Make-Up

Toy Box: Make-Up by Sue Brown

Torquere Press www.torquerepress.com

Copyright ©2010 by Torquere Press First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2010 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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Toy Box: Make-Up by Sue Brown

CONTENTS Lipstick One Hell of a Day Off War Paint Contributors Bios ****

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Toy Box: Make-Up Edited by M. Rode

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Lipstick By Sue Brown It's almost six thirty before Christian reaches his own dressing room. He's whiled away an hour between performances, drinking coffee and talking to a couple other members of the cast. Now it's time to go back to work. This is one of Christian's favorite parts of the whole experience. The hour before he steps out under the lights, as he transforms himself into his latest character. Of course, there is a very good reason why Christian loves it so much, but he's not here yet. Christian changes into his figure-hugging scarlet costume for the start of the show. It's an energetic role and Christian goes to the gym every day to keep fit. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he's in amazing shape and the costume really accentuates his long legs and narrow waist. There's another reason he likes it so much. With the high-heeled shoes, he's a little taller than his boyfriend. Yeah, he likes that reason plenty. Wearing a blue bathrobe over his costume, he sits in his dressing room, patiently applying the make-up needed under the strong lights of the theater. Christian's become an expert at applying the layers of foundation and powder, covering his pale skin and freckles until he can see the mask of his character over his face. It's the part of the long process that will end with Zaza stepping out on stage, Christian Ellis left far behind at the dressing room door. 5

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Fumbling around on the table, he finds the lip liner, carefully outlining his full lips, and then starts to brush the crimson lipstick over his bottom lip. He doesn't notice he's not alone until there's a hand at his back and another one turning his face to plant a kiss on his painted mouth. Christian hums contentedly into the kiss, provoking an answering murmur. "You taste horrible," his boyfriend says against Christian's mouth, but it doesn't stop him going back for another kiss, his tongue licking at the painted lips to sweep into Christian's welcoming mouth. Christian chuckles and pulls Tyler in for another kiss. "So do you, now," he points out smugly and moves so that Tyler is trapped between his legs, wriggling slightly to press his hardening cock against one of Tyler's thighs. Tyler obliges by pushing against him, letting Christian relieve some of the pressure. Large hands sneak under Christian's bathrobe to grasp his thighs. Christian can feel the warmth of Tyler's hands bleeding through the fishnet tights to his shaved legs. Tyler really likes Christian's smooth, shaved legs. Christian found it difficult to walk for a week after the first time Tyler saw Christian in stockings and high heels. He's been fucked against every surface in their apartment since then in those heels. Christian just loves the fact Tyler can manhandle him. Tyler's hands slide around Christian's ass and pull him up against the large chest. Christian sinks against his boyfriend, wanting to burrow his face in Tyler's neck but he's just done his face and he doesn't want to smear it against Tyler before the performance. Afterward is another matter. 6

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"You're so fucking hot," Tyler growls roughly against his ear. "Do we have time for me to show you just how hot?" Christian pulls back, smiling at the red lipstick stained across Tyler's lips and chin. So much for not smearing his make-up. "I have a show to do," he chides gently. "I have to be able to do things on stage—like dance, or even walk. I think they're gonna notice if I can't walk straight." He runs a thumb across the crimson stain but only succeeds in spreading it farther. Tyler bites down on his thumb and then sucks it in. Christian holds his breath as he looks at Tyler's stained mouth around his digit, sucking in a parody of fucking. Christian moans loudly and his hips buck into Tyler's; he feels rather than hears the answering moan around his thumb. His other hand tugs on Tyler's brown hair pulling him off with an obscene pop. His boyfriend's mouth is still smeared in red—his not-so-secret obsession with Christian's mouth clearly displayed for the world to see. "Suck my cock! We have time for that," Christian demands imperiously, pushing Tyler back so he can get his robe open. Tyler smirks at Christian's impatience but allows himself to be moved so that Christian can tear open his bath robe, revealing the scarlet showgirl's dress, trimmed with matching feathers. Tyler raises one eyebrow as he's faced with Christian's drag costume. "Can I get near your cock? That dress is worse than a fucking chastity belt. Where do I start?" He always complains, but Christian knows just how much Tyler loves watching him strip out of his dress. 7

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Christian stands up and shimmies out of the costume, leaving him standing in high heels and fishnet tights. He looks down at Tyler who is still kneeing at his feet and it's his turn to smirk. Oh yeah, it never fails. Tyler's leaning back now, staring up at Christian's half naked body with something like awe, his huge muscled thighs parted wide and a definite tent in the front of his pants. Christian lifts one high heel-clad foot and presses gently on the bulge, biting his bottom lip as Tyler sucks in his breath. "Oh my goodness, someone needs a bit of relief," he singsongs and presses harder, watching as Tyler's expression turns darker. "Christian," his boyfriend warns, his tone low and so, so dangerous. "Yes?" Christian asks, falsely innocent—or not. He resists the temptation to bat his eyelashes. Christian finds himself pinned against the table, the edge digging into his ass as Tyler presses his face into Christian's groin. The make-up scatters behind them, a tube of foundation rolling off the table to land under the chair, but neither of them pay any attention. Tyler raises his head and Christian's mouth goes dry. Fuck! Tyler's got that look in his eye which can only spell trouble for Christian. The last time Tyler'd worn that expression... Christian shivered. He'd felt it for a week. The raw ache in his ass every time he moved and the instant hard-on every single time he'd thought about Tyler's aggression.

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"Tyler..." Now it's his turn to issue a warning. He cannot go on stage freshly fucked by Tyler, no matter how much they're both desperate for it. "I'm gonna blow you now," Tyler announces as if Christian hasn't spoken. He runs his hands up from the shoes with their killer heels to Christian's ass. "And then you're gonna reapply that lipstick and blow me so I can see those slutty, red lips around my cock." Christian arches one delicately plucked eyebrow. "You sure you're gonna last that long?" "Watch me," Tyler mutters and he yanks down the tights and the tight briefs. Christian's cock springs free and almost slaps Tyler in the face. Christian would laugh, but Tyler doesn't give him time as he sinks over Christian's cock and swallows it whole. Maybe he should think of a mocking remark, but he is getting a blowjob. The blood isn't rushing upstairs at this point. "Damn, you're so fucking good at this." Christian states the obvious as he leans back against the table, resisting the urge to buck up into Tyler's mouth only by sheer force of will. Tyler pulls off and gives him a quizzical look. "You're still talking in whole sentences? I must be doing something wrong." He takes Christian's dick in his hand and slips his mouth over the head, his tongue probing the slit, making Christian groan even louder. Tyler stops again and grins, ignoring Christian's glare. "That's more like it. You're sounding like a man getting blown now." "Stop again and I'll..." Christian doesn't complete his empty threat because Tyler tries a new and very dirty trick, 9

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shouldering in to spread Christian's thighs and sucking at his balls. The bastard knows just how much Christian loves him doing that and even with the tights around his legs Tyler's really going for it. Christian is left gasping, white-knuckled against the table. His boyfriend plays him like a fine musical instrument, knowing just how to draw out the bitten back sounds of a man who is trying so hard not to alert the whole building that he is being fucked by an expert. Christian keens as Tyler licks up the shaft of his dick, only just managing to hold back the howl as Tyler's tongue presses against the nerves just under the head. If they were at home, Tyler would be encouraging him to 'Let it go, baby,' but here Tyler just smirks around Christian's cock at his restraint, and dives in for another attack. Christian's flushed as red as his lipstick, the muscles in his thighs trembling as he watches Tyler suck in the head of his dick and then pause, deliberately looking up to make sure Christian is watching. It's one of Tyler's quirks. He has to know Christian is fine with what Tyler is doing, so he stops every now and then to check and the bastard just won't move until Christian gives him the okay. Of course, the fact it drives Christian mad is something that Tyler enjoys far too much. Nerve-ends screaming with the anticipation of release, Christian meets Tyler's eyes, half-obscured by messy bangs. He nods just once and holds on for the ride. Tyler doesn't waste any time, screwing down over the head and down the shaft, his tongue fluttering against the top of Christian's cock. He pulls back and goes down again, over and over, 10

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swallowing Christian until Tyler's nose is buried against his clipped pubes. Christian is beyond speech, beyond thinking about anything except the sweet desire to empty his balls down Tyler's throat. He's got his hands clenched in Tyler's hair, his mouth making half-formed guttural sounds and any second now he's gonna be... there... Christian's back arches painfully, driving him deeper into Tyler's mouth and he's coming hard enough his ears are ringing. Jesus fuck! He can feel Tyler's throat working around him, trying to not to choke against the sudden rush of come in his mouth. Christian tries to pull back, to give Tyler a chance to swallow and catch his breath, but his boyfriend refuses to budge, keeping him in place with his long fingers digging into Christian's hips. Tyler milks him through his orgasm, only letting him go when the sensation on his nerves is too much and Christian hisses. Tyler lets Christian's softening cock slip out of his mouth with a last kiss. He sits back on his haunches and looks up at Christian, deliberately licking his lips. Christian may have had his words sucked out of his cock, but his dick still twitches and Tyler gives a smug chuckle. He shifts restlessly and Christian can see he's still hard under the restraint of his zipper. "Your turn?" Christian asks, and rubs the sole of his foot over Tyler's erection again. "My turn," Tyler moans softly, "but I'm going to dress you first." 11

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"Why am I not surprised?" Christian asks drily as he wipes himself with a damp wash cloth. Tyler may be all alpha male but that dress... it brings out a whole new animal. Christian has a feeling he's gonna be taking it home when the run has ended. Tyler grins at Christian's long suffering sigh. For all Christian's complaints, they both know he loves the way his costume reduces his boyfriend to a quivering heap of testosterone. They're both very predictable. Being dressed by Tyler is an exercise in torture. He's all hands and kisses, nibbles on pulse points, biting and claiming, yet always careful not to leave marks where they could be visible and have to be covered up with make-up. Tyler tucks him away in his briefs and then smoothes the tights up Christian's legs. Tyler's hands work the thin mesh up his calves and thighs. "You'll need to shave again tomorrow," Tyler tells him, rolling the tights over Christian's ass. Christian runs his hand over his calf. "I should have gotten them waxed," he grumbles. "We'll do that soon." Tyler's hands are still way too busy with Christian's ass to be absolutely necessary. He is dressed again in the red dress with the matching feathers, his first outfit in the show, when the call comes. "Fifteen minutes, Christian." They look at each other. Christian starts to drop to his knees—carefully, he doesn't want to put a hole in the tights, or worse, get baggy knees. He shudders at the thought of high kicks with the hosiery flapping around his calves. 12

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"Wait!" Tyler hisses and leans back to the table. He returns with a tube and tilts Christian's face so that he can recoat Christian's lips in scarlet. Tyler's tongue licks along his own mouth as he reapplies the lipstick. Christian can smell his breath: mint, spunk, and something sweet sending a direct signal to Christian's cock. Christian is unbuckling Tyler's belt and dragging his jeans down. Tyler's boxers are damp in the front and Christian wants to suck on the cotton to taste him but lipstick is a bitch to get out. He contents himself with pulling them down and wrapping his lips around Tyler's thick cock, humming contentedly as the bittersweet taste of pre-come sweeps across his tongue. He hasn't got time to tease as much as they'd both like. He likes it best when they're lying together in their bed and he can take an hour to bring Tyler to climax. Despite the time restraint, he takes a minute to look up at his man. Tyler is resting against the table, his eyes heavy lidded as he stares down at the sight of Christian, red-painted mouth around the head of his dick. "Please, Chris," Tyler's voice is oddly soft and pleading and one of his hands comes out to stroke Christian's face, his thumb running over the bulge of his cock in Christian's cheek. Christian sinks a little lower. He can't deep throat like Tyler can but he knows how to bring his boyfriend off, his mouth leaving lipstick streaks down the shaft as he licks, his tongue following the thick vein and then flicking over the head. His hands start up their own rhythm at the base of Tyler's cock, one of them cupping and squeezing his balls. Unlike everyday 13

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life, Tyler is normally quieter than Christian in bed, but today he is crying out as Christian's mouth, tongue and hands drive him closer and closer to climax. Conscious now of others overhearing them, Christian puts one hand up to Tyler's mouth. Two crimson polished nails are sucked desperately into Tyler's mouth. Christian pauses what he's doing to look up at Tyler, but his other hand doesn't stop pumping Tyler's cock. "Get 'em good and wet, baby," he says huskily. Dark brown eyes grow wide as Tyler realizes what Christian intends to do and he sucks at them eagerly, whimpering all the time. Christian is running out of time and he knows it, but Tyler is almost there, his head flung back as he tries to hold off. Christian needs Tyler's cock back in his mouth, wants to feel it pulse and spurt as he can't hold back any longer. Christian slides his finger back and pushes in gently against the ring of muscle. He presses in, feeling the resistance give way. Tyler shouts out and Christian winces a little for the people in the adjoining rooms, but then it doesn't matter anymore as Tyler's hips buck once, twice and Christian's mouth is filled with come. He swallows quickly to avoid it running down his face and ruining his make-up. Next time, Christian promises himself, Tyler is going to stripe his face and then lick it all off. Regretfully, Christian lets Tyler's cock slip out of his mouth to lie flaccid against one thigh. He kisses it gently, leaving behind another imprint of lipstick. Tyler is all but collapsed against the table. Getting to his feet, Christian kisses him, tongue seeking to share their taste. As he goes to pull away, 14

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Tyler's hand slides around the back of Christian's neck, drawing him in to make the kiss deeper. "Five minutes, Christian. Tyler, you put him down now." The resigned voice from the other side of the door is amused more than anything. Tyler laughs into Christian's mouth and kisses him again. There's always time for one more kiss. Christian cleans his teeth and sits down before the table. As he reaches for the foundation, there's a momentary panic until they find it on the floor under the chair. He reaches for the sponge to redo his face; no matter how careful he is, blowjobs always smudge. Tyler stays his hand. "Let me," he murmurs and Christian nods, tilting his head back so that Tyler can restore his face to that of a painted drag queen. He closes his eyes against the slow strokes of the sponge and the slight tickle of the make-up brush. Tyler is good at this, better than Christian in fact. Within a couple of minutes, Christian's face is restored. Tyler helps him on with the wig and hairpiece, making sure they are secure and kneels to slip the high-heeled shoes back on Christian's feet. They both check that the tights have survived the encounter with the floor, Tyler using it as a convenient excuse to grope Christian's legs again. Now he is ready to leave Christian Ellis behind. Standing up, Christian waits while Tyler slides a clip into one errant curl and then they leave the dressing room together, hand in hand. As Christian waits for his cue, Tyler slips away to his regular seat by the stage. Christian knows that at the end of the performance Tyler will be waiting in his dressing room to 15

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undress him, kissing every inch of skin as it is exposed. It's the way it always is; the director always there for his star. **** [Back to Table of Contents]

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One Hell of a Day Off By Misa Izanaki Frankie sprawled on the couch and flipped through a few TV channels before settling on something. He had absolutely nothing to do, which was weird but kind of nice for a change. It was Wednesday, the one day of the week that Kale closed the club and gave everyone the day off. A break in the middle of the week was nice to have and it was one of the things that made tending bar at the Body Shop so awesome. Of course, being around all the eye candy was pretty cool, too, even if Frankie already had someone. Speaking of Aki, where was he anyway? Oh, that's right, he was out shopping with Dante, one of the other bartenders at the club. That meant that Frankie was actually on his own, for once. It had been a while since that had happened. Frankie was so used to Aki being there, that it was a little odd when he wasn't. Then again, working and living together kind of did that. Aki loved to dance and had no problem showing off that sweet body of his. So, no one was terribly surprised when Aki had started stripping at the Body Shop. Frankie wouldn't have it any other way. The club was clean and safe and Kale was an awesome boss who took care of his boys and everyone was pretty cool. They were all like some big, happy but slightly dysfunctional family. Hell, Aki didn't even have to hide the fact that he was a tanuki, not with elves, a weretiger, and a kitsune all working there as well. 17

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The only real downside was that they typically had the same shifts, which meant that Frankie got to watch while Aki took his clothes off in front of all those people and that took a little getting used to. Sure, Aki looked damned sexy on stage, but that was also part of the problem. Those long legs, lithe body, and sweet, fine-boned face along with all that long, silky, dark brown hair made Aki very popular. It was great for Aki's tips but Frankie couldn't help but feel a hair jealous sometimes. Hell, their first big fight had been over the jealously thing. It had been an overreaction on Frankie's part and he did not want that to happen again. He knew that Aki's flirting was all for show and that his tanuki would never cheat on him. It made Aki happy and that was more than worth being a little uncomfortable. Besides, dancing usually made Aki really horny and that was a definite bonus. They also got to go home together every night, even if it was just an elevator ride up to their apartment. Of course, that was when they actually made it to the elevator. Frankie turned the TV off with a sigh. He'd been watching random stuff for a good chunk of the morning and now he was bored. Damn, maybe he should have gone to the mall with Aki and Dante. It probably would have driven Frankie crazy, but at least it would have saved him from being bored. Hmm, crazy or bored... neither seemed like a very good option. Okay, that wasn't entirely fair. Frankie liked Dante, he really did. It was just that his co-worker could be a little hyper and a little too nosey for his own good. Dante and 18

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Frankie also had very different ideas when it came to shopping. Frankie was a 'get in, get what you came for and leave' kind of guy, while Dante liked to wander and felt the need to look in every store regardless of whether he was going to buy anything or not. Well, he could always call Aki and meet them for lunch. That way he could get out of the apartment for a bit, hang out with Aki and Dante, and still avoid most of the shopping. It was a good plan. Frankie glanced around the living room, trying to remember where his cell phone was. He needed to find that before he could do anything else. First, Frankie checked the bookshelf. That's where his phone should have been. It wasn't there or on the kitchen table. Maybe it was on the couch... or under it. Their couch had a nasty habit of eating things when he and Aki weren't looking. Frankie knelt down and reached between cushions and the frame. He pulled out a handful of change but no phone. Frankie found a small, half empty bottle of lube in there as well, but that he left just in case he and Aki needed it later. He stuck his hand back into the couch for another go, just in case he'd missed it on the first pass. Frankie was elbow-deep in the sofa cushions when the front door opened. "I'm home!" Aki bounced in with two reasonably sized shopping bags on his arm. He stopped and cocked his head at Frankie. "I would have been back soo— what are you doing?" "I was looking for my cell." Frankie stood and brushed the dust bunnies from his arm. "I was just going to call you and see if you and Dante wanted to meet up for lunch." 19

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"Oh, that would have been fun, but I think Dante's busy." Aki stretched and popped out his ears and tail. "He said something about a date with Kale. We could still call him, though." "That's okay, I know how Dante is when he has a 'date' with the boss man. I'd rather keep you to myself, anyway." Frankie grinned and pulled Aki toward the couch. He blinked at his lover. His tanuki was wearing make-up. Aki's warm brown eyes were lined with black and accented with a bit of red eye shadow and there was a bit more color on Aki's cheeks and lips than usual. "Are you wearing make-up?" "Yeah, Dante talked me into it." Aki ran his fingers through the thick, striped fur of his tail. "Well, him and a really determined make-up counter lady." His ears drooped a little. "I don't know if I like it or not." "It looks good on you." Frankie rubbed one of Aki's furry ears gently between his fingers. Surprisingly, the make-up didn't make Aki look overly feminine. It gave him an exotic look, like something out of Japanese myth or folklore. Oh, wait. "I don't know..." Aki's tail twitched as he sat down. "It feels like I should be a geisha or something. The lady packed it on a little thick, if you ask me." "Maybe a little." Frankie grabbed a tissue off the coffee table and wiped a bit of foundation from Aki's chin. "I think you'd make a pretty hot geisha, though." Frankie wiggled his eyebrows. "There's just something about you in a kimono that's really, really sexy." 20

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"Like this?" Aki stood and snapped his fingers. There was a puff of blue-ish smoke and once that cleared Aki stood in front of Frankie in a fancy-looking kimono. The fabric was a rich jade green and trimmed with leaves embroidered in gold thread and it was belted around Aki's waist with a silver obi that was embroidered with red and gold maple leaves. It would have been perfect if Aki hadn't been in tanuki form. "This is more courtesan than geisha but it works, right?" "Um, Aki..." Aki glanced down at his paws and sighed. "Sorry, I got so caught up in the kimono that I forgot what form I was in." He clapped his paws together and with another bit of smoke changed into his more human form. "Better?" "Oh, definitely." Frankie grinned. Aki was beyond sexy in that kimono. The collar hung low in the back, exposing the delicate curve of Aki's neck, and the obi was cinched tightly around Aki's slim waist and tied in the front, probably for easier access. Aki had said something about it being more of a courtesan look. Either way, he liked it a lot. Frankie tugged on one of the loose ends and pulled Aki closer. "You look amazing." "I'm glad you like it," Aki turned around and flashed Frankie a bit of leg. "I took the color of the kimono from your eyes and the obi from that pretty silver hair of yours. I couldn't resist." He leaned in and nipped at Frankie's chin. "Now, about those clothes..." Aki took a step back as Frankie wiggled out of his shorts and T-shirt. Once those were off, Aki tugged Frankie's boxers down, leaving him very naked. "I hope you're getting naked, 21

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too. Otherwise I'm going to feel a little silly and very underdressed." "Why would you feel silly?" Aki pulled Frankie back onto the couch and straddled his lap. "You're very sexy when you're naked and fun, too. At least, I think so." "You're just saying that so I'll pet you, aren't you?" Frankie slid his hand up Aki's thigh and gave it a squeeze. "I swear you're part cat sometimes." "No, I'm all tanuki." Aki moaned softly and smoothed his hands over Frankie's shoulders. "I just like how your hands feel." "It might be easier if you lose the kimono then." Frankie patted the silvery fabric wrapped around Aki's waist. "I can't reach my favorite spots with all this fabric in the way." Aki guided Frankie's hand toward one of the loose ends of the obi and gave him a hopeful look. "Pull here." Sure enough, the obi came loose with one tug and fell away, leaving Aki's kimono open. Aki gave one fluid shrug and the silky fabric slid from his shoulders to puddle on the floor at Frankie's feet. Aki was gorgeous naked. His skin was pale and smooth and just begged to be touched. Frankie pulled Aki closer, sliding their cocks together. Oh, he was hard, too. It was nice to know that Aki was having as much fun as Frankie was. "Frankie!" "Hmm?" "You're staring." Aki cocked his head to one side and gave Frankie a curious look. "What's up?" 22

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"I just can't get over how beautiful you are." Frankie leaned in and nuzzled Aki's lean chest. "I really need to thank Dante for getting you all made up." "I wouldn't." Aki trailed his fingers through Frankie's hair. "He might start asking questions and you know what'll happen if he finds out about that thing you have for me in a skirt." "True, but who would he tease more, me for liking it or you for wearing the outfit?" "He'd probably tease both of us. You know how he is." "It's okay, I think I like you in a kimono even more than a school girl uniform, anyway." Frankie slid one hand over Aki's side. "It fits you better." "And it's easier to get me out of, right?" Aki smiled and nuzzled Frankie's forehead. Frankie grinned back at Aki. "That, too." "Well, since I'm already naked." Aki leaned in and nipped at Frankie's bottom lip. "Can you pet me some more, please?" "Anything for my favorite tanuki." Frankie slid his hand down Aki's back and smoothed it over the short fur at the base of Aki's tail. That was a particularly sensitive spot and always got Aki going. "Mmn, you have the best hands." Aki purred and pushed his hips forward, rubbing his hard length against Frankie's. "I love the way they feel when you pet me." "I can tell." Frankie wrapped his free hand around Aki's prick and gave it a teasing stroke. "You always get so hard for me." 23

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"What can I say, you make me so hungry, love." Aki gasped and spread his hands over Frankie's shoulders. He licked his lips and gave Frankie a sultry and very needy look. "I want you, I want to taste you and feel you in me." "Oh, how can I say no to that?" Frankie reached between the sofa cushions and pulled out a small bottle of lube. "It's a good thing we lost this in the couch last time." "Yeah, definitely, a good thing." With a nod, Aki slipped off Frankie's lap and knelt between his legs. Hot, nipping kisses trailed up Frankie's thigh and over Frankie's balls making him moan. "I don't want you going anywhere." "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to." Frankie tangled his fingers in Aki's hair as that warm, wet tongue flicked against the underside of his cock. That sent a jolt straight to Frankie's brain. "Especially when you're doing that." Aki licked at Frankie again before swallowing him down. Oh, that was good. Frankie lifted his hips as Aki stroked his hard length with velvety lips. It was just the right amount of friction and the occasional nip just to keep things interesting. "You are a tasty, tasty man." Aki pressed his tongue against the slit in Frankie's cock. He smiled and pressed his lips against Frankie's stomach. "But you want something else, don't you?" Frankie smoothed the fur of one Aki's ears. It was probably a good thing, though. Frankie was damned close when Aki had stopped sucking on him and he didn't want to come just yet. "That, I do." Aki gave Frankie a mischievous little smile as he climbed back onto the couch. "I want to feel that gorgeous cock of yours." He leaned over the arm of the couch and 24

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wiggled that pert and perfectly round ass teasingly. "Of course, if you don't want to fuck me—" "I never said that." Lube still in hand, Frankie leaned closer and licked along Aki's spine. He trailed lower and nipped at the sensitive spot just above that thick, striped tail. "There's nothing better than sliding into that sweet ass of yours." "Good, then you can lube me up." Aki gave Frankie a quick and hopeful look before lifting his tail. The furry tip brushed against Frankie's chest. Now, that was sexy. "All right, you impatient thing." Frankie popped open the bottle and dripped the slick stuff over his fingers. He rubbed two of the wet digits against Aki's hole and slowly guided them in. "Mmn, Frankie." Aki moaned and pushed back against Frankie's hand. "More, please." "But you're so tight, I have to stretch you before we do anything else." Frankie slid his fingers a little deeper and wiggled them. "Besides, I thought you liked my hands." "I do." Aki wrapped his tail around Frankie's hip and gave him a hungry look. "But I like your cock even more." "Are you sure?" Frankie curled the digits buried in Aki's tight, little body, brushing them against his lover's sweet spot. "Yes!" Aki groaned and glanced back, fixing those expressive brown eyes wantonly on Frankie. "Please, Frankie, you don't really want me come like this do you?" Aki bit back another moan. "I-I will, if you're not careful." "Come on." Frankie sat back and patted his lap. "I want you to ride me." 25

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Aki turned, licking his lips. He straddled Frankie's lap and eased himself down onto Frankie's cock. "Mmm, so good." Frankie groaned and closed his eyes as Aki settled against his thighs. His cock was engulfed in tight, slick heat and it was amazing. He could feel Aki's body ripple around him each time his lover took a breath. Frankie nuzzled Aki's chest and nipped at one dusky nipple. "Naughty thing, I feel you squeezing me." "Can't help it." Aki braced his hands on Frankie's shoulders started to move. He lifted himself up and dropped back down, riding Frankie's hard length. "You're so big." Frankie had a response to that, but whatever it was flew right out of his brain. All he could focus on was fucking Aki. He slid his hands down Aki's sides and gripped those lean hips. He bucked off the couch, sending his cock nice and deep. Aki gasped and rocked back to meet Frankie's thrust. Together they found a rhythm, Frankie lifting his hips each time Aki moved. Aki closed his eyes and picked up the pace a little, moaning every time Frankie pushed into him. Aki was on the edge. Frankie could feel the tension building in those sleek muscles and see it in Aki's face. Those pretty eyes were clamped shut and soft panting breaths slipped from those velvety lips. Frankie wrapped one hand around Aki's dripping cock and stroked it. "Oh, Frankie!" Aki wrapped his arms around Frankie's neck and kissed him hard. Frankie gave Aki's cock another stroke, making the tanuki groan against Frankie's lips. 26

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Hot come squirted between Frankie's fingers as Aki came. It was intense, Frankie could feel it. Aki's whole body tensed and rippled around his cock. Frankie groaned and slid his cock deep. He was going to come, too. How could he not with Aki milking him like that? With one last thrust, Frankie filled Aki's ass with heat. Frankie shifted against the arm of the couch and ran his hand down Aki's back. They were both still catching their breath but Frankie needed to move a little just so his leg wouldn't fall asleep. He hated when that happened. "Wow..." "No kidding." Aki kissed Frankie's chin. "Maybe I should wear make-up more often." "Now, there's a thought." Frankie smiled at his pretty lover. "Can you wear the kimono, too?" "Of course, it all kind of goes together, doesn't it?" "I think so." Aki grinned and tapped Frankie on the nose. "You have the best kinks, love." "At least, they're kinks that you can live with, right?" Frankie caught Aki's hand in his own and kissed his lover's fingers. "I could be into animals or something." "Well, you do like my tail and ears." Aki traced a finger against Frankie's chest. "That's kind of an animal thing, isn't it?" "I like the ears and tail, but I don't think I could deal with any more furry bits on you." Frankie rubbed the edge of one of Aki's ears. "It would be a little too weird." "That's okay, I don't think I could do it either. I like my lovers human or at least human-looking. Well, they have to 27

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be handsome, too." Aki smiled and nuzzled Frankie's cheek. "We tanuki are very picky, you know." "I'm flattered, I think." "Frankie, you know that you're more than just a pretty face to me. You're sweet and thoughtful and you accept me even with the extra bits." "Why wouldn't I?" Frankie hugged his lover tightly. "Your ears and tail are all part of who you are. It wouldn't be right if I made you hide them all the time." "Still, it makes you special." Aki curled against Frankie's chest, purring contentedly. "And I love you for that and for everything between us." "I love you, too." Frankie smoothed Aki's hair and smiled at his lover. There was nothing better than an armful of snuggly and very sated tanuki. Okay, it was a toss-up between that and naked, horny Aki. That was pretty awesome, too. "So what do want to do with the rest of our day off?" "Hmm, we could get food." Aki glanced up at Frankie, his ears twitching thoughtfully. "Well, we should shower first and then get some lunch, or would it be dinner at this point?" "Either way, food does sound pretty good." Frankie nodded and pushed himself up. "I'm starving." "It's a plan, then." Aki slipped off of Frankie's lap. "Shower, food," He bounced toward the bathroom with Frankie in tow. "Oh, and if we have time we can go down to the international district and maybe the mall." "Sure, what did you need there?" Frankie turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. 28

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"I need a kimono, a real one." Aki purred as he pulled Frankie into the steamy spray. "Making it up on my own just takes too much energy." "Okay, that makes sense." Frankie ran his hands over Aki's slim form. "What about the mall, though? Weren't you just there with Dante?" "I was, but I want to get some make-up. I would have picked it up earlier if I'd known that you'd like it so much." Aki gasped. Frankie slid one hand lower and stroked that sensitive bit of skin just above Aki's tail. "Of course, if you keep doing that, we may never leave the apartment." "Is that a bad thing?" Frankie leaned down and lapped at the water beading on Aki's chest. "No, but we do need food, at some point." Aki moaned and lifted his hips, sliding his cock against Frankie's thigh. "And make-up. Definitely, need to get some of that, too." "Whatever you want, love." Frankie smiled and licked his way down Aki's chest. They could go to the mall later, which would cover food and Aki's make-up. Frankie just wanted to keep Aki to himself for a little while longer. [Back to Table of Contents]

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War Paint By Syd McGinley Nestor fiddled with his rearview mirror so he could see his eyes. His faculty parking pass bounced against his rainbow air freshener. Steven had removed the vanity mirrors from the visors after Nestor had checked his eyeliner one time too many, but his Sir could hardly remove the rearview mirror even if he had banned eyeliner. Nestor batted his lashes. It wasn't guyliner. It was far more subtle. Invisible really. But his eyes had a seductive, smoky come-to-bed look. He was sure Steven wouldn't detect the forbidden enhancement. And if he were lucky, he could get Steven so impatient for a fuck that his man wouldn't torment him as he had done for several Fridays running. He yelped. Someone had thumped on his hood. Don't let it be that foul frat boy from his Freshman Greek and Roman Culture class, prayed Nestor as he focused. "Shit!" He lifted his hand and faked a cheerful wave back at Dr. Pol Ronne from the Soc-Anth department. That man was so jovial! Well, that wasn't what was annoying about him. What gave Nestor screaming ninny fits around Dr. Ronne was that he and Steven were members of the same leather chapter. Liberal Arts meetings were horrid enough without having one of your Sir's friends giving you a look when you voiced an opinion. Steven had guffawed about that, and lectured Nestor about professional separation of roles, and 30

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finally reassured him that Pol would never break confidences in any direction. Nestor puffed air up at his bangs in memory of that and re-evaluated how his eyebrows looked—he'd had them professionally shaped earlier in the week. Steven didn't get his point about Pol—how was Nestor meant to make a case for more funding for Greek classes when Sirs were watching him? Especially when, and here he gulped hard, the Modern Languages faculty were eyeballing the Classics department's meager office space. Katashi Tanaka was always devastatingly courteous to Nestor, but he was an utter demon in inter-departmental negotiations. If Nestor didn't stand his ground, the Greek and Latin language teachers would have only one office to share, and the barbarians would win. "Speak of the devil," growled Nestor as a gleaming Lexus cruised out of the parking lot. He gave a feeble wave to Dr. Tanaka's boy, Tommy, who was in the passenger seat. Perhaps he should cozy up to Tommy and Rinnie, Dr. Ronne's boy? Or not, he sighed. They were both subs and faculty partners, but they were also both students. Nestor was muddled enough about his standing without forming friendships with students, although Tommy had been a delight to have in the survey course last year. He'd laughed at all the right places, and really appreciated the Priapus epigrams. Nestor shoved the mirror back into position, and started the engine. It was Friday, his grading was done since it was only the first week of the semester, and Steven had been in a horny mood this morning. Nestor's Jetta was almost the last 31

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car in the Liberal Arts faculty lot. He zipped out of the campus, and made it home before Steven. His Sir was a big blond bear. He looked scruffy and as if he did something constructiony. Nestor loved that about him, and had high hopes that there could be a work boots and tool belt scene in their future. Steven was actually a pediatric nurse and spent his days at the Children's Hospital, soothing little patients through appendectomies and ear tube insertions. Steven was good-natured at work so long as his one rule—No being Santa, ever! Don't even ask!—wasn't broken, and the doctors didn't come on too high-handed on his ward. Apparently little boys and little girls alike thought he was cuddly. Steven's partner in crime, Nurse Jasmine, told Nestor that Steven could get any child through a dark scary night in a strange place with a comforting story, and was in his element guiding a child calmly into an anesthetized state. No one panicked when Nurse Steven was holding their hand. Nestor huffed as he hurried through some dinner prep. Yes, indeed his Sir was a master storyteller, a fine guide in an at-your-limits situation, and a seriously cuddly man. But! Nestor dumped some olives into a monkey dish. But those very same qualities were utter torment when Steven tied him down and withheld his orgasm. He measured some ice into a cocktail shaker. Steven needed an adult drink as soon as he got home. Being met by his boy and a perfect martini turned him right into Sir Steven—even though he was usually still in his SpongeBob scrubs with Toy Story Band-Aids stashed in his pockets. Nestor set out some taramosalata and crusty bread. Steven 32

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was often hungrier after his shift than mere olive snacking would appease. Nestor peered into his reflection in the kitchen window, and fluffed his hair. It looked dangerously close to an emo flop after his hard day teaching a huge Gen Ed class filled with already uninterested freshers, wrangling with the upperlevel Greek seminar, discovering he was on the Liberal Arts budget committee with both Tanaka and Ronne, and being told his favorite textbook was out of print. Steven's battered black Jeep lurched into the driveway. Nestor was sure his man kept the suspension set at 'dramatic entrance' instead of at 'city driving.' Nestor gave the martini a shake, strained it into a glass, and strolled to the door. "Hi, honey," he chirped. "Good day at the office?" Steven snorted, and took his drink. "Less of your sass, boy." Nestor lifted his cheek for a welcome home peck. His Sir briskly rubbed his beard against his boy's face and mumbled something about June Cleaver. "Ooh, exfoliated by a bear!" Nestor slid his hands under the drawstring of Steven's scrubs, and tangled his fingers into the riot of hair. His man rumbled. "Boy, let me have my drink and a snack. I've plans for your ass and they don't include a quickie in the entryway." Nestor pouted. It sounded ominously as if Steven were planning one of his torment sessions. Steven headed in and flopped on the couch. 33

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"God, Nes, today was rough. Jasmine was covering for someone in oncology for a half shift, and she was a wreck when she came back down. Neither of us is ready for the dying kids." "Who is?" said Nestor, and passed the olive dish. He didn't mean to be callous, but letting Steven get stressed was a bad path. He slid down to his knees, eased off Steven's clogs, and massaged his man's feet. Steven groaned after a bit, and wriggled his toes. "Thanks, boy. Stop now, or I'll get distracted. I have a new bedtime story for you." "Aw no!" wailed Nestor. "Sir! You're so mean, and I've been good." Steven snorted. "Who says those have any correlation? And, Nestor, I don't think you have been good." Steven sat up straight and caught his boy's chin in his paw. He tilted Nestor's face into the light. Nestor bit his lip, and lowered his gaze. He knew this angle gave him killer cheekbones, but he suspected he was busted on the eyeliner. "Open your eyes, punkin, I can't see the effect otherwise, now can I?" Nestor let the full force of his soulful brown eyes loose on his man. Alas, Steven just laughed. "Aw, now, Nes, that's mighty cute, but we've had this conversation before. I don't care if you get yourself groomed, but no make-up." "Eyeliner!" protested Nestor. "Hardly make-up. And loads of guys wear it. Even straight ones." 34

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"Maybe so, but my boy doesn't. You're not some emo punky guyliner kid. You're a college professor." "Who likes to accentuate his eyes," said Nestor. "Come on Steven, no one can see it unless they're as close as you. I don't have drag queen emerald eyeshadow on." "If no one can see it, then what's the point? No make-up. And stop arguing before I get grumpy." Nestor foolishly fluttered his lashes. Steven shook his head. "No, Nestor. It does look nice, I'll grant you that, and it's subtle, but I don't want my boy in make-up." Nestor took a deep breath and launched into his canned lecture about Men and Cosmetics in the Ancient World that he used in his survey course. "Yowp!" He crossed his arms across his chest to protect his nipples from further assault. "That hurt!" "Good. Don't provoke me, boy. We are having one of my story sessions, and you are not wearing make-up. Now pass me that bread and fish spread." Nestor rolled his eyes. "Taramosalata." "Yeah, yeah. Best behavior for the evening, boy, or I'll scrub that shit off your face." Nestor trod lightly all evening. He knew his man wasn't deeply angered, but it behooved him not to instigate anything. Dinner was low key, and they shared their days' events like a nice suburban couple. Nestor spilled the alarming news that he was on a committee with two Sirs, and was worried he'd screw up either with them or by letting his department down. 35

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"Nes, baby, you got tenure last year. What can the University do to you? And you're not a boy at work. You know that." Nestor slumped, and fiddled with his napkin. "I know. But they are intimidating anyway! Pol teases me, and 'Tashi is polite! And it will be awful if Modern Languages gets our space and if I can't get another higher level class funded. We are clinging on to our major as it is." Steven tore into another dinner roll, and chewed thoughtfully. "Nes, you do know they both have the greatest respect for Classics? Despite you calling Katashi by that silly nickname." Nestor squirmed. "Really? "I think they'll be allies, punkin. Katashi has had experience fighting within Modern Languages to give Japanese enough space on the curriculum, and Pol told me he might be Soc-Anth Chair next year. And you know they're used to being the red-haired stepchild." Nestor poked at his tagliatelle and portobellos. His work woes and the knowledge of his coming bedtime torment had shut down his appetite. "I guess." "We can ask them to dinner if you like." "No!" wailed Nestor. "Gods and little rabbits, Steven! I'd die." "A non-scene one," reassured Steven, "but one where we can relax about who we are. You can hang with Tommy and Rinnie." Nestor shook his head. "Too stressful." "How about just a beer after work?" 36

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Nestor giggled. The idea of Katashi Tanaka drinking beer in a bar was surreal. He shook his head frantically when Steven picked up his phone and called his friends to arrange a casual evening. Nestor did the dishes to stop himself from eavesdropping or blurting out something stupid in the background. "All set," said Steven cheerfully. "Pol's invited us over to his place tomorrow. He and Rinnie are squeezing in one last cookout before the weather turns." Nestor moaned, and scrubbed his serving spoon hard. "Baby," crooned Steven. "It'll be fine." He stood behind Nestor at the sink and wrapped his arms around his boy's slim hips. Nestor squirmed back against him, sloshed some suds, and felt safe enough to ponder the consequences of getting foam in his Sir's beard. "Let's go to bed early," murmured Steven through his beard and into Nestor's ear. "I have a story for you." Nestor whimpered. "Please don't torment me too much, Sir. I nearly passed out last time." Steven beamed. "That's just because I had the wrong side win the Peloponnesian War." "I know! It was really painful." "I was sure Athens won," said Steven cheerfully as he took his boy by his still soapy wrist and led him upstairs. "Don't worry, baby. This one is also set in the Peloponnesian War, and I've done some reading to refresh my memory." "Oh no," moaned Nestor, well aware that just meant Steven had more anachronisms and made-up events to make 37

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him suffer through. If only he could turn off the nit-picky part of his brain and laugh at the stories. Steven simply folded his arms and waited while Nestor stripped. "Use the bathroom, baby, and bring me back all your eyeliners." Nestor scowled, but obeyed. When he returned, Steven had already laid out his ropes, and pulled up his favorite storytelling chair. He thanked Nestor when the stash of eyeliner pencils traded hands. "Lie down. You know the position." Steven began looping and securing the ropes around his boy's wrists and ankles. He tested the bonds with a few tugs, then sat down in his chair, and gave Nestor a wicked grin. "Are you lying comfortably?" He waited until Nestor nodded. "Then I'll begin. Once upon a time in Greece, there was a terrible war going on! The Pelops were mad with the Delians for stealing their..." Nestor whimpered. Steven was mangling everything already. "And then," persisted his Sir, "the Arachnids or was it the Macadamias..." "The Archidamian War!" wailed Nestor. "Right! Any-hoo, it doesn't matter, it's just the backdrop for my story about the blockade runners bringing luxuries to Athens." "Hmmph," said Nestor, finding nothing to object to in that. Athens had been blockaded by the Spartans during the war, and trade goods were certainly smuggled. 38

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Steven scooted his chair closer. "So Captain Dilios—" "That's from 300!" "Quiet, boy. Very well—how about Admiral Lysander?" "He was a General," muttered Nestor. "But okay. You do know he was a Spartan, right? OW!" Steven had swatted him hard with a loose end of rope. "Lysander's Spartan fleet," he said, "had been stopping anyone getting in and out of Athens by sea. There was much distress. According to my sources, the men were away at war and the women's usual imported dildos from Miletius were no longer possible." "Oh shit," whimpered Nestor, "You found my copy of Lysistrata." "Such shocking events! I can't believe you teach that smut for college credit." "Me either," said Nestor. "I love my job!" "As always," continued Steven, "war means profit and opportunity for some. Knowing that the horny women would be grateful and ready to pay, the bold buccaneer, Olisbos, put together a small crew to bring dildos, chocolate, and lingerie to the women. A boat small enough to sneak through the blockade could still carry enough luxuries for a profitable cargo. All they had to do was evade Lysander's triremes under cover of dark, and they'd be rich, popular, and getting laid. Lysander had declared a death penalty for grain smugglers, but no one had placed a penalty on bringing pleasure to the Athenians!" Nestor tried very hard not to let his distress show. He did not say buccaneer was a modern word or that chocolate was 39

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a New World treat, but why did there have to be women and dildos in his bedtime story? It wasn't that he disliked women, but he really didn't find thinking about contraband dildos in connection with them at all arousing. And Steven had to know that Olisbos meant dildo. It couldn't be a coincidence. Nestor wracked his brain trying to remember if he'd left his research lying around again. "Gods," he moaned, as he recalled leaving out his ancient sexuality anthology, "how could I have been so foolish?" Steven ran a finger along his boy's ribs. "To wear eyeliner?" "That, too," mumbled Nestor, since he was clearly meant to be contrite. "But I meant leaving the textbook out." "My Psych for Nurses class said Freud claimed there are no accidents, so you wanted me to see it." "I hate Freud," said Nestor. "I'm not even gonna be intellectual about it. I just hate him. Hi-jacking Oedipus like that..." "Oh, hush, I've heard that spiel before, and, you, boy, are the one on display right now. Are you going to be quiet and let me tell you the story?" "Yes," Nestor said, sullenly. "So Olisbos had his little cargo vessel filled with finery, treats, and dildos, and he asked his old shipmates, Philopais and Baubon, to join him in the venture, and to keep them company on the voyage, he hired a cabin boy." Nestor bit his lip at the names, but he couldn't let the boy pass. "They didn't have cabin boys!" 40

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"Of course they did. Now this boy was lovely. Smoothcheeked above and below." Steven caressed Nestor's face, and then slapped the side of his ass. "The cabin boy, Kinaidos Mollis, was a peach! No one suspected that his sultry eyes were assisted by the best Egyptian eye-black or that his lips were tinted with mulberry juice. His body was sleek and limber, and he was known to take the woman's part with unbecoming delight." Nestor squirmed. Steven's torment was working already. He had already escalated to mixing Greek and Latin in one name, and he knew that flustered Nestor—perhaps even more than Steven's careful choice of effeminate terms for the boy's name. "Although he was habituated to artifice, the boy was truly lovely, and the three sailors looked forward to plowing him as they sailed the Aegean. It was even rumored that he was so unmanly and lost to shame that he would take a man's member in his mouth and gloss his lovely lips with more than sea spray." Nestor licked his lips, and looked hopefully at his Sir's crotch. Thank the gods Steven had changed from his SpongeBob scrubs before dinner. Having a chorus about pineapples under the sea wouldn't help this story at all. Nothing would, really. Steven ran a hand over his boy's taut belly, and laughed as Nestor's cock leapt. "Oh, you don't come until the story is done. And that may not be until I have re-enacted some nautical action on your ass. Or in it." "Yes, please, oh, Sir, please... fuck me?" 41

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"Why, you're hornier than an Athenian soldier's wife," teased Steven. "Or perhaps as slutty as Kinaidos Mollis." The bedposts shook as Nestor tugged at his bonds. "No use fighting, you can't escape any more than the Athenians blockaded by Lysander could. So, they followed the coastline in their little boat, sailing when they could, rowing when they must, and stopping ashore at night to cook and sleep on the sand. Kinaidos Mollis complained about the sand when Philopais lived up to his name and fucked the boy's ass, but that same sand polished his rump to a lovely sheen. The boy must not have minded about the fucking, as he regularly pointed his rear at Baubon and Olisbos and called to them to earn their names too and stop him from raiding the inventory of leather phalli. Their cocks barely rested at night. By day, Olisbos had the pretty boy assist them as they took turns rowing by offering his mouth to match their strokes." Nestor craned his neck to see what his man's cock looked like right now. He was sitting just far enough away for his crotch to be out of Nestor's restricted vision. Surely Steven was as horny as he was? He parted his lips a little to tempt his Sir. "Slut," said Steven cheerfully. "You wait until I'm ready to fill your holes, boy." He rolled the little bundle of eyeliners around in his palms and the pencils clattered and clicked. "Hmm, Smoke on the Water, Damson Dream—really?— Obsidian Obsession, Midnight Fire, ah-ha! Aegean Ashes." He set them down on the dresser, and selected just one. Nestor's favorite blue-gray. Of course. Nestor whimpered a little as Steven popped the cap off. At best, he was sure his favorite 42

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pencil was going to be put out of commission. At worst... he shuddered. "Imagination tormenting you?" asked his Sir, twirling the pencil. "Uh-huh," said Nestor as his cock twitched. Steven smiled, and Nestor swore. "So my boy likes to be enhanced?" said Steve, rhetorically, and then continued his story. "As they drew closer to Athens, they began to travel by night to avoid the ships patrolling the sea lanes. Kinaidos Mollis kept their spirits and cocks high as they passed Laureum and rounded the headland. They were only forty miles from their goal!" Nestor held very still. For a start, his man had the distance right, and Nestor was oddly touched at how much effort Steven had put into this—right down to the "errors," but Nestor mostly stayed still because the Aegean Ashes were trailing down his belly and marking the route of the boat. "Attack at the naval base," whispered Steven in an old favorite joke as he circled Nestor's navel in dusky blue. "Well, the men sailed on the wine-dark sea until the rosy-fingered dawn..." Nestor whimpered. "You had to get them in, didn't you? The two phrases everyone knows of Homer." "Hush! The rosy fingers of dawn showed them their doom! A trireme just ahead! And they'd been seen! No matter how hard their little boat tacked into the wind, they couldn't escape from the warship." Steven trailed the line of gray down to his boy's crisp curls. "They heard the chants from the oarsmen, and delicate Kinaidos Mollis cried in alarm as they 43

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became sure it was a Spartan vessel. He blurted out the rumor he had heard that the Spartans had killed all they met at sea during this war whether they were merchants or Athenians." "Now he tells them," snorted Nestor. "Just what Olisbos said, too," said Steven, nudging his boy's quivering cock aside with the pencil. "I assume this eye paint is waterproof?" "Yes," said Nestor, dolefully. "Good. Philopais and Baubon disagreed. Surely the boyloving Spartans wouldn't squander a sweet thing like Kinaidos Mollis. When they saw how he could suck a cock and take a prick, they were sure to listen to his pleas and spare his friends." Nestor rolled his eyes, but kept listening. "Alas, the three sailors were so stricken with fear that they couldn't rise to the occasion to show off their cabin boy. 'Break out the wares!' demanded Kinaidos Mollis, who had decided that the plan would certainly save him even if his ardent begging didn't save his companions. Olisbos and Baubon seized the two finest and largest dildos they had. While Philopais handled the rudder, Baubon popped a stiff leather phallus into Kinaidos Mollis' pretty mouth, and Olisbos worked the finest carved dildo into the rosy little hole they had all enjoyed." Nestor squawked. Steven had picked up his Obsidian Obsession pencil and slid it an inch into his ass. "Undignified, eh?" said Steven. 44

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Nestor bucked his hips. The narrow girth and shallow penetration was tantalizing and ticklish. He was saved from saying something foolish by his Sir placing his Smoke on the Water pencil between Nestor's lips and across his tongue. "Let it drop, and you certainly will not come." Nestor growled. His Sir was good at cruel gags. "The three men displayed their sweet thing so the approaching Spartans could see him. The ship was picking up speed, and Kinaidos Mollis could see the mighty ram parting the waves ahead of the prow." Steven paused and jacked himself for a few strokes, and stood to show his own ram to his captive boy. "The painted eyes on the prow loomed larger, and Kinaidos Mollis frantically fellated the false cock in his mouth and worked his hips as Olisbos fucked him with the dildo." Steven stroked the slick head of his cock against Nestor's belly, and then stepped back again. He leaned forward and seized Nestor's bouncing, drooling prick. With one fast flick, he licked the head clean and dry, and before Nestor moistened again, Steven drew an eye on his boy's cock head. His slit formed the iris, and Steven filled in the pupil with Aegean Ashes. The firm touch of the eyeliner was almost unbearable. "The all-seeing eye that guides them home," said Steven softly, and let go of his boy's cock. It thwacked back against his belly, and Nestor moaned. "The oarsmen stopped! But, of course, the ship kept moving. Olisbos and Baubon rowed as hard as they could to move their boat. Philopais had given a yell of despair and jumped overboard. They were going to be 45

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rammed, and he was never able to take what he so often handed out. The coast was in sight—he would swim for it. Kinaidos Mollis made eye contact with a Spartan and pinched his own nipples so his pretty prick waved." Steven tweaked Nestor's nipples hard, lifted Nestor's cock for a second with the pencil, and then dropped it. "The Spartan bellowed, and the oars all dug into the water and hauled back. The two vessels missed by inches and the little boat rocked violently in the water. An oar caught Baubon on the rump, and he sprawled flat. Olisbos grabbed Kinaidos Mollis just before he toppled into the water. The miserable three were hauled aboard and brought before the captain— the very man Kinaidos Mollis had picked out." Steven stroked his boy's prick for a few moments, and then returned to working his own shaft. "The Spartan captain looked at them, and then gave the order for Baubon and Olisbos to be thrown over the side. 'Kinaidos Mollis will suck your balls dry!' cried Olisbos. 'And take every inch of your cock!' insisted Baubon. 'Just let us live!' they chorused. Kinaidos Mollis fluttered his eyelashes at the captain, and licked his lips. The leather phallus had flown from his mouth during the capture, but his sweet ass was still full of dildo. 'But why,' asked the captain, 'should I keep you two? I see the boy is already warmed up for me.' Kinaidos Mollis circled his hips, and smiled. He was rather bored with Baubon and Olisbos. If they survived, he'd be pleased enough, and if they went overboard, he wouldn't mourn. He was a cold-hearted, painted boy." "Hey!" sputtered Nestor around his gag. 46

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"What?" asked Steven, and slowly drew an eye of Horus around his boy's nipple. Nestor could feel the outrage of being accused of being an ice-prince wrestle with the torment of Steven deliberately mixing cultures. Nestor shut his eyes and reminded himself that the Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians did cross-pollinate. "The Spartan stood in front of Kinaidos Mollis and said, 'I can have this boy whether you offer him or not. I can see he is eager for seed. Tell me why I should keep these two, boy?' Kinaidos Mollis, since he was a slut, simply opened his mouth and waited for some fine Spartan cock. 'O! Kinaidos Mollis!' cried Baubon and Olisbos, 'save us!' Kinaidos Mollis licked his lips, and whispered, 'O! Captain, my Captain! I can swallow your sword to the hilt!' Needing no encouragement, the Spartan placed his fine swollen-headed prick between Kinaidos Mollis' lips, and allowed the little cocksucker to show his talents." Steven knelt astride Nestor on the bed, and rested his balls on his boy's belly while he worked his own prick. Nestor's own cock strained into the air, seeking some contact. He hated his Sir at that moment. "Olisbos became frantic, and called, 'Kinaidos Mollis, I will reward you with a new sample of my wares each week,' and not to be outdone, Baubon added, 'and I will provide the finest cosmetics from Egypt for life!' The Spartan chuckled, 'ah, your Pupulus has found a new master it seems.' Kinaidos Mollis grabbed the Spartan's thighs, and proved that he could swallow! He worked his pretty rump up and down, and every 47

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oarsman cried aloud as the dildo waggled at them. How they wished their cocks were there!" Steven shifted forward and removed the pencil from Nestor's mouth. Nestor's even teeth had left marks. Before Nestor could make any protests about his Sir's abuses of history or Whitman, his mouth was full of prime meat, and he settled in to worship. "Captain Meriones, for that was his name, felt the ocean surge in his balls as the expert ministrations of the kneeling boy became more intense. The pressure built, and at the last moment he pulled free of the boy and sprayed his face. 'This is sperm-ah!' he cried to the skies, and Kinaidos Mollis gazed adoringly at him. The boy's cheeks, glazed with come, glowed, and his lips looked coated with honey. The oarsmen sighed as they watched the boy lick his syrupy lips. Baubon and Olisbos moaned, sensing that their one advantage was drying up along with the Captain's come in the breeze." Steven pushed deeper into Nestor's mouth and fucked at him for a few strokes. Nestor coughed and felt some tears spill from his eyes. He was glad he had on his waterproof eyeliner—he hated to look raccoony. At least his Sir's deepthroating could excuse the tears of pain-mirth his last joke had provoked. "Kinaidos Mollis waved his pretty little cock in the air, and lifted his ass appealingly. 'Well,' said Meriones laconically, 'the pup is still eager.' He stroked the boy's hair, then reached around and worked the dildo expertly until Kinaidos Mollis' own honey flew into the air and spattered down to the 48

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oarsmen. 'Ah-ooh!' they bellowed in unison, as if preparing for battle." Steven knelt back on his heels and waved his slick, red cock at Nestor. "Want to get fucked?" "Yes, please!" "So polite! Stay still while I untie your ankles." Nestor obeyed even though he wanted to squirm the pencil from his ass. He was rewarded when Steven replaced the pencil with his finger, but tormented when Steven idly fingerfucked him as he continued his story. Nestor's cock poked forlornly into the air and jiggled with each thrust, and the eye drawn around his slit winked at him. "Captain Meriones admired the dildo that had driven such an experienced ass so wild. Kinaidos Mollis smiled sweetly, and said, 'it is from my companions' cargo. They are bringing pricks to the Athenians.' The Spartans bellowed with laughter, and the air was filled with jokes about how Athenian men need to import cocks to please their women. And how insatiable Athenian women were known to be that 'no wonder their men prefer to go to war!' guffawed an oarsman." Steven fondled Nestor's balls, and then removed his finger. "Captain Meriones ordered the cargo to be pulled on board, and inspected. 'These cocks are too fine for Athenians! Men— a spare phallus for all! Kinaidos Mollis—make yourself useful and distribute them.' Kinaidos Mollis stood over the rows of seats and tossed fine leather cocks to the men and yelled, 'you get a cock! And you get a cock!' The oarsmen shouted and applauded and caught the flying penises. Then Kinaidos Mollis scampered through the farther rows passing out the 49

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hard carved pricks. In peril of their lives, Baubon and Olisbos still groaned to see their cargo given away—even though they were pleased to see how appreciative the Spartans were of the workmanship!" Nestor groaned too, but then sighed in relief as Steven knelt between his knees and suddenly yanked his boy's feet up and onto Steven's shoulders. "Deep fuck," hissed Steven as his cock nudged Nestor's hole and then slid in. "Gods!" wailed Nestor, and bucked. Steven panted for a moment, and then lay still, deep inside his boy. "So Baubon and Olisbos..." "No," wailed Nestor. "Oh! Sir, please fuck me!" Steven laughed and his prick quivered inside his boy's belly. "Captain Meriones was a merciful man with a sense of humor. He dressed the two men in the lingerie from their cargo, had them place some of their own dildos in their asses, and set them to work as oarsmen. The cries of 'stroke, stroke' were never more enthusiastic as the trireme got underway." Nestor pumped his ass in defiance of his Sir's motionlessness, and locked his ankles behind Steven's neck. He rode his man from underneath, and in no time his Sir had surrendered to the motion. They were storm-tossed men as they moved in unison. "Please, please," crooned Nestor like the surf. "My boy, my pretty boy," gasped Steven as he leaned forward to taste his boy's sweet lips. The kiss was brief as they rocked and stretched, but Steven still took the weight from one arm to smear his thumb across Nestor's still damp 50

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eyelashes. "Sultry one..." he groaned, and then roared as he hammered one last time into his boy. Nestor clenched and bucked around his shuddering man to get his own release. His mind and body swirled together as his ecstasy took hold, and he clutched his man's sweaty, furry body to him. One day he'd figure out a revenge story about satyrs and horny goats, but right now... He wriggled his ankles free and eased his hips down. He was ready to sleep, but his hands were still bound. "Steven? Wrists?" Steven propped himself up on his elbows, and smiled. His eyes were drowsy-looking, but he gave a lazy, wicked smile. "So Captain Meriones shared all the chocolate with Kinaidos Mollis as they sailed to their next destination—the Battle of Salamis where they were to judge which prepared meat was tastiest and mightiest." "Argh," groaned Nestor. "Sir! One, it's said Sall-a-miss, not sal-ah-mez, two, salami is already plural, and, O.M.G! Three, the Battle of Salamis was the Persian Wars! Ow, ow, you cause me so much pain!" Steven chuckled proudly as he untied Nestor. "Goodnight, boy, sleep well." Nestor snuggled against his blond bear and fell right asleep. The next day, he was sore and stiff, and more than a little anxious about even a casual get-together with Drs. Tanaka and Ronne. He'd shaved even though it was Saturday, and 51

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now tried to get his hair to obey him. Steven stood behind him, combing his beard. "Aw, Sir, I look like shit. You wore me out last night." "You do look pale, Nes, but Katashi and Pol won't mess with you. They like you. And I bet they don't want Classics to go under either. Why don't you see if Anthropology and Classics could co-teach a mythology class? And I bet Katashi would love to teach a unit of it for you, too." "Today—oh, it'll be fine. It's just so hard to deal with them at work," admitted Nestor. "I feel so nervous. But, yeah, that class is a good idea." He smiled wanly at his man, sighed, and looked to the drawer where he usually stashed his contraband eyeliner. "The make-up is my war paint. I need it if I'm going to defend my territory." Steven frowned. "You really feel better with it on? Even if the frat boys hassle you?" "My chair ignores all those comments on the student evaluations," said Nestor. "She told me so. And, yes, I feel better with it even though it's almost invisible. Gods, Steven, it's not as if I go to work in eyeshadow and lipstick. And even if I did..." Steven gave a half-hearted swipe at his hair with the comb, and left it in its usual Saturday haystack style. "I know. Shit, I'd support you whatever you did, Nes. I just don't get it." He sighed. "I do like that smoky gray one on you, boy. It's cute. I'm just trying to protect you." "The frat boys call me 'fag' anyway," said Nestor glumly, "So I may as well be me, right?" 52

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Steven kissed the top of his boy's head. "Very well, then. Eyeliner only. Just don't switch to woad for your war paint." "O.M.G!" said Nestor. "That is totally the wrong culture, Sir." **** A postscript from Nestor: Dear Reader, In addition to his own version of Classical history, my Sir took some terrible liberties with names in this story, and I want to set the record straight—so to speak. Love, Nestor aka Kinaidos Mollis Greek Names used in Steven's story Pupulus boy pet Philopais loving boys; a preference for anal sex Baubon dildo Meriones thighs Olisbos dildo Kinaidos submissive, effeminate male; a man who receives anal sex The Latin name Steven mixed with Greek Mollis effeminate or gentle male [Back to Table of Contents]

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Contributors Bios Sue Brown Sue Brown is owned by her dog and two children. When she isn't following their orders, she can be found at university listening to lecturers discuss long-dead theologians. In her head, however, she's plotting how to get her cowboys into bed together; she just hopes the lecturer doesn't ask her any questions. Sue discovered M/M erotica at the time she woke up to find two men kissing on her favorite television series. The series was boring; the kissing was not. She may be late to the party, but she's made up for it since, writing fan fiction until she was brave enough to venture out into the world of original fiction. Misa Izanaki Originally from Hawaii, Misa has been writing since she was twelve. She has a fondness for cats, squirrels, and anime. Most of her stories come from her muses, the constantly evolving group of pretty anime-style men who live in her head, and she is constantly poking at them for new ideas. When she's not writing, Misa can be found painting war game miniatures or trying in vain to catch up with her backlog of comics and books. Syd McGinley Syd McGinley writes the Dr. Fell series and other gay fiction. Syd is a Sexuality Studies program advisor and English lecturer who fled Thatcher's England in the late 54

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1980's, and has lived in the American Midwest since then. Frying pan and fire comes to mind. Visit Syd at www.sydmcginley.com and Dr. Fell at www.inlocodomin.com.

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