least until he felt skin against skin. Yelping, Lilith wriggled, but that only earned him a tighter hold, pressed against Kane's chest, that insistent hardness firmly poking into his thigh, dangerously close to its ultimate goal.
"Mmm. Just keep still, for now, my princess," Kane laughed, and kissed him again, wrapping one arm firmly around his waist. That was all it took to keep him where he wanted him; when his other hand snuck down to grope Lilith's ass again, the boy tried to squirm away and could get nowhere. "I want to touch you."
Panting, Lilith pushed against his chest weakly. "N-not there, not - " He squealed, struggling fiercely now, but there was no escape. Kane's hand was firmly wedged between his cheeks, finger tips poking lightly at his balls, kneading and massaging, and Lilith felt his face flame. There was no way to get away.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do, princess," came the warning, purred and too gentle for the way Kane was touching him. "I get to do what ever I want with you. And the more you fight me, the more fun I get to have making you. Do you understand me? You are -mine- now. No way out. I am going to touch you here. Often. More importantly I am going to stuff my cock in this pretty, tight little hole of yours," and one finger pressed dryly against him, earning a cry, "and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop me. Fortunately for you, I believe in training first, so before I do I get to teach you just how happy you should be to have me touching - and fucking, and owning - you."
Lilith barely heard him. That hand did not go away, and it hurt, and something was trying to poke inside, and there, and it was all he could do not to start screaming and kicking and not care who found them. His struggling was doing him no good, but a moment later, there was a wetness with the hand on his ass, and the finger trying to penetrate him slid in with sudden ease. Lilith squealed, and tried to jerk away, but again it was of no use. One insistent finger, slippery now, was hard to deny, and the pain was not even very noticeable. Lilith would have preferred it if it hurt, honestly, just so he could remember how bad this was. Was supposed to be. It felt disgusting, of course, but for some reason once Kane's finger was buried in him, arm keeping him tight against that strong chest, it ceased to matter at all, and he could only muffle a moan. Suddenly the hardness of Kane's cock against his leg was not repulsive but intruiging, and his squirming went from terrified escape attempt to aroused and eager, little body rocking in Kane's hold. The northerner swore hastily, and tried to still him, but damn, the sight of the boy wiggling like that - the idea that he was so turned around by pleasure that he would do such wonderful things... well, it made Kane's erection even more insistent where it leaked against that soft, soft skin. In fact once Lilith started to move he bit his tongue and tried to encourage him to keep going. The only thing he could think to do was, in retrospect, possibly a bad decision, but in that state of mind Kane was no genius. Without any warning a second finger found the first in that slippery hole, and stuffed them both in.
With a shriek, Lilith stiffened, feeling suddenly split in half. That was oh so much, and once again Kane was kneading, but now, with those twin fingers stuffed into her and moving with every motion of his hand, well, now it was a little more distracting. The pain was nothing compared to the sick pleasure of being full, and of being full there. Lilith wanted to fight it, but there was no way he could. So he simply kept squirming, mewling soon at the wonderful feeling of it, hard all over again and well aware that Kane was rocking against him as well by now.
It did not take very long at all of that feeling to make Kane remember just how long it had been for him, after all this traveling through a foreign land where men of his persuasion were so rare. Later he would swear that was the only reason he had come so soon, and that it had little to do with the gorgeous, whimpering, squirming little prince in his lap, but they both knew the truth. Lilith, wrapped up in the amazing rush of sensations both on his skin and under it, was pulled along with him, and neither of them heard themselves scream as they climaxed.
It took Lilith a long time to remember where he was, after, but when he tried to move, the feeling of those fingers inside of him was more than reminder enough. Gasping, he squirmed away, something Kane no longer fought. He was sticky, and messy. Making a face, he shifted to roll off the bed.
Frowing, Kane looked after him, a glassy expression on his face. "Where are you going?" he mumbled.
"To take a bath. You made me -quite- sticky," he answered disapprovingly, but when Kane rose to follow him, he did not protest.
***************
Alissya lay in her vast, empty bed, well stuffed from the feast, and sighed with contentment. The day had gone just as planned, and here she laid, unvisited by her husband who was probably leaving his new bride about now. Sleep danced around the edges, sparing no time for the plans she wanted to nurse. The whole day had been very exhausting, and it was but moments before she found herself dreaming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
THIRD DREAM
Alissya
The Tale of Tristan and the Magic Book of Spells
or
HOW TO SUMMON AN INCUBUS
The book Tristan had found was full of treasures, little spells to make life easier and more amusing. An invisibility spell, a karmic retribution incantation... all of these things left Tris twitching with anticipation for the moment he could truly use them. Leave it to his mum to write these spells when she was his age. He half suspected she'd left the book where he could find it intentionally, just to let him fiddle around. None of them seemed very dangerous. There was only one that really made Tris feel like his stomach would try to leap out of his mouth.
The summoning was simple, ridiculously so - a circle, a calling, the waiting. Tristan was not so sure he believed in demons, but the book said (in his mum's ridiculously illegible handwriting) that this kind of demon were usually very friendly and had no interest in causing harm to the one who had called to them. There was more, but it was faded and beyond comprehension. Something in the back of his mind warned Tris that any information missing from the notations of a demon summons might be highly important, and without it this could be dangerous. However, he was not a teenaged boy for nothing, and that worried little voice of reason was readily ignored in favor of the promise of this adventure.
Here in the crystal room, he knew he could manage this kind of a complicated spell. The whole room was shaped and sculpted for the amplification of power, and already laid into the floor in silver was a pentagram. Painstakingly drawn symbols were dull red chalk against the translucent crystal of the floor. One tiny globe of light hung from the center of the ceiling, reflected to give the room a brilliance to rival the sun. However, today its light was a deep ruddy amber, and so the glow was more that of a lazy summer sunset. The seven sided room was spacious, and today it thrummed with power as Tristan fetched the last of the candles from the ebony cabinets that took up three walls. Almost taller than his five feet, each candle was red as blood and smelled strongly of cinnamon and something else that made Tris' mouth water, though he could not place it. With meticulous care he arranged the candles at each point of the great star, stepping back and nodding slowly at the whole setup. Everything was right. He went over and checked everything, once, twice, three times, once correcting a single line of chalk, and finally lit the candles from a stick of incense before setting that at the opposite end of the circle.
Finally, he was satisfied. "Perfect," Tristan grinned widely, stepping back and planting his hands on his hips. Now there was but the ceremonial garb, which he had also luckily found in the cabinets. Scrambling out of his legging and tunic, he worked his way into the plain, unbleached cotton shift, stuffing his clothes away where they wouldn't interfere with anything. Grabbing the vial of catmint oil the spell said to keep on hand, he shut the cabinet and moved back to the edge of the circle. Bright hazel green eyes skimmed over everything one more time, and he nodded, pleased. Setting the bottle of oil down next to him, he swallowed and took a deep breath.
"Nan dya kish rian dam andias kaat. Miri an danai sata tato. Nan ya krish tadan. Mirian dana ishta," he intoned from memory, the voice just barely out of adolescence even and confident even as he fought not to fidget. Six times the book had said to repeat it, and so he did. Each time the words left his lips, the room got hotter. By the time Tristan finished, he was sweating. The candles flared, flames bulging and rising higher, until they licked the ceiling and Tris was shouting. Something was happening, that was for certain, and it kept going even after the spell was done. Red sand spun at the center of the circle, growing until it pressed against an invisible wall. The roaring screamed through the room, the very crystal humming with the vibration as the candle flames leapt and arced violently. Just as Tristan was about to try and dispel it all, it stopped, just like that. The screaming stopped, the humming drew to a close, and the candles stopped trying to catch the world on fire. And all at once, the sand vanished.
What it had been hiding was a great thing, with huge, leathery red wings caped around a tall, muscled male body. A remarkably human face smiled down at the boy, marked with handsome features and coal black eyebrows and hair from which two little horns poked out cutely. A long, twisting tail arched through the air and wound around his thigh. The demon looked almost completely human, except that it was red and winged and wearing leather pants. Well, not that humans didn't wear leather pants, but they did not look as good, because this was not just any demon. It was an incubus, and Tristan didn't even have a clue.
*****
Balendir had not been expecting a summons today, or even the open invitation that had come humming down to the darkest levels of the Courts. But, intruiged by the power behind the request, he took up the offer and followed the portal to the crystal room.
The sight that greeted his eyes was strange and welcome all at once. A boy, certainly no more than thirteen, positively lovely - fair skin, long chestnut waves of hair, and glittering eyes of green and gold - just standing there, that beautiful gaze stunned, almost as though the child had not expected to see anything at all answer his call, much less the impressive sight that was Balendir.
Odd, the demon mused, that this call would invoke his male aspect, and not his female. Particularly since it had been issued by a teenaged human boy, which were notorious for their needs. Some scholars of his race thought their kind might have been INVENTED by teenaged boys. But this one seemed different. Innocent, somehow. Balendir could smell it on him; the heady, intoxicating scent of that innocence filled the room and he licked his lips, forked tongue black as night.
It was the sight of that tongue that sparked Tristan out of his stunned observation of the demon, but he shook himself out and a brilliant smile spread over his face. "Hi! I'm Tristan. Sorry to haul you here, but I had to see if the spell would work. I can let you go if you're busy. What's your name? Do you know my mother? I got the spell from her book, see."
It was all Balendir could do not to laugh. "Slow down," he advised, voice deep and promising, sending a strange shiver down Tris' back. "You did not... haul me. I answered the invitation you extended, and as it was to any of my kind, I cannot guarantee that I have answered this call before." The kid was bouncing where he stood, so excited it made Balendir's teeth hurt. "You may call me Baal."
Tristan nodded eagerly, eyes bright. He had done it! He had really conjured a demon! This was amazing! His sister Rhapsody would doubtlessly refuse to believe this. "So you didn't know my mum, then... it's really nice to meet you, Baal. You can sit down if you don't want to leave," he said hopefully. Conversation with a demon! Oh, yes, this was so cool. "Get comfortable."
Get comfortable. Balendir felt the power of the circle sapping away with those words, and he smiled just a little bit. Ahh, how ignorant, this one, to say those things so easily. He did sit, though, wings folding against his back as he settled down. To give a demon any freedoms when he might turn against you... ah, yes, a fool indeed. Balendir would make quite the prize of him. "And if I do wish to leave?"
"Well, then you can go, I guess," Tristan said, a pout threatening his full lips. "I don't want to keep you here if you really don't want to be here." Glancing up at him hopefully, Tris inwardly hoped very dearly that he could get Baal to stick around for a bit.
"How generous you are," Balendir murmured. "Why do you wish me to stay?" The obvious reason - at least, to Balendir - had hardly even crossed Tristan's mind.
"Because chatting up a demon is bad ass. And I am really bored," Tristan confessed with easy honesty, a grin crossing his face.
"Do you know what kind of demon I am?" Balendir inquired, amused.
Tristan bit his lip, tilting his head in thought. "No?" he finally said, smiling sheepishly. "What kind?"
"I am an incubus. Perhaps you have heard of my kind," Balendir smirked, taking in the sight of the boy with a bone deep hunger. Oh, but to ravage such sweetness... a delicious promise.
"Nope," Tristan chirped, shaking his head as he, too, sank to the ground. "I haven't, actually. What do you do?"
...Oh, this was too perfect. Balendir chuckled and smiled wickedly, which was probably the first indication Tristan got that this was a little bit more than what he had bargained for. "Incubi and succubi - our female aspects - are sex demons. We are conjured for... services."
Tristan nearly choked, eyes huge as his jaw dropped open. "Wh- what?!"
"Yes, little one. Your mama summoned my kind so they could fuck her. Although I doubt that is why you called me here," Balendir purred, loving the panic and yes, sudden desire rolling off the boy. "Or is it?"
If he had been standing, Tristan would have taken a step back. His head was spinning and it was all he could do to remember to breathe, swallowing hard. "N-no!" he protested. "I didn't know!"
"Do you want to?" Balendir wondered, chuckling a little and not making any threatening movements. "Know, that is?"
"No!" Tristan yelped, scrambling to his feet. "No, I do not!" His protests were vehement and fierce, but even as he spoke, doubt curled in. Desire, heat, hormones - the whole lot of them had to wonder. Like hell if he wanted to have sex... but there was the hunger for knowledge there. As well as contact... sensation... something.
"I see," the demon said calmly, smiling slightly. "Please, relax. I will not touch you if you do not wish me to."
Tristan stared at him, shifting a bit nervously. "Well.... alright. And if I want to send you home?"
"Then I will go," Balendir assured him, spreading his hands out and dipping his head in acquiescence.
"Well, okay, then," Tristan said, recapturing his composure and straightening a bit. "'Cause I don't want to. Um. Lose it yet."
Balendir merely smiled. "Perfectly understandable." But there was still the smell of arousal there, the inkling of desire. "But there are steps between desire and... losing it, as you put it."
Torn between blushing and asking more questions, Tristan chewed his lip and finally nodded a little. "I guess." He did not have a clue as to what those steps were. "But I don't... really, um. Know what exactly it is you're talking about."
"And yet you want to," Balendir purred, smiling a little. "If you can admit it to yourself, I can give you what you want." In that moment he looked more like a lounging panther than the demon he was, a lazy smirk on his face.
Tristan swallowed, hard. "It's kind of scary," he finally said, twisting his fingers together behind his back, eyes trained on the floor.
"The unknown is always feared," Balendir murmured, shifting to rise to his knees. "So perhaps the only answer is to learn."
One eyebrow twitched upward, and Tristan snorted. "You are good," he confessed, grinning and shaking his head. "Just what do you want to do to me?" The thought made something in his stomach twist, something dark and burning with anticipation.
The demon smiled slowly. Hook, line, and sinker. The boy was his, and the very thought of what he would do to the boy inspired his tongue to flick out over his lips hungrily. "I could strip you and lick... touch." Slowly he rose to his feet, tail coiling with anticipation. "Anywhere you want."
Trying to pretend that he was NOT reacting on a very base level to those words, Tristan swallowed. "And... no more than I want?" he said slowly, nervously. Balendir's smile did not fail
"Of course. You must merely say the words," the incubus assured the boy, extending one hand just inside the circle. "But you must also come close enough to... touch." The lustful smirk on his face made Tristan's insides coil with anxiousness and anticipation.
"Right," the boy agreed, and took a few steps closer, having to remind himself to breathe as he approached the demon. "I want... to... to feel."
"Then I will make you feel," Balendir purred, and stepped right out of the circle to slide a hand around Tristan's shoulders, pulling him closer. The boy let out a squeak, startled by the incubus' movement. The circle was supposed to bind him! If he was freed, then could he be trusted at all? But the body he was now pressed against was hot and solid, powerful, and Tristan had to swallow a whimper. Balendir's hands were large and strong, smoothing over Tris' back, the unbleached cotton hardly a barrier at all against the searing heat of the demon's skin.
"H-how.." Tristan breathed, staring up at him, hands flying up to press against Baal's shoulders. "The circle!" There was no real effort in the squirming he engaged in, struggling just enough to test the demon's determination to hang onto him.
"You freed me from it a while ago," Balendir chuckled, giving Tristan enough space to duck out, should he wish, though the heat of his hands was now against the boy's lower back, making it somehow harder to breathe.
"...Oh," the boy nodded, making an effort to swallow. Okay. He could escape. Did he want to? Oh, hell if he knew. Wide eyes stared up at red skin, red eyes, that evil - and yes, now, he knew evil, he was wrapped in it - smirk... it was enough to make him shiver. But it was not the shiver of fear, but a strangled sort of need, and he splayed his hands over the muscles of the demon's chest, licking his lips and taking the step to close the distance.
Balendir tolerated this with a widening of that smirk, arms tightening as the boy came closer. Rather than speak, the incubus merely leaned down and trapped those parted, full lips in a searing kiss, claiming the untouched boy with ridiculous ease. The helpless whimper Tristan gave was swallowed down and savored by the demon; there was nothing sweeter than this. Tris himself was more than a little dizzied, letting that forked tongue delve into his mouth. Weird, the sensation, but the heat generated by it made him quiver and clutch at the diamond-hard skin under his fingers. When Baal finally pulled back, smirking, Tristan half thought he would fall over, the world spinning. The look on that sweet face - glassy eyes, swollen lips, flushed cheeks - positively delicious. "Feeling anything yet?" Balendir chuckled, one hand rising to slide into the wild mass of Tristan's hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp.
With another little whimper, Tristan swayed, eyes threatening to shut. Damn, he had inherited the family curse. Leave it to the demon to touch his hair. "Y-yeah," he breathed.
"Do you want more?" Balendir pressed, smiling and pulling Tristan harder against him, hand slipping over the curve of his back to grip his ass and draw him closer, grinding them together slowly and relishing the startled gasp that escaped Tristan's lips.
"Aah~!" Tris yelped, arching under that touch. Baal was hard, and so was he, and Tris could FEEL it, pressed against his belly like some dark promise, trapped under leather. The boy dared to look up at the demon, eyes wide. "Th-that's..."
"Feels good, does it not?" Balendir smirked, and let go of Tristan, fingers trailing down the boy's arms and taking his hands, guiding them toward the laces on his pants. "You can feel it, should you wish." He watched the boy lick his lips, fingers twitching as he hesitantly took hold of the ends, bringing a smirk to Balendir's lips. Little tugs slowly pulled the laces out of their knot, and the leather loosened.
Pausing, Tristan looked up at Baal a bit nervously, opened his mouth as though to speak, and then shut it again, nodding slowly as he tugged on the leather to loosen those pants. The demon's hands slid down to help, working the tight hide down to free a pulsing erection, so dark a red it was almost black, its thick base throttled by ebon curls. A startled look crossed Tris' face, quickly followed by one of hunger as he took stock of that sight. Damn.
Again Balendir reached out, catching at Tristan's hands. "He does not bite," the incubus said, a smirk twitching his lips upward as he drew those fair skinned hands to his cock. He heard the boy's breath catch in his throat, and he knew why, seeing the stunned wideness of Tris' eyes. Thick and hard and... hot. Burning. It was all Tristan could do not to yank back, but Baal would not let him, those big hands pressing his own little ones against that throbbing monster.
"What if I want him to?" Tristan shot back, worked into a strange mood, where fear left him for a quaking moment. He knew he was grinning impishly, and was rewarded by the demon's sudden burst of laughter.
"Then he will," Balendir growled, and ducked down, biting at Tristan's shoulder sharply. A harsh gasp escaped the boy as he arched, breathless laughter in its wake, and suddenly the hard heat in his hand wasn't nearly as threatening, and Tris began to skate his fingers over it curiously, feeling empowered at the growl the incubus gave against his skin. Teeth grazed his neck and he quivered, wrapping his hands around that cock and stroking it hesitantly, slowly, his hands barely able to encircle it completely.
"Good," Tristan murmured, head tilting back to allow those sharp teeth access to the thin, delicate skin of his throat, shivering at the low hiss of hot breath on his neck as he explored his prize with only the sensation of touch, finding ridges and veins and heat, everywhere the heat.
Finally Balendir pushed him away firmly. "Enough of that," he said roughly, the purpled head of that cock slick and leaking with its own juices. Tristan reluctantly let go, grinning a bit at the fun of teasing the demon.
"But you're so cute when you growl," the boy retorted, smirking impishly.
Balendir fixed him with an even stare. "Teasing me will end with you flat on your belly, impaled on this," he warned, one hand wrapping around that monstrosity of an erection. "Is that what you want?"
Tristan's mouth went dry, and he had to swallow a couple times to banish that mental image and the overpowering rush of heat that went with it. He didn't really want to, or so he thought, but then, the very idea... oh, it was so hot. "I...." he hedged.
The incubus was only a bit surprised, but he smiled and chuckled. "Of course. Now strip. It is your turn," he said with a lazy flick of one hand. "You wanted to feel, after all."
Hesitation again slowed Tristan's hands as he reached for the hem of the shift, pulling it off slowly and revealing a gangly, lean young man's frame, short and slender, his own erection bobbing against his belly proudly. A flush stained his cheeks and as he dropped the shift to the floor, he folded his arms over his chest. He knew he was hardly anything nice to look at.
Balendir, however, disagreed. That body, verging on adulthood but not quite; the shy stance, the uncertainty on his face... the lust underlying it all, spurring him on... a masterpiece, this one. The demon stepped closer, catching Tristan by the shoulders and pulling him down, settling on the floor and yanking the boy into his lap. Tris tumbled with a squeak, clutching at broad shoulders to keep his balance. "H-hey!" he protested, squirming, hyper aware of the cock pressed against his thigh and ass. Merely chuckling, the demon pulled Tristan's back against his chest, one hand sliding down the boy's chest to capture his erection.
With a sharp cry Tris arched into that touch, hips lurching desperately. Nobody had ever touched him there like that, and it was a very different sensation from the familiar feel of his own hand. Hot, powerful, foreign... Tristan was whimpering and wriggling, responsive little body writhing into the demon's skillful touch. "Do you like this?" Balendir wanted to know, lips against the boy's ear as he savored the friction of Tris' squirming in his lap.
Thighs trembling in the battle to open, or close, or open, they weren't sure which, Tristan choked back another cry and pressed himself back against Baal hard, hands flying to wrap around the large red hand wound around his cock. "Y-yeah," he got out, panting harshly. "Please... oh, shit...."
Chuckling, Balendir slowed. "Too much?" he wondered teasingly, fighting the urge to grasp those lovely little hips and bury himself to the hilt in what promised to be a deliciously tight ass. "Or do you want more?"
A strangled mewl was his only reply as Tristan lurched into his hand. "M-more," he finally got out, eyes tightly shut as he thrust his hips into that exquisite grip.
"I can give you better," Balendir purred, biting at his earlobe as he slowly let go of Tris' cock, smiling behind the boy's back. Better indeed. He couldn't help but smile at the dark gaze Tristan fixed on him, desperate lust sparking there.
"Please," Tris whispered, clutching at his wrist in entreaty, rocking his hips down against the hard heat pressed up against him. That was more than Balendir could, or wanted to resist, and in a moment the squirming little bundle of delicious reactions was face down across his lap. Chuckling at the undignified squawk the boy gave, the incubus slid his hand over the boy's ass, up his thigh and between his legs to toy with his balls lazily. Tristan yelped and struggled, earning the other hand splayed over his back, pinning him down. Something twisted at that feeling, something dark in the pit of him, relishing the strength that made him helpless, and he let that questing hand part his legs, shivering at the brush of hot fingers over that most private part of him. It felt... odd, but not bad. Tantalizing, and he whimpered a bit.
Beautiful. Utterly perfect, Balendir mused, gaze roving over the fair, freckled skin, the curve of back and ass... he had to have this. The need to mark that pale skin rose up in him, and with a light slap of his hand against that ass, he had Tristan squeaking and jumping, struggling against the demon's hold. "Relax," the incubus soothed, chuckling and stroking fingers over the abused skin. The tip of his tail curled around the bottle of oil that sat on the floor, bringing it closer. A smile crossed his face as he opened it and the scent of catmint hit the air. "You'll enjoy this, my little pet." A moment later one oil-slicked finger was rubbing lazily at his entrance, making Tris catch his breath and hold it, trying to decide if he should pull away or move closer.
The demon answered that for him after a moment, working the tip of his finger into that unbelievably tight heat, mouth watering at the way the boy's back arched eagerly. "Ai~!" Tris cried out, body instinctively clutching at the intruder. Then... well. Wow. Ooh. A whimper worked its way free of the boy's throat, and he leaned back, hips moving onto that hand, panting at the sheer level of sensation that was swamping his body and making him twitch. "Oh, shit... please, please, more," he begged shamelessly, eyes tightly shut, ass raised up into Balendir's hand. Amused, the incubus obliged him, reaching deeper, then moving back and mimicking a thrusting motion, slow and steady, that had his little human pet crying out and rocking onto his hand.
"Are you sure you don't want me to fuck you? If you want... more?" Balendir wondered with a lazy smirk, a second finger working at that tight entrance, demanding entrance and spurring the boy to yelp and arch all the more. Tristan was so lost, struggling just to feel those fingers in him harder, and the thought... so used... he whimpered.
"I do," Tris whispered, quivering. "I want you to fuck me." He couldn't place the moment he'd changed his mind, but he had, and something in him DEMANDED to be assuaged. It sapped his strength to say the words, nails digging into the demon's thigh where he clutched at him, turning to fix him with a pleading gaze. Balendir smiled slowly, and scissored his fingers in that tightness, stretching that sweet little ass and making Tristan gasp in startlement.
"That is a good pet, my pretty little one. Feeling it yet?" Balendir smirked, watching that lithe little body arch in his lap. A bit reluctantly, he refrained from teasing Tristan too much, well knowing that that young body could only take so much before it gave under the pressure.
"Y-yea," came the quivering reply, the boy's eyes shut tightly as his lips parted wide to pant for breath. "Yes." The words gave way to a helpless whine, accented by the lurch of Tris' hips as he strained to get more of that sensation in him. Balendir was not about to allow this, keeping the squirming boy well pinned and preparing him with methodical care. No sense in hurting the little morsel, not when he was already so eager.
There was something in the way the boy wriggled, his body arching for more, begging to be touched and thrilled. Balendir would certainly return, whether Tristan called him or not. A slight smile curved the demon's lips, and he shifted finally, considering Tristan ready enough. Removing his fingers, he shifted, pulling Tris into his lap once more, savoring the pitiful moan the boy gave at the loss of those fingers. He paused for a moment, then nodded, putting the boy's back against his chest and the hard length of his cock up against Tristan's ass. Taking a moment to slick more of the oil over his length, he nuzzled at Tris' back, for once having a care for his new pet. "Hold still, and relax, or this will hurt," the demon warned, rather reasonably, and grasped Tristan's hips firmly, lifting the suddenly tense boy up. "I said relax," Balendir repeated, nudging the head of his erection up against the slicked pucker of Tris' entrance. It was all the boy could do to remember to breathe, and somehow he managed to relax, which was a good thing, as the demon did not give him too much time to do so.
With one lazy, slow thrust, Balendir buried himself in Tristan's tight little body, drawing the boy down onto him until that delicious ass was resting against his thighs, and his little human pet was gasping and squirming on his cock ever so prettily. The invasion hurt, but in a delicious, slowly burning sort of ache, making Tristan pant and wriggle, wanting more and driving him to rock against the demon. With a body made for sensualism, it was quite easy to reduce him to a quivering batch of vulnerable nerves.
Balendir growled deeply, arms tight around Tristan's body as he held the wriggling boy down against him. Hot and tight, the mortal was perfectly delicious, and it was with aching slowness that the demon gripped Tristan's hips and levered him up, relishing the cry that escaped his pet as he began to fuck him languidly, breath hot on his neck. The incredible tightness and responsiveness of the body wrapped around his cock left him no doubt; this would be a short but spectacular ride.
For Tristan, however, it seemed to last forever, the repetition of those deep thrusts that split him so deep it was hard to breathe something he clung to. Pressure built, pleasure raged, and even as he was coming with a strangled scream, he passed out.
~~~~
From there, Alissya's sleep only deepened, into one without dreams, but a smile remained on her face all night long.
***********
As soon as Lilith stepped into the bathroom, Kane grabbed him to kiss him again. They barely made it to the tub before Kane's hands were groping down his back insistently, and Lilith had to pull away insistently, just to start the water. "You - you are simply horrible," the boy informed him, flushing at the look that Kane turned his way.
"Hush, my princess," Kane chuckled, smirking at him. Still flushed, Lilith made a pretty picture, bitemarks on his throat and bruises on his hip, and inwardly he was very smug about marking the boy so plainly. "And get into the tub."
Doing as he was told, Lilith climbed into the bath, a little embarrassed to see Kane climbing in after him. In but moments they were knee deep in steaming water, and then Kane was pulling Lilith into his lap, and they were kissing.
They spent the rest of the night that way.
*********
This time the girl wasn't crying. She wasn't wailing, or fighting, or even whimpering quietly under the veil. No, she stood tall and silent, dark brown hair visible under the bottom of the veil, where it was too short to hide all of that chocolate brown mess. Miranda was here for a reason, and nothing would distract her from her mission.
She was older than the usual bride selected for the King, already fifteen, but she was smart and beautiful. The intelligence was hardly what mattered in this situation but she had been chosen for her quest for more than her looks. As she walked into the nuptial chamber, without any urging from the guard who stared at her in awe, she readied the knife deep in her sleeve, and waited.
******
When Danaad pulled the girl toward the bed, she didn't cry like they usually did. He tore at the filmy green dress; it came away in his hands like cobwebbing. Shoving her down onto the sheets, he was too wrapped up in his lust and the imminent coupling to realize that one of her hands was behind his back, and had been since the dress came off.
When the knife came down, he did not scream.
=======
And that's where it stops. I'll be resuming for www.NANOWRIMO.org this year!