You blink. You blush. You crane your head to look up at your magus. It’s been a long time coming, certainly—in all the time you’ve spent with Eleazar, the two of you have only grown closer and closer; you doubt you could even imagine life without him at this point—but at the same time the suddenness of his declaration makes your knees weak. Marriage; that’s what you’ve called what the two of you have together, but now it’s going to be official. You’re going to consummate it—the fact that Eleazar wants to do so right in front of Mordha tightens your pants around your pulsing crotch—and be bound to your magus.

What exactly does that mean?

Before the words can pass your lips, Mordha moves in close to the two of you. Suddenly you feel small—microscopic—under the weight of his gaze as he looks from you to Eleazar. “Are you sure, Eleazar?” The Grand Magus’ voice is placid as the sea, and you can practically feel the depths of the implications in his voice.

Eleazar nods. “Grand Ma- no. Mordha…” His tongue caresses the other magus’ name, and their eyes lock in a long stare. “I have never been so sure of anything in my existence.”

“And you know what this will mean?”

You magus’ grip tightens on your shoulder. “Yes.”

A long exhalation of breath. Mordha nods, his impossibly-colored eyelights blinking out and leaving his eye sockets completely dark. He puts a hand over the one Eleazar has on your shoulder, stroking slowly and tenderly with his clawed thumb, while his other hand grips the smaller magus’ own shoulder. “Very well. Let us take this to my chambers, Eleazar, Anon. There we may lay together as you are bound for eternity to one another.”

“Mord-“

Eleazar is cut off as Mordha presses the length of his bony snout against the side of Eleazar’s. Your magus’ breath hitches in his throat as the tip of Mordha’s snout moves to the crook of Eleazar’s neck, and the Grand Magus’ long, sinuous tongue flicks over the smaller magus’ throat. You watch the display of intimate affection with interest and maybe a little bit of jealousy; sure, it’s hot—both Eleazar and Mordha are hot—and you’d be a hypocrite to hold Eleazar’s reaction against him when your own eyes keep raking over the larger magus’ nude form appreciatively. They’re close—again, that fact becomes abundantly clear—but then Eleazar looks to you with those shining, love-filled eyelights of his, and you know you don’t have anything to fear.

That fact is only confirmed when Mordha pulls away from Eleazar—a little bit reluctantly, you can’t help but notice—and looks to you with a wide, toothy, skeletal grin. “I am glad that you have found your happiness, Eleazar. And Anon, I hope that you will treat Eleazar with all the care he deserves.”

You nod, and give Mordha a smile of your own as Eleazar pulls you against his body once more. Your magus’ chest presses against your back, and his crotch settles just above the curve of your ass as his arms wrap around you; he’s proudly showing you off to Mordha once again as the tip of his snout presses to your temple and shoulder in turn. You look deep into the impossibly-colored lights burning in the Grand Magus’ eye sockets, and tell him that he doesn’t have to worry about that at all. You love your magus, and he loves you, and that’s all there is to it.

A soft chuckle rumbles in Mordha’s chest as he steps forward once more; your face breaks into a fiery blush when the plump weight of his massive balls presses against your stomach. “That is what I wish to hear.” He gives both you and Eleazar another smile. “Come. We shall take this to my chambers.”

“A moment, Mordha.” Oh no, Eleazar’s voice has that playful lilt it always gets when he’s thinking of something kinky. “You and I have bared our forms, but Anon has not yet. Is it not appropriate for all of us to be prepared for this…?” You look at him, still flushed, and your magus just gives you a wink as his hand pushes between you and Mordha to play with the fly of your pants.

Mordha’s hitching breath as Eleazar’s hands brush his balls, rubbing the plump, full, heavy sacks against your shirt-covered stomach only makes your blush burn hotter. You look up at the Grand Magus—no, he said no titles, right? Mordha, then—and watch as he reaches down to grasp the hem of your shirt. “You are right, Eleazar. Shall I assist in preparing your husband?” Is that hesitation in the old magus’ eyes? No, it’s reassurance and a question for both you and your magus: is this okay? Without a word, you nod and lift your arms up.

Your hands stroke along Eleazar’s neck and jaw, drawing a low moan out of your magus. “Please.”

With that, the two magi start undressing you. Eleazar pops the button of your fly and pulls it open, while Mordha pulls your shirt up and off; the touch of his ballsack against your bare skin is both familiar and strange; every inch of Eleazar’s body has touched every inch of your own, and the fact that this isn’t your magus doing it lends an odd undertone to the sensation. But still, you press against the contact if only to feel those pendulous orbs shifting in their loose, leathery sack. Eleazar’s fingers push under the waistband of your underwear, pushing it down along with your pants to free your erection; the hard shaft bats against Mordha’s thigh, drawing out a quiet laugh from the larger magus. With a flash of Mordha’s eye-lights and a flick of his fingers, your clothes—even including your shoes and socks—fold themselves and disappear to leave you completely nude.

“Breathtaking, isn’t he?” The purring tenderness in Eleazar’s voice as his hands roam your body relaxes you, and you settle in comfortably between the two magi.

“Indeed. A fine human, Eleazar. And an even finer husband.” Mordha is looking you over appreciatively—up and down, his eye-lights finally settling in a long gaze over your crotch—with a broad smile and that blushing-without-blushing ‘expression’ on his skeletal face. You give him a smile in return as you thank him for the compliment, and work with Eleazar to show off your body. Rubbing back against Eleazar, grinding your ass against his slit and balls; and the wet tip you can already feel emerging from its hiding place. Resting your head against your magus’ chest as he presses his snout into the crook of your neck. Even flexing what muscles you have as he caresses and squeezes them. It’s a little embarrassing, but also kind of hot to be shown off by this; to show off together with your husband.

Once Mordha is satisfied with the eyeful he’s getting of you both—and is that the thick tip of the Grand Magus’ own cock poking free from his moist slit lips?—his eyes flash. Another whirlwind of magic power around the three of you wipes the meeting room away, replacing it with another large, cozy-looking room that can only be the Grand Magus’ quarters. A large desk covered in quills and parchments and scrolls and books of all sizes faces one stony wall. Shimmering tapestries displaying skull-headed figures of Magi—some in provocative-looking poses—decorate the room and frame a massive window that, itself, frames a view of the shimmering, ever-shifting aurora in the sky. There is no bed, but instead a shallow pit in the center of the room filled with cushions and pillows; you think back to Eleazar’s issues sleeping in a human bed, and realize it probably extends to the rest of his race as well.

“Make yourself comfortable, Eleazar. Young Anon, if you would stay close to me, there is something that I would show you.”

You blink at Mordha’s words, and then look to Eleazar. Your magus gives you a reassuring glance in return and squeezes your hand; a soft surge of that soothing spell spreads from the contact, and your racing heart slows. He then makes his way over to Mordha’s ‘bed’, his tail waving behind him as he lays himself down on his stomach. He crosses his arms underneath himself and then lays his bony chin upon his forearms, gazing over to you and Mordha. His musculature flexes and relaxes under his ebony skin, his tail slowly taps against the back of one leg—curling up and over itself to bare the magus’ buttocks—and his expression settles into a comfortable, lazy smile. As you look him over from snout to toetip, you’re struck once more by just how adorable your magus is; how he can look strong and sexy yet vulnerable all at the same time whenever he looks at you with those glimmering amber lights in his eye sockets.

And apparently, Mordha agrees. The world swims around you again, and then you find yourself sitting in the larger magus’ lap as he settles in next to Eleazar’s prone form. Your cheeks grow heated and the pattering of your heart starts right back up as his arms wrap around you, holding you against his own very large, very strong, very naked body. His hands trace the trail that Eleazar’s showed him earlier over your chest and stomach and thighs, and his jaw settles on your shoulder as the two of you watch Eleazar splay himself.

“Breathtaking, isn’t he?”

The playful lilt in Mordha’s voice as he echoes Eleazar’s earlier words stokes the fires burning in both your face and groin, and you can only agree with him wholeheartedly. Eleazar is breathtaking; beautiful and handsome and sexy and a million other adjectives.

Mordha lets out a breathy chuckle right into your ear, and—when you answer his questioning glance with a nod—reaches out to cup one of Eleazar’s firm, plump asscheeks. He strokes the smooth flesh and gives the firm muscle underneath a squeeze, and both he and you let out husky breaths at the low, crooning moan it draws from your magus’ breast. You watch as Mordha’s thumb traces the length of your magus’ asscrack, and then pulls Eleazar’s dank cleft open to bare his twitching, pulsing pucker and release a waft of his rich, heady scent. “I see you’ve grown quite familiar with my Eleazar’s hole, young Anon.”

Yeah, you reply as you watch Mordha’s fingertips trace the rim of flesh you’ve grown intimately familiar with over the week you and Eleazar have spent together. You hesitate, and then tell Mordha of all the things you’ve done to your magus’ ass; spreading it nice and wide to smell and taste it, pushing your tongue and cock deep into him, and dumping load after load of seed into your husband. Again, that perverted thrill runs down your spine as you confess to Mordha; he did say he was interested in hearing all about it, after all, and from the pulsing underneath your own rump you can tell the Grand Magus likes what he hears.

“I see. And you love it, don’t you, Eleazar?” That familiar teasing tone that your magus always uses on you now pours from Mordha’s own mouth; so that’s where he learned that from. “You love bending over and presenting yourself for this human, don’t you? You enjoy showing your genitals to him as he takes you, hm? Marks you as his?” He chuckles, and another squeeze on Eleazar’s asscheek makes the smaller magus hiss with need. “You enjoy pleasuring him, giving yourself to him completely, don’t you.”

“Yes. Oh yes…” Eleazar’s eyelights flicker out as his front half slumps onto the cushions beneath him. He pushes his rump back against Mordha’s grasping hand while panting and groaning. You can see the erection throbbing between his thighs; and a chilly finger of confliction runs down your spine. It’s Mordha making him feel this way, but at the same time his words are all about you. Your confused boner both flags a little bit and throbs at the sight of the other magus teasing yours so expertly.

Mordha looks to you, and that icy finger is replaced with a warm, gentle caress. The soothing spell. “Peace, Anon. Eleazar is yours and yours alone, and no one on this side or yours would ever doubt it.” You flush in shame and drop your gaze at how easy the magus is able to read your thoughts—it makes sense since, you know, Grand Magus, but still—but Mordha’s free hand moves to lift your chin and make you meet his gaze. Again it’s like a loving, almost paternal embrace. “Allow me to show you. Close your eyes.” Your eyelids fall shut before you even realize it, and then you feel slight pressure—a faint sting that quickly fades—on one eye and then the other. “Now, gaze upon your husband.”

When you do what the Grand Magus says, looking over Eleazar’s nude, shamelessly-presented body, it takes you a moment to process what you’re seeing. Splatters and swirls of translucent, faintly-shining white paint your magus’ skin; pooled in the small of his backs and the pit under his tail, over his buttocks and down his thighs, and up his sides to his shoulders. He looks over his shoulder to you, and you see it coating his skull in layered splotches. What is it?

“Your marking.” Mordha’s low, purring voice rumbles in your ears as he strokes your chest. “Your seed, your essence, staining his form for all to see. To sense.” You gasp as his tongue flicks against your cheek. “To smell.”

You gulp, erection pulsing between your thighs. So that’s what Eleazar and Mordha meant. That’s what the other magi—the other Others—were staring at your magus for. That’s what the looks and whispers were about as you’d walk down the street together, hand in hand. Nice.

“And I am proud to bear it.” Eleazar waggles his hips, letting his plump balls swing between his own thighs and pushing back against Mordha’s still-groping hand. “Anon… my lover, my husband. Now do you see how I am yours, utterly and completely?”

You nod, and join Mordha in rubbing over your magus’ flank. You crawl out of the larger magus’ lap to trace the shimmering dribbles and splatters up his sides. Up his back, still being careful and tender with the scars marring the muscular expanse. Up to his neck, hearing his moaning and sighing as his eyelights flicker out once more. As always, he hisses and flinches as your fingertips brush over the nape of his neck, but now you can see why with the aid of Mordha’s enchantment; there, marring the smooth flesh, is what must be the ‘branding’ that the Grand Magus had talked about earlier. A circle enclosing a seven-pointed star, with scratchy, scrawled, runic-looking symbols on each point and around the outside. When you touch it, it lets off a faint flash of light. You don’t know what to say; as you meet Eleazar’s eyes, all the times you touched or kissed him there flitter through your mind. Were you hurting him? Why didn’t he tell you about it?

A hand covers your own, and gives a tender squeeze. Eleazar sighs softly. “In a moment, it will not matter, Anon. This branding, this mark of my slavehood… I would use it for a different purpose. A symbol is only as powerful as the meaning that it is given, after all. Like the rings used to bind married partners that you were telling me about.”

Is that what he’s been planning all this time?

He pushes his lower body up, rising onto his knees and turning towards you. He takes both of your hands in his own, and dips down to press the tip of his snout to your forehead. “The brand, once set, cannot be broken by anyone but the caster. And I would rather fade into nothing without rejoining the Source than return to beg anything of the like from Mellycgh. However…” He looks to Mordha. “If one of equal or greater power can manipulate it…”

Mordha moves to take a seat next to the both of you. “It will not be easy.” His heavy gaze falls on Eleazar, and then you. “It will hurt, of course. Both of you. And the nature of the brand itself may have unforeseen consequences in addition to what may come from binding together a human and one of the Source-kin. I want the both of you to think very carefully… is this truly what you want?”

Even as Eleazar’s own gaze remains strong and sure, you bite your lip. You’ve heard plenty of stories—fairy tales they were called, before the fairies themselves waltzed out into the world—about relationship between humans and what have become known as Others. Shared lifespans, humans gaining magic powers through their ‘bond’, being able to share thoughts and emotions; such things have been the stuff of fiction for years. Will it be like that?

Before you can ask, however, Eleazar gives your hands another squeeze. Again, that soothing tingle spreads through your flesh and settles into your bones, calming the maelstrom of your thoughts. Again, his eyes shine with bright, burning love as gazes into your own. Again, his expression—unreadable to anyone who hasn’t been every second of every day for the past week around him—is just as full of his love for you. “The consequences are far more dire for myself than for Anon. Even so, I would gladly face them in exchange for staying by his side.”

In the face of your magus’ conviction, all you can do is nod.

“Very well.” Is Mordha’s tone proud? Sad? Resigned? It seems to swirl with emotion just as his eyelights swirl and dance with so many impossible colors. One of his own heavy, clawed hands settles on your shoulder, while the other moves to Eleazar’s nape. “Then prepare yourselves, and I shall begin.”

You brace yourself, watching as Mordha presses two fingers to the brand. As soon as he touches it, arcs of red light spark from the point of contact as his eyelights flash. Eleazar gasps, and his jaw creaks as his teeth clench; you can hear the groan of pain he’s trying to suppress, and clasp his hands tightly in yours. All the while you maintain eye contact with your magus; trying to give him back some of the comfort and support he’s been pouring into you.

Then Mordha tugs. He grunts with effort, as though lifting a great weight, while Eleazar writhes and whimpers. Sparks—no, threads of magical energy—continue to hold fast to your magus’ skin as Mordha ‘pulls’ the brand off of the back of Eleazar’s neck. The form of it shimmers on his fingertips, glowing balefully as it squirms like a living thing. You can’t help a fearful gulp as he lowers the hissing, spitting thing down towards your and Eleazar’s conjoined hands. You don’t even have time to think before it leaps forward, wrapping itself around your shared grasp in a crushing, punishing grip.

Pain. White-hot and sharp-tasting. Buzzing in your brain and slicing through your flesh. You heave and collapse against Eleazar, pressing your face into his shoulder as he rubs his jaw against your temple. Was this what it was like for him? This torture ever second of his time in Mellygch’s possession. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you press yourself against your magus, the branding sinking into the both of you.

Then Mordha’s hands enclose yours and Eleazar’s, and a pulse of magic rocks through you. The heat drains, fading into a soothing warmth. You feel something wrapping around your digits—a piercing through your skull that makes you wince—wrapping around the ring finger of your left hand. You clutch onto Eleazar, and he clutches onto you. Far away, you can hear Mordha’ deep rumbling voice intoning an enchantment that send throbs of something indescribable through the point of contract between the three of you; it isn’t painful—not anymore—and yet it isn’t pleasurable either. You can only take slow, deep breaths as the winding threads tighten. Tighten.

Finally, the sensations fade completely. With a groan, you lift your head; first to look to Eleazar—whose eyelights have been snuffed out for the moment as he takes deep, hoarse breaths—and then down to your hands. There, on your ring finger and on Eleazar’s, is a faintly-glowing marking. A ring around the digit, sunken into and marking the flesh with magical power. A wedding band for the both of you.

“Anon. Master…” Flickers of flame spark in Eleazar’s eye sockets, and then your magus pulls away to look down at you. His jaw is slack, his pale tongue hanging out slightly as he pants. “It… it is done.” His jaw closes into a skeletal grin—wide and beaming—and once more he presses the bony tip of his snout to your forehead. “We are conjoined, body and soul, forever.”

Forever. You take a good, long look at Eleazar—your magus, your boyfriend, your husband—and smile. That sounds good to you.

“Not to interrupt, but there is one more thing that needs to be done.” A hand, strong yet gentle, on your back and on Eleazar’s. Another pair of eyelights, colored in every hue possible and impossible, gazing at the both of you with a tender expression. Mordha.

“Yes.” Eleazar chuckles, and you blush under the combined stare of the two magi. The fact that all three of you are naked, and that you and Eleazar are already sweaty from the ordeal you just underwent—breaks through the wonder of being bound to your husband. You watch, cock throbbing with a strangely-intense arousal, as Eleazar moves to crawl into Mordha’s lap. He turns, pressing his back to the older Magus’ chest, and splays himself. Presents himself. Lifts his arms to hook them around Mordha’s neck—baring his already-musky pits—and spreading his legs to show off his crotch to you. The heavy, low-hanging balls and taut-lipped, already-moist slit you’ve grown so familiar with. And strangely, you can feel the contact between the two magi’s nude bodies; feel Mordha’s bony snout scraping Eleazar’s jaw as one hand strokes the crown of your magus’ skull and the other arm wraps across your magus’ chest. Oddly enough, it feels nice.

You drop your gaze, and finally notice how the swirls of your ‘marking’ seem to shy away from Eleazar’s crotch. It makes sense—understanding flashes through your mind in a bolt of comprehension; you haven’t yet claimed him there. It’s time to fix that.

Eleazar’s husky words echo your thoughts. “Anon… I—we—have waited long enough. Take me.” He rocks his hips, grinding down on Mordha’s thigh, and looks to you as his tongue flicks out from between his slack jaws. “Consummate our marriage.”

Fuck him in his tight little slit, he means? You feel a smile tug at the corners of your lips even as your erection pulses at the sight laid out before you.

“Yes…” That low, needy moan. That rumble in his throat. That look he’s giving you. Even as Mordha continues to caress your magus’ body, that faint sting of jealousy from earlier is completely absent; after all, Eleazar is yours wholly and completely. You move forward, catching his tongue between your lips, and draw Eleazar into a deep kiss while you straddle Mordha’s knee and position yourself between your magus’ thighs. Your cocktip brushing your magus’ balls, through the tuft of soft fur just below his belly, and then over his slit. You can feel the humidity pouring out from the sensitive lips as you rub against them, suckling on Eleazar’s tongue and feeling it push down to wriggle in your throat all the while. You moan. You grunt. You gasp as the kiss breaks off, huffing and panting as you stare into Eleazar’s eyes, and then bury your face in his bared armpit to breathe in his scent. You’re ready for it.

You finally push forward, and Eleazar’s slit spreads open for you. Immediately the head of your cock is embraced by the hot, wet flesh, and you whimper and groan while Eleazar takes a deep, hissing breath. Slow. Slow. He hasn’t done this before. Just like the first time taking his rear, you inch forward into his depths while pressing yourself against him. Every croon and whimper from your magus makes it so difficult not to slam forward, but somehow you many to keep your control; you want him to love this, after all. You want him to enjoy himself, and you want to pleasure him just as much as he wants to pleasure you. A pulse through the ‘ring’ on your finger, and suddenly you can feel it; the stretching of his inner walls around your firm, insistent cock, and the twitching and throbbing of your magus’ own erection deep within him. When your two lengths finally meet, sliding along each other in a spark of sweet friction, the two of you let out a duet of groaning, sighing pleasure.

You’re in him. You’re hilted in Eleazar’s slit. His cock is grinding against yours in the tight embrace of his passage. As your balls rub against his slit lips, you pull your face free from his pit to meet his gaze. Tender. Loving. Adoring. “I love you, Anon.”

And you love him, you reply with a kiss to the tip of his snout. A kiss that deepens once more as you slowly draw yourself out, pulling free of his clamping inner walls, and then push right back into him to press your crotches together. Again and again. Pull and push. Out and then in. You work up to a study pace as you fuck—make love to—your husband under Mordha’s watchful eye.

You can feel the Grand Magus’ curious gaze on you as you dip under Eleazar’s lifted arms again and again between passionate kisses with your magus; you huff his scent, nuzzling into the musky, adorable tufts of fur while switching sides and pressing occasional pecks to Eleazar’s firm chest. He looks like he wants to ask what you’re doing, but remains quiet while caressing your and your magus’ convulsing, rocking, working bodies. Finally, Eleazar cranes his head and answers Mordha’s silent question. “My husband has a particular love for the scents of the male body. He loves smelling me all over… in my armpits. My slit and balls. And my ass.” You can only moan in agreement, not even feeling the slightest sting of embarrassment as you take another hint of your magus’ spicy, rich, exotic musk.

“Your body, Eleazar, or any male’s?” His voice is even and steady, but when you glance up at him he has that blushing-without-blushing look is back on his skeletal face.

Eleazar chuckles. “I recall fondly the smell of your body, Mordha. My first scenting from between your legs… the first time you let me spread your backside open to sample you…” Now Eleazar’s ‘blushing’ too as he pulls Mordha’s snout down against his shoulder. “My time with Anon has only given me an appreciation for his sexual proclivities… and I can say for certain that he would love to huff your pits and your ass. Is that not right, Anon?” He looks to you, and one of his amber eyelights blinks out in a teasing wink.

Your own face burns as you look to Mordha, really taking in the sight of the naked, muscular, massive—and admittedly, very sexy—older magus. Your hand moves from Eleazar’s hip to Mordha’s chest, feeling it up appreciatively; are all magi such beefcakes? Your gaze drops between his legs, looking over his own plump, full genitalia; his slit lips are pressed together tightly, almost as if they’re straining to hold back the flesh within. You finally meet Mordha’s gaze, and smile. Sure, you tell him, you’d love to compare his and Eleazar’s smells sometime; flirting with the Grand Magus still feels a little weird, especially with your cock buried deep in your magus, but if Eleazar approves then what’s the harm?

A low rumble from Mordha answers you as his arms wrap tight around you and Eleazar, holding the both of you close. “I should like that very much.”

A warm pulse up and down your spine and settling in your chest—a sensation that feels like Eleazar’s loving words filling your heart directly—makes you close your eyes and settle your cheek into the crook of your magus’ shoulder. You feel two bony jaws brush against your temples, and work yourself in and out of Eleazar while following the trail of fur down Mordha’s chest and stomach with your stroking fingers. Your magus’ erection throbs against yours in the tight confines of his inner walls, the two lengths being squeezed together by every clench around them, as your hand finds Eleazar’s already cupping and rubbing the larger magus’ ballsack. You stroke your huband’s thumb with your own, and then move up to trace along the lips of Mordha’s own humid slit.

A groan. A sigh. A low, rumbling chuckle. “Careful you two. You may make me shame myself by showing my genitalia.”

“There is no shame in that, Mordha.” Eleazar rocks his hips upward, grinding his crotch against yours, and looks over to give the larger magus that flirtatious blink-wink of his. “I have missed the sight of your cock, and I am sure that Anon would be like to gaze upon it as well.” It may be the husky croon of Eleazar’s words, or the clamping and squeezing of his inner walls around your length, or the heady scent of his underarms still tingling in your nose, but you readily agree without a second thought.

“Very well…” Mordha’s eyelights blink out. He groans, and you feel his slit lips relax under your touch. As you feel the hard, gargantuan, ridged length of the Grand Magus’ cock sliding free under your palm, your free hand finds Eleazar’s and entwines your fingers with your magus’. Hot. Thick. Monolithic. Mordha’s erection easily dwarf’s both yours and Eleazar’s, and you give it an appreciative squeeze while feeling over its length. “I take it you approve.” Another chuckle, and Mordha eagerly rocks his hips as well as Eleazar joins you in rubbing and stroking and jerking off the larger magus.

Meanwhile, you pick up the pace of your own lovemaking. You plunge deep into Eleazar’s slit again and again, harder and faster until you’re slamming your hips together. His heavy balls rub against your own time and again as both sacks start drawing up to empty their loads. Every clench, every touch, every twitch of your husband’s erection against your own winds the screw in your gut tighter. Tighter. Tighter.

A shudder from the warm, bucking form beneath you. Eleazar surges into another hot, needy kiss with you, shoving his tongue into your mouth with a hungry moan as his cock pulses and throbs and finally erupts. The clamping passage of your magus’ slit is filled to the brim with his cum, the thick fluid spurting out to paint your crotches with streaks of white, and you only pump into his slick depths a few more times before the spring coil in your gut finally snaps. Your own seed spurts out in wave after wave of pleasure, mingling with the tide roiling within your magus’ passage. Hot. Wet. Tingling and sparking as Eleazar’s eyes flash; his magic surges through his length into yours, and your semen stains his insides as thoroughly as it has the rest of his body. He’s marked now. Every inch of him, in and out, is yours.

You breathe out his name, staring at your beautiful, adorable, sexy magus. Squeezing his hand in your own, and pressing your lips to the bone of his jaw and mouth. Kissing him. Laying with him as you sink into your afterglow together.

Mordha’s voice murmurs from nearby, the words foreign but the meaning clear as another surge of magic power surges through the branding marking your finger; the Grand Magus of Eyghlewhyn has blessed your union.

“Anon…” Eleazar smiles and presses his bony snout to your forehead one more time, tender and loving. You can feel the sticky wetness between the two of you, and slowly continue to rock your softening cock in and out of his passage. He moans, his eyelights flickering, and then looks to Mordha. “Thank you for this, Mordha.”

“It was my pleasure, Eleazar.” Mordha meets Eleazar’s gaze, those swirling emotions filling his rumbling voice once more. “I am happy for you and Anon. May your lives together be long and prosperous.”

You shift against your magus, moving over to properly face Mordha so that you can give him your thanks as well. With a grin and an approving nod from Eleazar—a pulse through your chest and through the branding on your finger—you grasp Mordha’s large, yellowed skull in both hands. The larger magus looks to you, impossibly-colored eyelights flickering, and then he lets out a brief grunt and a soft sigh as you press your lips to the tip of Mordha’s snout. Maybe, you say as your cheeks burn, you can get together to ‘discuss matters’ again sometime.

“You are welcome to stay in Eyghlewhyn. In fact, I insist upon it.” Mordha’s hand cups your ass, and Eleazar turns himself to allow the Grand Magus’ other hand to settle on his own rump. “I must look into these matters you have brought to my attention, after all. In the meantime, however…” He looks down at himself, and you follow his gaze. His cock, big and thick and dribbling freely, is still twitching with arousal as it juts from the dewy lips of his spread slit. It does indeed look very similar to Eleazar’s—exotically alluring—and the faint scent rising from it is already stirring your loins once more.

“It is only fair that we repay what you have done for us. Isn’t that right?” Eleazar looks to you once more, and again you can see the desire in his eyes; he’s yours, but still he is interested in Mordha. And maybe you’re a little more interested in him, too, considering what all just happened.

However, before you can speak, a sound like a gust of wind cuts you off. It’s quickly followed by a voice, low and steady and cold. A voice that you recognize from your arrival and from the great hall, when you were first presented to Mordha. Baldwyn’s voice. “Master Mordha, are you finished with these guests?”

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Pub: 29 Dec 2020 21:46 UTC
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