Gods And Monsters

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Gods and Monsters

Copyright © 2005 by Sean Michael

All rights reserved. No part of thiseBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information addressTorquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.

ISBN:1-933389-12-5

Printed in theUnited States of America .

TorquerePress electronic edition / July 2005

TorquerePresseBooks are published byTorquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502. http://www.torquerepress.com


an imprint of Torquere Press

Gods and Monsters


Copyright © 2005 by Sean Michael

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502.

ISBN:1-933389-12-5

Printed in the United States of America.

Torquere Press electronic edition / July 2005

Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, PO Box 4351, Grand Junction, CO 81502. http://www.torquerepress.com

Chapter One

Marrone slept as he always did, curled around his beloved, defending and protecting Verde from all touches, mortal or immortal. It had always been so. It would always be so. He felt the touch of familiar fingers at the base of his horns, teasing them to hardness, seducing him from dreams. He smiled, nuzzling close.Beloved One. My own.His Verde rubbed against him, all soft skin and hard heat, his twin most eager, as always, to join them together. Yours.Marrone nibbled playfully, antlers sliding through Verde's hands, fingers trailing along his twin's spine. Green eyes opened slowly, gazing at him with such love. And lust. He purred, licking warm lips.You will fill me with your joy this morn, Beloved. A shiver went through the sweet body.As you wish, Beloved. He rumbled, lips teasing face and neck, hands sliding over perfect skin. Verde sang for him, body


undulating, stretching and rubbing, arching into his hands. The pressure of vines and leaves beneath him tickled and he chuckled, a dozen beasts answering his call. What a thing! This love. Verde rolled over top of him, phallus hard and hot, pressing along his thigh. It made him shiver, made him ache with a need only his beloved could fill.Beloved. Brother. No longer two.Verde pushed into him, filling his body with heat and joy and love. No. One soul. One heart.His pleasure was called through the forest, all he was offered into Verde's hands. His beloved twin cried out, the trees around them growing quickly, reaching to the sky. They move as one, heat building between them, spring becoming summer as they blazed. "Beloved!" Verde's voice rang throughout the trees, coloring the leaves with his passion. His seed splashed upon the ground, his satisfaction bringing the harvest, the land heavy with fruit. Heat filled him, burned him with Verde's joy. His Beloved's mouth covered his, sweet words of love and eternity whispering into him. He purred, wrapping around Verde yet again and settling them onto the earth.Most loved. Verde nuzzled against him.My own. He nodded, settling Verde into the spot his twin belonged.Yours. *** Verde hated wars. They left his beautiful land scorched and broken, ripped apart. One of Rossa's favorite wars had finally ended, the troops withdrawing, taking with them their beasts of burden, their encampments, their fires, their dead. Verde walked over the land, mourning, leaving behind tender gasses wherever his bare feet stepped and fragile new shoots that would one day be trees grew up where each of his tears fell. On and on he walked, growing angrier as he realized just how much of the land had been raped by this war. He stopped and roared loudly enough that each of his brothers and sisters could hear his anger. The thunder of Marrone's hooves rocked the ground itself, the soil going rich, the scarred earth turning. "Beloved." He reached out for his twin, heart sore and shaking. "Oh, Beloved. Look. Feel. It is terrible." Marrone sniffed, nodded, head bobbing. "Rossa's hand is harsh. It has always been so. The land will repair. We will outlast her furies." Dark eyes shone as his cheek was cupped. "It has always been so." He nuzzled into Marrone's warm hand. "It is such a waste, brother." Marrone's lips met his own, warm and rich and so full of life. "And which will cure it, most Beloved? Your anger or your love and joy?"


He blinked and then smiled against his twin's lips. "My Beloved, what would I do without you?" He got a wide-eyed look in response. "You would not. I am yours as you are mine." Then Marrone leapt at him, playfully knocking him to the ground, hot tongue sliding over his skin. He laughed and bucked up against Marrone, playing at trying to get free. Hands and lips teased and tickled, his happiness, multiplied by his twin's, poured out over the ground. "Oh, Beloved, you bring me to life." His hands found those sweet horn nubs, sliding over them, teasing them to growth. They grew up beneath his fingers, warm and hard. Marrone's lips found his nipple, tugging and pulling, tasting his passion. He rubbed his brother's horns, even as he rubbed his own need against a powerful stomach. Beloved...I burn for you.Soft whimpers flowed over his skin and into the ground, ivy and grass springing up with their joy. Yes...yes, Beloved. And I for you. He wrapped his legs around Marrone's waist, feeling the earth coming back to life beneath his back. Before they were done the whole area would be covered with long grasses and beautiful flowers. Heat pressed inside him, easy and natural, Marrone's rutting most needed, most welcome. He grabbed his brother's ass, holding the firm flesh in his hands and pulling the beloved body in harder, tighter, faster. As he had since the beginning, since the first trees sank their roots into the soil, Marrone gave Verde everything. Verde shouted out his beloved twin's name, feeling the earth rumble and flourish with their passion. Marrone moved within him, hand curling around his phallus, tongue pressing deep into him, the land singing with their love. "Marrone!" He whispered his twin's name. He shouted it. Mountains shook and the earth trembled. As he came, the new flowers bloomed, all reds and yellows and blues and purples. Marrone held him tight, body moving within him, sure and steady as the sway of the trees in the deepest forest. It lasted an eternity that was over in the blink of an eye. Always too fast, too soon, too good and he was coming again, heat splashing between them. Marrone's seed answered his own spending, filling him with a simple love and joy that could not be undone by war or destruction. He stayed wrapped around his beloved twin, feeling the life of the earth within him and without. It loves you, the earth. Almost as much as I do. He stroked one of Marrone's cheeks, purring at his twin.Never as much as you, Beloved. No, my love. Never as much.Warm lips traced his skin.Come, Beloved. Come and run with me. 'Tis a horned moon. Oh, yes!He slid around Marrone's body until he was seated on the wide, warm back, hands holding tight to the base of the great antlers. "Let us run!" ***


Verde curled up around Marrone, head on his brother's belly. Rumbling softly, Marrone stroked his back. "How does the day find you, Brother?" "Better now, Beloved." Verde rubbed his cheek against Marrone's belly. "I was missing your touch." "There was no reason for you to miss my touch." His twin laughed softly. "You belong here." He turned to look up into dark brown eyes. "I know, brother." Lifting his head, he brought their mouths together. Marrone kissed him slowly, hands sliding over his skin, petting. Running his own hands over Marrone's arms, he purred. "Do you have need of me?" Marrone's eyes flashed and a pair of huge stag's horns appeared atop his head. "Or shall we hunt, Beloved?" His purrs grew louder. "Need first, hunt after." Marrone's horns shrunk back to hide in his mass of hair. "Yes, Beloved." He was pushed into the grasses with a growl. He spread his legs, wrapping around his brother's waist. "Yes!" Growling low, Marrone pushed into him without hesitation, eyes hot. He cried out, hips pushing up to meet the thrust, hands holding on tight to the thickly muscled arms of his brother. Rutting, Marrone groaned, body working hard as the grasses grew wildly around them, vines twining. "Harder, brother!" he demanded. "Faster!" Marrone howled, moving until their bodies were slamming together. Sparing a hand to grab his cock, he pulled hard until he roared, seed spilling, making flowers bloom in the tall grasses. Marrone filled him, cry splitting the air. "Beloved!" Verde pulled Marrone down onto himself, needing the weight of his brother on him. "Sweet brother, how I love you." Nuzzling, Marrone rumbled softly and took a kiss. "Beloved." He purred softly in reply, offering another kiss to his brother's pleasure. Marrone rested a moment and then rubbed against him. "We hunt?" He laughed softly. "Always so restless for the earth, my dear brother. Yes! We hunt!" Marrone growled happily, horns on the beloved head growing into a full rack, head tossing. "Forest or field?" He climbed onto his brother's back, fingers wrapping around the base of Marrone's horns. "As you wish, beloved." ***


They moved through the deepest forest like roots through soil, moving so quickly that the creatures only blinked as the trees rattled. Spring became summer and summer fall before they stopped at a brook to drink and rest. Marrone lowered his head, drinking the cold water, body chilled where his brother slid away. His eyes were reflected back at him, huge and dark, his rack of horns full and heavy and sharp. Verde's face appeared next to his, his brother's eyes green, even in the watery reflection. Then Verde drank and the ripples took away both their reflections. "Mother grows weak, Beloved, and Father will reign supreme soon." He stretched, growled low as his muscles pulled against each other. "Shall we sleep the snows away?" Verde purred, sweet, slender body rubbing against him. "Love me first, brother, and then sleep." He nodded, nudging the most loved face with his cheeks, their scent strong and rich together. Hunger and the need to rut was sharp upon him, as it was always with his Beloved, the One Who Made the Sap Flow. Verde wrapped wiry arms around his neck, hands moving up to caress his horns. The clever fingers slid over them as their cheeks continued to rub together. "My fierce horned stag," whispered Verde. He wished his brother's leathers away, his own body bare as always, and pulled them together. His chirrups and rumbles were proof of his pleasure, his need. Verde climbed his body easily, legs around his waist, mouth taking his, melding them together. Wild and grass-sweet, his Beloved's flavor fuelled his hunger, made him need as none other. The others were alone, separate, older -- he and his brother had been coaxed as one from their mother's embrace by the Eldest Son, Violo seeking their father's favor by freeing mother's attention -- but he and Verde? They shared the same roots, the same need. Verde nipped his bottom lip, hands holding tightly to his horns. "Take me, brother. Make us one." "We are always one." He tossed his head, the feel of Verde's touch to his horns erotic and arousing, necessary. His hands gripped the slim hips, pulling his Beloved down onto his thick cock. Verde cried out and flowers bloomed out of season along the banks of the river. Marrone pushed deep, hips moving in the familiar, unmistakable rhythm of rutting, of joining, of life. His brother's eyes flashed at him, green bright and full of life, full of him. Verde moved like a sylph on his cock, fluid and eager. Verde's fingers circled the base of his horns, sending deep-rooted flashes through his body, making him roar and jerk. Their mating became fierce as the skies darkened, Turchino blessing their love. "Marrone," whispered Verde. "Brother. Mine." "Beloved Verde," he answered, the words a prayer, the forest coming alive around them. "Mine." Verde called out, seed spraying between them. The skies opened up as he came, filling his brother, his lover, his Beloved. Verde clung to him, skin cooling quickly in the rain. He nuzzled, holding his brother close. "A deep cave in the mountains? Some bodies to keep us warm?"


Verde purred for him. "Yes, my brother. You always know what we need." He took a kiss, drinking from the well of Verde's happiness. "You find the bodies, I will bring us to the cave, Beloved." "As you wish, my brother." He tossed his head, Verde using the momentum to swing onto his back, settling in the spot made for the slender body. A sniff of the air and they shimmered, two becoming one with the forests again. *** Verde reached out as he rode Marrone, searching for disciples to draw into their hibernation with them. Live bodies to keep them warm as they played and slept away winter's snow. When he found worshipers, he caressed Marrone's horns in gentle warning and leapt from his back, leaving his brother to find them a place. When Marrone was ready he would come, expecting Verde to be ready for him. He landed in a small clearing, shaking his hair out around him; it was his only covering. A dozen dark eyes glanced up at him from the fire -- a group of mortals just beginning the summer of their lives. Four auburn-haired men and two dark women stopped their eating. One lad, taller than the rest began to growl, the sound much like one his Marrone would make, but one of the young women stopped him with a touch. "Lord Verde? Mikah, it is Lord Verde. He heard our songs." "Indeed, I did." It pleased him to be recognized. He held out his hand to her, inviting her to touch his person. She came forward, kneeling before him, laying one soft cheek against his palm. "My Lord. You honor us." Three young men, each as the other, stood together in a huddle, the other dark-haired nymph held tight between. "You, perhaps, I honor. The others appear frightened. My children, am I so scary?" It was the other woman who tilted her head and spoke. "No! No! You... Oh, Orin, Dirin, Arin! Look! He's lovely!" There was a quick series of mutters and the brightest laugh and then he was surrounded by laughter and quick, dark eyes. He laughed as well, shaking his hair to fall at his back, letting them look their fill. "You were calling to me, children of the soil, and I came. Now you must tell me why." To his surprise it was the oldest mortal, the tall one, who answered. "There is a plague in the villages, my Lord. We were sent to the forest to find shelter. I am Mikah and that is Liska. The four are as one. We have survived the autumn, my Lord, but I cannot care for my adopted family when the snows come. We seek your guidance, my Lord. Tell me what best to do?"


"What does the earth do when the snows come, my dear ones?" He reached out and touched each one, soft smooth cheeks warm against his hands. The sweet raven-haired human nestled into his touch. "It sleeps, my Lord. Quiet and still, under the snows." "Yes! And so do we. I am here to answer your prayers, dearest ones. My brother and I are ready to spend the winter in hibernation; we need only warm, willing bodies join us. Sleep with us and you will find your spring more bountiful than you could ever imagine." Mikah knelt before him, happy tears in the dark eyes. "Thank you, my Lord Verde. Oh...thank you." Liska's smile lit the forest. "I told you. The Lords of the Forest are true. They are." He bent and kissed her softly. "We are." "Oh..." Her eyes lit up. "Sweet, my Lord." "Who else would taste?" he asked, looking around at them, willing to share with each a taste of what the winter would hold. One of the matched set of men lifted a smiling face to him. "Please, my Lord. I would taste your sweetness." He smiled, pleasure filling him. Such deserving followers. He took the smooth cheeks in his hands and brought their mouths together, slowly opening the dear mouth and dipping his tongue inside. That earned him the sweetest sigh and tremor. Oh, such pleasure, such innocence, such joy offered up. When the kiss ended, Verde found himself offered two that were exactly as sweet, one brother truly as another. Oh, his own brother would truly be pleased. He kissed the other two as well, sharing himself with all of them -- he would not have even one share their winter unwilling. Such innocence was intoxicating and his phallus was hard; he was wanting by the time they had each had their taste. "Marrone," he murmured, reaching out for his brother in his need. He felt the warm answer as rush of warmth, the image of a dark, deep cave with a pool for water filling his mind. Beloved. "Come with me now, my brother awaits us." Four bright and two dark heads nodded, eyes warm and rich and full of trust. He held his arms open, gathering them close and then willed them all to his brother's side. *** The cave was all they would want -- warm and dry, a pool, lovely crystals for his Beloved to see, soft ground to sleep upon. Marrone felt his brother's call, the pleasure, the mortals coming to share heat and


pleasure and winter. He carefully reduced his antlers to mere nubbins hidden in his wild mane. They would spring free soon enough. Verde appeared before him, his Beloved with a cadre of followers, young and strong all, warm and beautiful. Shiny dark eyes blinked him, little wild creatures with wild hair and singing with curiosity. His brother Verde, however, sang with a sweet need. "Bright day, sweet ones. Blessings to you one and all." "This is my Beloved, the other half of me," Verde said, leading their followers forward to him. "Do not be frightened, come and taste -- you thought me sweet, you will find him deep and true." One, the slightest of them all, dress just hinting at her curves, came and snuggled into his arms without fear, lifting her smooth face for his kiss. "I am Melin." He bent and took a kiss, purring at the sweetness he found there, the willing pleasure. When he looked up, he found his Beloved's eyes beaming at him and the five others eager to take their turn. Verde moved them, maneuvered them so that they were held in the circles of his and his twin's arms. "I am Liska," said the other sweet mother of the earth, offering her lips for a kiss. "Liska." Her lips were warm, her innocence faded slightly, but her joy real. When the eldest male kissed him, he could taste her lips upon his mouth. Here is a real treat for you, my beloved brother. Three untested men, one as alike as the other.He could feel Verde's excitement, knew his brother would not wait much longer to take his own kiss. He rumbled, leaning down to take one kiss, then another, then another, phallus growing stiff and dark. "Look my children, look how beautiful he is in his need. You've done that to him, made him want, made both of us want." Verde's hands twitched and the young ones were naked. "Oh!" Liska gasped, hands covering her body, eyes wide. "My...my Lord!" Verde sighed and the young ones were cloaked in pelts.My need makes me impatient, Beloved. They are sweet and young. Have patience. Marrone smiled and piles of pelts were mounded around a blazing fire. A gentle touch and the mortals were relaxed, heading to curl together in piles.Come to me, Beloved, and let them come to us with hunger. Verde purred and moved into his arms, his Beloved rubbing against him. He rumbled, kissing his brother deeply. He ran his hands down his brother's back, showing the sweet mortals his Beloved's beauty. Verde's hands slid over his body, touching his belly, his nipples, his neck, moving slowly, inexorably up to his horns. His beloved brother's purrs were growing louder, Verde's need becoming greater. His horns grew, his rumbles growing louder. The mortals were watching, eyes hot, the clutch of four beginning to move together slowly, little gasps sounding. Verde let his pleasure have sound, moaning and purring, murmuring sweet perversions into his mouth. He wrapped his hand around Verde's shaft, tugging steadily, displaying his Beloved's beauty.


"Marrone! Such heat, my beloved brother." Verde rippled against him, pushing into his hand with abandon. "Yes, Beloved." His eyes met Liska's dark ones, fascinated and aroused. "Would you touch him? Feel his heat?" She nodded, crawling forward with parted lips. "Oh...yes...feel what my brother does to me." Verde's words were soft, low, full of such hunger. She moaned softly, one hand gently petting Verde's thigh. "Hot, my Lord. So soft." Verde laughed softly, the sound rich, seductive. "Not the hottest, nor the softest part of me, sweet one." "No?" Such sweet need, such curiosity -- this titian-haired beauty was the bravest of them all. Verde turned in his arms, back pressing against his warmth. "Can you guess which part of me burns for my brother? For you and your brothers and sisters?" He reached down, parting Verde's thin buttocks and sliding inside with a thought, joining them as thin, dark hands reached to caress his Beloved's phallus. His brother cried out, pushing back onto his phallus, hands moving to cup the flushed face. By the fire, sweet cries were rising, the musk from the mortals' need rising, making their coupling richer. The tallest of the men sat, hand stroking his own heavy shaft, watching the three of them with fascination. Marrone rocked strong and steady into his Beloved, watching these sweet, warm humans, feeding on their passion. "Take me into your mouth," Verde murmured, guiding Liska's lips to his phallus. Those soft lips parted, tongue sliding curiously, lapping at Verde's skin. The taste of his Beloved's seed was true addiction and the hint of it made those dark eyes flare as she pulled his brother in. Verde called out, jerking in his arms. "Yes. Take me, take my brother through me. Learn the joy of loving us." They moved together, slow yet hard, driving Liska's passion while allowing her to open to Verde's need. Mikah watched, sobbing as his hand worked furiously. His brother shook in his arms, writhed on his phallus, the scent of need, rich and dark and thick in the cave. Marrone waved his hand, a smooth wooden phallus -- small and thin -- filling Mikah, rocking in the same rhythm as his own thrusts into his Beloved. The boy's eyes widened, his body tightening as he came. The scent of sweet, pure seed filled the air, making his Verde shout and come as well, pouring his essence into Liska. He tumbled after, roar ringing through the cave as he filled his Beloved, eyes still fastened onto the sated and dazed mortal boy. Verde collapsed against him, purring and warm, fingers stroking the Liska's face. He eased them into the furs, drawing the sweet, soft skinned mortals close as Liska got a gentle kiss. "Oh, my children," murmured Verde. "Pray with me that winter lasts for decades."


Marrone chuckled quietly.As long as you would like to keep and teach them, Beloved. So good to me, Beloved.Verde stroked his horns, sliding against him. He purred softly, eyes dropping closed as new hands joined in the touches, caressing him. Some were hesitant, shy and gentle, others bolder, though none as bold as his Verde, who drank from his mouth and played his skin like an instrument, filling the cave with the song of his need. Oh...this winter would be long and sweet, lost in pleasure with his Beloved and their mortals. *** Pleasure was good, but even Verde and his beloved brother knew that it would not hold them for the whole winter. There must be other entertainments for their dear mortal ones. And so one dark night, they gathered around the fire and he began. "In the beginning there were only Day and Night. The lady Bianca and her consort Nero. Together they made the world and everything in it. Their children rule the earth, rule nature, rule all. "If you have the desire to listen, I have the stories. Gather closer, we'll stay warm together and I will take you on such adventures as mere mortals have never dreamed. "I will tell you of the love and hate that flows between Bianca and Nero, how their arguments brought one man to his knees, how their love brought another to such heights. "I will tell you of Violo, their first born. The violet god holds sway over all creation and destruction. Be very careful what you wish for when you invoke his name. "I will tell you more of Marrone and myself, the second born, twins that cradle you within their thighs. "Turchino, the blue god who dances in the skies above us and swims in the waters around us. His storms put fear into the souls of men and yet his kiss can make men fly. "Fair and more beautiful than any other is Rossa. The red god brings passion to man's heart and makes him love, makes him hate; such good and such evil has been wrought in her name. "Even-tempered and steady, Gialla, the yellow god, is as a rock. Wisdom and knowledge flow from her loins. Her price is steep but her prizes gold. "Arancione is arrogant. Master of fire, energy, nourishment. Man's best friend and worst enemy. "I feel your question, I have not forgotten. Grigio, the grey god of dreams and nightmares. He was created that man could dream, could imagine that such things as gods did exist and more, that they could be petitioned to grant favors upon such as yourselves. "Each has their favorites, the children of their hearts. Dragons and unicorns, men and women, sprites and demons, mermen and warmongers. We fight, we love, we are brothers and sisters like any others and yet unlike anyone else ever born. "Move closer now, and give me a sip from your lips and tell me, whose story would you like to hear first?"


Chapter Two

They made love for days before the subject of the tales came up again. Verde was resting against his twin, head on the warm belly. Here he could smell the musk of Marrone's sex, the scent of need and growth and earth, fecund and rich, familiar and necessary. The triplets rested with their sister in a pile that was growing most familiar, while Liska and Mikah rubbed Marrone's horns with oiled fingers. They were such good caregivers and an excellent choice to be the mother and father of their followers. When the winter ended, he and Marrone would bless them with much fruit. "Would you tell us a tale, my Lord Verde?" Liska asked. "Of course, my child. Which of the gods would you hear of first?" "Why, you and your twin, of course, my Lord Verde." He laughed and stroked her cheek. "Such a sweet girl, but you can tell the most important of our tales yourself. Surely you are curious about our siblings?" "I would hear tales of the Lord of Dreams," suggested Mikah. "I have long been intrigued by him. He seems as easy as smoke to hold onto." "Ah, a good choice, for our brother touches every being and his life is the stuff that dreams are made of." *** Grigio wandered the mists, hands playing idly with a dream here, stroking a dreamer to orgasm there, twisting a pleasant thought into a vile nightmare in passing. So delicate, these mortals, so vulnerable. The scent of incense caught his nose, sweet and a sure temptation, drawing him deeper into the mists. The temple was old, almost as old as the gods themselves, and three of his smoke demons danced in it, joining with the smoke rising from the bowl where the incense burned. They twisted and writhed together, calling out to him, imploring him to come and spend a dream or two with them. Beloved Ones, how fare your dreamings?He smiled, heart singing at their beauty. Our Lord!As one they rushed to him, wrapping him in smoke that slowly grew into the forms of three men, legs and arms twined around him. We danced for your pleasure, Lord. We searched the ether of dreams and nightmares for your beloved presence.


My beauties, I felt you and came to share in your dance, your pleasure.With a thought his robes dissolved, his form mingling and mixing with his children. You honor us, Lord.They rubbed against him, formed, but soft, fading in and out, the smoke a different, more subtle touch than where they were solid. He returned the touches, sparking pleasure deep within each one, their need rich and real upon his tongue. One of them kissed him, smoke pressing deep into his lungs, the caress consuming. Grigio sank into the dreaming of it, drawing the kiss out until the night-time sky vibrated with his need. Warm, hazy lips surrounded his phallus and a smoky tongue pushed into him from behind, his beloved children filling him as only they could. His pleasure poured around them, the incense taking ghostly form to touch his beloved demons, share his joy with them. They arched, shimmered and faded in and out, ghostly pulsing within and without. The ancient temple began to pour forth legions of wishes and lies, dreams and wishes, night terrors and fantasies, all fuelled by his own need. More smoke demons joined the three who loved him, drawn to the temple by his hunger. They touched him, adding the caresses of thousands to fuel his pleasure. When he dissolved in pleasure, he left the breath of his love mingled with each of his most beloved. As the intensity of his pleasure faded, he found himself floating on a cloud of smoke, his demons cradling him. Stroking gently with both fingers and mind, he offered his thanks and joy and love. In return they offered him all that they were, pledging their very selves to him now and always. He accepted, curling and mingling with their need, letting the world pass unnoticed beneath them. *** Grigio wandered the mists, lonely and idle, wanting that which he could not name or understand, unable to muster the energy to send his horned devils to scare, his succubae to seduce, his beleaguered phantoms to give portent. *** "Lord Verde?" He was surprised at the interruption. "Yes, Melin?" he asked the boldest of the three triplets. "Why is Lord Grigio always lonely?" Marrone answered for him. "Because he does not have a beloved brother as Verde and I do." He nodded. It was true. He and Marrone shared a bond that none other had. For all their denial, their siblings were most jealous, he was sure of it. "Let him continue, Melin." Selin looked impatiently at her brother. *** Grigio sighed and his discontent formed tiny rain clouds and heavy-headed mushrooms and fat lizards with slow-blinking eyes.


Mist gathered at his feet, smoke slowly rising along his legs, circling, caressing. He breathed it in and when he breathed it out again, one of his children, one of the smoke demons, coalesced before him."My Lord, I felt your need and answered your call." He offered a warm smile, arms opening in welcome. Oh, his children! His most favored, most loved! They never failed to ease his heart, to make his burden less. The young man flowed into his arms, solid against him, smoke surrounding him, stroking him, whispering beneath his robes and caressing his thighs. I would have your name, beautiful one.The touch of their minds together was lightning and storm, energy at its sweetest. Etero, my Lord, created for your pleasure. He touched their lips together.Etero, so lovely, come to ease my melancholy. It is you who are lovely, my Lord. I am but a pale reflection -- smoke in a mirror.Etero's lips melted against his, smoke flowing into his mouth to caress him inside. He purred, sweet and long, blessing his dear ones with his joy, his care. What is our Lord's pleasure?Etero wound around him, heat and air. Mmm...share your sweet touch with me, let us dissolve together in the air itself.He touched the long spine, cradling them together. The demon leaned back, floating on the air, pulling him down along the ethereal body. His laughter slid along the mist, rippling it.My beautiful Etero. Beautiful for you, my Lord.Barely-there hands slid beneath his robes.May I, Lord Grigio? You may, my beauty.He closed his eyes, nuzzling the soft throat, breathing his Etero in. His clothes gave way beneath the smoky hands, leaving him naked, his skin free to be explored by Etero's touch. The energy between them was rich, sweet, lacking edge as they floated together, their mists mingling. Etero thinned, spread over greater distance, bringing him along until they filled the entire dark forest with their essence. The wind and stars went through them, causing laughter that floated down into lucky men's dreams, then Etero's arousal awakened his, drawing forth the succubae and incubi to collect their seed. His phallus was stroked by Etero's smoke, surrounded by heat. He rocked, his pleasure filling the air and drawing hymns and blessing upon the mottled skin of his own. My Lord Grigio!The smoke rippled against him, growing warmer against his skin. Wanton and writhing, his faithful Etero found pleasure's greatest touch and offered it to him. They moved together, faster and faster, smoke growing fingers, fingers smoky, rippling along and within and around. Twisting through the air, they spun together, floating and flying, pleasure chasing everything else away. He blessed this beautiful being with his lips, his mark, his shaft, his seed -- painting his need and pleasure for all to see this was one most favored. My Lord. My Lord. My Lord.Etero repeated the words in his mind, over and over again, senseless with pleasure and happiness.


My beauty. My own, marked so all might see...The waves of joy shattered him, spraying dreams far and wide, calling all dreamers into his realm. Yours, most exalted.Etero came, dissolving, disappearing. Slowly the smoke returned, coalesced, and he found himself again with his beautiful smoke demon in his arms. He stroked the fine face, offering another smile.You have done well, my Beauty. What would you ask of me, and I will grant it. I wish only to come to you again, Lord Grigio, to ease your pains and share your joys. Oh...such beauty. Such love. As you wish it, my Beauty.He stretched out, petting happily, tracing patterns of joy into the demon's skin. Etero drifted into smoke and reformed as a man over and over again, the demon playing with him, flirting happily. His laughter filled the air, melancholy vanished, an entire world dreaming well as the Lord of the Mist loved and was loved by one of his children. *** "Would you like to hear more?" Verde asked, laughing as the six of them gathered close and clamored that yes, they would, indeed. *** Resting silently upon a bed of mist, the Lord of Dreams slept. His limbs were long and thin, masses of silver hair covering what the mists did not. His cheeks and chin were pointed, nose long and slim, beautiful storm-cloud eyes hidden away behind heavy silvered lashes. He slept, lost in his own dream, his own fantasy, and refused to wake. The world of dreams fell in chaos around him as he dozed and dreamt that he himself was mere mortal, a king of a tiny kingdom searching endlessly for his lost love. His mother begged him to return to his duties, but he banished her from the kingdom. His sisters pleaded with him, his brothers jealously tried to stop him from completing his quest. He ignored them all. Nero himself came, sliding into his dream. "My dreams are lonely without you, son." Grigio tilted his head, admiring the Dark Lord, his father. "Do you dream, even still?" "When I wish to." Nero slid a finger along his cheek. "Though I would rather dally with the Lord of Dreams than spent time in the dreaming." The touch sparked something within him, and his kingdom grew transparent, focus on that contact. "We have not touched in many dreams. I had forgotten." "Then let me remind you, my son." The Dark Lord was suddenly naked before him, the long, black hair making the alabaster skin appear to glow. His face was cupped, and Nero drew him in for a kiss. His lips parted easily, this flavor familiar, needed,


beloved and dear. The kingdom fell away, leaving them pressed together in a mist-filled void. Nero's tongue invaded his mouth, his father never fearing to take what he wanted, from whomever he wanted. The pleasure of the kiss was not one-sided, though, the Dark Lord's tongue leaving his mouth tingling. His hands found Nero's hair and tangled in the heavy curls, so different from the smoke-fine cloud that covered him. His own ridiculous mortal clothes fell into the abyss, his body pressing against his father's. Solid and hot, Nero was no dream, no wisp of smoke or phantasm. No, the Dark Lord was as real as anything could be. Awake now, and wanting, Grigio met those endless eyes with his own.You woke me. I wanted.The Dark Lord moved against him, phallus huge and hot. He moaned, arching up against that touch, one hand reaching down to stroke and caress.You could have any touch you desire. Yes. I desire yours. Grigio nodded, fingers pulling harder at his father's shaft.As you will it. I would wake only for you. Nero groaned, taking his mouth fiercely now. The Dark Lord's hands started to move over him, leaving trails of heat along his skin. He opened to Nero's heat, mists growing around them only to be brushed away by his father's hand. I want you.Nero's hands slid to his buttocks, squeezing, caressing. I am yours.He pushed back into the touch with a moan, offering what he offered so few. You are.One of Nero's fingers slid into his body, long and hot and insistent. His own fingers tugged the swollen crown of Nero's phallus, liquid fire staining his fingertips. Nero pushed noises of pleasure into Grigio's mouth, into his mind. Two more fingers were pushed into his body, the Dark Lord opening him to Nero's will. Moaning, he began to ride those fingers, to slide happily upon that eternal will and take it within, dreams sparking deep inside. You move like one of your smoke demons, my son. They know nothing but need and pleasure. It well suits. Is that all that you are feeling now, my son? Need and pleasure?Nero's fingers continued moving within him. His eyes met pure black. Indeed.Need and pleasure, most Eternal. Need, pleasure, triumph, all flashed in the dark eyes and he was bent across a bed of dark silk, the thick heat of the Dark Lord's phallus replacing the agile fingers that had prepared him. Grigio arched, a thousand incubi born upon his cry. Nero's purr echoed in the darkness. Then the Dark Lord began to move, impaling him on the thick phallus again and again, so solid and real -- there was no way to mistake this for a dream.


I feel you. Father. Dark Lord. I feel you.His awareness pushed against Nero's, surrounding it. Good.The word was rich with Nero's self-satisfaction and with love for him. His father's tongue was as a serpent's, sliding along his spine, hot and agile. Grigio shuddered, stretched. "My Lord..." "My son." Nero's answer slithered along his skin. He pushed against Nero's heat, their skin spawning dream upon dream where it rubbed. "Glorious," murmured Nero, thrusts becoming harder, becoming everything. His pleasure spiked, peaked, heat burning away his mist, leaving him bare beneath Nero's eyes. His father's hand reached around his body, grabbing his phallus and squeezing, pulling in time with the great thrusts that rocked him. When he came he dissolved, his seed the basis for a lifetime of nightmares, a world's due of dreams. He coalesced on his own bed, Nero hard within him, seeking pleasure. It was an eon, or perhaps only a second, before Nero pushed into him for the last time, filling him with the dark, burning seed that was older than creation. Grigio rested quiet upon his bed, mind reaching out to touch his children, his pets. Waking them from dreams. Nero kissed his forehead.Until next time, Dreamer. Yes, Eternal One. Until you have need of dreams.He stroked Nero's face and faded, called to his duty, to his beloved dreamers. *** "Does Grigio never grace humans with more than dreams and nightmares? Never himself?" asked Selin. "Perhaps that is why he is lonely and bored," suggested Melin. Verde laughed and shared a knowing smile with his brother. "Indeed, my children, our dear brother does occasionally dally with those mortals who call on him. But my hunger grows and I would take my fill of you first." There were no objections among the ones chosen to winter with him and Marrone; indeed, they were more than eager to taste of the earthy pleasures of their bodies. *** "Lord Verde?" asked Liska as she lay, sated and pleased beneath Marrone's weight. "Does Lord Grigio not ever consort with his followers as you and Lord Marrone do?" "Indeed, he does. In fact, I believe my dear brother knows just such a story." He smiled over at Marrone, the dark eyes warm, his.


Marrone gave Liska one last touch of his lips and then sat, drawing Verde to him, petting with large, hot hands. "So you wish to know of Grigio's dealings with humankind? Truly you know it every time you sleep, for what are dreams but blessings from our brother? Still, I will tell you a tale of one of Grigio's humans." *** He opened his eyes, the cool touch of air tinged with incense of allysis and rhotan -- his most favored. The single lamp was shaded and draped with soft cloths and the divan he rested upon was gentle against his long body. Grigio was pleased. The scent of allysis alone was worth awakening from his perpetual dream for a moment, the texture of silk served to sweeten the pot. "Who summons me?" There was a gasp of breath and a flash of dark brown eyes before the tall form bent, the man putting his head to the floor. "My Lord Grigio. I am but a simple jeweler, Antonio. It is I who summon you to grant me favor." "Indeed?" He tilted his head. "What is so important that you wake the dreaming god?" "My beloved, Amatia, I would have her dream of me, so that she may look upon me in her waking hours with love in her heart." The prostrate form shivered. "I would do anything, my Lord of the Dreams, to win her." Love. How boring. He yawned, stretching lazily. Still...anything could have promise if properly dreamt. "And what is this anything you offer? What have you to tempt me, jeweler?" "Jewels, my Lord Morpheus, set in the most beautiful settings I can imagine." A ruby ring was placed in the bowl at his feet. Antonio hesitated and then spoke again. "If it is not enough, I have heard...that some lucky few might find the gods looking favorably upon their person and grant favor for favor. I am not the most beautiful man in Cerone, but I would offer myself to you." He snapped his fingers, looking at the ring closely. It suited him not at all, but the Lady Rossa would wear it and be pleased. "Let me see that which you offer me." "You mean me?" The man stood, revealing himself to be tall and slender, much as Grigio himself was. The dark hair was not so long though, the carriage that of a young man, still shy. And the jeweler wore far too many clothes. With a wave of his hand, the clothes fell away, dissolving like so much smoke. "Tell me your most secret dream, mortal. Intrigue me." There was silence for a moment, the man perhaps shocked to be suddenly naked, perhaps shocked to be asked such a question. It mattered not -- if there was no tale, there would be no favor. The brown eyes did not meet his as words began to spill from the pretty mouth. "Many nights the scent of leather has invaded my dreams, the taste of it as I lick the boots of a man whose face I have never seen." Interesting. Grigio looked, standing to walk around the mortal, hands like smoke sliding over fear-chilled skin. "One night's dream for your lady in exchange for each night in my service." He walked behind the man, peering into the dream that was part nightmare, part desperate desire. With a thought his flowing robes were replaced with the finest leathers -- pants and boots and vest -- and a


dove grey blouse. The crop in his hand was stiff, as was the high collar now fastened around his servant's throat. "Beginning tonight. On your knees, mortal. Worship me." A single cut with the crop punctuated his words. Antonio yelped and jerked, dropping to his knees. The dark head bent, tongue coming out to lap at his boots. Another quick cut and he snapped, "You have not begged the honor to touch my person. Do not forget with whom you dare to bargain." The mortal’s arms were fastened behind his back by bands of lead in punishment. A shudder moved through the slender body, Antonio scuttling back. "My Lord, I am sorry." "I will allow you that mistake, as you are woefully untrained and unused to service. However, it is in your interest to learn quickly." He strode over to the divan, settling himself comfortably, a goblet of fine wine appearing in his hand. "Now, beg me to fulfill your dream." "My most exalted Lord Grigio, I beg you to fulfill my dream. I plead to be of service to you." There was a sweet tremor of fear in the mortal's voice. He let his eyes trail over the hunched body. "Are you hard, mortal? Do you desire?" Another shudder went through Antonio's form. "Yes, my Lord," whispered the mortal. "Show me." He drank the nectar of fear and desire in equal amounts -- such lovely things, dreams. Trembling, the mortal straightened, eyes still on the ground. Indeed, Antonio did desire, his phallus was flushed dark pink, hard with blood. "Come closer." As the man crawled forward, Grigio reached out with the crop, gathering the clear drops of fluid sliding from the slit, a bitter-sweet offering. Then he tilted his head. "Open your mouth." Antonio did as he had been bid, shaft jerking. He nodded, pleased, smearing the leather tip over the parted lips. The mortal's tongue slipped out and then suddenly drew back, wide, worried eyes snapping up to meet his. "You do learn." Indeed one day these mortals would become as gods themselves. "You may taste the leather 'fore it tastes your skin." The sweet tongue came out again, sliding over the tip of the whip. He gave a soft purr, surprisingly aroused by the sight. It had, indeed, been too long since he'd had a pet of his very own. Antonio drew the tip of the whip into his mouth, sucking at the leather, eyes going hot. Once the tip was wet, Grigio pulled the crop away, sliding it over the mortal's chest, flicking at peaked nipples, slapping with unerring accuracy. Soft gasps met the flicks, the mortal's eyes going wider, phallus jerking hard. "For this night, you belong to me." Another wave of his hand and leather bound the man's need tight. "Your need is mine, you understand?" Antonio swallowed and nodded.


"You have leave to speak, so long as you please me." He began working the hard nipples again, the touches slowly building and swelling the hungry flesh. "Y-yes, my Lord." The words were whimpered, a soft moan joining them. Once the hard little nubs were marked and raw, he tilted his head. "Where shall the crop kiss next, mortal? Choose wisely." Antonio's mouth opened and then closed again, eyes slightly wild. "Where my Lord wills." "Such an obedient boy." As a reward he offered the mortal a touch, his long hand cupping the strong jaw for a long moment before the crop licked the man's inner thigh. Antonio nuzzled into his hand and jerked as the whip moved along his flesh. Need and want and that sweet tinge of fear were in the dark brown eyes. Again and again he tapped and worked the fine flesh until it glowed as red as the ruby he'd been given and then he began working the leather-clad cock. Antonio's noises filled the air, shouts and cries, whimpers and moans. Even as the mortal shook his head, he begged for more. The slaps stopped suddenly, Grigio standing before his mortal, long phallus pushing against the leather lacing. "Service me, Pet. Give me pleasure." The muscles in Antonio's arms clenched against their bonds and then his pet leaned forward, tugging at his laces with small, even teeth. He did not help, but he did not hinder, which seemed fair enough. It was painfully, delightfully slow, Antonio's mouth brushing against his shaft over and over as his pet used his mouth to undo the laces. At last his phallus leapt from its bindings and the mortal gasped, wide-eyed. He did not speak but simply stepped forward, blessing the tip of the mortal's tongue with a drop of his seed. Another whimper crossed Antonio's lips. The mortal's sweet mouth opening wide, brown eyes gazing up at him, wanting. "Do you want, Pet?" "Yes, my Lord, I do." "Then you may partake. Pleasure me." Antonio moaned, leaning forward to lick at his shaft. He rocked, sliding on that hot, wet tongue, letting the visceral, carnal pleasure fill him. Antonio gasped and then took him into the mortal's warm mouth. Oh... Oh, yes. It had been too long. His hips began to move, not enough to choke, but enough to keep to mortal off-balance, off-kilter. Moans and whimpers vibrated around his flesh, and Antonio swallowed convulsively each time he pressed against the mortal's throat.


"Shall I bless you, mortal? With the nectar of the gods? The power of eternal dreams?" His voice was raw, his need strong. Antonio made a sound around his phallus, eyes huge, full of need. He stepped back, savoring the need and the ache of unfulfilled desire singing between them. "You have not earned yet privilege yet, mortal." Then, just no more than his will, the bands holding his new pet's phallus dissolved as he allowed himself to spray his essence over the smooth chest. "Master!" Antonio's eyes flew to his, stricken and full of pleasure at the same time as his pet came all over his boots. Ah, excellent. Most fortuitous. Grigio strode over to the divan, relaxing, boots outstretched. "Now, Pet. You may lick them clean." Antonio gasped, shaft twitching hard. The mortal whimpered as he crawled on his knees to the divan. "Thank you, Master." The words were whispered as Antonio bent to his task. He relaxed back into the pillows, idly watching the curved back as it bent to its task. Next time mounted on a wide phallus, he thought, body stretched and needy as the hungry little mouth worked. Perhaps Violo would like to come and watch. Oh, yes. It had been too long. By the time he was finished, Antonio's eyes were closed, hips moving rhythmically against the air, soft hums of pleasure coming from him. The dawn would be approaching and, in truth, he much preferred his pets wanton and needy. He stood, his robes and his pet's clothing returning with a rush, the lead shackles gone. "You have served me well, Pet. Your intended will be given one dream." Antonio bowed before him. "Thank you, my Lord Grigio." The mortal hesitated a moment. "And...if I should need more than one dream to sway her heart to me?" "The agreement stands. One dream for each night in service." "Thank you. I shall return. If I have need of more dreams for Amatia, I mean." Grigio nodded, not bothering to hide his grin. The mortal would return. There was no other who could quench the thirst for the gods. *** Verde grinned as his twin finished his tale. Their sweet worshippers writhed together, gasping and rubbing, aroused by the story. Or perhaps it was his beloved's telling of it; his own phallus was great with need and he ached to be filled by his dear Marrone. "What happened to Antonio, great Lord?" asked Mikah, cheeks flushed, cock hard and leaking. "Did he win his lady?"


"His lady?" Liska snorted. "How could she satisfy him after his greatest wish had been fulfilled by a god?" Verde nodded, purred. "Such a smart girl. Would you like to hear what happened to Antonio?" Their children nodded and Verde leaned back against his twin, smiled up into Marrone's eyes. "Fill me now, beloved brother, and then tell them how the gods fulfill their promises." Chapter Three

Antonio set the incense in the bowl smoking, the scents of allysis and rhotan filling the air, making him instantly hard. It had been three months since he had begged a favor from the Lord Grigio, three months before he could find the courage to again offer himself and his darkest desires to the god in return for another dream to win the fair Amatia's heart. Still, his body remembered, just the god's favored scents making him tremble with fear and desire. He covered the divan with softest silks in grey tones. He lit candles. He put a gift of his own design, grey stones twisted with black and white onyx to form a collar, in the offering bowl. Unsure and still fearful, he stripped himself of his clothes, wearing only a grey robe. He knelt in front of the divan and bent his head. "My Lord Grigio," he prayed. "Your humble servant Antonio comes to you on bended knee, begging another night in return for a dream." He waited for what seemed days, then an odd ringing filled his ears. The scent of smoke filled his nose, and then his Lord appeared, long, lean body encased in leather, dove grey silk fluttering over the pale chest. "My Pet." He trembled with awe. "My Lord Grigio." "Yes." Long fingers snapped and the collar popped into those hands. "Oh... What fine work. Is this your hand, Pet?" "Yes, my Lord. I was inspired by...your immanence and our last meeting." He trembled, suddenly afraid. He'd dared to presume the god would find such a trinket made by a mere mortal to be acceptable. He received a slow, dreamy smile. "You have pleased me, Pet. You have pleased me well." Lord Grigio blinked and the collar was gone, a burn around his throat making him gasp simultaneously. He put his hands to his neck, trembling as his fingers encountered raised flesh. Oh... he was marked by his Lord, the collar permanently within his skin. "My Lord..." "Yes?" Grigio's eyes were vast, alight with a sweet fire. "It suits you, my mark." "I am yours, my Lord. Now all will know that you are my god."


"Yes." No doubt there. None. His face was brought to the leather-bound bulge. "Thank me, Pet." "May I use my hands to open your pants, my Lord?" He trembled with anticipation, mouth opening and surrounding the heat beneath the leather as he waited permission to do more. "Very good." His Lord nodded. "You may." "Thank you, my Lord," he murmured, body shivering with anticipation. His hands were steady, though, working the ties undone and opening the leather pants. Lord Grigio's phallus sprang out, long and hard and dark, the scent alone of his Lord's flesh nearly making him come. His Lord rubbed that hot shaft over his lips, the drop tingling and sharp on his tongue. He whimpered, tongue coming out to lick at his lips, gasping as the pure flavor exploded within him, sending pleasure to every part of him. "It is an addiction, the seed of gods. Be sure you wish to partake in it." The dreamy, soft voice was a caress, a soft hand. "I would do anything for you, my Lord," Antonio whispered, his worst fears coming true. He was not here to earn another dream so that Amatia might love him; he was here so that he could service his god. "Yes, Pet. You will." His forehead was caressed. "Worship me." "With everything I am, Lord Grigio." He nuzzled for no more than a moment into that warm, all-giving hand, and then turned his attention to the heat of his Lord's phallus. He licked the strong, burning drops from the tip and then took the head into his mouth, lips wrapping tight around the bottom of the crown as he sucked. The scent of pleasure and leather wrapped around him, surrounded and aroused him in a manner nothing else ever could. He whimpered, head beginning to bob as he pulled the long phallus in as far as he could and then pulled back to just the head again. He sucked as hard as he could, worked as hard as he could to bring pleasure to his god. A delicious humming filled the air, low and sweet, a tune that had haunted his dreams for years. The sound of his Lord's pleasure. That made him work harder, made him take that phallus deeper, trying to take it all. For his Lord. The mark on his neck throbbed, every motion reminding him of its presence. His mark. His Lord's mark. His own body was hard, trembling on the brink. Not even a touch to his body and yet he was ready to spend himself at his Lord's feet. Such was the power of those smoky eyes. He continued to suck, to lick, his lips sliding along the perfect heat. A hand touched his cheek, his hair. "You are mine. Accept me and I will fulfill your dreams." Then heat filled his mouth, hot and sharp and salty. He swallowed his Lord's seed into himself, swallowing again and again and again, and still it kept coming. He refused to lose a drop of this precious gift, though, and continued to swallow even as his head swam from lack of breath.


When the precious heat stopped and his head cleared, he found himself surrounded by cool mist, kneeling before a huge bed. "Welcome to your new home, Pet." "Oh my Lord! I never dreamed...well, maybe I dreamed it, but I never thought I would be so honored." He bowed his head, tears staining his cheeks at the honor. He had thought that he would be allowed to serve his Lord only now and then; to be brought here instead... "Thank you, Lord Grigio." "You have pleased me so far. Take care that you continue." Smoky creatures surrounded him, fingers ethereal and teasing, sliding over his skin. He shivered, his skin so sensitive, his body wanting. "I will devote my entire life to that pursuit, my Lord." A sensual laugh brushed his ear. "Indeed, with our Lord? Your life will grow and grow." "All the better to honor him with." He was trembling, needing, the sweet ethereal caresses making his desire sharp and immediate, but he would not come without his Lord and Master's permission. Grey eyes watched him as mists coalesced around the slim body, touching and pleasuring his Lord. "Your pleasure is mine. Your heart. Your very soul." "Yes, my Lord. Though I did not know it -- it has always been so." He could feel the years of his life falling away, becoming distant until he could barely remember working, loving, living, only his dreams remaining sharp, in focus. "Yes." Those long legs appeared before him, leather boots shiny and close. "Now, Pet. Your pleasure, offer it up." He called out, the sound resembling his Lord's name as his body shook, seed spraying from him and splashing his Lord's boots. Lord Grigio spoke not a word, just petted his hair until his shivers eased and then eased his mouth towards those boots. Whimpering, another shudder of pleasure moving through him, he began to lick his Lord's boots clean. Those ghostly, soft, smoke hands kept stroking him, petting his skin, admiring him. Who would believe that to serve a god could make one feel so cherished? Most tales spoke of the gods as selfish, hard to please, to be nothing but feared. He was happy he had pushed beyond his own fears and called upon the Lord of Dreams. His Lord was kissed, stroked, mist covering the beautiful body until seed rained down upon him again. Oh, such honor, to be kissed by his Lord's seed. He would pray to live forever in the service of his god. Beware, Pet, I might decide you are one I will not do without and forever with a god is a very long time. The touch to his mind was deep, terrifying, overwhelming. He bowed his head, shaking, terrified, and yet wondrous with awe at the same time. "Yes, my Lord and Master." "Yes." Another touch stroked his hair. "Sleep, Pet. Dream." He curled up at his Lord's feet, letting himself be led into dreams.


*** "So the gods and their worshippers are well-suited to them, like us to you," noted Liska, the flush of satisfaction upon her cheeks. Verde looked again at his brother, and it was Marrone who told them the truth of the matter. "No, no. It does not always work out that way...sometimes the worshipper chooses the wrong god." *** Arancione could see the prayers made in his name, the petitions for favor. Each one was like a flame rising from the fire in his hearth. Most would go unattended -- only the most worthy would receive a visit from him. One rose higher than the others, shone a little brighter, and he ran his hand through it. A prince, the principality quite well-off. This was perhaps worthy of personal attention, worthy of his time. And if it were not, he would punish the man for his impudence. He was there with a thought. The temple was within the castle walls and smelled fresh, well-used and cared for. The altar was made of gold, as was the bowl where a small fire burned in his honor. The walls were covered with rich tapestries that told the tales of his exploits. The man meant to represent himself in them bore no likeness to him, however it was a comely enough visage that he would let it go. Two men waited for him. One young and well-dressed, an air of innocence around him. The other was one in his service, a high priest by his golden robes, though Arancione had not dealt with this one before. Really, the designs on the robe were too much for an acolyte and with a wave of his hand, the robe became a simple garment. "This had better be good." The priest dropped to his knees, dragging the younger man with him. "My Lord Arancione. The king of these lands has asked me to plead your favor." He raised an eyebrow. "Surely this young pup is no king?" "No. No. The boy is King Hodor's youngest son, the most innocent and beautiful of men, offered up to you." The prince jerked, looking over at the priest in surprise. Arancione walked slowly around the pair. The boy was beautiful, and he was lacking a familiar. The last boy had been terribly clumsy. A beautiful mouth made for sucking, but not even that had been enough to overcome the unfortunately ungraceful feet. And humans smelled so greasy as they burned up. "Tell me, priest, how many sons does this king who could not be bothered to come himself have?"


"Six. Six, my Lord, but Prince Valetto, he is the most pleasing, I swear it." He stopped and looked at the priest in shock. "Six? The man cannot be bothered to come himself and he sends his sixth son as barter." He snorted. "This must be a petty favor he seeks." "The king wishes your support in the marriage of his heir to the Zintian's oldest daughter, Priscillia. The marriage, should both sides agree and a child be produced, would bring great wealth and honor to this principality and, in turn, to the god we worship." "Is King Zintia giving him trouble? I'd have thought he’d be well pleased to get rid of that troublesome child -- she is far too like Gialla in temperament." These silly mortals never failed to surprise him. Zintia had begged his favor many times; it would be a small matter to smooth the way for this marriage. "In truth, it is the Lady Priscilla who is reluctant to...have relations with the heir apparent." The priest's voice was serious, but the prince made a soft noise, much like a chuckle. He pinned the boy with a glare. "You find something about these proceedings amusing?" Dark, laughing eyes met his own. He could see the natural amusement and ebullience fighting to spring free, the boy's energy written in the black curls, the wiry body. "No, my Lord Arancione." How lovely. He raised an eyebrow, letting none of his interest show. "And yet you laughed." Those high cheekbones darkened, but the amusement didn't fade. "The idea of the beautiful Princess Priscillia enamored of my eldest brother is worthy of laughter, my Lord." "I take it your eldest brother does not share your pretty face?" "My Lord, the Prince Piotr is afflicted with a weakness of the skin, which leaves him covered in...spots." The priest slapped the prince's backside sharply. "You should show respect, Pup. He is your god." He waved at hand at the priest, the boy was his to discipline. "You will not touch him again." He turned his attention once more to the boy. "And yet, for all his ugliness, he is to be wed to the beautiful Priscilla and will one day rule the lands, while you are bartered away to curry favor." "Indeed." There was no disappointment in the sound, more curiosity, surprise. "There is little use in a sixth son waiting to rule, my Lord Arancione. In truth, I have never sought the throne." "No? Tell me then, what have you sought? What do you bring to this bargain?" With a thought he conjured up a throne and sat. "Convince me to accept you as payment for my facilitating the marriage between your brother and Pricillia." Those fearless dark eyes met his own again, the glint of humor unshaken. "I have little, in truth, my Lord. A fair face, an average mind, a good temper -- verily, I would not be surprised to find my father finds me easiest to offer, as my gifts are shallow and apt to fade in time. If it would please you, I shall swear undying adoration and service." "You don't seem very adoring."


"I haven't much practice, I'm afraid." "Prince Valetto! Watch yourself!" The priest's voice was furious, eyes flashing. "Yes, the boy doesn't seem to be taking this very seriously, does he, priest?" He waved his hand again, this time stripping the boy and spreading the prince face down on the floor on front of his throne. "You may practice while your father's priest and I negotiate." The prince gave a soft sound, but stayed still, silent. The priest was sweating, eyes fastened to the floor, the stench of fear thick. "Really, this hardly seems like a fair trade -- despite the boy's obvious charms. Does your King really believe that I will smooth the way for this wedding with nothing more than this child as recompense?" "Yes. Yes, my Lord." The priest's voice was lost in the flash of music that was as familiar to Arancione as breath. Violo stood beside him, eyes flashing. "Your priest lies, brother. This child is worth more than they let on. I know, his mother entrusted his exact match to me when they were but babes still wet from the womb." "Well then, the favor is not granted. Tell your king I have taken the boy as my own." He waved his hands, bringing himself, the prince and his brother to his hearth. "Explain," he demanded of Violo, leaving the boy, still naked, prostrate on the floor before them. "Bright day to you also, brother." Violo leaned back, his cosset of clouds supporting him immediately. "The good king was told by a seer -- one of Grigio's hacks, of course, overwhelmed by that damn'd herb they insist upon -- that the number seven would be the death of him. "The queen, a fine woman, raised to honor my name, was in a panic when she bore not one but two tiny princes. She offered her life in exchange for her seventh son and I accepted." Violo stroked his arm. "She weaves for me now, singing the days away like a tiny bird." He moved closer to his brother. "And the boy?" Violo's eyes darkened, the flash erotic and sensual, intriguing. "I have only recently claimed him as my own. His capacity for pain, for need -- brother, it knows no bounds. In truth, I believe the queen knew as she carried them that they were meant for us, and made them for our service." "So the king wished to give me what was already mine?" Arancione growled and sent a request to his brother Turchino. Let the kingdom of Hodor feel now his wrath in the form of Turchino's storms. He would make it up to his brother later. "Are we to play together then, brother? Please tell me the boys are identical twins and not just fraternal?" He enjoyed playing with Violo; none of his brothers or sisters had the capacity for perversion that Violo did. In truth, the purple god was the only one he deemed worthy of his time. Violo nodded. "Indeed, as one unto another, although my Eric does wear my marks, my colors where


your lad's skin is lacking them." His brother leaned forward, touching their lips together. "Once you have explored to your satisfaction, my Bright Love, then come to me and we shall make them sing together, you and I." He licked Violo's lips and smiled. "As you wish, brother-mine." Those dark eyes gleamed, his brother sweet and sharp beneath his lips for a moment. "I leave you to your fun, brother. I would not have my Bright One played as a fool." He stepped back glaring as his brother disappeared. He was no fool. He turned his ire on the boy before him. "Well, child? Have you anything to say for yourself?" "No, my Lord. I... This is beyond my understanding, indeed." He growled; the boy had seen him all but made a fool of, rescued by his brother. "You will adore me. And serve me. And spend your life in the pursuit of making me happy." "I... I will try to please you, Lord Arancione." The voice was unsure, confused, yet still not frightened. "Try?" He rose, growing taller and taller until he towered over the boy and, indeed, the room that was his own. "Try?" The boy seemed to shrink, face and eyes still hidden. Coming back down to human size, he glared down at the boy. "You will do more than try or you will be punished. My last familiar warmed my rooms for the scant time he burned as a log on my fire." "Yes, my Lord." The dark curls bobbed, falling in waves upon the floor. "I meant no disrespect." "Good." He let the fire in the hearth blaze higher and shed his clothes with a single thought before settling on a large, padded chair. "Get up and come pleasure me." "I..." Those dark eyes met his as Valleto stood, curls falling around the finely-built body. "How shall I pleasure you, Lord Arancione? I...I am not experienced in this." Of course not. Of course the boy was innocent, that was after all part of his charm, was it not? "Go to the kitchen and find me something sweet," he snarled. As the boy disappeared he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing. Being a god could be such a trial. *** "Poor Lord Arancione," murmured Melin. "He is only as poor as his arrogance, child. Unlike my beloved and myself, he does not favor his human children." Marrone did not approve of Arancione. He was too quick to dismiss his beloved Verde, who


simply shone. How could it be that not everyone saw that? "No, he does not. He is far more suited to his special pets." Verde rubbed against him, warming him as always. "His special pets, Lords?" asked Mikah, arms around the three triplets and their sister. "Oh, yes. Dragons." There were gasps and the sweetlings moved closer, hands reaching out to touch himself and his beloved. "Would you like to hear of them?" They nodded, eyes wide. Chuckling, Marrone began his next tale. *** Arancione moved from temple to temple, growing more and more discontent as he surveyed the sycophants that purported to follow him. These frail mortals could be fun, but they were weak and greedy, self-centered. He needed the pure love and adulation of his most precious children. With that in mind, he traveled East, searching for the caves of his golden dragons. One called for him, a soft light welcoming him, the magic of his children reaching out to caress his spirit, soothe them and adore him from afar. He followed the call, finding a warm, brightly lit cave. Bright gold eyes shone over at him, scales like coins tinkling toward him. "Oh, great Lord, how honored you have made me." "Your adoration deserves a return in kind, my dragon. Pray tell me your name, that I might know you." "Greath, beloved Lord." His dragon bowed deep, long beard dragging the cave floor. The heavy wings were folded back in submission and respect, tail quivering with anticipation and honor. He purred, moving closer, hands sliding over the metallic scales. "Greath. A name befitting a beast of beauty, power and intelligence. You glow my beauty, my fires light you from within." "It is our greatest honor, to bear your light, most Honored One." The deep voice rumbled, muscles rippling beneath his hand. He felt his desire quicken, the strength and beauty of this Greath, this dragon filling him with need. He stepped close, raised the great head and brought their mouths close, breathing the same air together. The beautiful beast morphed for him, heeding his will. Soon a beautiful golden man stood before him, shining eyes and wings giving the dragon-man's true self away. He drew his hands over shining muscles, chest and belly, thighs and buttocks, his own skin quivering, eager for this dragon's touch. "Might I offer you my pleasure, most Bright Lord? Might I have the honor of touching your skin?" He took a deep breath that smelled of pure fire and gold, threaded through with need. "Please." Hands warm as summer's kiss grazed over his skin, sliding randomly, exploring. Pleasure and arousal


poured through the fine, tiny scales, the dragon feeding him with beautiful hunger. He let his head fall back, hair sliding against his back, his buttocks. A soft moan passed his lips, blessing and praise. A shudder shook his golden child, a rumbled sounding. "My beautiful Lord, nothing is so sweet." "No, there is nothing else that is. Take me to your bed, Greath, and taste of your god." "As you will it, Bright Lord." He was drawn through the hoard of jewels and gold, leading him to a pile of orange and yellow silks, piled high. "It is unworthy of you, Lord, but it is the best your devoted one has." "I do not need the best -- your best is all I ask. It is all I ever ask, but only you, my dear ones, seem to give unfailingly." He stroked a golden cheek, desire and need pouring through him. They tumbled into the sheets, dragon-wings as silk beneath his fingers, fluttering as much as the fingers against his belly. He brought their lips together, slowly, taking his time, breath whispering against golden skin. The kiss was soft but solid, heady, intoxicating. The weight of the dragon's mind was massive compared to the fluttering of mortals', and the low song honored him with unerring and unending respect and passion. It was heady indeed, filling him with pleasure and joy, making him need, want, hunger, thirst, ache for the dragon's touch. As always, he was given each touch, each stroke, tongue and tail and hands sliding over him and stoking his internal flames. He returned them a hundred fold, bestowing his love and pleasure on the man-beast. His shaft was taken in a hot hand, drawn into a scorching mouth, liquid-gold eyes blazing in adoration. "Such sweet prayers to your lord, Sir Dragon." He slid his hands over Greath's cheeks, touching the place where they were joined. The fire between them was intense. You are loved above all else, Bright Lord. You are the basis of all joy. The scales along his dragonman's back rippled as its head bobbed, sucking him deeper and harder. He stretched over Greath's back, stroking the bright scales, stoking the fire within the great dragon. Greath's purr vibrated along his shaft, clawed fingers on his hips, his belly. His cry of pleasure split the air as one of those claws scraped along his belly. He growled, hips starting to move, pushing his phallus into the perfect heat of Greath's mouth. His most favored opened to him, welcomed him, needed him. He gave of himself, pushing in deep and hard, taking the hot mouth as was his due. The heat between them grew, the very air crackling with flame. He cried out as his pleasure exploded inside him, spraying out as seed. He could feel the answering shudders, the heat flaring as the dragon lost control and reverted to its natural form, curling carefully around him. One wing draped over him, blanketing him, offering him the greatest honor of exposing the vulnerable heart. Purring, he laid his head on the beast's breast, letting his dragon-child soothe his mind as his body has been.


Gentle and strong, the beat of undying adoration washed over him, lulled him into a sweet rest. Chapter Four

"Oh! How lovely! What a beautiful story," murmured Liska. "Do all gods have their favorites?" asked Melin. "Weren't you listening, Melin? Lord Verde already told of us Grigio and his smoke-demons." Verde nodded. "Yes, indeed." "Oh, tell us more!" called the triplets. "Yes, tell us of one of the women," murmured Liska. "What of your dear mother -- who are her favorite children?" "Ah, the unicorns are her chosen children," said Marrone, thick fingers sliding over Verde's body. "The unicorns so like our own centaurs." Verde laughed, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Not exactly like, beloved. While they have a great horn in the middle of their heads, they are seriously lacking another horn further below. Marrone laughed, the sound deep and husky. "You are incorrigible, my brother." "I try. Now tell our dear ones of our mother." *** Bianca wandered through the meadow, white flowers blooming beneath each step. The sky was clear, the day lovely. Then again, this place was solely her own, always bright and lovely -- not even her own Dark Lord dared enter uninvited. Bianca relaxed, nude and free, hair flowing in the breeze, ensnaring hundreds of bright butterflies in one heartbeat, releasing them with another. Finally, she reached the center of the meadow, stretching out beside the clear pool on the softest grass, and rested. After a time, she became aware of a presence joining her. A softwhinnyconfirmed it was one of her beloved unicorns. She smiled, sitting up with her hair draping about her. "Do I have a visitor come for me?" The white beast lowered its head until the horn touched her thigh.Thunderhooves, my lady Bianca, your own mare. Bianca reached up, hands running over the softest pelt, a silken mane. Such perfection. "Sweet Thunderhooves, how does my dear one find the morning?"


Bright, my lady, now that you are here.The great head raised, muzzle finding her arm, soft lips nibbling so gently upon her inner wrist. Her laughter drew the cherry blossoms raining down upon them from the trees. "I miss my beautiful ones, my most dear. I have been away from this place too long." Will you stay, my Lady? Frolic with me?She could swear the liquid blue eyes teased her. Bianca reached out stroked the velvety chest of the unicorn, doing a bit of teasing on her own. "I will not resist such a sweet offer, pretty one." You honor me, Bright Lady.The unicorn tossed her head, rearing up and transforming into a beautiful woman with a silky white mane and tail. The horn that grew from her forehead was as silver as the purest metal. She nodded, smiling up and opening her arms to welcome her sweet one into her bright embrace. Thunderhooves slid into her arms, skin warm and silky. "Oh, my Lady, to frolic with you is to know true joy." "You were made for pleasure and happily, lovely beast." She stroked the soft beast of her pretty one, cooing at the warmth. "Show me your joy, your hunger." "As my lady wishes." Thunderhooves bent, bringing their mouths together in a warm kiss that taste of sweet grasses and sunshine. Giggling, giddy with joy, Bianca reached up, slid her fingers around the living spiral of silver pointing toward the sky, rubbing gently. Thuderhooves arched, eyes rolling back with pleasure. "Lady!" "Yes, pretty one?" She laughed again, one hand sliding over the horn again and again, the other sliding back to brush the base of Thunderhooves' tail. "Such pleasure, Lady! More than I have ever imagined." The lovely woman writhed atop Bianca's body, eager for every sensation she offered. Their lips came together again and again, Bianca drinking the nectar of pure desire and blessed pleasure from perfect lips. Her beloved ones -- how she adored them, such magic. Thunderhooves slid a hand between them, finding her sex, fingers stroking against her. Purring, she opened to the touch, her inner thighs painted with the sweet evidence of her hunger. "For us, lady? Such honor and pleasure and brightness you shower us with!" Yes. She loved them so, defended their innocence even to her own Dark Lord. Her bright child moved with her, sharing in her pleasure and joy. They rocked and rubbed, Bianca feeding her own happiness and drinking passion, cries becoming rainbows that arced overhead. "Lady! My Lady!" Thunderhooves sent sweet noise into the sky as she came.


Bianca's own climax brought a shower of crystalline raindrops that made music and splashed color as they landed, making them prance together and shake their heads -- Bianca following her sweet child into the most fair and graceful form. Let us run, most favored! Let us play! Thunderhooves neighed and whinnied, shaking her head.Yes, Lady, yes! Their laughter mingled and they galloped over the green hills, the sun glinting off two horns -- one silver, one the purest ivory. *** Sweet Melin was curled in Marrone's arms, watching him as he told his tale, with wide eyes. "So beautiful." "Indeed, my child, our mother is the most beautiful of all." "And what of your father's pets?" asked Mikah. Marrone chuckled. "Ah, where Bianca is invoked, Nero soon follows." "His pets are these rather nasty snakey things." Verde sounded very sure, sweet nose wrinkling. "Not all of them, Beloved." "That is true, there is Nocturmus." Their followers shifted, moved in closer, wide-eyed as they waited for the tale. *** Nero stopped mid-thrust, his slithering minion whimpering, pushing up as it begged mutely. He pulled out and waved it away, sending it scuttling from his bower. Something had caught his attention. Someone. Small and black-hearted, deliciously mischievous and, at the moment, extremely annoyed. He spread himself out over the night sky, searching for the presence that had made itself known. There. In the darkest temple, where his highest high priests performed their dark magicks and offered forbidden sacrifices to him. He entered the dark cavern, staying invisible as he searched for the dark spirit that had caught his attention. Small and dark, black wings vibrating with aggravation, the little impling's eyes were glowing, clawed fingers silently working at the iron bars. How utterly delightful.


A glance at the priests confirmed that they were too sleepy to make sure their captive was remaining such. Oh, it was time to have some fun! A single thought bent the bars, just a touch, not quite enough to give the little one a chance to escape, but enough to make him think he could. Those eyes flashed, nose wrinkling, sniffing. Suspicious. A low whisper filled the air, thick and heavy and dripping with malice, keeping his priests asleep with a simple charm as the little beast started trying to work himself free. He moved closer to the cage, sliding a touch no stronger than a light breeze along one of the black wings. The slight form stilled, pointed chin lifting. Then, deliberately, those pitch-black wings flared, brushing the sides of the cage. Oh, this was a smart one. He purred lightly, the sound echoing around the cavern, just barely audible, but nonetheless lingering in the air. Another caress -- such soft wings. He would like them to stroke him to completion. Later. When this black-hearted imp begged for it. "The Black Lord." His title was whispered in a tongue that had been forgotten millennia ago, the words themselves guttural and ripe with devilish promise. "Indeed, Noctumus." He plucked the impling's true name from that black heart, still remaining dark and invisible. The look on the mischievous face was neither scared nor shocked but instead a clever mixture of pleasure and wicked curiosity. "The Elders said you had passed away from our lands, never to return. I flew to find the truth of it." "And got yourself caught, impling." He stroked the fine, warm skin of Noctumus' chest, his own hands cold as the night. "I find it amusing how my own always find each other, even when they don't know it." He received a shiver, the softest moan sounded. "Aye, they had a net and some smoke that made me sleep. In truth, at first I expected your honored son to appear." He chuckled. "The Lord of Dreams would not know what to do with one as black as you. You were made for me, Noctumus." "I was." Those wings fluttered again, pressing unconsciously against the bars. "And now I suppose you expect me to set you free." He slid in and out of his corporeal form, teasing the impling. "No, Dark Lord." Those bright eyes glimmered, the stance of his impling sure and proud. "To expect from You is sacrilege. I simply hope." "And what do you hope, Noctumus? What would you have from your Dark Lord?" "I would be free from these bars, Dark Lord. I would spread my wings for you." With a thought, the cage dissolved as Nero took on his human form. He fully expected Noctumus to attempt to flee, though he hoped he was to be proven wrong -- the black-hearted impling would bring


such delightful mischief to his days. Those black wings spread wide, lifting the tiny body off the ground immediately. His cheek was caressed with one wing and those eyes flashed at him in thanks. Then the impling turned, screeching and throwing coals at the sleeping priests, waking them and driving them from the temple with a most delicious fury. How utterly delightful! Nero grew wings of his own, enormous and blacker than the night, a single beat of which would bend the trees. Noctumus turned, a needy cry echoing through the temple, the impling spending fiery seed at the simple sight of his glory. Oh yes. This black child of the night would serve him well. *** Noctumus flew as fast as his wings would carry him, zipping between trees and branches and raindrops, the long tail of a virgin held tight in his fist, her infuriated family screaming behind. Oh, such fun! His most adored Dark Lord sent him on the most clever errands, ones most suited to his talents and needs. Defiling virgins, rusting swords in their sheaths, ripping the tack of soldiers, and sending messages down to the Beloved Son. That had been delicious fun, dallying with the dreaming demons as he awaited the Lord of Dreaming's response. Once the Dark Lord had offered him over to the Eldest Son for use. Pleasant enough, those fingers could draw out the most perfect pain. Still... His black heart belonged to one will alone. Come to me, Noctumus.The call was clear and undeniable; his Dark Lord wanted him. Yes, my Dark Lord.He whispered the charm that would deliver him into the presence of the one he loved above all, the pale tail shimmering in the darkness as he offered it over. His Lord laughed as he took the tail. "Was there much shrieking?" "A truly amazing amount, indeed. She was unharmed, as you requested, not a drop of her blood spilled." One of his Dark Lord's hands slid along his cheek. "Excellent. Let them squeal like pigs; if there is no blood, my Lady has little case for complaint. This time." Then his Lord laughed, the sound large and dark. He shivered under that laughter, overcome with its power and pleasure. His Dark Lord saw and stepped closer, eyes glittering close to his face. "What would you have as a


reward, my black imp?" "Your favor, the feel of your will upon me, my Dark Lord." The answer was always the same, as unchangeable as his need. Nero reached out, stroking his wings with a firm touch. "Would you bring me to pleasure, Noctumus?" "Yes, my Dark Lord. As you will." His wings flared, rustling with need and hunger. Nero waved a hand and Noctumus' hands were suddenly bound in front of him. "Use only your wings." Noctumus nodded, slightly off-balance. It was a rare thing, to stand upon the ground, and he tended to hover around his Lord and touch. Now he carefully stretched out a single wing, sliding the feathers over the perfect skin. The dark eyes half closed, a soft purr sounding, letting him know his touch was accepted, enjoyed. He settled in, continuing to touch, fluttering his wing, awakening the great need within his Lord, free wing held out for balance. The pale phallus filled slowly, becoming pink, the very tip red. He brushed the tip of his wing along the shaft, fascinated, enthralled. It quivered, a soft sound of pleasure coming from his Lord. Noctumus repeated the gesture, lingering this time over the heavy sacs. The purr grew louder, the heavy phallus twitching. He began to stroke steadily, fluttering his wings around his Lord, more confident, more steady. "My imp!" A shudder moved through his Lord and then another, liquid leaking from the tip of that great phallus. "Yours, Dark Lord. All of me." He redoubled his efforts, needing nothing more than his Lord's pleasure. "I know." One of his Lord's hands slid over his wings, leaving pleasure in their wake. He cried out, wings fluttering, buffeting his Lord. "Oh!" "That is what I feel as you touch me," murmured the Dark Lord. He met that beloved, overwhelming gaze. "You honor me." "I do. You have earned it." His wings were stroked again and then his Lord's hand fell away. "Now finish it." "Yes, my Lord." He moved his wings faster, with stronger strokes, pulling all the sensation he could from his Lord's body. A low moan sounded, heralding the peak of his Lord's pleasure. His own need answered, his focus upon his Lord complete. Burning, cream seed sprayed from the great phallus, painting his wings with pleasure. Noctumus slumped to the ground, wings beating slowly, filled with bliss. The bands around his hands slid away, one of the Dark Lord's minions coming and taking him to the bed, cleaning him and offering him dark purple grapes.


He accepted the dark orbs, eating them and purring at their sweetness. Such a life! To love and live for his Dark Lord. To be allowed to fly. He would suffer a thousand thousand cages to do it. *** Her fury could be felt for ages, vibrating even down into his dark lair, cracking the stones and causing his beloved pets to hide and cower from her light. Heated as nothing else could be, she descended to him, hair flowing, sparks flying from her eyes. Her beauty knew no bounds. "Your beastly followers have invaded the sacred fields. One of my own has been slain!" Her eyes fell upon his beauties, moving away from her light which burned so. "I shall destroy all I find until my debt is paid in full." Growling, he stood and faced her down. She was beautiful in her anger, but his pets were well-trained, or not, as he wanted and he would not have her destroy all the hard work he'd already put into his own pleasure. "Calm yourself, Madame. What have you lost?" "Calm myself? Do not dare to take that tone with me, Lord Nero. Not when your own followers enter my sacred fields and destroy that which is dearest to me in your name!" Her voice was huge, liquid diamond tears upon her cheeks. A single, bloody horn rested in her hand. He wiped her tears away with his tongue. "Shall I send one of my serpents to serve you, Lady? That he might pull your sorrow from your heart and ease your pain?" The horn went flying through the air, pinning one unfortunate serpent to the wall by the throat. "That will not satisfy me." Growling, he reached out, the serpent and horn flying to his hand. "Be careful, Lady, that I do not strangle you with the bodies of my pets and force you with your own's remains." With a thought he brought them to her own bower. "Destruction does not displease me, but the kind you bring is always so tedious to clean up. You want to fight -- we shall do it in your pristine palace, Madame. If there be blood, let it flow on your floors." "First blood was spilt in the name of the Dark Lord, your hymn brought high as the ichors of one most innocent and beloved stained their unworthy hands." She snapped her fingers, the white wall reflecting the sight of a band of mortals trampled by sharpened hooves the color of ivory. "Your followers are not welcome within my fields, Nero. They were beneath honor and I will not allow their misguided blasphemy." "And so you punished them -- why do you bother me with this? You know how the mortal coil bores me, Madame." "Shall I destroy a thousand of your scaled children and then see if you are bored, my Lord?" He roared. "You think your glorified horse is worthy of even one of my serpents? It was mortals who killed your precious beast, and it was mortals who paid the price."


"One unicorn, Nero! One perfect beauty for every ten thousand of your slimy beloved children who cannot even face the light!" Her screams shook the bower; her tears were crystalline jewels tinkling upon the marble floor. "And your beauties would wither and die in my darkness, Madame. They are weak without your hand to guide them. I would not harm a single scale on any of my pets' bodies in the name of your horned horses." He stepped close, staring her down. "Do not waste your wiles on me, woman. I am immune." He was shoved backward by the force of her will. "You will offer me the respect I am due, Lord Nero, or you will learn to beware the light." "You are due no respect when you give none!" His own anger was growing in leaps and bounds. Nothing could infuriate him the way she could. "None? I deny my Lord nothing! I simply ask that my sacred spaces remain undefiled!" She advanced on him, light and fury made beauty. "I did not defile them!" He did not back down. "Your followers did!" "So take it up with them! I was busy." She stopped, face going still. "Busy. Indeed. As you wish it, I will take my complaint to your mortals. Forgive me for interrupting." He blinked and found himself back in his dark home, alone. He growled and called one of his servants to him. The dark fairy bowed. "My Lord?" "Bianca is on the warpath. If she kills all my followers, let me know so that I may repay her in kind." "As you wish, my Lord." With a rustle of black-as-night gossamer wings, his servant was gone. He picked up a whip and headed to his dungeon. One of his beauties would pay for Bianca's interruption. *** Nero growled and began his search again. Someone had heard Lady Bianca's pleas and had hidden his winged mischief maker away. He had no desire to beg Noctumus' whereabouts from the lady herself -- he was not in the mood to owe her a favor -- but if he could not discover the implet's whereabouts on his own, he would soon have to resort to just that.


Disembodied grey eyes appeared before him, followed slowly by the form of the Dreaming Lord. "Father. It is rumored something dear to you has been lost." "Indeed, Grigio, it is no rumor." "One of my succubae brings word that your lost item is trapped in a cage of light and mirrors. It is quite trapped, but I do believe you would be successful in retrieving it, as the one who keeps it is dear to you and quite vexed at having to control it." The voice was dreamy, lost, filled with riddles always. "So it is your mother who has it? Keeps my black hearted imp in light's bosom?" He growled. What was she trying to do, kill the implet? "Not at all. Indeed, the one sleeping eternal at our Bright Lady's feet is most dear to the Lady Gialla." "What? Speak clearly child." Grigio really was the most annoying of his children. "Truly annoying? Then find your lost toy yourself." One grey eyebrow arched. "Was that clear?" Then Grigio disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Nero roared. He was the father of them all. Without him, there would be nothing. He plucked a succubus from the earth, crushing its life out between his fingers. Then, to be fair, an incubus to join it. He would have Grigio's assistance in this matter. The thunder of a thousand nightmares set stampeding towards his followers was deafening, the terrified screams more so. Grigio's voice rang out, soft but rich with fury.All things sleep, Nero. All things dream. Stay your hand. I will stay it, the moment you return and tell me what you know!Let Grigio destroy all his followers -- he would make more. Gods, after all, did not need to sleep or dream. His snake demons began writhing in fear, moaning softly as Grigio appeared, clothed in smoke, grey eyes cold.I come offering help and you offer insult, then threat. What do your beloved children dream of, Father? He growled. "I do not care at this moment for any other than Noctumus. I have no patience for your riddles!" Not even his beloved snake demons were above sacrifice. He looked at Grigio. "Please, my son. There has never been another I have cared for so, outside of your mother and yourself." "He is where I told you he was. My Lady Mother stole Gialla's favorite's mind away, trapped it in a mirror and will not release her until the winged one dies." Grigio's smoke was thick, heavy.Gialla will not release your pet, for her Lynnea is most favored and your cold daughter is fond. "You did not say that." He pointed out, frowning. "Can you trick Bianca? Make her believe my imp is dead when in fact he only sleeps?" "I could, but if I were to be discovered, the Lady of Light's fury challenges even your own." Smoky grey eyes grew distant. "Indeed he is tired, your winged imp, and would sleep too deep to be believed alive. Shall I fetch his body for you, Father?"


"Yes, my son. Bring him back to me unharmed." Grigio nodded and faded so slowly, reappearing with Noctumus in his arms, faded to pale grey. "I believe this is yours." He whimpered, taking his winged one in his arms. "Can you wake him?" "Indeed." Grigio bent close. In this, Grigio had no master. "Listen to me, little one. Your beloved Lord has you now and bids you wake for him. Come now, up out of the dreaming, and see him." Eyes gone almost white opened. "My Dark Lord." "Noctumus! My dark angel. You are safe now." He kissed his mischievous implet, breathing himself into the slender body. I owe you, my son. And I will stand beside you against your mother's wrath should her attention turn to you in this matter. Noctumus darkened with every breath in his arms, wings filling, eyes growing bright. He winked.And Gialla owes us both for the return of her favorite . Grigio offered him a quiet look, the mists growing deeper.Enjoy your favored, Father . He nodded at Grigio, sparring his son one last thought before his attention was consumed by Noctumus. He stroked the still-limp wings, turning them black as night wherever he touched. "My Dark Lord. I dreamt of your kiss." Noctumus curled close, sharp and cool, skin becoming pitch black. "Did it match the reality?" Nero asked, bending to cover dark lips with his own. "Never." Those eyes shone, shimmered, his imp's devotion complete. "Good." He returned their lips together, kissing Noctumus breathless. His imp was shuddering, moaning softly in his arms, lips and eyes and mind offered eagerly. With a thought he was in his bed, Noctumus spread out beneath him as he showered his most favorite with kisses and touches. The wings were spread wide, his imp's cries eager and rich. He kissed his way down the slender chest, stopping to bring each nipple to hardness, dark nubs that tasted sweet. Love poured over him -- and damnation to those who dared say the dark children did not know love! They dove beneath it like waves and welcomed it with open arms. He nuzzled the thin ribs with his nose and licked at the sweet navel, slowly making his way toward Noctumus' phallus. "Oh, my Dark Lord! I am your own. Yours." The sounds were sweet, needy, shocked and wanton. "Yes, mine." He stroked the slender hips and nuzzled the little balls, teasing his imp before licking his way up the hard, dark phallus and taking it into his mouth. "Oh..." Those dark eyes glowed for him. "Dark Lord! Such honor, such pleasure!"


Your pleasure is mine. He watched the gamin face as he sucked, taking all of Noctumus' shaft into his mouth. "All... Everything. All of me is yours!" A fiery tear slid from Noctumus' eye, shaft pulsing the pure fire of passion onto his tongue. Yes. He pushed his hand between Noctumus' legs, beyond the soft balls to tease the little hole with his finger. The black wings fluttered, legs pulling up and back in offering. "All of me." He slid his finger into Noctumus, sucking harder on his favorite's phallus.Give me all of your pleasure , he demanded, pushing a second finger in alongside the first. Anything.The touch to his mind was delicious, a flutter of wings, as was the series of tremors that rocked his impling, the climax offered immediately. He drank Noctumus' seed down, the taste sweet and bitter at once. The pleasure filled him, made him want. Removing his fingers from the tight entrance, he surged up, plunging into the hot passage. Noctumus cried out, wings spreading, instinctively trying to fly. He flew with his implet, his own wings spreading dark and wide, carrying them into the dark night sky. Each flap of his wings heralded a thrust into Noctumus' sweet heat. Beautiful.The word was whispered into his mind, awed and delighted. He flew until the pleasure was more than he could stand, Noctumus' and his own twisting together until they were the same thing. He came, a brilliant explosion lighting the sky, and then floated back down to his bed, Noctumus held safely in his arms. Noctumus gave a soft sound, wings fluttering.Home. Thank you, Lord. "You are most welcome, little one." He settled his implet on his bed, fingers brushing the lovely wings. "Rest now." He got a nod, wings spreading and arching unconsciously, then Noctumus settled, sound asleep. He had much to do, much to take care of. A Lady-Wife to seek revenge on, a fine son to recompense. For now though, he wished only to watch this impling sleep. For his dark mischief required the help of his winged pet. Chapter Five

The eternal night of the sleeping season continued, with Verde and his brother and their sweet devotees warm and happy together. After much loving, they were again gathered around in a circle.


"More stories, my dears?" Verde asked, knowing how they enjoyed hearing them. "Oh, yes, please," they chorused the words together. "What tales would you like to hear, sweet ones?" "We would like to hear of more mortals, such as ourselves," Liska told him, and the others nodded. They had one mind, these children of theirs, when it came to the tales that were shared this winter. "I think we know a tale or two more that involves interaction between our family members and their followers." *** Nero was bored. His wife was busy with some festival to the sun or to mid-summer or something. His children were all busy fucking their followers or each other. Even Gialla was busy in the pursuit of the perfect picture of lust and was unwilling to spare her father a moment of conversation to ease his boredom. He was resigned to trolling his temples for entertainment. So far no one had piqued his interest. This last though...the scent of dark need was strong here. With a thought he took on human form. A single figure bowed before the altar, blood flowing from a pale hand. Hair as black as his own pooled on the ground, poured over the lean body. Fury and agony filled the room in equal parts. He breathed the emotions in. These humans were frail but they felt deeply. "Look at your god when you summon him." A soft gasp sounded and tear-filled eyes, blue as the sky, looked up a him. "My Lord Nero. You are not a dream?" The boy was beautiful in his sorrow, pale and desperate, tremors moving through the slim body. "Do I look like a dream?" Well, perhaps he did -- he was, after all, the Dark Lord. He stepped closer to the boy, holding out his hand. "Do I feel like a dream?" One blood-streaked hand reached for him, fingers stroking over his palm, tears spilling over. "My Lord." Nero took the boy's hand and brought him close, breathing deeply. He dipped his finger in the cut palm and brought it to his mouth, the taste of blood shed in anger and pain so sweet. "There, there, child. Dry your tears -- it wasn't for crying that you called me. Where is the fury you were nursing only moments ago?" "It lives, my Lord. It lives and grows and rends my flesh until I cannot bear the waiting." Those blue eyes hardened, fury making them ice. "A group of men, they took my sister, my lady-mother, and stole what was not theirs to take, ruining as they went."


He breathed in the boy's anger, making it his own. "And you wish vengeance, my boy? Would you like them dead? Or perhaps you would like to watch me defile them as they have defiled the women you loved." "I wish them pain, my Lord, and to understand that which sent my lady-mother into the arms of Lord Violo and my sister into the realm of Lord Grigio for eternity." So rich, this pain, so fresh. "I will offer you whatever you ask of me freely, if you will help me avenge my family." "I can promise you that. But I will need your life in return. Are you ready to serve me for the rest of your days?" "Anything. Everything." The words rang with truth. "Very well, we shall seal the bargain with a kiss." He bent, taking the boy's mouth, the taste of anger and pain and vengeance an aphrodisiac. The boy opened to him with a courage formed of agony, permitted him to drink deep. He wiped a spot of blood from the boy's cheek as the kiss ended and smiled evilly. "Do you wish to watch?" "If you will allow it, my Lord." Hard and cold, the boy was delicious, a good bargain, a promising entertainment. Time to test his new pet's mettle. "Do you want to participate?" "If I were strong enough, my Lord, I would have stopped them ere they did their damage, but if you lead me, I will follow and bathe in their pain." He leaned forward and whispered in the boy's ear. "I will hold them down and watch you do to them what they did to your beloved sister and dear mother, yes? Then I will rend them from the inside out and leave them to slowly bleed to death. Will that suit your need for vengeance, dear boy?" Those ice-cold eyes shone at him. "Yes, my Lord. You honor their pain and I live solely for your will." "Oh, we will have fun, you and I." He took another kiss, loving the taste on the boy's lips. He waved a hand bringing them, to his chamber, stripping them both and putting them on the bed with no more than a thought. "First you will take me. I wish to experience your fury first hand." "As you will it, my Dark Lord." The boy spread him, unafraid and sure, so intense, phallus heavy and hard as it slammed within him. Oh, such passion, such anger and hate. He would have to gift this one to Rossa when he was done with the boy. He soaked up the dark emotions, each thrust filling his balls with seed. The boy was sweating and grunting, arms beginning to shake with effort before he was satisfied, seed burning as it landed on his belly. He stopped the boy and, dipping his fingers in his seed, anointed the pale forehead. "Hence forth you


shall be known as Vendetta." Pressing his fingers into the boy's mouth, he allowed Vendetta a taste of his hot essence. Those ice-eyes flared and crystallized, the boy truly his now, old life left behind. "Come then, Vendetta, let us take our revenge." "As you will it, Dark Lord." The boy's voice was rich and black as pitch. As he took the boy's hand and whisked them to the place of his family's undoing, he thought it would be a while before he grew bored again. *** Nero was bored. Again. His pet Noctumus and his avenging boy Vendetta were off wreaking havoc in the North lands. He'd watched for awhile. But there was only so much havoc one could watch without participating before one got bored. It just wasn't the same if you weren't in the thick of things yourself. So he was slowly wandering back toward the East. Perhaps Violo would have some entertainment available. His eldest son was such a wonderful pervert. That was when he found the boy. Stripped and shorn, tied spread-eagle upon wooden boards with rough ropes -- the boy was bound at wrist and ankle, knee and groin, his own symbol painted in black ink upon the exposed inner thigh. He purred. Oh...now this wasn't boring. Not boring at all. He took on his human form and stood in front of the offering. The boy was still, quiet, burns on the skin proving that the bonds had been fought. Resting, then. Waiting for a chance to escape. He reached and slid his hand along one chafed wrist, pressing into the torn skin. A pained growl sounded and then the fight began, pale green eyes flashing at him, body working to be free. He chuckled. Such fire for so little cause. He bent, whispering in the writhing boy's ear. "Even if you escaped your bonds, you could not escape me." "I belong to no man. None." Delicious fury, edged with a honeyed desperation. He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing as thunder in the sky. "I am no man, little boy." The boy stilled, frowning, growing pale. "I belong to no one. I gave no one cause to do this." He shrugged. "That is not my problem. Do you know who I am?" "No." Those eyes flared. "And I will not be drawn into games that I cannot play. We are strangers, magician. I do not know you." "Oh, but you will, boy. You will learn who your master is and you will learn to love and hate me, to fear


and need me. I am no magician." He tilted his head, hand touching the leaking phallus, bound along with the balls, terribly red. "Perhaps I am a magician after all, but I assure you my magic is not merely illusion." He brought his wet fingertips to the boy’s lips, painting them with the clear liquid. "What...what do you want of me?" The pink tongue darted out, disappearing immediately. He brought his fingers to his own lips and licked the rest of the liquid from them. Oh, sweet. He'd forgotten, after his own serpents' bitter seed, how sweet mortals could taste. "Want of you?" He shrugged. "I'm bored. You're going to amuse me." "A...amuse? Amuse you?" The struggles began again, slower but still desperate. "Yes." He sat on the boards next to the boy, reaching out and touching randomly: a soft caress here, a pinch there, a spark to this nipple, a breath of air across the other. The boy's muscles really were pretty as they worked against the ropes. And that sweet cock, bound for him in a state of need. He would have to investigate, find out who left him such a perfect gift. Later. When the boy no longer amused him. "Who are you? Let me free!" The voice was furious, angry, rich with dark passion. He leaned over the boy, bringing their mouths together. "Do you really not know?" He pressed their lips together and pushed his tongue in, taking the boy's mouth as he planned to take the spread-eagle body. The boy went still, stiff, pale eyes flying wide open as shock rocked him. "Nero." He sat back, licking the taste of the boy from his lips. "Indeed. Who were you expecting?" "More priests. More angry men. I.... Not you." That shorn head shook. "Not a god." He shook his head. "They could not have been angry if they left me such a gift. I shall have to think of a suitable reward. Perhaps you will help." He waved his hand. "After I have had my fill, of course." "Fill of what?" Oh, such a delight. Could one with a body as beautiful as this boy's really be so innocent? "Why of you, of course." "I.... Me? But I...I have not, do not...I have never..." He plucked the truth of it -- a young man holding to Gialla's odd perceptions of chastity, a scholar. "How wonderful -- deflowering virgins is a specialty of mine." He sat next to the boy again, idly sliding one finger along the length of the poor, blood-filled phallus. The boy would need to be released soon, ere permanent damage was caused. The boy jerked toward his touch, a soft cry filling the night. Hot and smooth, the lad was perfectly edible. "Would you like me to release you?" he asked, again tasting the sweet liquid that beaded the tip of that fine phallus, this time lapping at it with his tongue.


"Yes. Yes, please, L...lord Nero. Please." The boy nodded, body shuddering. "As you wish." With a quick movement and a thought, he buried his own thick phallus deep inside the boy, simultaneously unbinding the boy's need. The boy's entire body jerked, convulsed with shock, the cry that wanted to push deep trapped in that still-bound chest. Such sweet, tight heat surrounded him. He groaned and started to thrust, burying himself again and again in the sweet boy. Those pale eyes shut, face hiding in one stretched arm. The pulling continued, steady and desperate beneath him. He wrapped his hand around the boy's phallus, forcing the orgasm from the virgin body. It came quickly, pouring forth from the abused flesh, hot and rich upon his hand. His own pleasure rolled through, called out by the heat and the scent of the boy's seed. He roared, gracing the boy with his essence. The boy grew still, quiet beneath him, eyes still hooded, breath quick and light. He withdrew, wiping the boy's essence on the lovely belly, making it shine in the sunlight. "Now you are mine." "What will that mean?" Husky, low, lost -- the boy spoke with the voice of one without hope. "It means you belong to a god now. You will come with me to my home, you will learn the ways of my minions and, if you are lucky, of my most loved." He stood and waved a hand, the ropes falling from the lovely body. The boy stood, wavering and off-balance, the marks from the ropes raw and red, bright. Beautiful. He touched each one lightly, burning it in permanently along with his own black mark upon the inside of the boy's thigh. The boy -- his boy -- fell to those marked knees, gasping. He stroked the shorn scalp, the boy's hair growing beneath his fingertips. "You shall be known as Bruciato Offrire. I alone will call you Brutus." "Yes. Yes, Lord Nero." He held out his hand. "Come, Brutus." Pale green eyes flashed up at him and then his hand was taken, held. "Yes, my Lord." *** Melin shivered and pushed close against Verde. "What is it, little one?" "I'm glad that you and your brother are the ones who found us. Lord Nero seems -- cruel." Marrone shook his head. "Not cruel, child. Merely a god. And the ways of gods and of men are not always the same and do not always meld."


"Like Arancione and poor Valetto," Verde suggested. Marrone nodded. "Oh, yes -- tell us more of the orange god and poor Valetto." "As you wish." *** Arancione let his new pet Valetto stew for a few days. Well...a few weeks. Possibly even a few months. That might have made up a year. Or two. Not more than three, surely. But really, the boy needed to learn that one did not call upon a god lightly, that one did not treat an audience with a god lightly. And during the teaching of the lesson, Arancione might have forgotten that he actually had the pet. It was during a visit to his dear brother Violo that he remembered, prompted by his Valetto's twin stretched out on Violo's bed, limbs tied to the bedposts, gag keeping the pretty mouth silent. He'd been entranced and then he'd remembered like a flash. He had one of those. Back in his own demesnes he waved a hand. "Bring the boy to me," he demanded of his servants. "Begging my Lord's pardon," murmured one of the fire-wenches. "But which boy do you mean?" "The one with the long curly hair and the sulky mouth who hasn't figured out how to use it for sucking. Or at least hadn't when I first got him." He glared at the girl. "You know! Valetto." "Oh! Yes, Lord, right away, Lord." Valetto was once again brought before him. At least this time the boy was unclothed. Though he was hardly a boy anymore. Three years had turned the youth into a man, muscles firm and face more mature. Oh, that wouldn't do at all! Just because he'd forgotten about the boy didn't mean the boy was allowed to grow up completely on him like that. Really, these humans presumed too much. He waved his hand again and the years fell from Valetto, leaving him again at the bare eighteen summers the boy had seen when Arancione had acquired him. "Ah, better." He offered Valetto a smile and pointed to the ground at his feet. "Please, join me, sit. You see, it isn't that your fully grown form was displeasing, but I would have the boy before I have the man. Those muscles will be well-earned."


"And earning them working in your dungeons is unacceptable? I will make note of it, my Lord." The voice was harsh, unused as the boy moved gracelessly across the room to sit, became used to his new body, or lack thereof. Now he remembered why he'd sent the boy there in the first place! "What you earned, working in my dungeons, should have been a modicum of respect, child. Really, I can send you back if you prefer!" The boy sighed quietly and shook his head. "No, my Lord. Please forgive me." "Oh, you do have manners. I was beginning to wonder." The boy stayed silent, still as a marble statue, waiting his will. He waved away his robes and slid his fingers through the lovely black curls. "Are you ready to pleasure me, Valetto?" "Yes, my Lord. As you will it." Valetto rose up upon his knees, beautiful, regaining his grace. "Do you wish my mouth or my body, Bright Lord?" "And you have learned a thing or two in my dungeons. Excellent." He pointed to his phallus. "Let us see what that pretty little mouth can do." The little prince leaned forward, curls falling over the thin face as his shaft was taken into wet heat. He pushed the curls back, moaning softly as he watched his phallus disappear between the sweet red lips. Valetto took him deep, the motions of that practiced tongue delightful, touching him and licking him in the patterns that gave him the most pleasure. He sat back, legs spreading further. His entire shaft was taken into that mouth, throat closing around the tip. As he came down that sweet throat it occurred to him that Valetto must have learned that somewhere. He frowned. "Who taught you to do that?" The prince swallowed. "The persons sent to train me to give you pleasure, my Lord." "They were supposed to show you. Explain it." He growled and began to pace, pleasure fading quickly. "Not turn you into whore!" The boy froze, silent and pale as stone. Arancione could read denial in every line of the boy's body. "I have been deceived at every turn since your father tried to pay for favor with you. Count your blessings that I do not throw you into my fire pit!" The fire in his hearth flared high. "Count my blessings?" To his utter surprise, the boy stood, eyes flashing. "I was offered to you without benefit or concern. I have worked hour upon hour in your dungeon, either upon my knees or carrying loads upon my back -- not that it would be obvious, now that you have taken what defense years of work has earned me. I have been neither violent nor destructive, have caused no reason for offense and yet I am to be grateful and count my blessings?"


Fury flowed through him, even as a part of him admired the boy's arrogance. "Perhaps you would be happier counting your blessings from your grave!" He raised his hand, ready to banish the boy to immortal doom. The song of his eldest brother filled the room a second before the prince was wrapped in Violo's arms, those cool lips whispering and seducing, petting the treacherous body. "This one has my blessing, brother. He and his brother are safe." Damn Violo! "I am not happy!" he shouted at his brother. "No? Take better care of your pets, then. This one is mine by forfeit." Violo looked, as always, supremely unconcerned. Betrayal! From such a source. Arancione's passion banked and he straightened, looked down his nose at his brother and the cringing boy. "Go on then, take the little vermin and be gone." Not betrayal, Bright Love, but truth. The mortal souls cannot soothe your needs. Find one of your scaled children who live to need you.The boy disappeared, leaving Violo behind, the touch to his mind a salve. Violo's words and obvious care soothed his spirit, though he would not admit it yet. "You should have saved us all the heartache and taken him from the start, brother." "Indeed." Violo took a step forward, eyes warm. "I forget how busy you are, Most Bright, how your light rips the good sense from mortals' mind." "It does -- it can make men fly to great heights, but at a cost. They never consider the cost, dear brother, and then it is I who must listen to their endless haranguing and moping." He reached out to brush his brother's cheek with the back of his hand. "It really does become tiresome." Violo nodded, nuzzling into his touch. "It takes amazing strength to drink in your light, Beloved, to float under your touch." "And you believe you are up for the task, dear brother?" He let his fingers continue to dance upon his brother's cool skin. "I believe that together we make symphonies." Violo's tongue slid over his palm. He purred, the fire in his hearth shooting sparks high into the air. "Then let us invent one now." Violo's agreement rang inside him, those sweet, cool lips parted beneath his own as they kissed. His passion flared, grew quickly as the sweet taste of his brother filled his mouth. So alive, so active, Violo's passion met his and blossomed, the air filling with song. Lips and hands moved against each other, against bodies, Violo's skin cool, his own hot, the two mixing, mingling, heating and cooling until you could not tell one from the other. Such life and passion and need could never be found in a mortal's empty frame, only in arms such as these. Arms that honored and


adored him. A single thought brought a bed large enough to hold ten gods next to the fire. He bent Violo over it, pushing his brother's legs apart and sliding his phallus home. "Bright Love!" Violo's cry held pure bliss, the fabric of creation folding beneath his joy. Violo gave of himself completely; will, body, spirit, need -- all were his for the taking. His brother truly knew how to make him shine. They rocked together, creating glittering showers that poured out around them, lit by his light. Music filled the air, accompanying the show. So lovely, so beautiful together it almost brought tears to his eyes. They were splendiferous, he and Violo. See what we create together, my Bright Love? See us?Violo arched back into his arms, purring. Yes, brother! Mine!He wrapped his hand around Violo's phallus, just as he wrapped his mind around Violo's wild and wanton spirit, caressing both with a firm, knowing touch. Violo cried out, melting for him, heat spraying from that cool body. He spent his own heat inside his brother's body, the colors and music swelling and impossibly bright. His climax was complete, total, and would have incinerated a mere mortal. With his beloved Violo, though? They ended curled together, laughing, tongues sliding together. Sometimes it wasn't so impossible, being a god. Chapter Six

It was deep winter and Marrone and Verde had been hidden in their cave with their devoted for a long time. Not so long they were growing weary of it yet. No, spring could wait and bring its thaw later. There were still bodies to explore, sleep to be had, stories to tell.... "What is it?" his Verde asked shy Tisli, when he opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. "Do you and your brother consort with your siblings like the other gods?" Marrone laughed delightedly. Verde grinned. "That would be a yes." *** Verde advanced on Violo's castle-like home. He was not happy with his elder brother, Violo having made a disparaging remark regarding his twin. Violo had laughed and mentioned something about teasing, and, with Marrone there seeming inclined to


let it pass, he had as well. It was not, however, forgotten. Marrone forgave easily, forgot easily, letting time and nature grow up over slights and hurts, making something beautiful in their stead. Verde, however, took slights against his beloved brother very seriously. Marrone was everything and it upset him when his twin was not treated with the respect he deserved. He was not large compared to Violo, nor was he as eagerly sought as the Purple God, but he loved his twin with a fierce devotion that would see him going up against his entire family united against him if it were to come to that. He threw open the door to Violo's home and called out his brother's name. A shimmering cloud appeared in front of him, slowly coalescing into the tall, slender form of his eldest brother. "Yes, little brother? You have need of me?" "Yes, I do. I need you to watch what you say about my brother!" He glared up at Violo, refusing to see the beauty in his older brother's eyes. "Which one, little brother? You have so many." One eyebrow lifted, a tingling finger tracing his bottom lip. He jerked back. "Don't call me that!" He glared harder. "And you know who I'm talking about. You insulted Marrone. Again. And I want it to stop." A soft chuckle sounded. "What would you have me call you, sweet, fierce love? You know my feelings about your beast of burden, as does he, Verde. He took no offense." "He is no beast! He is twice the god you are!" "In truth, little brother, he is an animal -- he is warm and dear and all the protector one's little brother could need, but he is a beast, made for you." Part of Verde knew that Violo did it on purpose, that his eldest brother enjoyed getting a rise out of him, but he rose to the bait nonetheless. "I will not have him pained, not even a little for your enjoyment, big brother." "And will you be cross with me? Stamp your feet and fuss? Little brother, I was there when you crept from Mother's robes, clinging to Marrone's pelt." Those eyes were beautiful, flashing at him, aroused and dark. "So that my brother and I may amuse you more? Bah!" He threw up his hands and pushed Violo, catching his older brother by surprise and sending him back a few steps. Violo blinked, then began to laugh, moving close to him, hands hot on his skin. "Oh, Verde. I do so enjoy your temper." He grabbed Violo's arms, intent on pulling the warm hands away. "And now you're laughing at me!" Instead of pushing, though, he pulled and took Violo's mouth, kissing his brother hard.


Violo moaned, hands pulling him in close, tongue pressing back into his mouth.Such delicious fury, little brother. He bit Violo's tongue. "Don't call me little!" Violo's eyes flashed and he was pushed back. "Watch yourself, little brother, else you find yourself visiting one of the rooms meant for my pets." He stiffened, then the room shook, the familiar pounding of hooves thunderous as his Marrone appeared between them. "Enough, Violo. No more of your games." "Marrone!" Pleasure and annoyance filled him. They all thought him weak. He slid his hands along Marrone's flank, moving to stand just in front of his beloved twin. Never weak, Beloved, but I will not allow another to mark you.Marrone's horns were heavy, sharp, his musk delicious here in this stone palace. Oh. He purred, rubbing against his brother, anger and arousal flaring together, making him need. Violo's chuckle was low, erotic. "Where one comes, the other invariably follows, yes Marrone?" "Yes, Violo. He is my Beloved, my heart, my Verde. Where he goes, I follow." Marrone's voice was filled with a possessive joy. It made him purr louder, and he wrapped one hand around Marrone's neck, the other reaching out to Violo as his lips joined his twin's in a kiss. Their brother joined them easily, fingers moving unerringly to Marrone's horns, stroking them as their kiss was shared. It was always a surprise when another flavor joined their own, especially when it was as strong as their brother's. He shifted slightly, rubbing against Violo as well as Marrone, purring at the soft, smooth skin. Violo's pleasure was freely offered, as was the warm and true welcome Marrone was given, now that the games were finished. Marrone growled gently, the sound loving and rich. His own anger and upset were left behind, lost in the flavors on his tongue: one as familiar as his own, the other bright and metallic. Marrone's hand slid down his belly, finding Violo's hand and then both sliding over Verde's shaft, drawing him closer. Oh yes, they would make him sing, make him fly so quickly, as if he were a yearling in the throes of his first season. How he loved them. His elder brother and his very soul touched him, driving his arousal higher and higher, the ivy crawling in through the window and beginning to bloom. Once he had flown, he would take them both at the same time, be filled by them. The very thought, on top of their touches, was too much and he shouted, pleasure spraying from him, flowers sprouting, small lilies of the valley, whereever his seed fell. "So lovely, little brother."


"Beloved!" "Oh, my brothers, lay me down and take me, use me for your pleasure." With a thought -- he was unsure if it was Marrone's or Violo's or a mixture of them both -- he was bent over a bed blossoming with waxy-petaled flowers, Marrone's heat sliding against his hip, Violo's darker phallus nudging his lips. He opened his mouth to take his brother in even as he spread his legs, welcoming the familiar heat of his beloved twin into his body. So full! It was wonderful. Violo pushed deep into his throat, reaching to kiss Marrone as his twin found a home within him, the temperamental god's hunger clear. Moaning, he sucked hard on Violo's shaft, eager to make them both come inside him. Their cries poured over his skin like the finest wines, sliding against and inside him, making him arch. His body tightened, shaft growing hard again, spurred on by their pleasure, by the dual claiming. They moved together, Violo's need following Marrone's instinct as easily as night followed day, mouth and body filled and touched and taken. My brothers.He caressed their minds with his own, finding joy in their joy. Beloved. Brother. Need. Want. Love. Love you. They filled him -- body and soul and mind until his heartbeat was theirs, the splash of seed upon his tongue echoing the pulses within him. His own pleasure washed over him, mingled with theirs. They were as one, flying, floating, curled together on the bed of flowers. Marrone's heat was familiar against him, Violo cooler and so thin, so sharp-edged, even in repose. He found himself curling against Violo, trying to lend his brother some of the warmth he and Marrone took for granted. Violo's pleasure washed over him, still cool, but happy.So sweet, little brother. "Not little," he muttered as Marrone wrapped around him from the other side, keeping him warm as he shared his heat with Violo. "Is he not little, my brother?" Violo's voice was full of laughter again, those thin lips sliding over his skin.


"He is everything, Violo. My universe." "As you are mine, Beloved." Verde turned his head, purring as his lips met Marrone's. Marrone kissed him until even Violo fell away and they were in their own grotto, flowers and trees creating a bower. He purred, arching up into his brother’s arms, rubbing against Marrone. "Will you have me again, brother?" "Our brother did not satisfy you with his teases and chill touch?" Marrone's hands were hot, wide, running over his body and drawing him close. "Only you bring me satisfaction, Beloved." He writhed beneath his brother's touch, reveling in it. "Only I adore you, my brother." He received a hard kiss, those dark eyes hot. "I alone know your heart." He nodded, caught by Marrone's eyes, left breathless by them. His body rippled, legs circling Marrone's waist. "Only you can fill me." One hand cupped his hip, drawing him up, dragging him onto his brother's eternal need. "Yes, Beloved." He cried out as he was spread open, filled with Marrone's heat. There was nothing that could equal this. Nothing. He gave himself over to his beloved twin, their minds and bodies melding. Verde reached up, stroked the so-sensitive base of his brother's horns, heard the needy call echo through the forest. That call was for him; only he could bring such noises from Marrone. Only he had that power just as Marrone was the only one with power over him. This was why Violo teased them so -- pure jealousy for he had none to whom he belonged so completely. They loved each other, so lost in each others arms that mountains grew and fell around them, leaving them happy in their bower. *** Arancione waited until Marrone and his little twin disappeared from Violo's side and then appeared in their place. The bed was still warm from their bodies, but a thought leeched the heat from the silk, leaving it cool against his naked body. He reached out, touching Violo's cheek. "Brother, why do you bother with them? They rut their days away, lost in each other's arms. They are not worthy of the attentions of someone such as yourself." "Mm...I cannot create or destroy that which blooms between them. It makes me want to touch it." Violo's dark eyes cleared, then fastened onto his own. "Oh, but they are distant and dark compared to your light, my bright brother." He preened. Of all his brothers and sisters, it was Violo who pleased him the most. "Indeed, I am


worthy of your time. The imagination I fire in men's souls leads them to your bounties." He pressed a kiss against cool lips, appreciating the way Violo tempered his heat. Violo's hand brushed over his skin, fingers clever as they at once eased and aroused. His brother tasted of grape and honey and the slightest hint of blood -- heady. He slid his hands over the cool skin. Violo was softer than the silks they lay upon, his brother's breath a breeze within his body. Hands slid up over his belly, caressing his chest, his shoulders. So bright, so strong, my brother. Violo's words were true, honest; he loved them all and often. He pressed kisses on his brother's skin, rolling Violo onto his back and spreading his legs. Violo opened to him, spread wide and eager to be touched deep. Cool fingers combed through his hair, soft music filling the air. He filled Violo with his passion, phallus burning with the fire of his need. Violo stretched and arched; the cry that filled the air was a symphony, the sheets beneath those fingers were stained a thousand hues. Such beauty and passion, all his at the moment, created in honor of his love for his brother. He moved, building the fire between them. Images of the mirror of his little prince flashed playfully into his mind -- bound to a wall and well-marked, stretched over a bed with need trapped in leather, riding on a thick wooden phallus with lips parted for another -- only to dissolve into the shining beauty of his own eyes, Violo crying out with need. He gave Violo what his brother needed, what he himself needed, entering the depths of his brother's body again and again. Bright One! Oh! So hot, my brother!Violo rode him, cool skin drinking him in. He wrapped his hand around his brother's phallus, encouraging Violo's own heat to come to the surface and grace their skin. As always, Violo's passion met his own, the bright creation of a thousand muses filling the air with song. Brother!He filled his Violo with his own fire. Held by the most familiar hands, Violo sang for him, a quiet praise none other would ever be honored with. He lay against Violo, nuzzling along the cool neck, accepting the praise as his due, offering his happiness and warmth in return. There was peace here, with his brother, a place where he could share of himself. Where he was welcomed and adored by his own. *** "Violo moves from one to the other of you with such ease," murmured Tisli. "Violo is the most...loving among us," answered Verde.


Marrone laughed. "You mean lusting, brother." "Perhaps I do. He even visits our sister Rossa." "The Lady of War?" asked Tisla, eyes wide. "Yes, indeed. Even she is not immune to our brother’s charm." *** Rossa pouted and stamped her foot. Stupid humans. Every war, it was the same thing, over and over again. Did they have no imagination? Where was the torture, where were the devious dealings? Where was a poor girl supposed to find her entertainment? King Wallis wouldn't know a creative idea if it hit him upside his head, and King Mabin was just as bad. Why were they fighting a classic war, copying each step to the letter? She stamped her foot again. She would make them come up with new ways of killing each other if she had to pledge life to her Dark Father himself. Of course, it was her dear brother Violo who nurtured men's creative juices. With an impatient wave of her hand, she brought him to her. Violo appeared, brush in one thin hand, hair loose over his shoulders, sensual and lazy and perfect. "Rossa. Beauty. Good day." Her eyes lingered for a moment. Her brother cut a handsome figure, far more appealing than any of the kings and warriors who called to her. "I need your help," she stated flatly. She was too frustrated to play coy, though the game was one she did enjoy upon occasion. "Anything. You have only to ask." So eager to play, her eldest brother. She opened a viewing portal to Wallis and Mabin's war. "They're boring me, brother. No imagination, no creativity is being used to wage this war. Indeed, none is being used to woo me, either." She turned and gave him a soft smile. "I'm bored. You can fix it." "Of course." Violo tilted his head, then those long fingers began to move. One side was given huge war-creatures, one foot enough to trample three men. The other side was given a squadron of winged valkyries, screeching the need for blood.


She bounced and clapped her hands, crowing happily. "Oh, Violo! They're wonderful!" The war grew more intense, the air painted with wailing and sprays of bright crimson. Violo gathered each lost soldier's spirit into his realm, denying them to the twins. Such a lovely war. She smiled at her eldest brother. "How can I repay you for such splendid improvements?" Violo tilted his head and smiled, the look wicked and delicious. "I would ask two things from you, Pretty. The first is simple. I have need of a fine, strong man to serve as a bench in my bathing quarters, unbroken, but unable to resist, preferably caught by his own will." She clapped her hands again. Violo was such a perverted boy. "Done, brother-dear." She stepped close and tilted her head back to look up at him. "And the other?" Those dark eyes shone at her, one hand cupping her cheek. "The other will wait, lovely, until I have greeted my beloved sister with the kiss that is her due." Then Violo pressed his lips against hers, tingling and warm, wicked and arousing. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed back, giving Violo as good as she got. Violo settled with her on a wide divan, violet and soft, richly upholstered, one kiss becoming another and another. Her loins grew heavy, moisture gathering there, her desire brought to life by Violo's kisses. "Your need is sweet, heady." Violo's hands moved over her, teasing and stroking her skin. "It is yours, dear brother." She thought away his clothes, delighting in the slide of his cool skin against her own. His touch drew butterflies and cherubs from her skin, fiery-eyed muses that wandered close to dip their brushes and paint the world in her passion. It made her laugh, made her breathless and she pushed close, sending him down onto his back. She followed, rubbing against his heat. "Brother!" "Rossa." He took her mouth, her body in one fluid motion, hands and shaft and tongue driving her mad. She cried out, her passion bubbling from her, spreading over the world and driving all who heard her cries to frantic coupling. Violo's seed warmed her through, her brother's moans mingling with hers to assure the quickening of thousands of women. She purred, lying on her brother. "Such lovely passion, sweet Violo." "Dearest Rossa, such beauty, such glory." Violo held her close. She rubbed her cheek against his fine skin. "My passion marries well to your creation, dear brother." "As it always has, pretty." Violo stroked her hair. "I do have a final favor to beg of you, lady-sister, but


the asking of it should most amuse." "I had not forgotten you said two favors, brother." She raised her head and looked down at him, waiting. Violo's grin was wicked and playful. "You have heard our Dark Father has found himself a new pet -small and winged and black as night?" At her nod, he continued. "The wicked little beast is deliciously perverse and quite entertaining, but mischief made flesh and feather. "Father bade the creature into our lady-mother's bower, wherein he did truly besmirch her handmaidens, filling their bellies with...well, to be sure, we know not what the mixture of purest and darkest heart creates. Not yet." Violo chuckled, wrinkling his nose at her. "When Mother found the deed done, she did rage and boil over, threatening to burn the little one into dust after tearing its wings from its frail body. Nero heard and rushed to his pet's defense, given that the implet was only causing trouble where it was bid. "Father has forbidden Mother's hand in this. She cannot hurt the wee thing. However, and here's the fun, beloved, we have no such order." Violo nuzzled against her. "So, she's coming to beg favor of you, and I came to ask you to make no promise to her, to allow the implet to live." She laughed in delight. "Oh you are wicked, Violo." She gave her brother a kiss. "I will not interfere." "Oh, most excellent. Such fun, is it not?" "Oh yes," she agreed. "Our parents are far more entertaining than the humans." "Eternally so." Violo grinned and shifted them so they could watch the war, carnage and violence running amok. It was a good day after all. *** Violo stood at a window in his mountain home, looking down at the clouds and the sea. Bored. He was bored. His Eric awaited, bound and plugged and gagged in the rooms below, the boy's own servants seeing to his needs. He supposed he could go and amuse himself there, but in truth, he felt the need for his own kind. Violo's eye was captured by the ocean. Yes, his own kind. His beautiful, tempestuous brother so in love with his followers. "Brother? Beautiful Turchino? Are you near?" There was a brief touch to his mind and then a wave rose up from the ocean, shooting up through the clouds and through his window, Turchino coalescing by his side. "Near enough, Violo." He smiled, stroked the deep blue hair from the familiar face. "Bright day, Beautiful One."


Turchino nuzzled briefly against his hand. "Bright day, Violo-mio. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" "I need, Bello. I long for the company of another." He leaned forward for a kiss. "The games are fine and well, but there are times when one needs an equal strength, to forgo control." "So you called me?" Turchino looked pleased, blue eyes flashing at him. His kiss was met head-on. His answer was in the meeting of their tongues, the way their bodies melded together. His brother was salt and sun and sky upon his tongue -- a true addiction. Turchino nipped at his lips, teeth sharp, tongue soothing. "Would you visit your perversions upon me, Violo?" "In truth, Turchino, I wish for you to spend all your needs with me. I have not simply offered myself to another in too long." He let his arousal grow, held his hands out to his brother. "You are the basis of my art, your water and Rossa's fire mingling within me as smoke." Turchino took his hands and brought them to a bower in the sky. The large bed they were on seemed to float in the air. In a heartbeat he was as bare as the newly-born, sliding over cloud-kissed blankets to bring their bodies close enough to touch. "You hold the stars within your eyes, Bello." "Flatterer," whispered Turchino, hands sliding over his face, pushing his hair back. He could feel his brother's phallus, full and hot, nudging against his thigh. "Only the truth." He reached down, shuddering at the fine heat, the smoothness beyond any silk. Turchino made a soft noise and pushed him down onto the bed, following him with a deep kiss. His groan created a thousand butterflies, tangling in his beautiful brother's hair, wings fluttering wildly with adoration for the god of the skies. Turchino laughed, the sound turning into a breeze that caressed his skin. The depths of the oceans looked down on him with pleasure, and his fingers wrote a thousand tomes on sweet, soft skin. "Spread your legs for me, brother, let me into your depths." He nodded, opening easily to this brother with the laugh that quenched the thirst of eons. "Fill me, beautiful brother. Teach me to fly." "I can do that," murmured Turchino, phallus hard and hot, pushing into him even as Turchino bent to kiss him. His brother's tongue invaded his mouth, set the rhythm for their coupling. His cry was low and tasted sweet in his own mouth. Each motion was the wave of the sea, rocking slow and steady, deep within and all around. Turchino kept the rhythm slow and steady, eternal.


The boredom left him, a quiet peace in its stead.Thank you, my brother. I have played amongst my children too long and forgot the bliss of loving my Beautiful One. Turchino sped his movements, eyes flashing.I too find here what no one else can give me. My laughing brother...He whispered his will and starlight twinkled around them, decorating the sky. Turchino raised his head, looking around with a smile. "More, brother. Show me what you can do -show me how I make you feel." He reached deep, brought his sister's passion and brother's laughter together and lit it with their mother's fire, spreading his flashing joy across the sky. "Oh! Oh, Violo!" His brother moved faster, sending stars shooting through the sky, sparks along his spine, with every thrust. The music started then, pure and rich, the gift that was his to share, distilling his love and passion into melody. "Yes, Violo, yes. You make us shine together." Faster and faster his brother moved, taking him as no other did. The music crested as he dissolved, his seed rich and fertile on his belly -- a thousand muses sacrificed for his brother's pleasure. Turchino called out, jerking against him as he was filled with heat. He drank the laughter from his brother's lips, holding the heat tight within. Turchino lay against him, hands moving over his skin, leaving trails like lightning behind. Violo hummed, purred, eyes heavy as he floated with his beautiful brother, cradled between sea and sky. Chapter Seven

"Oh, Turchino!" exclaimed Liska, her eyes bright. "He is my favorite. Beside the two of you, of course," she added quickly, cheeks going red. Marrone laughed and Verde grinned at her. "He is a favorite of ours as well, child. No offense was taken. Now if you’d mentioned us with Arancione..." "Or cold Gialla." Verde nodded and cuddled with his beloved twin, their believers like a warm blanket around them, keeping them warm in the sleepy winter. "Turchino’s blessed children are some of the most beautiful creatures in the sea, are they not beloved?" Marrone nodded. "Indeed." ***


Turchino loved his waters. The superior and anterior oceans, the lakes, the rivers, all of it. He would rush through them, sliding through the water as if he were made of the very water itself. He danced among the seaweed and played with the fish, leaving one dark brown trout silver and another all the colors of the gods themselves. Such fun! The oceans called to him, their vastness his to command. He danced through the waves, twisting and twirling until a happy cry caught his attention. A shape hurtled up through the water, huge tail propelling the merman into his arms. Our Lord! Our Lord! So fine! Such beauty! We missed you, we did! All of us. Our beautiful Lord Turchino!The pleasure and joy warmed the water, the blue-green eyes shining with love. He wrapped his hands around the merman's waist, letting the great tail wrap around his legs. Oh, so pretty! And all for him. He pressed close, letting the muscled, male form slide against him.And who are you? We are Tempest's son and Laughter's mate and your own Brightshell.The long hair mingled with his own, the children of the sea open in their pleasure and unquestioningly devoted to him alone. One smooth cheek stroked against his, the strong tail rippling around his legs in invitation. My very own Brightshell.He brought their lips together, spreading his legs in acceptance of the merman's invitation. Salty and warm, the merman tasted of life and pleasure. Hands caressed his muscles, his back, joy and happy arousal pouring into him. He touched in return, hands exploring the wide muscles, petting the rippling belly. Deeper and deeper they sank into the ocean. The light faded, the water cool and heavy. Webbed fingers wrapped around his phallus, exploring, touching, stroking.So thick. So warm. Our Lord, so lovely. Oh, they worshipped him so well. It was no wonder the water always brought him such joy. He found the merman's own phallus, tucked within his scales, and pulled it out, feeling its weight and heat in his hand. Brightshell's cry echoed through the waves, tail caressing his legs, massaging and twisting, twining. His shaft was held and stroked, fingers fluttering about his skin. He deepened the kiss, taking the sweet mouth with his own as he pushed into Brightshell's touch. He offered as much pleasure as he received, freely stroking the merman's phallus. As they grew close, they began to spin, spiral up and up, faster and faster, bodies and water working together in passion, cresting at the surface in a bright spray. He clung to the merman as they fell back into the sea, letting the pleasure sate him, sweet echoes of completion in his merman's touch.


They swam together, lazy and sated, the aqua-marine eyes of his Brightshell still and at peace. Such pleasure. Such happiness.Would you come and sing and feast in the great hall? We know our Lord must swim far, but we wish him to know how much he is welcome and loved. He had no desire to refuse such an offer.I will. I have been too long away from my favorites. Those eyes shone and the water itself warmed with pleasure.Such wondrous news! We will sing and play and dance beneath the waters, for our Lord is with us and he smiles. The muscled tail twined around his legs again then disappeared, Brightshell darting down to lap at his sex, eyes dancing as he danced playfully in the waves. His phallus rose to greet the touch and he grinned.Oh yes, I think more pleasure is to be had before we join your brothers and sisters. The long hair wrapped around him, even as a hot touch of tongue warmed him. Sure and free -- his sea-children could taste the truth of pleasure on the water, and so were assured of their place in his heart, in his arms. He moaned, letting Brightshell hear his pleasure. Spreading his arms and legs wide, he floated, held within the water and the merman's grasp. Heat and joy blossomed in his center, pushed through his limbs by thousands of tiny bubbles bouncing along his skin. He laughed even as he moaned again, such heat and suction gathering around his phallus. Your laughter... Oh, our Lord! It is sunshine!He was taken in deep, strong fingers exploring his legs. He granted Brightshell more of his pleasure, letting it warm his merman as he was worshiped. They rolled slowly, the water another welcome caress as the suction of that sweet mouth surrounded him. He was pulled deeper and deeper into pleasure, Brightshell's mouth leading the way. The soft thrum of pleasure in his mind became waves, the taste and touch of him drawing Brightshell into a maelstrom of pleasure. Together they were drawn into it, swirling and twisting, the pleasure ever expanding. As he came, he drew Brightshell up to him, holding the merman close, safe, as the pleasure became uncontrolled. They drifted, Brightshell's soft adoration a hymn in perfect harmony with the waves. It had been far too long since he had graced these gentle beings with his presence. He would not be so long away the next time. *** "Oh!" exclaimed Mikah. "How beautiful. And how different than the dragons of Lord Arancione." "Oh, yes, each of our special children are different." "Will you tell another tale of the dragons? Please?" begged Mikah, the boy so lovely, wriggling quite eagerly against one of his brothers. Verde thought that they could not possibly deny the sweet pleas.


*** Arancione sat gloomily upon his throne, watching the fire in his hearth burn dully. He'd been moping since Violo had left. His brother was right -- humans held no appeal to him, they were too weak for him. He hadn't even avenged the temple Turchino had hit with lightning. Wasn't planning to either. Let them all suffer, the miserable little beasts. He was done with them. He was a god. Second only to his mother and father and even then...well, they were always so busy fighting and making up and fighting again. Even among his family there were few who deserved his attention. He was all alone in the universe. A soft touch brushed his calf, almost accidental, and he looked down into glowing bronze eyes, staring up at him with perfect adoration.Bright Lord. A young dragon, scales still bright, not yet burnished with age, heeding the call to greet him, adore him, love him, as they all did. How could he have forgotten his dear children? The dragons loved him as no other, not even his brothers and sisters, could. He stroked the long snout, scales warm beneath his fingers.Sweet child. Have you come to shine for me? A rich purr sounded, that warm face nuzzling his hand.Yes, beloved Lord. I waited and waited until it was my time. I have dreamed of your smile. And smile he did. How could he deny such beauty, such devotion? He could not. He would not.And what do they call you, bright child? Grassik, Bright Lord. I am your Grassik, child of Greth and Hissik.Oh, those eyes shone bright, so happy, so warm. Stand, Grassik, and spread your wings. Show me your glory that I might find my joy in you. A soft rush of heated pleasure suffused him, the dragon offering all emotions to him as was his due. The long, lanky body uncurled, tail trembling, as glittering wings spread wide, the action buffeting him with heat. He basked in it: in the heat and adoration and love, basked in the joy his dear child offered freely and without reservation. He circled the dragon, touching scales and claws, breathing over the wings, caressing the long tail.Perfect -- a terrible beauty -- just as you should be. As you have created us, Bright Lord.Liquid gold tears slid down those fine cheeks.Your hands... I would fly at your word, your touch, nothing is so sweet. Oh, yes, Grassik, let us fly together!


He opened the roof to them, turning himself into a dragon, only slightly finer than the bright one who had come to honor him and flew up, leading the way, wings beating strongly. Grassik followed, heat and passion and the purest love pouring into the sky like flames, tail sparking as they raced and dove, circled and roared. When they had traveled from one end of the world to the other and back again, he guided their flight once again toward his hearth, the fire within burning bright and warm. His dragon's laughter chuffed through the room, rough and husky and pure happiness, Grassik's muzzle touching his feet, his knees, his stomach, his heart.Bright Lord. I am yours, in all things, in all ways. He reached out to touch the sweet muzzle.Let us make pleasure together, Grassik. There is none who can serve me as my dragons can . Yes, Bright Lord. Please.He felt the strain and focus as the young one put himself into the unfamiliar human form, eyes glowing and blinking at him. "Did I do it? Is this the way?" He growled for Grassik, the sound low and happy. "Very much the way, my Dragon." His hands slid over the finely formed chest, skin warm and bronzed. "Oh! Oh... My Lord..." So sensitive, so new -- in this form the vulnerable heart beat furiously, phallus filling, sensations burning between them. "Yes..." He thought away his robe and moved close to the dragon-man, letting Grassik feel his heat, letting their phalluses touch, slide together. So delicious, these first gasps, the adoration in those eyes as they first learned the depths of true pleasure. "Might I touch you, Bright Lord? Is that allowed?" "Not only allowed, my child, but encouraged." Hands as hot as flames ran up his belly, Grassik's gasp sweet as his skin was adored, his body held by a strength mortals could not begin to understand. "Such power and beauty and strength -- forged together by my fire. Truly you are a creature worthy of your god." "There is nothing without your fire, Bright Lord. Nothing." The dragon leaned forward, mouth open and hot upon his shoulder. "Oh..." He purred as the hot mouth slid over his skin, leaving branded marks behind. He didn't heal them, letting his faithful dragon-man mark him. The design the fiery tongue left behind told histories upon his skin, eons of hymns sung in the great halls to his glory. Moaning, growling, he slid his fingers over the dragon-man's nipples, tickled fingertips along the ridged belly, teased the wet-tipped phallus. Soft cries slid over his skin, Grassik beginning to tremble, to gasp. He slid his arms around the strong body, supporting this young dragon as he experienced such pleasures for the first time. "My Lord... Such heat..." The strong body moved against him, unsure and careful, but so needy.


He slid a tendril of heat around Grassik's phallus, sliding it around and around the throbbing flesh. Golden eyes widened, fastening to him, trusting him without question, without hesitation. He smiled and brought their lips together, pushing his tongue into Grassik's lips as he slid another tendril of heat into the opening behind the ponderous balls. The low, familiar roar of a dragon's pleasure pushed into his lips, nourishing him, filling him. He purred. "Yes. Oh, yes. It feels good, does it not?" "Yes. Yes. Oh, so much brighter than just good." Shock and pleasure and love poured over him, his Grassik awash in sensation. He continued to stimulate Grassik, giving the dragon his best. The tension and heat within the dragon peaked, fiery seed pouring forth, the creature fighting desperately to hold its form. "Let go, Grassik, let your pleasure take the form it will." He could feel the tension ease suddenly and he was surrounded by a dragon once more, long body curled around him, wings fluttering. He purred. Such heat and strength. Any mere mortal would have been burned into cinders by such an embrace, but not he -- no, he thrived in the fire of his dragons. So much stronger now, after his touch, his blessing -- his dragon glowed with energy, with heat. He sank against the beast, letting that deep, full consciousness, the strong emotions encompass him. With a cry that set volcanoes spewing hot ash into the sky, he came, marking this dragon as special, even among his special children. The purrs of the dragon proved that the honor was noted, respected for the act it was. Then, in a motion as old as time, his Grassik lifted one wing for him, offering him the pillow of that huge, vulnerable heart. He rested against his dragon, finding peace. Next time he would not be so quick to assume himself alone in the universe, for as long as his dragons breathed fire, he was not. *** Mikah cried out, as did the one he rubbed against, the scent of their pleasure making Verde smile. "Look, beloved, our children revel our tales." "Your voice lends them a beauty," murmured his dear brother. Verde laughed. "And yours lends them passion." He kissed Marrone, fingers moving, sliding up to caress the little nubs that would turn to antlers at a thought from him or his brother. His passion was interrupted, though, their followers, their children, not so timid as they had once been. "And what of your own special ones? Will you tell tales of us one day?" Liska asked. "Oh, perhaps, but our special ones are actually the centaurs." Verde grinned and rubbed those antlers


again. The centaurs, a marriage combining his own attributes with Marrone’s. "Yes." Marrone’s voice rumbled. "If my sweet brother does not ride with me, then it is only right he has a centaur to carry him." *** They ran with the centaurs. His Marrone's hooves thundering loudly, his own hands holding tight to the great rack of antlers that grew from his Beloved's head. Their children ran like the wind, happy and excited to have their Lords in their midst. Marrone was solid beneath him, between his thighs, keeping him in a state of need and arousal. Marrone called and tossed his head, pleasure and ferocious happiness pouring from him. To run was one of his greatest passions, the pulse of the world beating in that eternal heart. He could feel their children's joy, could feel them calling to him. He leaned forward to kiss the back of Marrone's neck. "I will ride with them, my own." With that he leapt from his brother's back to that of the nearest centaur. The one so chosen called out with pleasure, muscles working beneath him. His hands grabbed strong shoulders, looking over to admire Marrone as they ran. His beloved was beautiful, strong and sleek, muscles working hard as they ran. His need increased, his phallus rubbing against the hard muscles that worked between his thighs. The centaur beneath him moaned, muscles rippling with need and pride, pelt stroking him again and again. Oh, Beloved, he feels so good.He rolled as he rode, increasing the sensation to his phallus. They are a strong and pure heat, Beloved. You bless him with your desire.Marrone's eyes were hot, flashing. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around the centaur's waist, rubbing his chest, his belly and his phallus against the great beast. Their joy poured, one into another, Marrone sharing the flavor of need through the herd, the run slowing, becoming sensual, pure desire. The other centaurs came near, rubbing against his legs and sides. He became lost in them, in the open way they shared their pleasure. He became sensation. Marrone's words and moans filled his mind, driving him even farther, that constant touch sparking his passion like none other. Brother!He reached out with his mind, his body busy, stimulated, sent careening along pleasure's path. Marrone's purr vibrated along his nerves, the ghost flavor of his twin's seed teasing his tongue. All around him were the sounds and smells of rutting, the rubbing against him becoming more feverish. He heard Marrone's roar of pleasure, starting a series of cries that flooded the herd. He held on until the last one sounded, pulling their pleasure into himself. His own cry was the loudest of


all of them, heat splashing from him onto the back of the beast he rode. The fine pelt darkened where his seed spread, marking this child as blessed, as favored. As ridden. He stroked the fine abdomen of his mount, thanking the centaur for his ride. Then he reached out for his beloved twin. Marrone's horns slid into his hands, swinging him onto his place. "We ride, Beloved?" "We ride!" He settled into place, legs gripping his brother's sides firmly, laughing into the wind as they picked up speed, leaving the herd behind. *** "So beautiful!" Liska gazed upon Verde and Marrone, eyes glazed. "I could almost see it as you told the tale." "Such is the magic of Marrone’s stories." Verde smiled at his brother, ready now to recreated a portion of that tale, to spend his pleasure upon his brother’s muscled back. "I want to hear another merman story!" Verde looked over at Melin, smiling. He was weak, he could not deny these dear ones. *** He had been angry for days. And when Turchino was angry the sky and the sea rolled, rose and sank, nearly meeting in the middle. His storms were the stuff of legends. Now he wasn't angry anymore. Just tired. And a little worried. His sweet children lived in the oceans, and he had not been kind to the oceans -- his storms had stirred them up and flung them against the earth with inhuman strength. He searched through the waters for them, looking for their loving touch. Deeper and deeper he traveled, going down into the darkest depths of his oceans. Turchino saw one emptied city after another, his children having retreated to the Great Caves. Finally, as the god reached the outskirts of the underwater stronghold, the softest touches brushed across his mind, subdued and careful, but still quietly rejoicing at his presence. Two mermen, strong and beautiful -- one violet and the other shot through with silver -- swam before him. Their muscles rippled, hooked weapons in their hands. Warriors, guardians, protectors of the school. They moved as one, bowing before him, their thoughts warming the cool water.


You do not need your weapons with me, my children. I will not harm you or your brothers and sisters. The hooks fell, happy smiles gracing the too-serious faces.Our Beloved! Our Lord! You are well and whole. We worried for you, longed for you. Two slick bodies twined around him, his children unafraid and ecstatic. He took their joy as a balm, letting it smooth the edges in his spirit still raw from his anger, letting it fill him happiness. He reached out and touched them as they moved around him, hands sliding over warm muscles and slick scales. Webbed hands brushed through his hair, lips were warm and eager on his skin. So free with their love, their passion -- they shared all with him. Beautiful Lord! Our heart, our hope! Missed you! Waited for your pleasure! Oh, such passion and happiness, their excitement and joy his and his alone. He lay back, floating in the water.Love me as only you can, my children. He was set upon by incredible strength and unrelenting pleasure, spun round and round in the water. There was a mouth on his spine, hands massaging his shoulders, another mouth engulfing his hardness, a tail slick against his legs. He let his pleasure flow to them, sharing as openly with them as they did with him. There was nothing that could compare with the way his mermen loved him. His lips were taken in a long kiss, violet eyes shining at him. Those strong hands slid over his body, down over the silver hair of the merman feasting upon his phallus. He undulated, rippling beneath the touches. His hips pushed his hardness deeper into the heat that sucked him. One hand cupped his sacs, another stroked his hip. Suddenly the water was alive -- the chorus of thousands of loved and beloved minds singing for him, for his pleasure, for him alone. He cried out, his joy bringing light to even these depths of the ocean as his silver-haired child swallowed down his pleasure. They sank slowly, four hands becoming dozens as he was welcomed into his children's hearts. *** "What could make the god of skies and seas so angry?" asked Melin, having crept into Verde’s lap. "Many things." Marrone answered. "Our siblings are capricious. Are they not, brother?" Verde grinned. "Be fair, beloved. Sometimes the anger is well-deserved."


"Oh, yes. Why, I remember the story of Rivermoon." *** Balls of lightning rolled across the mesa, the spirits playing, carried by the weight and fury of the coming storm. Blacker than night, the cloud stampeded over the sun, winds screaming as the mist-stallions led the rush, shattering the sky, rain bleeding down behind. Rivermoon’s skin drew tight, the sand clinging to each pore, drowning him in the heavy air as he waited for water. The thongs around wrist and tail and throat had dried long before his lips, growing stiff first, then tight, then painful, the sun betraying him yet again. The old woman had warned him before he escaped into the night, into the desert, into the Land of the Gods, that he was born of the moon, of the dark, of the richness of secrets and mystery and the silent owl who hunted at the banks. The hawk and golden-eyed warrior had snared him in the riverbed, his silence pointless when the light set the silver at his brow aflame, making a beacon for his enemy. A beacon for the Bright God. Torn and bloodied, hooked and dragged from the waters -- the warrior put him in a box and bade him live so as to serve as sacrifice, as payment, as living promise to a name he had never heard sung. Sung -- oh,Most Loved! Beloved Lord. Beautiful Storm and Bearer of Sky and Sea. His prayers were fervent and soft, his eyes -- silver as his hair – clouded as he whispered for the storm to come. Their Lord, their Beautiful One, their Heart and Hope -- he could only wish that the One who Made the Waters would take him into perfect arms and wash him with the waves of eternity. The drops fell upon parched lips, trailing over his still face like tears. *** "Oh, how terrible!" exclaimed Melin, face buried in Verde’s chest. "Yes," agreed Liska. "You must tell us what happened to poor Rivermoon!" "And so I shall." Chapter Eight

Turchino howled. The winds whipped up, sending the clouds skittering through the sky, storm building and building as he flew through the sky, seeking the source of the painful prayers that wailed in his ears. One of his children needed him.


He sent the rains ahead of him, letting them forewarn his coming. He howled again as he found the merman, staked out upon the sands, colorful scales dull and dry, pain etched upon the beautiful face. He roared, lightning filling the sky, hitting the temple to his brother Arancione, sending its congregation scattering. He could feel his brother's wrath push toward him and he turned everything he had on his brother, rage making him strong and sending Arancione back to his bower.His child had been taken, had been violated, had been left to die. In Arancione's name. He would demand payment, but that could wait. The merman's pain was not assuaged by his rains, only kept from becoming worse. His child needed him. Swooping down, he gathered the merman in his arms and flew deep into the mountains. This child was one who danced among the fresh waters, far rarer than his seawater cousins. Turchino took him into a deep cavern where a dark, cold, fresh spring began, fed by glacial ice. He immersed them both into the water. A soft moan sounded, the tiniest whimper filling the air.Beloved One. Beautiful One. We called for you. We knew you would come. Yes, my child. I would not leave one of my own to be so badly used. You will be avenged, my child. But first...He bent and pressed his lips to the merman's, filling his child with his own sweet breath. He pushed the pain and ache away with his breath, those poor foggy eyes clearing, silver beginning to glow for him, scales beginning to shimmer. He ran his hands over the rejuvenating skin, adding his touch as a soothing balm to sun-burned skin and seared wrists, ankles and neck. He would not allow his own to suffer. Oh... Oh, our Lord. Our love. Our life. Salty, grateful tears slid over the drawn cheeks, body beginning to move in the water, slow beautiful waves. What is your name, child? Tell me so that we may sing together in these quiet pools. We are Floatingfeather's son and Smoothstone's father and your own Rivermoon, Beloved one. Rivermoon the Strong.He kissed the merman again, taking pleasure in the way Rivermoon was recovering, Oh. We are honored. Opening easily, the water began to ripple with a tentative pleasure, a quiet joy. He wrapped his spirit around the merman, mouth and hands working to call forth more of Rivermoon's


pleasure. He could feel the hunger and happiness flow for him, the adoration and thanks sweeter than anything, those bright eyes full of his own reflection. I would fill you with myself, Rivermoon. Please, Most Loved. I am your own. He slid around to push up against Rivermoon's back, arms circling the muscled body, holding the merman close. Sliding one hand down, he stroked the shining scales.Open to me, Rivermoon . His fingers slid against the hidden opening to the strong body, muscles relaxing for him, opening to his touch. Such heat and pleasure to be had here. It was not an act he performed often -- the mermen gave of themselves willingly -- as this was extremely intimate for them and he rarely linked himself that way with them. Rivermoon, however, had suffered greatly and still had cleaved to him. You shall be my very own, special even amongst the most special of my children.He pushed into Rivermoon's body, filling the merman with his heat. We are yours. We believed in our Lord. Strong arms reached up to hold him, stroke him, share his joy. He rocked against the solid body, the waters churning around them, swirling and rolling them as they came together again and again in pleasure and devotion. The bright songs of pleasure grew until the waters rang with his name, with hope, with love. He found Rivermoon's phallus, pulling it fully from its place hidden among the merman's scales, and began to stroke it, urging Rivermoon to greater pleasure. Beloved! Most loved!Rivermoon rippled around him, shaft hot and heavy as it slid in his hand. My Rivermoon. Child of my heart. Show me your pleasure. All for you!The beautiful body convulsed, heat poured over his hand. He shared his own pleasure with Rivermoon, filling the merman with his seed. Now no one would be able to harm this one. Rivermoon arched, whole and healthy, near glowing in the dark cave. As Turchino watched, the silver hair darkened to a deep, rich blue, marking this one as his very own. He held his merman in his arms, floating in the pure, clear waters. The blue hair swirled and slid around them both, mixing with his own. Rivermoon relaxed against him, love and joy pouring over him. That faithful heart had never doubted, had believed in him. How anyone could harm such beauty... He could feel his outrage returning, anger and rage at his brother that such a thing could be allowed, possibly even encouraged. He slipped back around Rivermoon and offered a quick kiss.


I must go now, most loved Rivermoon. If you have need of me, I will return with but a thought. We will await your pleasure, most Loved. We love you. We are yours. Those silver eyes shone at him, loved him. I will return, Rivermoon the Strong. With that promise between them, he flew out to the sky to find his wretched brother. *** “And did he return, my Lords?” Liska asked, all their children enthralled, as always, by the tales. “Indeed. He did. For Turchino is as faithful as his dear ones.” *** Rivermoon laughed and played in the caves, tail splashing water on the walls, songs in praise of their most beloved echoing back to his ears. Happy. So happy. He danced in the bubbling water, his body sleek and long and healthy as it slid over the smooth stones. A touch, one he could not mistake, slid along his body, cool and right like the water, but more, so much more. Our Lord! Our most Beloved! He arched out of the water, tail fin spread wide in greeting. My dearest Rivermoon. His Lord smiled at him, arms open wide in invitation. Oh! So lovely! So beautiful! His heart leapt and he hurried into those warm and beloved arms, tail sliding against his Lord in pure pleasure.Our Lord! We have been singing of your beauty, your joy. Those blue eyes that were pure water smiled at him.I know, my precious child -- I have heard your songs and they pleased me well. Lord Turchino was warm and strong and all around him now. His fingers trailed through the soft hair, his body rippling around pure perfection.How we love you, most Beautiful Lord. What joy you bring us. Everything he was, he would offer to that will. Everything. No more than you deserve, Bright One. Lord Turchino began to stroke him. His song grew, pleasure and honor bright as it crashed and poured over him. I would take my pleasure with you, my sweet child. Beaming, filled with happiness, Rivermoon nodded, tail splashing the clear water.Please. Yes. Please, our Lord.


A purring sounded, the water bubbling and warm, sliding along his skin in a godly caress. He laughed, spinning and rolling with the sensations. His own hands stroked and petted, sliding on skin smoother than water. His Lord's lips closed over his own, joining their mouths in another caress. Rivermoon relaxed into the kiss, flowing in and around and about his most beloved lord. He could feel the large phallus, hot and hard and huge against his belly. He turned, offering himself to his Lord, offering the deepest, most private touch.For you, Beloved. Rivermoon the Strong -- bearer of his Lord's seed. The words blessed him as the large phallus filled him, no pain, no burn, just sheer pleasure pushed in with that flesh. His songs grew stronger, echoing through the caves, sharing his love and honor with all who would hear. His own pleasure was increased, his Lord sharing what he was feeling, offering him so very much. Our Lord! Most Loved!His body swelled, phallus filling in its pouch. Yes, Rivermoon, my very own. Strong hands stroked through his long blue hair, tangling in it. He arched beneath the touch, bowing for his Lord's pleasure, calling out in joy. His own hair, his Lord's hair, and one hand wrapped around his phallus and began to stroke in time with each thrust. They moved together, rocking as the waves, the motions flowing them one into the other. Beautiful, Rivermoon. You make me happy. His honor and love was so great that there was no room for anything else, tears of joy sliding from his eyes, seed pouring over Lord Turchino's hand. "Yes!" His Lord's shout echoed through the caves, filling them with a beautiful song, even as he was filled with burning seed. They floated together, the water caressing and rejoicing around them.You are loved, our Lord. Most loved. As are you, Rivermoon the Strong. Marked as mine. Yes, Lord. Your own Rivermoon. Your own. My own. He was turned, soft kisses pressing again on his lips. Rivermoon dared to reach up, trace the fine features. His Lord nuzzled into the touch, a soft smile on his face. He held his beloved gently, offered his Lord a warm place to rest, to laugh, to play. His Lord Turchino lay with him, taking what he offered. Peace settled over the waters.


*** “Oh, such a happy ending. For both Turchino and his Rivermoon.” “Yes, Liska. You see how good things are between the gods and their beloved? That is how it can be for all of us, gods and disciples. You are proof that such as we can coexist.” “You seem to glow when speak of Turchino.” “We love our brother Turchino and love to see him happy.” *** Turchino flowed over Verde's skin, whispered secrets against his brother's warmth. Verde, sweet and responsive, arched beneath him, offering more of that fine skin, begging without word or thought for his touch. His fingers were rivers as he explored the landscape of Verde's body. He could feel Marrone's attention upon them, though the horned god did not join them. Still, Marrone's pleasure added to Verde's, which added to his own. Lapping at Verde's skin, he pushed into heat, surging in as the tide. Verde cried out for him, the sound echoing with Marrone's roar. The rhythm they established was ancient, eternal. In and out, in and out, like the tides against the shore. Verde's fingers explored him softly, found again and again the places he best liked being touched. His pleasure rained down on them both, warming the earth, feeding it pure, sweet water. Verde's mouth opened and Turchino accepted the silent invitation, licking at his brother's lips before sliding his tongue inside. The sweet perfume of trees and grasses, flowers and herbs filled him. The hint of dark, rich loam that lingered within the kiss reminded him of Marrone's attention, made him shiver. "Your twin watched," he murmured against Verde's neck. "My Beloved is with me always," came Verde's reply, fingers sliding down his back, cupping his buttocks. "I envy you." Verde's hands squeezed, encouraging his movements to speed. "Just hold me in your fluid embrace and love us, Turchino." And so he did. He wrapped his hand around Verde's phallus, pulled in time with his thrusts. "Yes," whispered Verde. "Just like that. More." They moved together, earth and sky meeting, coming together until they both shattered, Verde's seed


spreading between them, his own pulsing deep into his brother. They lay together, Verde warm, arms around him, holding him close. The musk of earth and salt of ocean filled the air, heavy and replete, lingering as they lay together. Marrone's joy in Verde, in him as well, covered them, leaving them warm and close. Turchino closed his eyes and rested, safe and warm within their embrace. *** “Beautiful,” murmured Marrone, voice deep and low, a caress, and Verde turned to his beloved, curled up with him. “You do indeed love him,” said Melin, smiling. “Yes. Though we are not alone in that love.” Verde grinned wickedly, teasing their sweet ones. Eyes turned to them, mouths opening. Marrone knew what pleas were coming, and he knew exactly the tale that would satisfy them. *** Turchino flew through the air, dancing among the clouds: around and around and up and over and through them he played. The earth called out to him, voice parched, and he released the clouds from the dance, letting them rain down onto the thirsty ground. He could hear the soft, distracted thanks of his brothers, the twins lost in each other as they drank down his rain. Oh, to belong to another as they did to each other. He wished to sip from their rich passion. Sliding from the clouds, he threw himself at the ground, falling into a million million raindrops and hitting the earth over and over and over again. When he again assumed human form, he was in their bower. Rich brown eyes smiled over at him, a low welcoming rumble pouring from Marrone's lips onto Verde's skin. "Is there room for another in your bed, my brothers?" Verde slid one hand along his twin's antlers, the other reaching for him. "Always, beautiful brother." Hard and warm, the antlers stroked his palm as Marrone bobbed his head. "We were blessed by your rains, your water, your endless sky." He slid his hands over Marrone's antlers, fingers touching, caressing, knowing it made his brother wild.


To Verde he offered his mouth, the rich, loamy taste of his brother filling him. Marrone's cry sounded, needy and wanton, head jerking with pleasure. He could feel Verde, legs nudged apart, his earthen brothers always ready to rut. He rained kisses upon them both, his own need growing as they began to move together, their cries filling him. A sudden warmth covered his spine, the heat and width of Violo spreading him even as the playful laughter joined earth to water and thousands of lilies bloomed, the croaking of frogs filling the air. Verde's laughter joined Violo's, even as he himself was speared by that joy. He fell forward onto their bed of grasses, nibbling along Verde's neck as Violo loved him. Violo's hands draped crowns of blossoms over Marrone's horns, his brother flowing into him, over him, around him. Marrone's lips were warm against his spine, Verde's hot on his forehead. He raised his face and three sets of lips pressed together with his, their breath flowing from one to the other. Sweet and rich, earth and air -- they moved as one, loved and beloved, earth and sky and life drawn together. He and Violo pressed close to the hot bodies of the twins, the four of them merging, melding, making the world rich with abundant life. Violo's hands reached around them, wrapping around his shaft, Verde's. They were held together, stroked with a rhythm echoing through the stones themselves, carried upon the winds. Hot and cold, hard and soft, dark and light, all the opposites of the world flowed through them, channeled by Violo. Marrone's call was rich, desperate, framed by the syllables of his twin's name. Turchino let his form go, let the pleasure carry him on its wave, and broke into a million million drops against the twins as he came. He coalesced upon a cloud of lavender laughter, buoyed by a deep-rooted vine of greenest leaves. He wrapped around the vine and then leapt into the cloud, trusting his brothers to support him in his play. Violo's laughter and lust cosseted him, cradled him, loved him. The twins were hot and heavy on his back, Verde filling him suddenly, the Green God's heat like a brand, marking him as theirs. Violo was on his knees before Marrone, taking the long, dark shaft deep, each moan creating a symphony.


With a thought he moved himself and Verde so that he could take Violo, the four of them forming a chain of pleasure that ran four gods deep. Marrone's needy roar was swallowed by his own lips; Verde reaching out to stroke those antlers and close the circle completely. Marrone and Verde grounded them in the physical, Violo kept their pleasure constantly growing and changing, while he kept them moving fluidly, back and forth like waves upon a shore. Around them, the world was changing, the ground and sky and universe itself woven and rewoven with pleasure and passion. He lost himself in them and found himself again, as renewed and remade as the universe itself. They rested together, Violo and Verde curled together in his lap, Marrone supporting his back, fierce passion mellowed into play and rest. Marrone's hand brushed through his hair, sending more rain upon the earth. "Such beauty, such love." "My brothers, you honor me with your pleasure and yourselves." He melted against them, with them, buoyed by their love. Held and wanted, surrounded by desire and creation, pleasure and steady peace, he rested. *** “That was most satisfactory.” Liska and Mikah were curled together, looking pleasured and pleased. Little Melin was still wrapped in his brother’s lap, and Marrone smiled. “You wish to hear another tale of the mermen.” He could tell the creatures had captured Melin’s imagination. “I do.” “Then you shall.” *** The humans who fished in the seas, who tilled the land, who knew what water and rain could do for them, had a week-long festival in his honor. Turchino had made an appearance on the second day and stayed, the mortals so loving and happy to have him in their midst. He always had been a sucker for adoration. Of course it was love of children well-blessed with what they asked for, not the true eternal love that was given as his due day in and day out, no matter what. No, only his children of the sea offered him that unconditional love. By the time the week was up, he was yearning for the simple, uncomplicated joy and love his mermen offered.


With a thought he was in the seas, flying through the water as he searched for those who loved him best. He found a trio of pretty mermen wrestling and playing, stretched out on a outcropping of stone, their joy carried to him in bubbles. He floated for a while, watching, absorbing their joy for life, their zest, the way they looked, all muscles and multicolored scales sliding together. Finally, one saw him, green eyes sparkling.Our Lord! Look! Look! He has come to play! Suddenly he was surrounded by love and laughter made flesh. He soaked it in, the pure, unadulterated pleasure at his presence a balm to the noise and selfish love he'd been lavished with over the last few days. My children.He touched each of them, stroking scales and sliding his fingers along strong muscles. Beautiful Lord! Our heart! Our love! A trio of voices bounced within him, happy and rejoicing, strong tails stroking his legs and torso. Warm skin, cool scales, the contrasts made him shiver, made his body hard, his phallus red-tipped and leaking. A gold head dipped down, took him deep, even as a pair of the palest blue lips pressed against his own. He purred, opening his mouth and tasting the pleasure on the sweet lips. Bright blue eyes sparkled and gleamed, hands soft in his hair.How we love you. Our Beautiful Lord! Oh yes, my children. And you are most beloved. My very own. His pleasure was great and he touched them, sharing the joy with them. Another mouth pushed into the kiss, giggles tickling him, filling him. He came, filling the golden-haired one with his seed. Two strong tails wrapped around him, stroking and squeezing, rippling. So strong. There was nothing like his children, so strong, so gentle. Wondrous feelings went through him. Golden eyes sparkled at him a heartbeat before the mermen's blue brother tackled, fighting for a taste of his seed on the beloved lips. He laughed and turned to the third merman, winking.There is more from the source. Emerald eyes grew wide, laughter bright.Oh? What a rich blessing! Might your beloved Shelllight feed? Indeed, he might. If he so wishes.He stroked the turquoise cheek, imparting warmth and pleasure.


A soft trill sounded, warm and happy, the beautiful face nestling into his touch.Such beauty . And you are a reflection of me, sweet one.He bent forward, bringing their lips together. Oh...such honor! Such love!Happy cries pushed into his mouth, body moving against him. Sweet child, so full of love and happiness.He flowed around the merman, touching and offering pleasure. Blue and gold eyes appeared.You are with us! You are our love, our heart. There is no room for sorrow. He laughed, hands trailing over all of them.Come, my children! Let us dance with the waves . The agreement rang through the waters, hands drawing him deeper into the cool waters. Humans, who needed them? *** “Well if there were no humans, there would be no one to build temples to you and spread the word of your greatness. No one to hear that word.” Liska sounded quite put out. Marrone laughed. “We are not as our brother Turchino.” “Oh, yes, for many of us, we are devoted to our human servants.” “That is not always a good thing, brother.” Marrone laughed again, the sound echoing in their cavern. “No brother, it is not.” Chapter Nine

Violo held court in his palace regularly -- well, as regularly as he did anything -- dealing with lost and forgotten muses, mending the broken wings and hearts of his beloved ones and listening to their tales. It was his greatest joy, his greatest source of amusement and, periodically, the source of his fury. A sweet, tiny muse had limped home -- starved and overworked, asked to perform endlessly without care or rest, beauty or peace. All too often this happened. A mortal would be blessed with a muse and then the rigors of mortal life would interfere, grind the tie between artist and muse until the sweet beloved flew home, leaving both mortal and muse bereft. He stroked and petted the pretty little muse, bringing the mottled rainbow of colors back into her wings. "Shall I go avenge you, little one?"


She shook her head, pointed chin firm. "No, Creator. I wish you to make him well. His heart has forgotten you, forgotten me, forgotten how to truly believe." He nodded, smiled. He was exceptionally capable of causing wide-spread belief among his followers. If his presence did not accomplish that, then a decade in his dungeons would. "I will grant your wish, little one. Go and rest and I will cure this mortal of his malaise." Muses' kisses were sweet and they tingled, even against his eternal lips, and his mouth still felt full and warm when he appeared in a barren room, the scent of linseed oil in the air. The artist was a young man, well-built though thin beneath his painter's smock. He sat despondently in the window seat, looking out over the lands that surely belonged to his patron. The room was littered with canvases, each of them destroyed. Bright gold curls framed the sulky face, the wind stirring them gently. "I believe I have someone who belongs with you, but I will not return her unless you take more care with the gifts you are given." The young man started, gaze turning to him. With a gasp, the painter fell to the floor on his knees. "My Lord Violo." He arched an eyebrow. "So you do remember your Lord. Your lady muse whispered the news that your faith had failed you." "My muse deserted me, my Lord. I am a prisoner in despair's keep. I have the desire to paint, but my feeble efforts are nothing short of hideous." "Your muse was sadly mistreated, mortal -- starved and exhausted, no care given to her happiness, her joy -- you know nothing of being imprisoned, Painter. Take care that continues to be a truth." Bah, whining. How unutterably boring. Blue eyes full of pain and confusion turned up to him. "But Lord...I do not understand." "Which fact escapes you? That your muse was not well-fed with joy and beauty? That you required her to perform for you without adequate recompense?" He reached down, looked into those lost eyes. "What confuses you, Painter?" Fear crept in at the edges of those eyes now, the young man almost flinching. "Recompense, my Lord?" "Yes, Painter. Recompense." He drew them away to a high balcony in his palace, the view wild, breathtaking, supreme. "Beauty, joy, colors, pleasure, laughter -- these things are the muses' coin." He held the mortal so that all might be seen, the glory of creation, bubbling with life and bliss and pain. "They are born from this maelstrom, wet-winged and full." "It is beautiful, Lord." The mortal sounded sad. "I could never create anything like this. My art is...poor and wretched."


"Then perhaps I should remove the gift from you altogether." The young man nodded. "Perhaps you should, my Lord. And my life with it." Violo shrugged. "As you wish." He snapped his fingers, the lifeless body falling into the void, an iridescent opal resting on his palm, pulsing with consciousness. "You will cause my little one much joy in this form, Painter. Bring a sparkle to those tired eyes." He smiled, tilted his head. "If you're lucky, she'll keep you with the others so you won't be lonely. Of course, muses can beso fickle... They do so love novelty." With that he willed himself back to his throne, jewel deposited in his cloak to deliver to his little one when she awoke. *** There were gasps and giggles and Liska grinned wickedly. “One must be careful what one wishes for.” “Indeed!” Verde nodded and clapped his hands, pleased with their clever girl. She would be a good mother of the new village set up in their honor in the spring. “My Lords,” murmured Mikah. “Remember Arancione’s gift? The one with a twin in Violo’s dungeons?” “We do indeed.” “Is there more to be told of him?” Verde laughed softly and nodded. So greedy for the wonders they spoke about. “Oh yes, but first you must hear of the twin.” *** Eric ate sparingly, taking his sustenance from broth and the light bread that Lilaca brought him. He drank only water. His body was a temple, a shrine for his Lord Violo, and he would not foul it. Indeed, it was his honor to keep himself ready for his Lord's will. Tonio came to brush his hair, Nitsio with him, rubbing sweet oils into Eric’s skin from the tips of his toes and fingers to his head. He turned, lying on his belly with his buttocks in the air, moaning softly as Nitsio's fingers pressed oil into his passage. It could only mean one thing -- his Lord would have him this night. Once he was oiled and brushed, he was dressed in a violet robe and led to the room where his Lord took pleasure in him. Nitsio led him to the wall, stretching him out against it and shackling his feet and hands against the wall, leaving him spread-eagle and alone. Waiting. He waited for what seemed hours before the wind began moving against him, against his skin. Strong enough to feel, light enough to tease, the phantom touches were random -- his nipples, his chin, his thigh,


his toes -- making his skin tingle and ache. Soft gasps filled the air -- his own, though it was several moments before he realized it. The touches continued, one sliding along his spine, one seeming to push into his aroused shaft, filling him. "Oh, my Lord," he murmured, body shaking. He offered his pleasure freely. His answer was a breath of melody, pure and sweet, aching in his ears. The touches continued, pushing him harder and higher, sheer sensation sending him soaring. He shook; it would not be long before his pleasure took over his body and spent from him, offered to his Lord. Pressure built within him, his Lord coalescing, taking form with the length of that long phallus buried deep inside his body. He cried out his pleasure, seed spraying from him. His Lord purred against his ear. "Filled so deep that you must spend your seed." "Yes, my Lord." He trembled. One hand curled around his shaft, filling him to a painful hardness with a touch. "I will milk the pleasure from you until you know nothing but my need." "Yes, my Lord." He whimpered, leaning back against his Lord as much as he could. Violo began moving, rocking, taking him deep and hard, sensation slamming through him, his Lord's presence overwhelming, all-encompassing. He sank into his Lord with every sense. There was nothing but heat and power and creation, nothing but his Lord. "I have a gift for you. Your twin. He is yours to tutor, Eric. Yours to use." That voice was symphony upon symphony. A gift, for him? When his Lord had already given him so much. He cried out, coming again, body squeezing around the thick phallus inside him. He felt Violo's moan against his shoulder, felt the heat of seed filling his body as his Lord held him tight. He cried out again, body shaking at the gift that filled him. "Oh, my Lord," he whispered. "You honor me and then honor me again. I am your humble servant." "Yes." His stomach was stroked, petted, and then the presence behind him faded. "I expect your twin to please me well, Eric. See to it." "As you will it, my Lord, so shall it be." *** “Oh, so beautiful!” “Yes, child. Nothing is more beautiful than pleasure and devotion freely given.” Verde stroked his


brother’s belly. “So what of Valetto?” asked Mikah. He laughed, lying with his head cushioned by the firm abdomen of his twin. “Patience, and I will tell his story.” *** He woke with a jerk, scrambling upright and moving back on soft sheets until his back hit a wall. Sheets? Valetto shook his head, face burying in his hands. He had been in the darkness so long, then burned terribly by bright fury. Rescued by cool hands and soft promises and... And now he was lost and afraid. "Brother? Valetto?" The voice was soft, somehow familiar. He lifted his head, coming face to face with...himself. "What magic is this?" His double sat on the bed across from him. "No magic, brother. I am Eric, your twin, offered to my most exalted Lord Violo before we were even born." "E...Eric. I heard...I thought I heard... But it doesn't matter." The conversation he had overheard so long ago, in a place so different from here. "Why am I here?" "So that I might teach you how best to please our Lord." "Lord Arancione no longer wants me." He had never gone beyond causing the god offense. It seemed to be his gift. Eric frowned. "Arancione? He is not our Lord. You belong to me now, brother. And I belong to our Lord Violo." Smiling, his brother reached out, fingers sliding along his cheek. "We will find such pleasure together, brother, and then we will offer it all to our Lord." "I belong to you?" He leaned into the touch, confused, lost, seeking answers. "I do not understand." "My Lord Violo gifted you to me." Eric leaned forward, bringing their faces together, all but touching. "It is like looking into a mirror, but you are flesh and blood and warm." He blinked and nodded. "You look like me, like I dream myself to look." "This is no dream, brother." Eric's lips pressed against his, warm and soft, undeniably real. He gasped, blinking, lips parting in shock. Eric's tongue slipped in and then out again, painting his bottom lip with moisture. The frown was back on his brother's face. "Surely you've been kissed before, brother?"


"I." He stopped and leaned back. His life in the dungeons had been simple. He had performed manual labor all day, given one trainer pleasure with his body while the other took his mouth, eaten and slept. He was Lord Arancione's slave, offered as such by his father, the king. "Never kissed? Have you never known the pleasure of bodies either? Oh, brother, such things I have to show you, to teach you. What fun!" Eric leaned in once more, pushing their lips together, tongue warm and wet as it teased at his lips. The sensation was fascinating, hot and tingly and...oh. He parted his lips farther, letting the touch comfort him. Eric's tongue slipped between his lips as before, into his mouth. Soft and warm and gentle, almost like a butterfly flitting here and there within his mouth; Eric was tasting him. His breath was coming quick and light, tremors shivering along his skin. Oh. Oh. Eric's hand slid along his cheek, cupping his face and tilting him just so. The warm tongue in his mouth pressed deeper, exploring thoroughly. One tear slid down his cheek as he moaned, leaning into the almost-familiar touch. His brother moaned, too, the sound vibrating against his tongue. Valetto's tongue moved to meet his brother's, just tasting lightly. So odd. So familiar and strange all at once. A sweet sound filled his mouth and Eric's tongue slid along his and then retreated slowly, drawing him into his brother's mouth. Oh! So hot! The heat surprised him, the sensation of tasting another's mouth fascinating. Eric made more noises of appreciation and pleasure, free hand sliding into his hair, petting him. That melted him, that warm, sweet touch, and he moaned, cuddling into his brother's arms. Eric pulled him close, skin so warm and soft against his own. The kisses melted one into another, his brother not pushing for more, despite the heat and hardness of Eric's cock. He didn't know if he was aroused, but the comfort, thetouch was addictive, so welcome and wonderful. Eric stroked his back, fingers sliding over his spine from his neck to the top of his crease, over and over again. "Oh." He shuddered, blinking over at this amazing man that looked so much like him. "So good." Eric smiled. "I told you we'd have fun." "You did." Valetto looked, blinked. "I don't know what to do, why I'm here. Do you know?" His twin nodded. "You are my gift and my Lord's pleasure. I have no other duties but to please him and teach you how to do the same. I have my own servants and these are my rooms -- we can learn each other's bodies," Eric laughed. "Which will be like learning our own all over again, won't it?" That laugh was infectious and he settled close, feeding off Eric's warmth. "I have not been found pleasing before. I am not sure I am able." "Oh, you've already pleased me." Eric's arms settled around Valetto, pulling him to sit between his brother's legs, head on the thin shoulder that was so much like his own. "And as for what to do -- we'll just start at the beginning and teach youeverything . Trust me, I didn't


spring into this world knowing what to do either -- my Lord has taught me how to please him and made me fly higher than I could even imagine was possible." Tears rolled down his face and he nodded, wrapping himself in the comfort of touch. "I will do my best for you." Eric kissed away his tears. "I know." He was pulled down, curled against his brother. "Rest now, and then we'll eat, give you strength to enjoy what comes after kissing." Valetto nodded, closed his eyes and, for the first time in recent memory, slept without dreams. *** Liska kissed his cheek as the story finished and Verde purred at her. "So many wonderful tales, such beauties who belong to the gods." "My favorites are the ones with you both," murmured Melin. Verde laughed, rubbing against his heart, his Marrone. "You are now a part of our myths, sweet ones. For generations they will speak of the children of Verde and Marrone who renewed the earth in our names." "Us, honored ones?" Mikah's eyes were large, full of wonder. "Indeed. Is it not so, my beloved Marrone?" "It is. Do you not hear the spring coming? You will venture out and the spring flowers will ring with your names." "Oh!" Liska rose, their own brave girl the first to venture toward the cave's mouth. "Once you go this time will be as a dream," Verde told her softly. "But follow your heart and never forget the twin gods you will make your temple to." She ran back to kiss him, to hug Marrone's strong neck. "I will never forget you," she insisted. He laughed softly. It was not forgetting, not exactly, but it was not remembering either. "Go now. My beloved and I must coax the earth to renew her bounty." He turned toward his beloved, his Marrone, arms reaching, trusting that Liska would lead the others out. Marrone's fingers traced his cheek, dark eyes warm and wanton, focused on him and him alone. "What a pleasant wintering we have enjoyed, beloved." "Yes, my beloved, but it is time to share ourselves with the world, to run through the forests and call forth the growth. I can feel it inside me." "Time is the master of us all, brother. She moves through eternity."


"She demands you love me," he told his beloved twin, laughing softly. Perhaps that demand was really his own. "And I do, with every inch of me." Marrone's horns grew, twisting, covered with soft fuzz. Verde rubbed against his twin's strength, his body responding as it did to no other, his hands sliding over the proud horns. "We should run, Verde. The grasses beg for your song." "And for your hooves, my beloved." He pressed close, lips finding Marrone's. Their kisses made the ground tremble, the grasses demanding their due. And so they ran, Marrone's body firm and right between his thighs, spring welcoming them with bright sunshine and warm rain. *** Time moved slowly in their grotto, inching along until a single of Verde's breaths that tickled his mane was an eon, lifetimes upon lifetimes. Marrone reached out with a lazy hand, stroking the fine line of Verde's nose, the silk of Verde's hair. His twin was the most beautiful, the most beloved of all life. Verde purred, nuzzling into his touch, body moving closer, rubbing.You are life, Beloved. He purred, allowing his hands to explore, to trace the vines of life beneath the blessed skin.I am yours in all things. All things?Verde's eyes lit up with dancing mischief. Indeed. All things. He arched an eyebrow, curious now, time moving faster. Did you see Violo's new favorite? That sweet muse was all muscles and long ringlets and heavy cock. Verde rubbed harder against him. The one at our brother's knee? Yes, Beloved. I saw.Marrone drew Verde closer, moving one leg so their bodies could meet fully. He would be fun to play with. To entice away. Entice away?He smiled and took a kiss, teasing in return.Should we not just ask to play once our brother is finished with his toy? Verde laughed, the sound happy and wicked and tickling down his spine. “Where would the fun be in that, Beloved? He always teases so -- it would only be fair to tease back.” His words were spoken this time and Marrone answered in kind. “Shall I deliver him to you? Let you seduce him away?”


“Letus seduce him away, Beloved -- I am nothing without you.” He laughed, pleased and delighted, his mouth finding Verde's with a rich hunger, tongue pressing into the flavor of life. His Verde opened to him, always so eager for their rutting, offering himself over with a passion matched only by his own. Marrone felt his antlers begin to grow, passion rising within him like sap.Most beloved! Most beloved. Verde repeated, meaning Marrone, pushing against him now, fingers sliding over his antlers, knowing as no one else did exactly where to touch him. He rolled atop Verde, moaning.How I need, brother . His Verde's legs split, wrapped around his waist.I am here, Beloved. Take what you need. Yes.His antlers were full and spread wide as he pushed inside Verde's heat, toes curling, mane caught in the wind. Verde cried out, voice making the mountains tremble. They moved together, rutted together, loved together with an unending passion that threatened to stop time, their hunger supreme. Satyrs were born, springing up around them and joining in their rutting, petting and kissing them before turning to each other. His body shuddered, shook, roars raising mountains as his pleasure peaked. His Beloved's heat splashed between them, creation itself springing forth with joy. He purred and pressed close, wrapped within and around his twin.Beloved. Yes, my own.Verde kissed him long and slow. “Shall we go cause trouble, Beloved?” “Indeed. If nothing else, Violo's wrath makes his mouth sweeter.” With a thought they vanished, leaving behind only Verde's laughter echoing within the deserted bower. end.


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Gods And Monsters

Gods and Monsters

Gods & Monsters

Gods & Monsters

Gods & Monsters