You and Eleazar lay cuddled together for a long time, your hand stroking and petting the magus’ skull as his soft, slow breathing makes you rise and fall on top of his body. Every time your fingertips or lips brush the nape of his neck, his breath hitches and he lets it out in a soft moan. The first few times it happens, you fear that you’re hurting him somehow; but he always looks back at you with the steady flame of his eye-light, which is filled with love and adoration for you.

Eventually, you crawl down to tuck yourself under Eleazar’s arm and press against his side. From this position, you can more thoroughly appreciate the scent of his body as well as reach to line the edge of his jaw with soft kisses. Eleazar rumbles in contentment, stroking your body with the shy curiosity he’s displayed ever since he came to live with you, and you’re no longer reticent to explore his body as you please.

Up and down his back. Over his sides and hips. You give the firm cheeks of his ass a squeeze, and he lets out an indulgent chuckle and presses the bony tip of his snout to your temple. “I love you, Anon,” he murmurs, and you echo his words as they grow firm in your heart. You’re becoming surer that this warmth in your chest, the soft fluttering of your heart every time you meet Eleazar’s gaze, really is love; the kind that sparks as a sudden flame and then settles into glowing embers that can endure the strongest, coldest winds.

Of course, the two of you can’t spend all day in bed. Eventually, you have to rise and greet the rest of your day. And a shower couldn’t hurt.

When you shift under his arm, gently laying the limb aside to sit up, the magus lifts and turns his head to watch you. When you stand up, stretching and scratching yourself, he sits up as well. Once more the two of you are frozen as you gaze at each other. You feel the magus’ eyes raking over your body, while yours does the same with his. Taking in every detail. Appreciating every inch of your lover.

Then you offer him a smile and tell him to follow you, and Eleazar rises to do so. He slips his hand around yours as you make your way into the bathroom, and you give the magus’ clawed hand a squeeze.

You both take a moment to relieve yourself—you piss into the toilet, and then move aside to allow Eleazar to do so as well. You can’t keep your curious gaze away as the magus spreads his slit with a thumb and forefinger, and pushes the tip of his softened cock out just enough to let his stream flow freely. He said his body was made up of magic, right? So how can he actually produce waste? Is he just mimicking what he’s seen you do?

Then you realize that you’re staring at the magus, watching him take a piss, and that Eleazar is watching you watch him relieve himself. You blush and turn away—his grin is definitely wide and teasing, somehow—and turn the shower on. As you step under the water Eleazar moves in behind you, and once more the small space ‘stretches’ to accommodate you both. He wraps his arms around you, resting his lower jaw on your shoulder and pressing the side of his snout to your cheek, and you settle back against the magus’ embrace under the warm water.

“May I wash you, Anon?”

Of course, you tell him. You reach back, hooking your arm around his skull—again, he shudders as your fingertips brush the nape of his neck—and press a kiss to the side of his snout. You want him to touch you everywhere. You did say your body was his, like his is yours, right?

Eleazar only hums in response, low and resonant, as he pumps some bodywash onto the washcloth and begins to scrub over you. He strokes over your chest and arm, up into your pits and then down your stomach. You feel his clawed fingers brushing over your crotch, the base of your cock, as he cleans you thoroughly. You can hear him shifting behind you as the washcloth slides down lower, down your thighs and over your legs, and let out a soft moan as Eleazar pushes his snout into the cleft of your ass. Your cheeks burn at how forward the magus is being; not that you’re complaining, of course. Especially with that magic tongue of his.

It swirls over your flexing, winking pucker, warm and wet and soft. Tingling a bit with Eleazar’s magic, and sending jolts of pleasure through your crotch and straight into your hardening cock. You can feel him taking slow, deep sniffs of the scent down there, and letting his breaths out in humid puffs against the back of your balls. When his tongue delves into you, pushing into your depths in one smooth motion and stretching your inner walls, your knees shake and you have to support yourself against the shower wall. Eleazar moves in and out, tonguefucking your hole for a long, blissful moment, and then pulls away to lift each of your feet in turn. You’re left panting, and can only moan out a few words to your magus as he drags his tongue across the sole of each foot, and then presses his snout into the cleft of your toes in his version of a kiss.

Fuck, he’s so hot.

“As are you, Master.” He rumbles with soft laughter while rising back up and offering you the washcloth. “Would it be impertinent to ask you to return the favor?”

Not at all, you say as you turn to offer him a grin that matches his own. You take the proffered washcloth, and stop the magus when he moves to turn around and lean against the wall. Instead, you press yourself into Eleazar’s chest and wrap your arms around him to slowly scrub up and down his back. He lets out an indulgent chuckle as you bury your face in the soft line of hair running down his chest, and lifts his arms to allow you to nuzzle into each of his musky armpits before giving them a reluctant scrub as well. Then you pull away from him just enough to run the washcloth over and down his chest and stomach, drawing the magus into a kiss as you do so. You can taste your own ass on his tongue as it dances against your own.

You’re hard, your rejuvenated cock shamelessly grinding against the Eleazar’s thigh. There’s no more hiding your erection from the magus; no more hiding just what your magus does to you. His arms drop and wrap around you, pulling your body firmly against his as you rub the washcloth over his ass. You grope and squeeze the firm, sculpted globes, and then try to push through into his cleft and under his tail—but the magus’ clenched butt refuses to part, as though his glutes are literally sculpted out of stone.

“Not there.” Eleazar’s voice is a husky whisper into your ear. “I don’t want you to wash away your marking, Master. And I know you prefer when my scent is strong. Let it mingle with yours, so all will know to whom I belong.”

You look up into his flickering eye-lights, your face burning as he grins his skeletal grin at you. That’s hot, really hot, but he’ll need to clean up back there eventually, won’t he?

“If you are worried about foulness, do not be. Remember, we magi have at least some control of our bodies and its… functions.” He clears his throat. “I can keep myself smelling strong for you while remaining clean, Master. Ever-ready to receive your seed.”

So not only is he self-lubing, but perpetually clean as well. Where the fuck is Eyghlewhyn, because it sounds like he dropped straight out of heaven.

Another soft peal of laughter rumbles in the magus’ chest as his eyes flicker. “I hope to see it again someday, Anon. With you by my side.”

You’d like that, you reply.

You continue washing your magus, scrubbing him down, and when you’re both satisfactorily clean you turn the water off and step out together. You dry yourself off, and then turn to rub Eleazar down with the towel as well. As you move to step out into the hall, however, he wraps his arms around you from behind. “Allow me, Anon.” A rush of hot wind swirls around you, drying you and the magus completely.
You turn to thank him with a soft kiss on the bridge of his snout, and can’t help letting out a soft laugh at how fluffed-up the wispy fur running down his body has become.

He’s adorable. And he’s yours. And the thought makes you push forward to wrap him up in another warm embrace.

A few minutes later, after dressing in a clean pair of underwear and some around-the-house clothes, you return back to the living room. Eleazar is sitting on the couch, still naked, with Ethan’s jockstrap in his hands. His thumbs work against the fabric of the stained pouch, curious, while he tests the elasticity of the waistband. You feel your cheeks heat up—you completely forgot about the discarded jock—and ask what’s on his mind.

“Oh, Anon!” Eleazar looks up, his eye-lights flickering in greeting and his skeletal grin wide. “Forgive me, I was curious about this article from Ethan you seem to be so enamored with. It’s not unlike my loincloth, yet offers much less coverage. Particularly in the back.” He glances to you, then to the interior of the pouch. You blush grows hotter as he presses the fabric to the end of his snout, and you hear his slow, considering inhalation. “The cloth seems to hold scents very well, as well. Would you like me to wear something like this?”

The thought of Eleazar in a jockstrap gets your erection pulsing back to life with an almost staggering force, and you can only nod to him.

“Would you like me to wear this one?” Before you can process the magus’ words, Eleazar stands. He puts one leg into the jock, and then the other, and then attempts to pull it up. The elastic stretches almost to its breaking point trying to fit around Eleazar’s powerful thighs and hips—much larger than Ethan’s—and then stretches to fit as the magus’ eyes flare. The pouch, still stained with Ethan’s sweat, bulges obscenely around Elezar’s massive ballsack, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. He hooks the waistband over his tail, and moves the limb back and forth a few times as if testing how comfortable it is. He then turns and reaches back, feeling how the straps frame his ass and the pouch lifts and supports his balls, and then looks to you. “How does it look?”

Gulping a little bit, you step forward to get a closer look. A real close look. You push your face into his bulge, inhaling the lingering scent of Ethan’s musk, and how it mixes with the magus’ own. You aren’t going to lie; it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

You swear that Eleazar’s grin widens a little bit as the lights in his eye sockets shine. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you down onto the couch with him. “I am most glad that you approve, Anon.”


After you settle in together, Eleazar gives you a long, slow, sloppy blowjob to take care of the diamond-hard erection he’s given you; he’s eager to show off his prowess to you, and god damn is he proficient. His tongue, hot and wet and dexterous, caressing and wrapping around your length in a tight embrace, provides a contrast to the feeling of his snout running along it as he nuzzles into your crotch. His maw opens wide to engulf your member, letting it sink into the snug confines of his throat, but even then you don’t even feel a hint of his sharp teeth. He gazes up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and the amber lights burning in his sockets glimmer with naked adoration as you stroke between his horns.

Finally, when you warn him how close you are with a low, hissing moan, he pulls back to open his mouth wide and let your pulsing cockhead rest on his tongue. Something—magic—arcs in a bright flash of light right at the point of contact as his eye-lights flicker, and you cry out as your seed spurts into his maw and across his snout. Eleazar gulps down the splashes of semen that land on his tongue with the eagerness of a man finding water in a desert, and lets the rest splatter across bridge and brow of his skull.

You cuddle as the warmth of afterglow washes through you, sharing slow, deep, cum-flavored kisses with your magus. When you move to wipe away the semen on his face, however, he stops you. “Please, Master, don’t.” His voice is quiet, soft, and shy, but his gaze is firm and proud. “Your seed marks me as yours. Your property and your servant. Your companion and your lover. I am proud to bear such a mark for all to see.” Again, his eyes flicker, flash, and the splashes of cum on his face glow. They dry up—no, sink into the bone of his skull?—and fade away. “It is my oath. Our oath of marriage.”

Well, it’s not exactly a ring, but you can’t argue with that. Eleazar looks confused at the mention of a ‘ring’, but pulls you into a slow kiss regardless.

The rest of the day passes in comfort, with occasional lewd moments—after all, Eleazar is only wearing Ethan’s jockstrap, and his bare ass is prime for the occasional loving smack or appreciative grope. You fix lunch for the both of you, and settle on the couch to watch tv and play a few rounds of vidya. Even though you know it’s probably a bad idea, you even pull your laptop out later in the afternoon to introduce Eleazar to the internet. The magus is both fascinated—“A million libraries worth of knowledge upon a single tablet. Our scholars would raze the Capitol and defy the Grand Magus himself for such a blessing, and yet you humans have achieved it so easily.”—and a quick learner. Before you know it, he’s searching up the history of the human side all on his own, ever eager to learn more.

And then you bite the bullet and introduce him to porn. The pics you’ve saved, and the tabs you’ve bookmarked, filled with masculine human men and even a few exotic Others. He remains curious and interested, even when you get into the kinkier stuff; very interested with some of it, judging by the slowly-growing tent in the jock he’s wearing. You end up with your face in Eleazar’s crotch, breathing in the mixed musks staining the pouch—Ethan’s scent is already fading under Eleazar’s own rich, exotic scent, and you take the opportunity while you can to inhale the remnants of Ethan’s crotch-smell right from the source—while Eleazar continues looking through your saved pics. He moans and sighs when you free his growing erection, taking the chance to get up-close and personal with the magus’ cock. It’s beautiful, just like the rest of him; long and thick and tapered, with bumps and ridges that give it an exotic shape. You give him a long, slow blowjob of his own, pushing as much of the massive shaft into your mouth and throat as possible, and guzzle down as much of his cum as you can.

Then the two of you have dinner, watch one last movie as the night grows late, and make love one more time before sinking into slumber together.

The week passes in much the same way. You wake up in Eleazar’s arms, so warm and comfortable and surrounded by his scent. After a quick shower together and breakfast, you leave him in the apartment to go to work. Eleazar passes the time while you’re gone either watching tv, playing videogames, or on the internet; part of you is afraid of what he might stumble across without you around, but when you check you find he’s either spending all his time looking up human history or watching videos. You let him know that he’s free to head out of the apartment if he wants—tell him to just make sure he either leaves a note or calls if he does so—but he seems oddly reluctant to leave the building without you.

At the end of the day you return home to be greeted by your magus; it feels nice, having someone to come home to, and the feeling of his arms wrapping around you and his bony snout pressing to your temple never fails to make your heart flutter. Especially when Eleazar’s greeting turns into, depending on your mood, either a blowjob or a deep, thorough rimming. Once he makes you cum, either guzzling it down straight from the tap or lapping up the splatters, the two of you fix dinner together and then settle in to spend the night together. Eleazar is eager to demonstrate all the video game practice he’s gotten—he’s starting to get to the point where he can win the occasional match against you—or watch a movie with you—his favorites are action movies with lots of explosions and high-budget special effects—especially when he can settle against you on the couch, letting his nearly-nude body press against yours. And of course, he wears his jock and the grin on his face while you make yourself comfortable in your underwear. However, as the week goes on, the fires of lust between the two of you fade into warm embers of companionship. Instead of groping your magus’s ass, chest, and crotch, those places just become where your hands settle of their own accord while you sit or lay together—when your fingers aren’t entwining with his, of course. Lewd ogling and comments turn into appreciative glances and softly-murmured sweet nothings.

It feels nice, being so domestic with Eleazar. Like the two of you really are a married couple.

Of course, how sexual your dreams have become with the magus around is probably helping to curb your libido. With Eleazar’s magic, your dreamscape becomes a canvas upon which the two of you paint every single one of your sexual fantasies—yes, even that one. Men that you’ve thought about fucking, from porn or just from your daily life. Kinks you’ve always wanted to try, but that you could never dream of doing in real life. Everything you’ve ever wanted to do with Ethan. Through all of it, Eleazar remains by your side, his eye-lights flaring and burning with passionate love for you. He watches, he participates, he becomes the center of attention—and when you wake up in his arms, pressing your crotch to his and feeling the cooling splatters of your mingling cum smearing between your bodies, he kisses you slow and deep and tells you that he loves you. That he’s yours. And you reply that you’re his.


Friday evening comes quicker than you realize, and before you know it it’s time for your meeting with Aldrich. You spend the day at work distracted, and you have to rush home afterward to pick up Eleazar. He’s already waiting for you, dressed in his loincloth, shirt, and long overcoat, and he pulls you into his arms as soon as you walk through the door. The two of you only spare a moment for a quick, eager kiss, and then the magus is pressing his brow to yours. You made sure to swing by Aldrich’s office during the week—Eleazar can only teleport to places either you or he has been in person, after all—and as his eyes flicker and flare with his magic you try your best to remember every detail. The long front desk. The artwork on the pale-beige walls. The long couches in the reception area.

In a blink, you’re there.

You’re greeted with murmuring and open staring as you appear seemingly out of nowhere in the reception area. A few Others—a white-furred minotaur sitting with his human companion, a lithely-built, black-furred werewolf, and some kind of chubby raccoon creature—exchange glances with each other, but you ignore them as you lead Eleazar to the front desk. The receptionist, a college-aged-looking young man, quickly schools his expression into a polite, professional smile when you tell him you’re there to see Aldrich. “Mr. Anon and Mr. Eleazar? Mr. Aldrich has been waiting for you. Just a moment while I let him know you’ve arrived.”

He gives you directions to Aldrich’s office—“Third floor up the elevator right there, take a right, and it’s the double-doors at the end of the hall.”—and you thank him as you and Eleazar move to follow them. The magus’ hand slips into yours as soon as the elevator doors close, and you give it a squeeze while stretching up to kiss your magus on his bony jaw.

You take a right and follow the corridor past offices both empty and occupied, and finally you’re standing before the double doors at the end of the hall. A metal plate with the name ‘Jeremy Aldrich’ is on the wall beside them; this is the place.

You give Eleazar’s hand one more reassuring squeeze, take a deep breath, and knock.

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Pub: 29 Dec 2020 21:46 UTC
Views: 427