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: tender loving care or “What the fuck do you think I am, an animal?” or “absence makes the heart grow fonder” or use a dick in a box or have a character have a senior moment (regardless of their age) or talk about putting someone out to pasture or use a cabal in your story or Tarot cards or “caveat emptor” or “The South shall rise again!”
Sealed in Stone #16
Torrey saw Hari’s gaze harden and those blue eyes remained locked resentfully on his as the slave removed his mouth from Torrey’s hard cock. Hari sank back to lean against Cyrrhi’s hand as she combed his blond hair and directed one of the workers to open a flat box. From it she selected a long object, shaped like a human phallus fashioned from polished deep blue glass.
“This one. Aktu”—she turned to the other youth, a slender pale lad with a head of black curls and clever eyes—“bring my Hari to release on the stone kram.” The word she used, the nomari word for cock, fit the act so well it had long since been adopted by humans also.
As Torrey watched wide-eyed, Aktu strapped a harness of sturdy wormskin about his hips. Two straps passed between his legs to each side of his balls. As Aktu did so, Torrey caught a full glimpse of the device enclosing Aktu’s cock—claws of gleaming gold clasped the shaft and curved downward to a head of glittering diamonds, imprisoning the lad’s rosy organ completely. Once the harness was in place, Aktu strapped the phallus in place and tightened the fit so the organ stood out before him, pointing at Hari.
Torrey moved to throw the towel back across his lap, hoping to conceal his still hard cock, but Cyrrhi placed her other hand upon his wrist.
“No, Chosen. I want to see that. I want to see all the fine krams.” She all but purred at the sight of the phallus Aktu was wearing. “Watch with me as my slaves perform one of my favorite pleasures, though Hari considers it a punishment. He’s never completely put aside his barbarian hatred for being under another man. Though he will do it to please me, won’t you, beloved of my loins?”
“Yes, my Queen.” Hari’s eyes shut as Cyrrhi’s fingers closed over a handful of hair and pulled back so his face lifted to hers. When Cyrrhi bent to kiss him, his lips parted eagerly, allowing her full entrance.
Torrey flushed at the heat in that kiss. He had long suspected Hari was Cyrrhi’s true sexual passion. The few times she’d kissed Torrey had been respectful, chaste even, not like this searing plunder. Thoughts of Willem kissing him, hard and raw, invading his mouth with fierce intention, caused his heart and breath to quicken. His body wanted that again… he wanted it, and Willem. He wanted Willem… Willem’s mouth and hands and cock, taking him the way Aktu was preparing to take Hari now.
Aktu pressed Hari down on his back, legs raised, and began working his hole. Torrey fought feelings of need, clenching his buttocks, though that only made him yearn more. Was this about Cyrrhi’s pleasure, too, knowing how he would respond? Her plans for him were far more obscure than what she was doing with Hari right now, softly giving orders to Aktu, directing the youth as he pushed oiled fingers into the slave’s body.
It was wrong to watch and yet he did. Wrong to be aroused, and yet he was. Hari’s body arched, golden and perfect and so darn beautiful his violation seemed like poetry. Whenever Cyrrhi murmured what she desired, Aktu’s hands delivered, gliding gracefully over Hari’s chest to play with his pierced, jutting nipples, twisting until Hari cried out… then taking hold of Hari’s erect cock, Aktu stroking that silken length with his left hand while plunging the fingers of his right deep into the gasping slave’s aroused body. To his shame, Torrey wished it were him.
“My Queen,” Hari gasped. “I’m too excited.”
“But what do you want?”
“I want to please you!”
It was not the answer Cyrrhi craved. Torrey knew that without ever having seen this side of the Queen’s sensual preferences before. A human male saying he wanted to please a queen was simply a way to appease her.
“You see how he resists?” Cyrrhi stroked Torrey’s thigh. Fingernails as gleaming as beetle chitin brushed his stiff cock and sent a frisson of pleasure up his spine. Her six fingers enclosed him and she swept her thumb pad across the tip of his glans, slicking his cockhead with the single drop of excitement that had appeared there. “You would not resist, I think. What would you say, were you in his position?”
“I would beg for Aktu to fuck me.” Truth. Only truth.
Cyrrhi smirked. Her golden irises glowed with sexual heat as she turned them again on Hari. “You see, my favorite, my Chosen gives me what you refuse. He does not want Aktu. He wants another. But he knows he would beg Aktu to fuck him, that his body would want it, and need it. He would close his mind and envision another in Aktu’s place… but he would surrender his body wholly to that other.”
“I don’t have another!” Hari’s cry dissolved into inchoate pleas when Aktu, on Cyrrhi’s signal, took position between Hari’s legs and positioned the sleek blue phallus at his hole.
Torrey closed his eyes, but Cyrrhi said, “Watch,” so he did.
He had never penetrated Willem. The promised punishments should he ever use his cock in that way had been dire. Even so, he preferred being fucked, the stretch and intimacy and, yes, power of his lover filling him that way. Willem’s size and strength were part of that pleasure. But he had never really looked at himself while doing it, never seen the way a cock stretched a man’s anus, or how one looked as it pushed into a man’s body, spreading him wide. Did he look like Hari did now… bent in half, opened, rocking to the rhythm being set by the other man?
And did he wear the same look of hated surrender?
He watched, but the only one he hated was Cyrrhi, for doing to Hari and Aktu what had never been done to him.
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