Welcome to Wednesday Briefs, where authors post free fiction of 1000 words or less each week.
I’m continuing the story of Willem and Torrey, who are struggling to keep their love on an alien world. This week the prompts were: “my kingdom for a horse” or “open wide for chunky” or “Singing in the rain” or “Damn me, but that's awfully large!” or use something stolen or have a miracle in your story or have a character who feels like he/she’s getting ill or use: a condom, a wing, and a prayer.
Sealed in Stone #14
“Kiss him,” Cyrrhi said to Nak. Nak looked Eshuuni—slight, dark-haired, and graceful, with skin that looked like he toasted every day in the sun.
Torrey sat at the nomari Queen’s side, enduring the slide of her hand along his leg. If touching his body gave her pleasure that too was part of his service. He was thankful she had only just delivered her brood and at least two more greater moons would pass before she would enter another estrus. Until then, her demands on him were unlikely to be sexual.
Not so for her slaves. Even Cyrrhi’s casual appetites were voraciously sensual.
Nak wound his hand into Hari’s bright hair and he leaned toward the unresisting, taller man. Nak’s delicate lips, tinted with carmine, found Hari’s strong shapely ones, passing over them, teasing, until the other youth’s opened with acceptance. Water lapped at their twining bodies as their tongues probed and explored. Torrey watched because Cyrrhi wished it of him. Because he had never watched two men be together before. He watched because the young men were beautiful and sleek, their limbs moving eagerly to Cyrrhi’s commands.
“…take his wrist, Nak—yes, that one—and hold it behind his neck. Kiss his neck…”
Torrey could almost feel Nak’s lips upon his own neck and hoped his lips were not open the way Hari’s were, begging and smiling, eyes slitted with pleasure. Torrey knew what that felt like. Willem kissed him just like that. He drew a ragged breath as he felt his cock thicken. He wasn’t hard, not yet, but the thought reduced him to panic.
“Now, Nak, attend my slave’s chest. The right ring first.”
Nak’s slender fingers drifted down Hari’s wet skin to the broad muscles of his chest, found the gold ring in his right nipple. Torrey flinched at the tight tingle in his own. He hadn’t noticed before, when the slave had been with him, naked, in the pool, that Hari’s nipples were pierced. Or how pretty they were, erect and rosy, pierced with gold. Nak’s tongue slipped between parted lips to flick at the swollen peak, eliciting a moan. Torrey’s excitement rose, but he forced himself to not betray it, though Cyrrhi’s fingers stroked his thigh very near the proof. She bent her head near his.
“Which one is more beautiful?” Her low voice vibrated with deep, pleased tones.
“Hari.” When his Queen asked his opinion, he did not hesitate to speak the truth.
“Tell me why.”
Though he knew the game was dangerous, he could not refuse to answer. “Nak is pretty and small and gives beautiful light, like a candle—but Hari is stronger, taller, and he shines as brightly as spear.” He turned so his gaze met hers. “Queens prefer spears.”
“As do some males of the ri’im.” Something warm within her eyes told him the answer had amused her. The nomari did not smile, or laugh.
In the pool, Hari was panting with arousal, his cheeks flushed and his fingers clutching handfuls of Nak’s dark hair. Still entwined, they were on the two highest steps, their bodies more exposed than in the water. With every arching of his back, Hari’s muscles bunched and shone, his legs and arms straining as he sought more of Nak’s greedy suckling. His cock, too, thrust from the water, breaking the surface and sinking below it again like a monster leaping for prey. Nak’s member, too, stood proudly erect and hugging his flat belly.
Cyrrhi’s fingertips brushed Torrey hardness through the towel he’d wrapped around his hips. “See how they enjoy each other? It’s only a matter of time.”
“Before they beg for my permission to release.”
Permission? They could control it? Torrey flushed as he recalled how uncontrolled sex was with Willem, how wild and abandoned. How Willem would hold him down and they would grind their bodies together, each doing anything, everything, trying to make the other come first. Once either of them tipped over the edge… control was an impossible thing.
Tearing his gaze from the men in the water, he looked at Cyrrhi’s face and was glad to see her attention fixed on Hari and Nak’s naked bodies. Was it lust that hardened her expression, or something even more devouring and voluptuous, that human men existed in every way for her pleasure? Relief that his position afforded a degree of protection collided with shame that he alone should be excluded. No nomari queen, and especially not a nom Queen, would subject her Chosen to an unwilling sexual act.
But what of later, when Cyrrhi entered estrus and her nuptial phase? When her pheromones triggered the sexual urges of every human male with whom she had contact… he would want sex. Sex with her. Sex of any kind.
Hari’s half-closed blue eyes locked onto his and he saw those perfect lips twist in a languorous smile. Taunting him, showing him a kiss touched by a promise. Torrey stiffened with resistance.
Cyrrhi’s fingers left his softened erection and touched his face. He held his breath as her voice purred into his ear. “I hoped you would enjoy watching beautiful males at play. You are right to say I prefer spears… and my slave possesses a very fine one.”
“The finest I have seen,” Torrey assured her.
“Yet you don’t desire him?”
“No, my Queen.” Torrey flushed. He’d wondered if Cyrrhi knew. Gender preference was of little interest to the nomari, whose queens often entered into sexual relationships with human females also. “These males are beautiful, but I do not want to play with them.”
“Of course not”—she brushed the hair back from his eyes—“you yearn for one who is not here.”
Torrey felt his stomach roil, on the verge of getting sick. If Cyrrhi felt threatened—
Hari and Nak splashed, rolling over. Hari was now on top, sliding cock to cock atop a moaning Nak.
“I will forget,” he promised. “Your phase is coming… and I will forget.”
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