heres omething bot pot elicitas ve

There’s Something About Spot

R

YAN

woke up when he felt Spot jump on the bed. He had

been half asleep until that happened, not wanting to move
even though he knew he had a lot to do today. Spot snuffled
and wiggled in pleasure when Ryan started to drowsily pet
him.

“You’re getting a bit too big for this,” Ryan told him

affectionately. Spot made a sound that might or might not
have been some sort of agreement with the statement.

The solid mahogany bed creaked under the additional

weight, and so Ryan decided to get out of bed, since he was
truly awake now. He wandered down to the kitchen, Spot
following him eagerly, hungry for his own breakfast and very
willing to share Ryan’s. Ryan cooked his own meal of bacon
and eggs and fed Spot his usual fare. Spot was rapidly
approaching the size of a small horse, and Ryan knew that
he was still growing.

Ryan knew Spot wasn’t hungry but still gave him scraps

from his breakfast when he begged for them. Ryan knew he
would be scolded by Wil for doing that, but he couldn’t resist
Spot’s begging, because he was so cute when he did it. He
cleaned up the breakfast dishes and walked to his studio,
wanting to load up the pieces he was taking into town before
he showered.

Ryan petted Spot when he tried to follow him into his

workshop although he knew he wasn’t allowed in there. “I

heres omething bot pot elicitas ve

know that you want to help,” Ryan told him. “But you can’t.
This stuff is delicate.”

Ryan spent most of his time carving odd bits of folk art

to sell in town, along with bigger pieces that the villagers
requested, because he couldn’t spend all his time getting
fucked by his lover. He was beginning to make a fair bit of
money with it, too, something that surprised him. But he
guessed that tourists were willing to spend a lot of money on
bits of wood, bragging that they had gotten some sort of folk
art on their vacation.

Spot drooped at Ryan’s comment, folding himself so that

he was a small—for him at least—ball on the floor, looking
up pitifully. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t go into town
with me,” Ryan told him, feeling guilty even though he knew
he was being manipulated.

Spot perked up. “You have to wear your collar,” Ryan

told him. “You know that certain people don’t like it when
you don’t wear one.”

Spot snorted, but he trotted over to get his collar. Ryan

buckled it on him, noticing that it barely fit Spot now. He
was going to have to get a bigger one soon, probably having
to special order it, because this was the largest he had been
able to find.

Ryan loaded up the Jeep Cherokee, an older model that

seemed to be more rust and replacement parts than Jeep. He
liked it, and since they rarely used the vehicle for more than
getting around the area, getting a newer model didn’t seem
to make any sense. But he’d talk about it with Wil when he
saw him next. Wil had been busy getting the harvest
planted, so he hadn’t been home for more than an hour or

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two in the last couple of weeks.

Today was the summer solstice and the end of the busy

season for Wil, who helped look after the three dozen or so
scattered farms that made up the village. Even with modern
farming methods and technology, the villagers still clung to
many of their traditions when planting their fields. Wil had
spent the last week or so with the few dozen families that
made up the community here. Since Wil’s family was the
oldest one in the community, some of his ancestors having
been here since before there was a village, he was the one
called upon to lead most of the rites the community followed.
Ryan knew he usually wasn’t asked to be involved with their
planting rituals because he wasn’t considered one of them.

Ryan was hot and sweaty by the time he got done

loading up the Jeep, glad that he had waited for a shower.
The weather was getting warmer finally, the spring rains
having stopped and the woods starting to show some green.

He turned the hot water on full, glad that the bathroom

was up to date, even if the rest of the place seemed to be
stuck in the 1700s. Retro chic went out the window when he
wanted a decent shower. Wil agreed with him and had
helped him update the kitchen and the bathroom when Ryan
had moved in with him.

Ryan washed up, lingering for a while on his genitals,

horny after a couple of weeks of celibacy. He stroked his
cock with one hand, his other reaching around to play with
his ass. He worked a finger into his body, moaning and
groaning over the way it felt, finding that special spot inside
him quickly. He teased himself to the edge a couple of times,
stroking himself inside and out before stopping. Wil didn’t

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even have time to do this for himself, so it wasn’t fair that
Ryan could. Tonight wasn’t so far away that he couldn’t wait.
Ryan reluctantly stopped masturbating and finished his
shower, firmly reminding himself that he was going to get to
see Wil tonight, and he doubted that he would be walking
straight the next couple of days, because they were going to
be making up for lost time.

When Ryan got out of the shower, he wiped the mirror

down, and as he shaved, he wondered what Wil saw in him.
Ryan was the first to admit that he wasn’t handsome or
pretty. His dark blond hair was thick and curly, cut short to
keep it in some sort of order. His eyes were green, and he
was in shape from all the woodworking he did, even if his
hands were usually stained and calloused from it. He was
just about medium height and average all around, he
thought, nothing that stood out, nothing that could make
him get noticed by someone as special as Wil.

Ryan got dressed in an old T-shirt and tattered jeans,

clothing he wouldn’t mind getting dirty when he helped Wil
with the last of the planting. He grinned. He knew a lot of
people he had grown up with wouldn’t understand how he
could get so excited about living in the country. They didn’t
know how much fun it could be with the right person!

R

YAN

drove into town with Spot, who spent most of the ride

with his head stuck out the window. People who saw them
waved, and Ryan waved back. He liked being in a small
town, with all the friendliness he had found here, after the
big city. He pulled into a parking space outside Miss

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Serenity’s Emporium. No big city chains had found their way
into the village; all of the shops here were locally owned,
selling local products for the most part. Ryan usually made a
trip outside the area once a month or so to pick up anything
he couldn’t get over the Internet.

Spot leaped out of the Jeep and bounded into the store.

Ryan wondered if he shouldn’t have put the leash on him as
well as his collar. Not that he had the strength to hold Spot
back, but it would serve as some sort of control, a reminder
to Spot that he was supposed to behave while he was here.

Ryan followed Spot into the store, glad there weren’t any

tourists in town yet. They got a few during the summer, and
more during the fall, leaf peepers who wandered off the
usual routes. He didn’t need the hysterics Spot would be
causing in them with his overenthusiastic greeting to Miss
Serenity.

Miss Serenity was ancient. Ryan knew of no other way

to describe her. She had been barely five foot tall when she
was younger; now that she was bent over with age, she was
much shorter. Her thin white hair was pulled back into a
loose bun, her face a series for fretwork wrinkles, her slightly
bulging eyes whitening from cataracts. Spot seemed to tower
over her. She was petting him, and he was wiggling
frantically with pleasure, seemingly made out of JELL-O
rather than anything solid.

“I’m sorry, Miss Serenity,” Ryan started to say.

“I know how hard it is to keep this kind of pet under

control,” she told him with a laugh. “I used to have one or
two of them in my time.” That was clear, by the way that she
expertly scratched him. “And I know that he’s excited

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because he knows what today is.”

“I think that he just misses Wil,” Ryan said wistfully.

“Like you do,” she told him with a smile. “He needs to

see to the crops. They keep us going through the winter,
more than those pesky tourists.”

“Speaking of tourists,” Ryan said, “I have some more

stuff for you. I can unload it and then head over to the
library. It’s my day.”

The village couldn’t afford a full-time librarian, so a

series of volunteers took care of the place. Ryan did so when
he could, mostly during the warm weather. During the
winter, he and Wil were usually snowed in, even with four-
wheel drive on the Jeep.

“Leave the Jeep here,” Miss Serenity told him. “I’ll get

Ralph to unload it.”

Ralph was her great-grandson, about the only family the

old woman had left, most of them having left the village for
one reason or another. He was a hulking lad, as the locals
said, and did a lot of odd jobs around town. He was taking
some online courses also, and he would be getting a
bachelor’s degree in agricultural management in a year or
two, with a minor in English. Ryan knew he had a sly sense
of humor and was brilliant.

“And I wish that you had dressed better,” Miss Serenity

told him.

Ryan grinned. “With what’s happening later, old clothes

are a good choice. They have a tendency to get ruined.”

Miss Serenity cackled for a second before shaking her

head. “Someone’s going to be at the library today.”

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!

Ryan frowned. Miss Serenity was also known as the

local white witch, and people listened to her hunches. “I’ll
take my chances,” he said.

“You need to leave Spot here at least,” she told him

firmly. “You know how he is with outsiders.”

Ryan nodded. For the most part, Spot was sweet

natured, but he didn’t like anyone he thought was a threat
to either Ryan or Wil. Unfortunately, he thought that anyone
he didn’t know was a threat, and Spot tried to take care of
those threats permanently. That, and people had a tendency
to be intimidated by his size, even if he behaved.

“I’ll pick up Spot and the Jeep when I’m done at the

library,” Ryan told her, handing over his keys. He trusted
Ralph with his car, something he wouldn’t have done before
he had moved here. Village life was very different from where
he had grown up. “I have a bunch of those puzzles that the
tourists like in a box on the front seat.”

Miss Serenity took his keys, her grip surprisingly strong

for someone her age. “I know that it’s going to be a good
harvest,” she said.

Ryan nodded and petted Spot. “You have to stay here,

boy,” he told him. “I have some things to do and then we can
visit Wil, okay?”

Spot rumbled happily and didn’t seem too upset when

Ryan left him with Miss Serenity. Ryan knew he was going to
be spoiled shamelessly by the old woman.

“You act like he knows what you’re talking about,” Miss

Serenity commented.

“He’s been good company,” Ryan said. “Wil and I talk to

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"

him often. I think that he’s smarter than some of the tourists
that come through here.”

Miss Serenity laughed and started to toddle into her

store, Spot supporting her easily as she used him as a cane.
Ryan turned and went down the street to the small, local
library. He opened the door, knowing it wasn’t locked; few
people bothered to lock doors around here.

Ryan brewed himself a pot of tea to drink as he did the

filing and whatever else needed to be done. He filled the
delicate china teapot with hot water, steeping the leaves for a
couple of minutes. He didn’t know of anyone who used
teabags in the village. They had made an agreement with a
small Massachusetts town that had been very successful in
the China Trade, and that town had supplied them with tea
in return for some of the village crops. It was too bad that
the town had shut down during the twenties, mysteriously
burned to the ground. Some of the survivors of the incident
moved up here, intermarrying with the locals. Miss Serenity
actually was the last one left alive from that time, now that
he thought about it.

Ryan had spent a couple of productive hours

straightening out book requests and updating things on the
computer when the bell to the door jangled. “I’ll be out in a
second,” he called out.

“Finally, a sign of fuckin’ life,” a man called back in a

thick New York accent.

Ryan strode out to meet him, calling, “It’s quiet around

here.”

The stranger was in his early twenties, wearing pants

that looked like they were falling off his hips and a too-tight

heres omething bot pot elicitas ve

#$

tank top. Not a good look for a man carrying thirty extra
pounds on his frame. He apparently had some sort of
Mediterranean heritage, looking at his skin tone, and Ryan
was betting it was Italian from the man’s accent.

“Nothing seems to be open,” he complained. “I’m so

fucking off the beaten path, there isn’t even shit to kick
here.”

Ryan bit his tongue at the man’s rudeness. “We don’t

get many visitors.”

“No shit,” the man told him sourly. “Can you tell me

where to get to what passes as a fuckin’ highway around
here?”

Ryan tried not to laugh. His rude tourist was so lost it

was going to take him hours to get back to the interstate. He
wondered what Fates he had pissed off to have him arrive
here. Ryan grabbed a map from behind the desk and spread
it out.

“Why doesn’t my GPS or cell work up here? Fucking

things just went to shit, and I’ve been driving for hours. You
got a place that I can piss or do I have to water your lawn?”

“Bathroom’s in the back,” Ryan told him, waving in its

general direction.

The man practically flew there, and Ryan hid a grin. He

didn’t doubt that Miss Serenity and Spot were taking a nap
together. Ralph wouldn’t talk to strangers, and Ryan was
certain the diner shut down because there was no one there.
The sheriff was probably out someplace with some ’shine,
worshiping John Barleycorn, considering what day it was.

When the man reappeared again, he had a sheepish grin

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##

on his face. “I’ve been an ass. Call me Guido. Nothing
personal, but I don’t like the way that some of the sheep
have been looking at me around here.”

“It scares off the Greeks,” Ryan said dryly.

Guido laughed at that.

“But you’re very lost,” Ryan told him. He pointed to a

spot on the map, not even labeled. “Here we are.”

“Which is where?” Guido interrupted him. “I haven’t

seen shit for signs.”

“Hidden Valley,” Ryan said.

“Like the salad dressing?” Guido asked. “You’re kidding,

right?”

“You said you were off the beaten path,” Ryan reminded

him.

“It’s not even on the map,” Guido observed. That was

true; there was something about this place that made people
forget it was here, even the government mapping service.
“Shit, that’s where the interstate is? It’ll take me fuckin’
hours to get there on these shit roads.”

“Let me get you started in the right direction,” Ryan

said. “And be grateful that it’s summer, there’re no street
lights here.”

“I look like I’m that much of a city boy, don’t I?” Guido

asked.

“You don’t look like a local,” Ryan told him dryly,

looking at the way he was dressed. “You’ll hit the highway
when it’s still light out if you leave now.”

“Fuck, the place is a goddamn ghost town, no point in

staying,” Guido grumbled.

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#

Ryan smiled and followed Guido out to his car, wanting

to make sure the annoying man left. And it wasn’t like he
had anything left to do here, so he could meet up with Wil
early. He’d grab his keys off of Ralph and drive up there with
Spot. He was lost in the thoughts of what he wanted to do to
Wil when he saw him next when he was jolted out of them by
bumping into Guido.

“What the fuck?” the man practically screamed, hysteria

in his voice.

Ryan glanced over at what he was staring at. Ralph and

Spot were walking toward them. Spot saw him and wiggled
in excitement. Ryan frowned. He guessed that even someone
from New York wasn’t used to see a six-foot-tall toadish-
looking man walking down the street dressed in jeans and
button-down shirt.

Ralph was like most of the villagers here, considered

deformed by the outsider world, but really having been
blessed by their god by reflecting his shape. The village had a
population of about two hundred, Ryan guessed. Those that
could “pass” in the outside world sometimes left to do so.
The others, which was most of the population, couldn’t and
stayed here in this quaint New England village, hiding from
the authorities or anyone who would turn them into a
sideshow freak.

“That’s Ralph,” Ryan told him calmly.

“Get that thing the fuck away from me,” Guido

screamed, sounding like a preschool girl with the squeak in
his voice, even with the language he was using. “And that
fucking monster too!”

“Spot?” Ryan asked him, trying not to sound as angry as

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#

he felt. Spot was a good pet, just a little on the big side.
“He’s….”

Guido didn’t let him finish his sentence, grabbing Ryan

and thrusting him in front of him, screaming, “Eat him! Eat
him!”

That was the last thing that he said. Spot reacted to

what he rightly thought was a threat to his charge. He
blurred, Ryan swore, moving fast and deadly. Ryan felt a
breeze, and then Guido wailed, sounding lost and worse
when the wail was suddenly cut off. Ryan stumbled forward,
falling into Ralph’s arms and burying his face into his chest,
not wanting to see what Spot was doing.

“Not another one,” he moaned.

He felt Ralph chuckle. “He had every right to eat that

last one. That man was so annoying, didn’t want to listen to
anything that we told him. And being Chinese, Spot was
hungry an hour later.”

Ryan groaned at Ralph’s ghoulish humor. He guessed

he was still an outsider if this upset him. The villagers
thought it was the right of the god who protected this place
to take anyone who strayed here. It had been that way for
generations.

Spot whined, and Ryan turned around. He didn’t see

anything, since Spot had absorbed Guido into himself.

“We just have to get rid of the car, and then there will be

nothing to worry about,” Ralph told him calmly.

Ryan didn’t say anything, petting Spot. He couldn’t be

mad at him, since Spot had just done what he thought he
had to do—protect Ryan.

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#

“Bad Spot,” Ryan scolded, even though his heart wasn’t

in it. Spot at least looked guilty, even if he had grown a bit
from his snack.

“The god wants blood as well as other sacrifices on this

day,” Ralph reminded him gently.

Ryan nodded, needing to see his lover now more than

ever.

R

YAN

drove up to the cave where he was to meet Wil,

reminding himself to tell his lover about the tourist incident
eventually. He ignored the “No Trespassing” and “Danger”
signs that were scattered around the area. He knew they
were mostly for show; he was aware of the dangers here and
could avoid them. After parking, he grabbed an old-
fashioned hurricane lamp out of the back of the Jeep. He lit
the lantern at the opening of the cave and cautiously went
in. Ryan wasn’t surprised to see Spot race past him, since he
had no fear of anything in the universe.

Ryan went about twenty feet into the cave, the narrow

opening widening into a fairy land of glittering stone about a
hundred feet high. He felt like he had gone into a fairy
mound and shivered.

“I missed you,” Wil said from the opposite side of the

cavern.

There was actually a series of caves here, going deeper

into the hills, hiding a secret the villagers had discovered
when the place was founded. Ryan just stopped and admired
his lover, lusting after the beauty that he saw. Wil was taller

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#

than him, muscular and tan from a lifetime of working
outdoors. Unlike the rest of the villagers, he was fine-
featured, with straight black hair that hinted at some Indian
heritage. He could be a model with his looks, but Wil had
never left this valley, couldn’t tell you who the governor or
the president were, nor did he care. His entire life was
centered around his village and Ryan.

Spot was rubbing up against Wil and the suddenly solid

shadows that wove about Wil’s legs, glad to see his master
and his siblings again. The shadows tumbled around the
area, playing with each other, darting around wildly. Dark
Spawn acted like that when they were together. As playful as
puppies and deadlier than sharks, they were hunters and
protectors for their god, Tsthug’wa. They obeyed Wil because
he was the Priest of Tsthug’wa and protected Ryan since he
was Wil’s lover.

“Tradition is that I have to visit the villagers and share

in their bounty to ensure a good harvest,” Wil told him,
crossing the cave to embrace him.

Ryan leaned into his embrace. “Spot isn’t a good

bedmate.”

Wil laughed at that, a warm and welcoming sound to

Ryan’s ears. “I missed you too. Most of the families still try to
have me ‘bless’ the fields with their daughters. I keep telling
them that I want no other but you for that.”

“They should have asked if you were gay,” Ryan

muttered.

It was an old argument. The Elders weren’t upset about

Wil’s choice, just very confused. A man and an outsider went
against tradition that went back decades, if not centuries.

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#

But the harvests had been better than ever the last three
years, and because of that, the Elders had decided that
Tsthug’wa approved.

Wil laughed. “I saw you and I wanted you.”

Ryan nuzzled his chest. He had met Wil when he had

gotten lost taking a short cut three years ago. He just never
bothered to be found again, not that there had been anyone
to worry about him—his family hadn’t been too happy with
him when he had come out of the closet, he’d had a dead-
end job, and getting lost on that summer solstice hadn’t
been a bad thing for him.

Wil slid a finger under his chin and tilted Ryan’s head

back. “There’s no one that I would rather celebrate the rites
with.”

Ryan leaned up and kissed Wil, sloppily and greedily.

Wil moaned and rubbed against Ryan, hard and needy, the
thin cloth of their pants creating a delightful friction. The
two of them stumbled into the inner cave, the sanctuary of
Tsthug’wa, stopping right at the edge of His altar, outside the
snatching range of His tentacles.

As a god, Tsthug’wa wasn’t very impressive. He was

short and squat, a cross between a toad and a bat, with
tentacles. He was also known as the Sleeping God, and his
followers were careful not to awaken him, afraid of the chaos
that he would bring awake. Tsthug’wa was happy with the
occasional sacrifice of a sheep or goat, absorbing it into his
body much in the same manner Spot had absorbed Guido.
Occasionally people, mostly strangers, did ignore the signs,
and Tsthug’wa ate them, not truly aware that the bleating
being wasn’t his usual fare. Ryan had been horrified when

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#

he had been introduced to Him and told the lore of the
village, the stories of the other gods of His pantheon, of their
power and the madness.

Tsthug’wa was a lesser being to the others. Ryan,

knowing of the ills that filled the world outside this quaint
little place, had accepted the villagers’ lifestyle and choices.
He went to their services in the small white church that
looked like it belonged to one of the many Protestant sects in
the area. He accepted that his life was here, isolated with his
lover, surrounded by people who would be considered
monsters or freaks.

The only thing that Tsthug’wa wanted in return for his

protection of the village was for His priest to celebrate the
arrival of summer with His fertility rituals. Ryan, after
hearing about what the other gods in that strange and
maddening pantheon wanted, thought that Tsthug’wa being
a voyeur was harmless, even if he was the one who was
providing him the show. He didn’t want Tsthug’wa either
angry with him or awake. So once a year, Ryan met Wil at
this cave, where his lover fucked him hard and often until
they were both exhausted.

Wil ripped open Ryan’s worn and loose button-fly jeans.

Ryan wasn’t wearing anything underneath them, giving Wil
easy access to Ryan’s cock.

“Slut,” Wil teased him between kisses, stroking Ryan’s

hard cock, listening to him moan helplessly as he played
with the head.

Ryan’s hands were busy working into Wil’s pants,

handling his hard cock expertly. Wil wasn’t wearing any
underwear, either. “Kettle-black, black-kettle,” Ryan replied.

heres omething bot pot elicitas ve

#!

Wil didn’t say anything, running his hands up and

down Ryan’s body, touching him in all the right ways to
make Ryan lose his mind.

“I want to taste you,” Ryan moaned.

Wil nipped his lip. “Then on your knees.”

Ryan dropped to his knees in an instant, licking and

mouthing Wil’s cock. It tasted so good, it was worth not
having Wil touch him more than threading his hands though
his hair. He breathed in Wil’s scent, sweat and green growing
things along with his unique smell.

“Fuck, you keep that up and I’m coming in your mouth,”

Wil moaned.

“All over my face,” Ryan said, pulling back a bit and

begging. “I want to….”

Ryan didn’t get to say anything more as he was lifted to

his feet, Wil stripping his own jeans off frantically, ripping
Ryan’s clothing off of him. Ryan gasped when Wil slid a slick
finger into his ass, probing and loosening the opening. He
arched up when one finger became two, the haste that his
lover was showing making it uncomfortable even with the
lube.

“I need you,” Wil growled sounding very unlike his

normal self.

Ryan kissed him frantically, knowing this really wasn’t

Wil. Wil was a gentle and considerate lover who switched
both roles and positions often, but now he was purely
Tsthug’wa’s priest, and Ryan was a vessel for his lust. It had
frightened him the first time it happened, but now he didn’t
want Wil to treat him any other way when they were here.

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#"

Ryan relaxed when he was spun around and bent over a

stone in front of Tsthug’wa’s altar. It was stained and worn
from the generations of priests who had used it. He draped
himself over it, the oddly smooth stone rubbing against his
nipples, making them hard and erect. He went limp, Wil now
using three fingers in his ass, stretching it and playing with
him for a minute, making him beg and plead for more.

He got what he wanted when he felt Wil’s cock hot and

hard at his entrance, pausing for a second before just
pushing in fast and rough. Wil leaned against his shoulders,
trapping him against the stone before starting to thrust in
and pull out rapidly, their balls slapping together as Ryan
was fucked into the stone.

“Yes… yes… more….” Ryan growled, wiggling his ass,

wanting it rough and hard. He was going to come; he knew it
from the way Wil was striking his special spot. Not that it
mattered to Wil. They would be fucking like this for hours.
Wil was insatiable now, filled with the power and stamina of
Tsthug’wa.

Ryan threw his head back and screamed, bucking

helplessly as he came, splattering the stone and his legs with
his come. Wil growled and leaned over, nipping his ear, and
Ryan swore that he felt the man come inside him, red hot
and incredible. Wil pulled out and turned Ryan over, letting
his head hang backward over the back of the stone, facing
Tsthug’wa. Ryan lifted his head up, drinking in the sight of
his lover, erect and glowing from the eerie light in the cave.
That he didn’t look human was all that Ryan had time to
think before Wil spread his legs wide and entered him. Ryan
moaned and wrapped his legs around Wil’s waist, drawing
him closer before letting his head fall back.

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$

Watching the shadowy forms of the Dark Spawn dance

around Tsthug’wa’s bulk from this angle was fascinating.
But it didn’t distract Ryan from Wil steadily fucking him, his
eyes on his god also, chanting some sort of strange,
unearthly mantra, comforting and terrifying at the same
time. Ryan let the words wash over his consciousness,
arching up into every thrust of Wil’s, wanting to beg for
more, but unable to do more than moan, eventually chanting
with his lover, lost in the passion he felt. Ryan tensed up,
clawing at the stone, tightening his legs around Wil, trying to
get him to merge with him, arching higher and higher until
he broke, screaming as he came, hearing his screams echoed
by his lover and knowing that Wil was coming with him.
There was a pause, like the world was standing still, and
then Wil started again, magnificent, making Ryan lust for
him all over again.

He didn’t know how long this lasted before he heard

Wil’s voice, rough and commanding: “Once more.”

Ryan whimpered but didn’t fight him when Wil dragged

him off the stone and made him kneel on the ground. Ryan
was vaguely aware that they were kneeling on the remains of
his clothing as Wil pushed him forward. Ryan landed on his
hands, spreading his legs instinctively, thrusting his ass up
for Wil. He gasped when Wil pierced him. Ryan wasn’t
exactly sore, but well-used was the phrase that came to
mind. Not that it mattered, well-lubed was also covered,
especially with the amount of come that was seeping down
his legs. Wil must have been fucking him for hours, both of
them coming endlessly, for him to be this covered.

Wil’s hands grasped his hips, and Ryan knew it would

be hours more before Wil was satisfied. He heard Wil growl

heres omething bot pot elicitas ve

#

low in his throat as he leaned over him, licking and nipping
at his neck and ear. “All mine,” Wil moaned.

“Yours,” Ryan agreed, not knowing if it was Wil or

Tsthug’wa making this claim. All he knew was that he was
being taken and filled, Wil bucking against him, coming in
him. Ryan whimpered in pleasure as he felt Wil’s hands all
over his body, tweaking his nipples, teasing his cock and
making him lick his come off his fingers. Ryan was too out of
it to know what he was really doing; all that mattered was
that he or Wil seemed to orgasming endlessly, neither of
them in sync with each other, until the end.

Ryan’s head was on the ground, turned to one side so

that he could mouth Wil’s fingers, whenever they got into
range. He was sore, aware of Wil’s cock in his ass,
hypersensitive to every thrust. He was spent—he had been
for hours—but still couldn’t stop or ask Wil to. Orgasms
were still being wrung from him only through sheer
persistence on Wil’s part.

“One more,” Wil crooned in his ear. “For him… for me.”

Ryan felt Wil teasing his balls, like he had been doing on

and off for an hour or more. He sobbed, not knowing if he
could, but wanting to, wanting it more than he could
imagine. Wil’s hands strayed to his cock, stroking it, gently
coaxing one more orgasm out of him. Ryan rocked with Wil,
the two of them groaning together, Ryan fighting for his
climax, feeling it slowly grow. He gasped and threw his head
back, actively fucking Wil now, wanting him badly. He
tensed up, feeling the familiar curl in his stomach, especially
since Wil was kissing him, rough and demanding, turning
him on. This was for Wil, he knew, and that was what sent

heres omething bot pot elicitas ve

him over the edge. Not with a scream, but with a moan,
trembling with exhaustion when he was done, feeling Wil
come with him one last time.

They both collapsed and cuddled in the rags of their

clothing. Ryan felt the soggy mess that was underneath them
and laughed weakly. “I forgot to bring more clothing.”

“You always do,” Wil teased him.

They lay silent for a couple of more minutes. Ryan was

exhausted, but he didn’t want to sleep here. Even though he
felt that he couldn’t sit comfortably, he wanted to ride home,
have a shower, and then sleep for days.

Wil kissed him gently and then stood up, bowing to

Tsthug’wa deeply, chanting the end of the rite before leaning
over to help Ryan up. Ryan stretched and winced. He felt as
if he had been swimming in a pool of semen, he was so
covered with it.

“I’ll clean up later,” Wil promised him, looking around.

“We can,” Ryan told him.

Wil kissed him, soft and gentle. Ryan kissed him back,

both excited and afraid that they were going to be doing this
again next year. Hell, his cock stirred at the thought, as
fucked out as he was. Shit, he was insane to be living like
this. But Wil made it all worthwhile.

“Time to go home. I’ll scrub your back for you,” Wil

promised.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Ryan told him.

Wil whistled for Spot, not wanting to have him try to

make his own way home. That usually wasn’t a good idea. It
might not be too bad with the tourist that he had eaten

heres omething bot pot elicitas ve

earlier, but they still shouldn’t take the chance.

Spot bounded out of the back of the cavern. Ryan was

surprised to see him. He had gotten a lot smaller, about the
size of a newborn Rottweiler puppy now. He had three eyes
and a number of tentacles, which Ryan couldn’t count
because Spot kept shifting his shape. Ryan knew they
weren’t going to ever be able to pass him off as a dog again
with what he was seeing. Not that they needed to, but it
helped sometimes when dealing with tourists.

“He’s cute,” Wil cooed.

Ryan shook his head. “So long as he’s still house-

trained, I don’t care what he looks like.”

Spot bounded over to him and started rubbing against

him, glad to see Ryan again, acting like he was more cat
than dog this time. That was fine until he started to hump
Ryan’s leg. Wil gently tried to discourage Spot, but the
damage was done—Spot had slimed something all over
Ryan’s feet, marking him.

“Why does he always do that to you?” Wil muttered.

Ryan laughed and resigned himself to having to train

Spot all over again not to do that.

R

YAN

let Wil drive home in the dawning light. Not just

because he was sore, though it was a deciding factor in his
decision, but mostly because Spot was curled up on his lap,
snoring slightly. Ryan closed his eyes and dozed, grateful for
the towel underneath him, because he didn't want to have to
clean the Jeep out too. He jerked awake when the vehicle

heres omething bot pot elicitas ve

came to a stop. Spot wiggled excitedly because he was home
and bounded out of the vehicle when it came to a stop.

Wil and Ryan got out at a slower pace, and Ryan

groaned when he started to walk; he had stiffened up on the
ride home. Every muscle in his body ached. There was an
envelope with his name on it, and he recognized Miss
Serenity’s spidery Edwardian handwriting. He recognized the
sheriff’s writing on the ticket, citing him for having Spot off
his leash in town. The fine appeared to be a few more
sessions manning the library. On the whole, that wasn't a
bad one. He just had to remember not to bring Spot with him
for it.

“What’s wrong?” Wil asked concerned, planting a tender

kiss on his shoulder

“I got a ticket for Spot’s little escapade in town,” Ryan

told him. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you about it earlier.
Spot sort of ate another tourist. A New Yorker.”

Wil looked down at Spot, who wiggled a bit and tried to

look innocent. Wil shook his head with a smile, looking down
at the small Dark Spawn, too small for now to cause much
trouble. “At least the tourists will be safe for a while.”

%et more stories from

The Dreamspinner Press 2010 Daily Dose

package of thirty stories is available at

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About the Author

F

ELICITAS

I

VEY

is the pen name of a very frazzled helpdesk

drone at a Boston-area university. She’s an eternal student
even with a BA in anthropology and history, since free
classes are part of the benefits. She’s taken courses on
gothic architecture, premodern Japanese literature, and
witchcraft, just because they sounded like fun. She has
traveled to Japan and Europe and hopes to return to both in
the future.

She knits and cross-stitches avidly, much to the disgust of
her cat, Smaugu, who wants her undivided attention. He’s
also peeved that she spends so much time writing instead of
petting him. She writes urban fantasy and horror of a
Lovecraftian nature, monsters beyond space and time that
think that humans are the tastiest things in the multiverse.

Felicitas lives in Boston with her beloved husband, known to
all as The Husband, and the aforementioned cat, whom the
husband swears is a demon, even though it’s his fault that
they have the cat. The husband also is worried about
Felicitas’s anime habit, her love for J-Pop music, and her
extensive collection of Yaoi manga and Gundam Wing
doujinshi, which has turned her library into a Very Scary
Place for him.

Visit her blog at http://Iveys_Tales.livejournal.com and e-
mail her at [e-mail].

Find more stories by

F

ELICITAS

I

VEY

at

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REAMSPINNER

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RESS

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Copyright

There’s Something About Spot ©Copyright Felicitas Ivey, 2010

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com
Cover Design by Mara McKennen

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
June 2010

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-504-3