You’re back on the couch, sandwiched between Ethan and Eleazar while you three game together. The rich scent of male sweat and hormones is thick in their air as they press onto you from either side. Ethan is clad only in his jockstrap, and Eleazar is completely nude. You yourself are just in your underwear, and it’s impossible to hide the tent of your erection.

“You comfy, man?” Ethan looks to you, something shining in his eyes that makes you gulp audibly as your cock throbs. He’s looking you up and down, his gaze locking onto your crotch for an infinitely-long moment. “Why don’t we make this interesting, huh?”

“What do you have in mind?” Eleazar leans again you, his arm wrapping around your waist and his clawed hand settling on your bare thigh. You stiffen against his sweat-slickened chest, trying not to blow right then and there. “If Master likes, we could get even more comfortable…”

“Patience is a virtue, El.” Ethan looks right back into your eyes, a broad smirk on his lips. “How about loser has to huff the winners’ pits. Sound fair, Anon?”

What?

“C’mon, man, you don’t have to make it gay.” Ethan’s hand is cupping your crotch. Squeezing your balls while his thumb rubs along the firm shaft through the thin material of your underwear. “No homo, right?”

Before you can answer, the controller is in your hands, and you’re staring at the screen as your character gets blasted to kingdom come.

“Well, deals a deal, man. Come on.” He gives you a grin and lifts his arm up, and like a magnet your face is pulled right into the hairy pit. All you can smell is his body, his rich musk tingling in your nose and filling your lungs. “Fuck yeah, man. Know you’ve been wanting this…” Your head swims as you moan your agreement. Eleazar’s hands are on your hips, pulling your underwear down. Off. Ethan grasps your cock and pumps while you move over to sniff his other pit.

You finally pull back, staring at Ethan. Panting. Flushed. Stuttering and stammering.

“Don’t give me that look, man. I said ‘winners’, right?”

You’re straddling Eleazar’s lap now, your ballsack kissing the humid lips of his slit. He gazes up at you, the lights in his eye sockets flaring and pulsing. His jaw slack, and his pale tongue hanging out as he pants. Your hands are on his broad chest, feeling the powerful muscles flexing and shifting under the cool flesh as he lifts his arms. You’ve never noticed the small tufts of fur in each pit. It looks adorable.

“Master Anon… my body is yours.”

You press your face into the magus’ armpit, taking deep sniffs of his spicy, exotic scent. Filling your lungs with it. Letting it fog your mind. You moan and begin lapping, the salt of his sweat adding a rich counterpoint to the flavor of his musk. Something long, hard, and hot presses into the cleft of your bare ass. Ethan’s chest presses against your back, holding you in place against Eleazar’s body. The two press in against you. Grinding. Moaning. Panting.

You wake up with a gasping moan as your cock throbs and spurts in orgasm.

You stifle your soft groans of bliss into the oddly firm, cool pillow beneath you. It takes a while to gather your scattered thoughts back into order, but you soon realize that you’re lying in your bed. You remember falling asleep out on the couch the night before—why? Oh, that’s right. You wanted to let Eleazar rest after he got drunk off a couple of beers.

It takes you a few more moments to make a few more startling realizations.

You’re pressed up against the magus’ side, his arm slung over you and revealing the source of the musky scent that pervaded your wet dream. The magus’ magic must have expanded the bed to fit you both, like it did with the shower.

You’re entirely naked; you stripped down to your underwear before falling asleep, but the clothing article seems to have disappeared completely.

And last, but certainly not least, you’ve just blown a massive load all over Eleazar’s hip.

You freeze, looking at the still-sleeping magus. Your panicked mind races, trying to figure out how you got into this position, and how you’re going to get out of it. Eleazar’s breathing remains slow and deep, and the lights normally burning in his eye-sockets remain extinguished as you squirm against his side, but his grip tightens on your shoulder and his arm pulls you closer. You can feel the hot stickiness of your semen smearing on your crotch, and try to pull your hips away from his as much as possible. You don’t want to wake him up and have him catch you in this state; you aren’t sure you’re ready for the awkward shift in your relationship with the magus either way.

Wait, what relationship with him?

Your cheeks flush with heat as you push that thought away. You can talk with the magus about whatever later. For now, you need to get out of this before he wakes up.

The magus’ breathing shifts, huffing out of his bony nostrils, and his arm flexes as he clutches you. One of his eye-lights flickers to life, and wanders around hazily before finally settling on you. He turns onto his side a little bit to make it easier to face you, and his jaw opens wide in a massive yawn. “Good morning, Mas- Anon.”

Once more you’re frozen, mouth hanging open, the only sound coming out a strangled squeak. You stare wide-eyed at him as he pushes himself up, turning around into a sitting position beside you and stretching. You notice the cute little tufts of fur in his armpits. Finally, you manage to stammer out a ‘good morning’ to him in return.

“I hope you enjoyed your rest, Anon, and I thank you for joining me.” He shifts, and then looks down at his hip. He pulls the covers away, and you blush in shame and hide your crotch from the magus as you realize that he’s felt the evidence of your ‘enjoyment’. “It seems that you did,” is all he says.

You try to defend yourself, stuttering out that you swear you fell asleep on the couch. You have no idea why you’re in bed with him, and the stain on his hips is just from a wet dream. You’re not a pervert, dammit!

“Anon, peace.” Eleazar sets a hand on your shoulder, and his eyes flash and glow. Warmth spreads over your skin, calming and soothing; that relaxation spell he cast on you in the shower yesterday morning. You moan and trail off, eyes fluttering, and then finally meet his gaze. “I must apologize for my impropriety. I awoke during the night, my mind still affected by the ‘beer’ I sampled, and…” He trails off, glancing away shyly. “When I remembered the warmth of your body, and the way you…” He clears his throat. “In my drunken state, my magic must have brought you to me.”

Uh huh. And did his magic also take your underwear off.

“Yes.” Well, that was a blunt answer. “Apologies if I overstepped my bounds, but I wished for you to be comfortable.” You let out a sigh, and reach up to pat his head at that. You decide not to chide the magus for not being aware of human shyness with nudity—after all, his own comfort with baring himself around the house makes it clear that’s not an issue back in his homeland. However, you flinch when you realize what you’re doing; but before you can pull your hand away, the crown of his skull pushes up against your head. You remember the enjoyment he got from having you stroke between his horns the night before, and let your fingers work over the bone to his soft moans of delight. “I am glad you enjoyed the dream, Anon…”

Come again?

His eye-lights flicker back to life as you stop your stroking. “Did I misread the situation last night? You seemed interested in Ethan’s body, and the images your mind conjured in the dream seemed to support your attraction.” He looks right at you, his eyes dimmed and his hands clasped shyly—if he could, you get the feeling the magus would be blushing. “I must admit your predilection for the scents of the male body is not something I’ve encountered in my fellow magi, but if it brings you joy, then I would be happy to let you ‘huff my pits’ any time you desire.”

Oh great, the throbbing in your temples—and your traitorous dick—is back. You sigh and turn to sit on the edge of the bed with your back to the magus, rubbing at your eyes with a forefinger and thumb. It’s been a long time coming, but you guess you can’t avoid it any longer. You’re going to have to have a talk with Eleazar about all this. But first, coffee. You tell Eleazar to clean up and go sit on the couch in the living room while you fix some breakfast for you both.

“Would you like me to shower, Anon? If it is not overstepping my bounds, we could wash together again.”

Another throb from your crotch makes the idea really tempting, but you tell the magus to skip the shower and just get ready.

“Of course, Master.”

Okay, he has to be doing that on purpose now. You shoot him a blushing glare over your shoulder, but his expression is as blank as ever; however, you swear his skeletal grin is just a little wider than normal.


Once more, you’re sitting on the couch, but the heat of the coffee cup in your hands makes it obvious that this isn’t a dream this time—as does the fact that you’re actually dressed this time, clad in a clean pair of underwear and an old t-shirt. You ended up just reheating the coffee you had made the previous morning before heading out with Ethan, and fixed yourself a few eggs. Eleazar, meanwhile, was eager to try the cereal you had bought for him, and munches happily on a bowlful—the almond milk wasn’t apparently very appetizing to the magus either, and so he decided to just eat it dry.

You eat in silence for a long while, the tv flipped to some random channel; as before, Eleazar is watching the ‘moving pictures’ on the screen in fascination as he eats. At least you have time to get your thoughts in order. You glance over to the magus, watching him pop piece after piece of cereal into his maw. He put his loincloth back on at your insistence, even using it to wipe your semen off of his thigh—and not that you were watching him do so, but you happened to notice he seemed to make sure to use the part that would go over his crotch to clean himself.

You clear your throat, both to break the silence and to get the magus’ attention. First off, you ask if controlling dreams is one of the things that are ‘mere trifles’ to a magus like him.

Eleazar hums in thought as he chews on a mouthful of cereal. Once he swallows, his mouth opens as if to speak, but he hesitates. “We magi… are not born the same way that other creatures are. We are not flesh and blood, but pure magic given form.” You raise an eyebrow but stay quiet, wondering where he’s going with this. “Because of our nature, we do not dream in the same way that humans or other creatures do. When we sleep, our minds can be freed to wander outside of our physical forms. This allows us to, if we so choose, enter the dreams of others. Long have the Grand Magi of Eyghlewhyn used this power to act as seers, soothsayers, and consultants for the other races.” You remember him mentioning something about a ‘Grand Magus’ the previous night, but set that aside for later. Instead, you ask him if that ability let him enter your dream. “Enter and… control, at least slightly.”

‘Slightly?’

“As I said, your desires are what shaped that particular dream. Although I was able to move it along to the part I could feel that you would like.”

You take a sip of your coffee, trying to process all of this. So that ‘him’ in the dream was actually him?

He hesitates once more, and then his hand moves down to settle on your knee. You both stare at it for a long moment in silence. Your heart pounds in your chest and you feel a slight shiver run up your spine. You don’t even make an attempt to hide your boner. “Indeed. The version of me in the dream who… offered his body to you… truly was me.”

You look up into the amber lights glowing softly in his eye sockets, and gulp hard as your cheeks burst into another hot blush. So he wants to have sex with you? Does he even understand what that means?

You immediately realize what a stupid question that was as Eleazar snorts and pats your knee. “Do not patronize me, Anon. Though we are not born the same way as you humans or other members of the races, nor do we reproduce in the same way, our contact with the worlds outside Eyghlewhyn has allowed us to explore sexuality. It has become a part of our culture as a way to strengthen bonds between fellows, or as a duty a servant may perform for his master.” He leans down to look right into your eyes, the lights in his eye-sockets flickering a bit, but soon steadying. “I offered those services to you when you first bought me, and the offer has remained open. In fact, I have only become more eager as you have demonstrated your kindness as a master.”

For the last time, you aren’t his master, you stutter out. The weight of his gaze makes you pause for a moment, and then your hand moves of its own accord to pet his skull.

“Companion, then.”

Yeah, that works for you.

Eleazar’s eye-lights extinguish, and his jaw hangs open a bit as he moans while you stroke the bases of his horns. “It has been a long time since I have had companions, Anon. You have my word that I shall perform any duties you wish of me in earnest. Even if you ask me to pleasure Ethan, I shall do it for my mas—for my companion.”

Wait, what?

One eye-light flickers back to life in its eye-socket as the magus tilts his head. “He is your companion too, is he not? Though I admit it feels odd—painful—I know that your desires for Ethan come before my own. I shall not come between you, Anon.”

Wait, he’s jealous of Ethan? You tell him that he has completely the wrong idea. Sure, Ethan’s your friend, your roommate from college, and—wait, exactly how much of your ‘desires’ does he know about?

He snaps his fingers, his eyes glow—flicker—and Ethan’s jockstrap drops into his hand. He doesn’t even have to say a word; he just offers it to you while looking right into your eyes.

You grab the jockstrap and set it aside on the arm of the couch. You were wondering where it got to after you fell asleep last night—you can neither confirm nor deny that you were huffing it as you drifted off. Alright, you admit, you may have been attracted to him, and he may have had a starring role in more than a few of your fantasies, but he’s straight. More than that, he’s married; happily so, as far as you know.

“Straight? Married?” Eleazar head tilts again, and you reach for the coffee cup you set aside to take a long gulp of the tepid liquid. You never imagined you’d have to go over the ins and outs of marriage to an Other, but then again your life has already been turned pretty much completely upside-down since that damned auction.

Hesitantly, trying to find the right words, you begin to explain using Ethan as an example. He’s straight, which means he’s only attracted to women. Female humans. At least, you’re pretty sure he’s never been attracted to Other women. But that’s beside the point; he’s not attracted to men. Eleazar rumbles at that, a strange look in his eyes, but you press on to explain the human concept of marriage—exclusive relationship, meant to provide stability for a family, two people pledging themselves to the each other for the rest of their lives, all that.

Again, the magus hums in thought as you wind down your explanation. He eyes your coffee cup, and you quickly gulp down the last of the completely-cooled liquid—you already saw him drunk, you don’t need a jittery, hyper, caffeine-infused magus causing trouble as well. “I have heard that humans can be odd about sexuality, but these concepts are more foreign than I had anticipated.” The magus sighs. “Is it because we are unmarried that you reject me when I offer myself to you, Anon?”

Well, not entirely. Your cheeks heat once more as you look down to the carpet between your feet. Eleazar’s attractive. Really, really attractive. And yes, you admit, a part of you likes it when he wanders around in a loincloth—or less. He sets his hand back onto your knee, and you can feel the warmth of the relaxation spell flowing through the limb. You just want it to mean something, and not just be an obligation for him, you finally say.

“Anon. Master.” The magus stares at you as he rises up, and then kneels before you. His burning eyes remain locked with yours as he places both hands on your knees, and gently spreads them so he can position himself between them. You ask, blushing and stammering and pushing at his shoulders, what he’s doing, but he just hushes you. “I understand your trepidation, but there are a few things you must come to understand as well. When I was bound in slavery, I was made to take an oath that I would follow the orders of whatever master came to own me. Do you realize what it means for a magus, whose body is one with the ebb and flow of magic itself, to make such an oath?”

The intensity of both his words and his stare keeps you silent.

One of his hands rises up to take one of your own and place it on the crown of his head. As your fingertips glide over the smooth bone, he rumbles in approval. “I had prepared myself for the life of a slave. Prepared myself to be a tool, a weapon, whatever purpose for which my master desired to use my power. And yet, I came unto your service, and you treat me not as a slave, but a companion.” His eye-lights flicker out, and he seems to search for his words. “You are beyond anything I could ever hope to have in a master. You are kind, and generous, and full of care for your unworthy servant.” You start to speak, but one eye flares to life in its socket to silence you with a glance. “As I have said, my body is yours, Anon. I would gladly be whatever you wish me to be—servant, slave, or companion in marriage. This oath is not made as the slave Eleazar, but as Eleazar Draenendu, magus of Eyghlewhyn.”

You remain silent as the magus finishes his speech, stroking over his brow and between his curving horns. In truth, you don’t know what to say to that. Thoughts swirl through your racing mind in a maelstrom. Did he just propose to you? He is so fucking adorable right now. What will this mean for the two of you going forward? If this means he wants a sexual relationship with you, do you want to take it to that level—well, of course you do, but what would people think about you having such a relationship with an Other? What would the New Abolitionists think about you marrying the same Other you bought as a slave? This probably isn’t what Aldrich had in mind for getting Eleazar accustomed to life on the human side.

Oh fuck, Aldrich.

You finally remember that you were supposed to get in contact with Aldrich. Since you go back to work tomorrow—weekends off are great, but Mondays are always a bitch—this would probably be your only real chance. You look down at Eleazar, gulping hard, and finally tell him that you need time to consider things. For now, could he get your phone?

He nods and rises up, not saying anything either—apparently, he wants his confession to speak for itself until you give your response. You make your own way to the bedroom and dig through your crumpled-up jeans for Aldrich’s card, and when you return to the main room Eleazar is waiting with your phone in his hand. He offers it to you with a short bow. “Shall I clean while you are busy, Anon?”

You tell him he doesn’t really need to, but to go ahead if he’d like. With a nod, the magus’ eyes flare and the dishes from breakfast float into the air and follow behind as he makes his way to the kitchenette, leaving you to collapse onto the couch. You dial the number on Aldrich’s card, and after two short rings hear the click of the line being picked up.

“Good morning, New Abolitionist Headquarters, City of XXXXX Branch. How can I help you?” You greet the young-sounding receptionist on the line, and introduce yourself. “Oh, Mr. Anon! Mr. Aldrich said you might call sometime this weekend. Please hold for a moment while I transfer you.”

Eleazar glances to you occasionally while you hum along to the hold music. When you look over to him, however, his gaze darts away, as does yours when he looks back towards you. You play this game like shy schoolchildren until the line rings once more, and Aldrich finally picks up.

“Ah, Anon! Good to hear from you. How have you and Eleazar been getting along?”

You bite your lip, trying to think of how to answer that. Finally, you take a deep breath to steady yourself, and begin to speak.

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Pub: 29 Dec 2020 21:45 UTC
Views: 509