He plowed his brother’s virgin ass and jerked his lubricated cock until Veranon sent a stream of white fluid onto the floor.
They were beautiful, those nude men with their glistening flesh and wet hair. They splashed carelessly, sometimes erotically, their gleaming bodies sliding seductively against one another in the shallow water of the calm lake. Veranon watched from the water’s edge, his eyes on their bodies and his mind someplace else. He wanted to play with them, touch them but he was unsure, frightened even, that they would reject him.
Not long ago, he’d had a terrifying encounter with a woman, a young elf who tried to deflower the skinny young Forest Elf and in her haste, forgot how shy he was. Veranon thought he could go through with it and even found her body curvaceous and delicious to the eyes, her large breasts and erect nipples tantalizing, but even they had little impact on his libido. In frustration, she tried stroking his cock to hardness but nothing she did worked. Then she thrust his fingers into the wet opening between her thighs and he found himself utterly terrified. His cock not only grew more limp but he suspected his balls may have retreated as well as he fled from her, hearing her mocking him as he bolted down the path with his pants held tightly to his groin. He did not want a repeat of the prior performance, especially not with any of these men, who would far less kind than she had been.
Cringing from the memory, he did not hear the approach of the man who came up behind him and smacked his newly branded shoulder. He winced with the sudden pain that lanced across his back and up his neck and shot an accusatory glare up at his long-haired half brother, who was naked as the men splashing in the water in front of him. “What the fuck, you ass?” Veranon demanded hotly. He was branded only yesterday upon completing his adulthood tests so they were scabbed over and quite raw. There were two markings: a fox’s black paw print on the back of his right shoulder blade and another one on his left hip, just above his hairless groin. Healing them with magic, he was told, would erase them and if that happened he would have to be rebranded.
He was not about to be rebranded. Branding meant scorching metal pushed into his delicate skin, pigment added to the wound and searing pain like nothing anyone could ever dream of in their worst nightmares. Veranon was not fond of pain, at all.
Thal laughed at his brother’s insulted frown and shook his long , wet mane, showering the younger elf with droplets of cold water. “Don’t be pathetic, Veranon. You’re an adult now, or so you’ve convinced those who tested you. I remain skeptical, especially since your body remains pure as new snow. So…” Thal’s dark eyes followed Veranon’s original line of sight and he smiled wickedly. “Do you like what you see, brother?” he asked as he dropped himself by Veranon’s side.
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m allowed. Valensoril says that someday I will marry a girl from out-clan, the daughter of another clan leader but…” Veranon’s voice trailed off as he caught sight of Thalizar’s impressive cock with its tattooed shaft and large, thick head. He quickly looked away, his cheeks flushed.
“Veranon, you’re attracted to cocks. Admit it! You couldn’t follow Valen’s wishes any more than I could.” Thal leaned back to expose his body to the sun. He was more than aware of the effect his naked, well-muscled form had on his younger half brother even though it unnerved Veranon immensely.
Basking in the heat of Veranon’s discomfort, he smirked and pulled on his cock a few times to stir an erection for Veranon’s sake. The young elf blushed furiously and looked away again. “Go ahead… I know it intrigues you… Look, brother-mine. See it. Touch it if you like…” Thal whispered seductively into Veranon’s scarlet ear, his lips close enough to touch, his breath hot enough to ignite a fire.
“You are sick! No! Never will I-I…” Veranon rose from the warm grass and stormed off, insulted by the laughter that followed him.
“Never say never, Veranon! The final words of failed resolve in my line of business,” Thalizar laughed behind him as another man flopped down beside the older elf’s body, taking Veranon’s place. It both relieved and infuriated the younger brother since his attraction to Thalizar made life in his company difficult at times.
He ran hard and fast, his bare feet smacking the soft ground with each forward lunge. He had to escape Thalizar’s laughter but it followed him in his mind long after his ears had left it behind. He was embarrassed, flustered and dismayed by his own body’s betrayal of his desire when he thought of Thal’s erect penis. It was a glorious, thick thing, perfect for holding, for sucking… For everything. He wanted it badly.
Yet allowing Thal the pleasure of proving he was right would not do. The torment would never end!
Veranon found his mother’s modest habist, a small hut-like structure his fellow ground-dwelling elves made from branches molded and shaped by skilled hands and covered with animal skins and fan leaves. Magic fused it all together into one solid unit that grew with the forest around it. Alainala’s habist was so overgrown with flowers and twisting vines that it resembled a small faerie mound. Veranon, by virtue of his recent success in passing his test, was now permitted his own habist, which was, unfortunately, still being built. This meant, of course, that he still had to live with his mother until the roof was sealed by nature and skins. He loved her but…
She was clan leader and strangely unsettling. She was, in a word, complex. Beautiful as a valley lit by the moon, dangerous as a stormy sea, serene as a gentle snowfall and wise as a sage, Alainala was everything an elf could be and more. She was approachable to all save her wary son, who found her overbearing and far too personal for his comfort.
Still, he really did need to talk to someone.
“Mother-?” He called as he parted the curtain and peered inside the dwelling.
“Back here in the book room, my love. I found you some tomes you need to read,” Alainala called as Veranon entered the short hall. She poked her head out from the tight space she used as a tidy storage for her books and scrolls, her long, pale hair thrown over her delicate shoulder and looped around her arm. She smiled initially as she spotted him before fixing him with a raised eyebrow, her delicate head tilted slightly. “Kitling? You look… Disturbed. Are you well?”
He threw himself into a heavy, leather chair, the only piece of actual furniture (besides book shelves, book tables and book stands,) in the room, and sighed. “He did it again!” Veranon spat.
With a slight smile tugging at her ageless lips, Alainala walked over to perch her tiny bottom on the edge of the chair’s arm. “Who did what, kitling? Mind reader though I am, still, unless you drop your mental shields, I cannot help you.”
“Thalizar, mother! Thalizar! He-he messed with me again, implied I like men, offered to let me touch him!”
His mother gazed down at him thoughtfully for moment before she smiled and asked, “You don’t like men, love…? I don’t understand what the problem is… That Thal approached you in a sexual manner or that you found yourself wanting it?” She cut to the bone like a butcher with heavy blade. He cringed.
Veranon started sputtering at her in shock. “Mother! How could you condone this from him? He is my brother!” He emphasized “brother” with a little whine in his voice that made Alainala smile fondly at an old memory of Veranon, as a child, running from Thalizar while wailing, “Mother, he’s picking on me again! Make him stop!”
She maintained that sweet, thoughtful smile as she enfolded her long fingers in her lap. “Technically, yes, but only by half, my sweet. I don’t believe I am condoning his advances as much as refusing to condemn them. You know my feelings concerning consensual sex; ‘to each their own and enjoy it however, with whomever, they please, as long as there is mutual consent.’ Besides, I cannot say I blame him. You’re beautiful, Veranon, and he knows this. We all know this.”
His cheeks were flushed redder than his bright, red hair and he looked away shyly. “Being attracted to your own blood is wrong, mother,” he muttered darkly.
“Why is that, kitling?”
“Because it is! There should be no reason why. It just… is.”
“Human belief, Kitling, not ours in the clans. I am curious, however… By whose moral standard, my love? Yours? Certainly not your mother’s! Perhaps your father’s but Valen has never been especially open-minded about things. Are you saying you are like him, now?”
Veranon bristled at the veiled insult in her words. Alainala knew Veranon detested his father and suggesting even a remote likeness was a virtual slap in his face. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger, Veranon rose from the chair and shot her a pained look. “I am nothing like Valensoril!”
“Then stop talking like him, kitling.” She sighed and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder with a sweet smile. “Perhaps it is time you explored your sexuality a bit, yes? Find out what attracts you, whether it is a thick cock or firm breasts, and then go for it. I lost my virginity long before I was your age, you know.”
The last thing he wanted to hear about were his mother’s sexual exploits. He rolled his eyes and looked away. “Thank you, mother,” he sighed sarcastically.
“I am only trying to help, Veranon,” Alainala said softly as she pulled three books from the upper shelves, which she reached easily. “Your brother mocks you because you have made an easy target of yourself. You do know this, do you not? Perhaps he simply is trying to inspire you to decide to act.”
“I’ll not ‘act’ with him!” Veranon spat venomously. He took the three books from Alainala’s long fingers and glanced down at them. “‘An Historic Atlas of Rome.’ ‘The Assent From Crude to Refined France.’ ‘How the Scots Won the British Isles.’ Why, mother?” her son whined.
“They’re interesting. Read them. Maybe you will learn something useful within their pages. Is your home is completed, do you know? I asked them to install a bookshelf for you. Several, actually. You could put them on it if you like. If nothing else, they make for fine decorating.” Alainala pulled her long, pale hair away from her path as she stepped out into the hall. She paused and fingered her nose for a thoughtful moment.
“Kitling, nobody can force you to do anything you do not want to do now that you have won your brands. I cannot force you into even mundane acts like studying. You see, eighteen is a special age, certainly, but eighteen and branded denotes true adulthood. It is rare for a child to be branded as young as you have been, you do know this, yes? It is admirable. Not even the great Valensoril can force you into an undesired marriage, as if I would allow it to begin with. Think on it. And do check on your habist, won’t you?”
Veranon knew when he was being dismissed and now was such a time. Usually he was welcome, since, after all, her habist was his, too. For the time being, anyway. He took his books and walked down the hall. He paused before his bedroom but something drew his eyes to his mother’s partially open door.
Within was a man, bound, gagged and tied to her bed with his legs spread wide. He stared in shock at the sight before blushing a deep crimson. “It’s a cock, Veranon. A very stiff cock and I am about to wrap my lips around it. You really ought to try it!” Alainala quipped from behind as she pushed the door open. The elf on the bed waved his fingers at Veranon though he could move nothing else. Alainala’s tone grew sharp as she barked, “Stop staring at my son, cur, and get ready for my whip. You’ve been very bad I hear!” She entered the room and slowly peeled away her long, shimmering gown as she walked. She was naked before she reached the bed.
Veranon did not see her take up the whip but he heard the strikes as they landed on the elf’s thighs. Cringing, he clutched the books tightly to his chest, fleeing the habist and bolted for what would be his own charming abode. He hoped it was ready for him. He might have even prayed, had he had a deity.
He soon realized it was later than he thought, the sun a golden memory on the darkening horizon. Already, the sadistic sounds of night were replacing the innocent chirps and whirrs of day. Couples had descended upon shadowed alcoves for lovemaking and pleasures beyond Veranon’s limited experience. He heard them rustling and moaning beyond his sight, something he was thankful for. Veranon was briefly distracted by the sight of two men sucking one another’s faces, torsos and cocks pressed together right in his path. Blushing, he skirted them and wondered why they couldn’t find a more private location.
He remembered the way through the lightly inhabited clan clearing he had to take, the winding ways and flowered walks that would lead him to his new home. Creatures of the night, frogs and chirring insects followed him on his way, adding an enchanted accompaniment to his pounding heart. Lightning bugs soon lit his path and danced joyously around him in their own sensual dance of pleasure, making Veranon smile in the cool breeze. This joining of bodies was one he could watch and enjoy without making him blush. It was almost enough to make him forget what his mother was going to do to that poor, bound elf who lay helplessly in her bed, or had done already by now. A part of him wanted to take his mother’s place while the other sought escape.
When he finally arrived, he found himself standing before a habist that was still growing though it seemed mostly completed. Wisteria and jasmine bloomed among long tendrils of ivy and pale moonflowers. The aroma was intoxicating and he inhaled dreamily. He loved his habist-makers already for knowing his tastes so well. There was little doubt in his mind that his mother might have had a thing to do with it, as she had in many aspects of the lives of her clan. He was her son and the sweet, dimple-chinned favorite of the elders so he got almost everything he desired.
Happy to be home, he started to enter but stopped as he heard…something…odd…
…Moaning? Inside his incomplete house?
There were windows, several of them, Veranon knew. He just had to find the right one! Veranon ran from window to window until he chanced upon the one where the sounds were loudest. Clutching his books tightly to his chest, he raised himself onto his tiptoes and peered inside. The remaining light, a combination of waxing moon and waning sun, lit the room just enough to give Veranon a view of his brother unlike any he’d ever imagined. He quickly dropped down into a crouch, his eyes wide with shock. Had he seen what he thought he saw? Tentatively, he raised himself back up so that only his moss-green eyes and red-locked forehead cleared the sill. His eyes had not, in fact, lied to him.
Before him, on what would soon be his bed, Thalizar was face-down in a pillow, his back etched with glistening black lines and his long, midnight hair tangled in the hands of a man Veranon knew but didn’t care care for. The other elf was slowly, powerfully, grinding his cock deep into Thal’s ass as his teeth added additional impressions to Thal’s pale shoulders. The black fluid oozed down his brother’s neck and back, dripped onto the uncovered mattress, staining it. The scent was metallic, rich… The scent of blood. Veranon’s stomach started to turn and he ducked back down, holding back the nausea that was coming. Rather than wince with pain, Thal leaned into it, moaning with pleasure. “Slow the fuck down!” the black-haired elf barked at his lover. “Make it last… And stroke my cock while you’re doing it…”
“I can’t divide my attention, Thalizar,” the lover whined. Veranon briefly considered what his brother was asking and decided the request was not a difficult one. Grab and fuck, simple as that. He imagined it was him plowing his brother, his hand squeezing and jerking hard on the long, tattooed shaft and before he realized, his cock was as hard as those of the two men he was observing. Thal heard the sound of the books falling to Veranon’s feet and started. The lover peered out the window and resumed his slow drilling into the assassin’s fine butt with a shrug. “Nothing… Animals, probably,” came the grunted response. “Stroke yourself. I’m too busy back here.”
“Rennick, do as I say, now!” Thal growled.
“I’m tempted to go fuck your brother, Krae. At least he won’t argue with me, weak as he is! He may be branded but he’s still a boy, a very pretty fey boy, ripe for a good, hard beating and my stiff—“
Within the habist, Veranon heard Thal snarl, “Touch my little brother and I will kill you, dirt-eater! He’s mine!” ‘Mine?’ thought the object of Thalizar’s retort. His empathic gift did give him a strong sense of possession combined with anger from his half brother, something he’d felt before but thought of only as the elder brother being protective. He wondered if Thal really did lust for him and wasn’t just teasing. His visits always seemed more for Veranon’s sake than his own…
Rennick laughed loudly, mockingly. “Yours, Thalizar? Veranon is yours now, is he? Screwing him already, I see. I always wondered about you two. I see I wasn’t—” Veranon didn’t see the blow land but a grunt and a fleshy smack told him what his eyes could not show. Rage poured from Thalizar like heat off a brazier.
“Fuck you, Thalizar!” Veranon cringed and any attempts at pleasuring himself were dashed by the ensuing burst of violence in the bedroom. The sounds of a brief scuffle erupted followed by a thud and an indignant “Fuck!” as someone was shoved off the bed and knocked to the floor. Veranon suspected that someone wasn’t his brother.
“I’ve had enough, Thalizar! If you want a submissive little cunt, fuck your brother or a woman. I won’t let you dominate me,” the other elf snapped. He snatched up his clothing and stormed off, seething.
Inside, Veranon heard Thal sigh and curse. Things had gone much worse than planned and Thalizar Krae was accustomed to having his way. He lit an oil lamp, which gave off a warm, flickering glow. “Veranon, you might as well come inside. Rennick is gone though I suspect he will be back. The promise of pain play is too much for him to resist.”
Shyly, Veranon climbed into the window and leapt gracefully from the sill to the floor. “How did you know it was me?” He asked with a little tremor in his voice.
Thal stretched out naked in the center of the bed, which was easily large enough for two people. Veranon noted that it was plush, comfortable, human-made and expensive. It was perfect for him. Or would be if he could remove his brother from it.
Thal languidly rolled his dark eyes over in Veranon’s direction and idly twisted a lock of black hair in his long fingers. “You have this nasty habit of empathically latching onto people you like. I can feel you when you are near as a result of it. So… Besides giving yourself a thrill, what were you doing out there?”
Flushed red with embarrassment, Veranon said, “This is my house, Thalizar. I heard noises…” Vaguely, he recalled his mother’s books lying on the damp earth outside the window and promised himself he would retrieve them.
“Ah. You heard noises. Well, you’ve investigated and now you know what was causing them. At this point, you have two choices, Veranon… Either finish what that fool started or leave. I care not.”