Treasured Prince

by

Yamila Abraham

Cover by Feno

Copyright © 2012 Yaoi Press

All rights reserved. Without limiting the
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This is a work of fiction. Names,
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* * *

On the second day of prince

Alatore’s journey a flying demon dove out
of the sky and snatched him off the back of
his horse. As the monster carried him
away with great sweeps of his black

wings Alatore noticed the dark scales
over his body. He remembered a wraith
he saw illustrated in one of his books that
had the same face. That brought to mind a
description of perverse acts he’d read a
few too many times. He wondered if the
very demon fiend of the stories now held
him. He lamented the prospect of such an
ugly demon lover. Though, how could any
creature live up to his elaborate fantasies?

After daydreaming for several

moments Alatore realized he probably
should have drawn his sword to fight it.
The trees diminished to the size of cotton
balls below him. If he broke free now
he’d drop to his death.

Alatore gave an exasperated sigh.

He loathed how calm he felt. Had his life
truly become so wretched that even this

didn’t excite him? He felt resignation
rather than terror. At least now he didn’t
have to proceed to his cousin’s castle for
the knight training he’d so dreaded.

“Did you faint?” the wraith demon

thing said with a voice that caused scary
reverberations in his middle.

“Nope,”

Alatore

said.

“Just

enjoying the view.”

After a moment of perplexed silence

the demon snorted. “Good, woman.
Hysterics wouldn’t help you, anyway.”

Alatore rolled his eyes. Really?

Even a magical demon thing couldn’t tell
his gender? His angelic face of alabaster
skin framed by gleaming tresses of black
hair caused him to be him mistaken for a
woman almost daily. At the inn outside his
village he let the confusion persist to see

how far men would go. The frequent
rejection once his manhood sprang free
became tedious. Would the wraith drop
him if he cleared up the matter forthwith?
He decided not to test it.

“So…where are we headed?”
“Listen, wench.” The demon had a

sharp, impatient tone. “Your purpose is to
cure my master from his doldrums. Be
obedient and you’ll be inopportuned but a
single night. Lord Vartan has potions that
will bring you to the heights of ecstasy in
his bed. If you’re a virgin he even has a
cream that will renew your hymen in the
morning.

Be

wise

and

submit.

Understood?”

Alatore nodded while considering.

Perhaps this Lord Vartan would better
match his ideal.

A gleaming white castle perched on

an icy mountain top came into view.
Alatore finally felt a tendril of excitement.

“That portcullis…this looks like

something from the Capulance Age.
What’s it made of? Marble?”

The demon lowered his head to

sneer at him. “You concern yourself with
architecture at a time like this? What a
strange woman you are.”

Alatore felt a heated flare of

annoyance. Is it marble or isn’t it? He grit
his teeth and tried to swallow the emotion.
The demon had a point—he probably
should concern himself with more
pressing matters.

He set him down in front of ivory

domed doors that rose tall enough to touch
the clouds above them. Alatore gaped.

Then he realized the massive size of the
monster next to him. His wings folded into
his back and magically transformed into
some manner of ragged black cape. He
placed a large clawed hand on the
prince’s shoulder and ushered him in.

Alatore crossed a vast foyer flanked

by staircases. The wraith brought him up
the left side. He walked down a wide
mezzanine to a seemingly arbitrary room.
The demon pushed him in and closed the
door behind him.

He stood blinking at the threshold of

the large bedchamber. Tables and shelves
of antiquities obscured the tile floor.
Alatore edged his way through one narrow
path to marvel at a three tiered lamp. He
slid his fingers over the golden filigree.

“My word.”

Next to this sat a minx goddess

statuette from the Lynette region. Alatore
gasped and touched its bosom. In the row
beyond this stood a massive vase nearly
twice his height with the frosted glass
technique perfected by master Blannex
Chang.

“Oh my God!”
Alatore looked for a path to get to it.

He nearly leapt out of his skin when a
hand came on his shoulder.

“You find something exciting?”
Alatore looked. Lord Vartan stood

half a foot taller than him, but had a much
broader frame. Alatore noted his pointed
ears and ashen skin and realized at once
he wasn’t human. With radiant long blond
hair, dense muscles, and an elegant tattoo
tracing over his shirtless body he suddenly

became Alatore’s new ideal. The demon’s
dark eyes captivated him. The way he
loomed over him made Alatore’s stomach
feel as though it dropped. At the same time
he saw a spark of intelligence in the
somber face that was eerily compelling. It
took effort for Alatore to look away long
enough to compose a sentence.

“Is that one of the seven minx

goddesses?”

Vartan turned to where he pointed

slowly. “You’re…familiar?”

Giddiness overtook Alatore’s fear.

“My God, yes! I read the seven allegories
about a thousand times. That looks just
like the visage of Criana.”

“That’s exactly what it is.” A touch

of excitement betrayed the demon’s icy
façade. “It’s the original casting from

7,000 years ago. The very one forged in
the Vultic cavern.”

Alatore covered his mouth with both

hands. He felt like crying. He’d never
known such overwhelming joy. If he’d
been more comfortable around Vartan he
would have hopped up and down.

The demon led him further down the

path. “If you’re a fan of Lynette
antiquities, then take a look at this…”

“I’m a fan of Lynette, Capulance,

Duran, Veevoff, Mangulsance—“

Vartan looked back with his brow

raised in interest. “Veevoff? Really?”

“Veevoff isn’t entirely obscene.”
Vartan spoke over him. “I agree.”
“There’s some educational verses.

Every free second I have I’m devouring
another book, though. I can’t believe what

I’m seeing here. It’s like a museum of
everything that’s ever fascinated me.”

The demon smiled. The way his

face creased told Alatore this didn’t
happen often. Vartan took his hand to lead
him further.

“Nagog has outdone himself. I

thought he was going to bring me some
random wench. I didn’t expect anyone as
bright as you.”

Vartan gave him haphazard tour

down the aisle. He headed for the other
Lynette antiquity, but became side tracked
by a dozen objects along the way. Alatore
couldn’t help but interrupt him whenever
he saw something that made his heart sing.
After an hour he felt as comfortable with
Vartan as with an old friend. He even
made the demon laugh for a few scant

seconds. They exited the aisle to a large
circular bed partly hidden by flowing
draperies. Alatore became enraptured by
the brocade.

“Is this native Banshaw weaving?”
Vartan wrapped an arm around his

waist and pulled him against his body.
Alatore froze with shock. The demon
locked his dark gaze on him.

“I’m keeping you.”
He brought a hand to the back of

Alatore’s head and kissed him.

The prince’s eyes widened. He felt

his alarm should have lasted longer than it
did. Nagog (his demon kidnapper) had
warned him of this eventuality from the
very start. The threat remained in the back
of his head all through Vartan’s tour.

The prince hesitated long enough for

Vartan to deepen the kiss. He pressed
their bodies together. Alatore flinched, but
still didn’t get on with his requisite
resistance. After fantasizing about scenes
like this it was hard not to cave to the
reality. Something felt right when it
shouldn’t have. Vartan smelled good. The
power behind his touch had a confidence
that extinguished protest. Alatore’s chest
grew warm and he felt a flutter in his
belly. Worst of all he grew tired—
weakened the way he had when he kissed
Davide, his first crush, at the winter
solstice. That same spark hit him now. It
wasn’t love, but it was that silly idiot
feeling that indicated love might be
possible. They were probably compatible
horoscope

signs.

Their

Mortan

Bloodstones probably glowed when they

were beside each other. If they tried to
cross the lovers’ bridge of Raltidly…

Well, Vartan pushed him back onto

the bed, so he should probably do
something.

Alatore broke the kiss and turned

his head away. He didn’t know if he could
find words if he gazed into the demon’s
eyes.

“I’m a man.”
“I figured that out after ten minutes.

I’ve decided not to care.”

He steered Alatore’s chin back

toward him and resumed kissing. This
time he moved his hands beneath his
cloak. Deft fingers searched over his
body. Alatore’s face bore distress. His
stomach felt so fluttery. Every pleasant
touch sapped his strength further.

Vartan threw off Alatore’s cloak

and then slid up his tunic. The prince
grabbed his hand.

“Erm…wait.”
“Nagog

got

me

primed

for

lovemaking. Just endure it tonight and then
I’ll court you properly.”

This sounded reasonable enough.

He still felt it behooved him to resist.
“That’s not how it works.”

Vartan dove his hand into Alatore’s

pants.

“Ahh!”
The demon’s fingers curled beneath

his balls. He massaged against a riotously
sensitive place. His palm rubbed gently
over his testicles. Vartan stared into his
eyes as he fondled him. Alatore’s breath
caught.

“Ngh!”
His cock hardened. He tried to

grasp Vartan’s wrist, but his hand lost all
strength. His eyes squeezed closed.
Vartan’s deft fingers gave his cock and
asshole an ecstatic throb. How did he find
that spot? The sweet pulses of ecstasy
made him lose all reason. His hand
dropped away. Vartan had him. A lifetime
of particularly debauched pornography
made him an easy lay.

The demon lifted his shirt to attach

his mouth to his nipple.

“Uhhh!”
Alatore’s

stomach

muscles

twitched. The heat in his cock grew
urgent. He bit his bottom lip. Vartan’s
fingertips continued to mash into sweet
pleasure source between his legs. He

moaned in helpless ecstasy.

“Your potions, Lord Vartan.”
Alatore’s eyes opened wide. Nagog

stood before them with a tray of colored
glass bottles. The wraith fixed on his bare
chest.

“You’re not a woman!”
He threw the tray of bottles to the

floor. (It stunned Alatore when they didn’t
shatter). Nagog ripped him up from the
bed by the arm. Vartan’s hands came off
him. The sweet residue of his touch
continued to pulsate between Alatore’s
legs. Vartan grabbed his other arm before
Nagog could pull him away.

“Stop, Nagog! I still want him.”
“You want a man? You’re a

sodomite now?”

The accusation disgusted Alatore.

His erection dissipated.

Vartan’s face grew flush. “At—at

least a man has sexual desire. I had to beg
Tiana to sleep with me, and she never
became aroused. This one responded to
my touch. It was magnificent.”

“Bah! Spare me the revolting

details.”

He jerked Alatore hard enough to

make Vartan lose his grip.

“I’ll find you a wench who isn’t a

shrew!”

Vartan lunged for him. “No!”
Alatore stepped away. He dared not

look into Vartan’s eyes. “Look, he’s right.
I’ve got to go. This was a beautiful dream,
but I’ve got to get to my cousin’s kingdom
for some idiotic knight training.”

Vartan squared his jaw. “It’s

obvious you don’t wish to leave.”

The words uncorked something

within him. Once the tumult started
Alatore couldn’t restrain it. “Of course I
don’t! I love fantasizing through books and
learning about artifacts like all this
wonderful stuff you have here. I’m not a
soldier—and I’m damn sure not a general.
But that’s what I’m supposed to be as the
third born prince. Some witch cursed this
ancestor of mine who was 3

rd

born to lead

some terrible battle or something. Now
every third born prince has to become the
general. I wasn’t going to go through with
it! I told my dad I was going to be a
scholar or a teacher or something. He said
I was making the curse happen.” Copious
tears began to run down his face. The grief
made him angry. “My stupid uncle is such

a horrible general. He can’t even organize
the damn guards for the castle. He let my
mother…he let my mother get kidnapped
last year. And even though we paid the
ransom…”

Alatore covered his face with both

hands. His throat became too choked for
him to speak. For several moments he
shuddered with silent sobs.

“They still…they still killed her.”
Vartan lowered his head.
Alatore snuffled and wiped his nose

on his sleeve. The catharsis made his
shoulders seem lighter. “I made it happen.
It was the stupid curse, but even if it was a
coincidence my dad begged me to replace
my uncle. He knows I excel at everything I
put my mind to. The kingdom will be
ruined if that idiot stays the general.” He

shook his head. How long had he buried
this anguish inside him? “Now I have to
do it. After thinking I could get out of it all
my life—now I have to study violence
instead of love. I don’t want this. I don’t
have any choice!”

“Enough.” Nagog tugged him. “See.

He won’t be yours even if you now prefer
the rod to the cod.”

Alatore sneered. “Ew.”
Nagog ushered him down the

narrow aisle. “I’ll put him back where I
found him unharmed. There’s plenty of
real women I can fetch you instead.”

“Wait!”
Alatore glanced back at him, but

didn’t stop walking. He realized how
appealing Vartan’s muscular body looked.
His face had an almost infinitesimal touch

of pain that made him even more striking.

“Goodbye,” Alatore said past the

lump in his throat. He bade it not just to
Vartan, but to the hope of ever having a
happy existence.

He wept as Nagog flew with him

through the night sky. He’d been
ambivalent before, but now hated his
kidnapper. The event put his plight under
magnification.

“Why did you ever bring me to

him?”

He spat the accusation, but Nagog

seemed oblivious. “You’re not the only
one with a blubbering tale of woe. My
master’s wife of 200 years cuckolded him.
She may have been a shrew—but she stole
his heart. Many of those treasures you saw
were gifts for her. Tiana’s extravagant

whims could never be satisfied. Now that
she’s left him he tries to fill the void she
left with objects. I can scarce get across
his room! It’s time for him to love again.
The castle will be filled to the brim if he
broods much longer. Of course the first
girl he shows an interest in turns out to be
a man! Curse my wretched luck.”

Alatore clucked his tongue and

stopped listening. He found the demon
painfully ignorant.

He thought of Tiana. Vartan

probably loved her because she demanded
those gifts. The items must have made her
happy. It must have pleased him to share
them with her. He could have been the
perfect replacement for his unfaithful
wife. They connected on such a profound
intellectual level in such a short time. It

made his chest hurt to think he’d never see
him again.

When Alatore rode into Chatterly

(his cousin’s kingdom) the desperate faces
of the peasants struck him. It looked as
though a storm had ravaged them recently.
A small orchard of lemon trees had been
toppled. Several men worked together to
rebuild a damaged barn. Things looked
worse outside the castle walls. Dead fowl
and sheep littered one side of the road.
Alatore realized the beasts had been
eviscerated.

King Cecil greeted him personally

as he dismounted in the castle stable. The
short stout king’s normally rosy face
seemed pale.

“Ah…dear cousin Alatore. You’ve

grown into an exquisite young man. But

never mind that! You may have some
supper, but then you must leave straight
away. Your training is canceled.”

Alatore’s eyes brightened. “Wow,

really?” He realized joy made him
inconsiderate. “Wait…how come?”

Cecil posed with an arm across his

forehead. (His trademark had always been
melodramatics). “Oh, it’s such a wretched
situation! Come inside and I’ll tell you
everything.” He led the way down a wide
corridor.

“It

appears

mushroomers

disturbed a dark underworld. Goblins
sprouted from the dirt and ran amuck
through the village. They even burrowed
within the castle walls. The army fought
valiantly, but they’re frightfully strong and
seem impervious to swords. After their
first raid we had seven days of peace, and

then they struck again. There’s naught we
can do but hide as they pillage our
pantries and kidnap our maidens. I thought
that was the worst of it, but look at this.”

Cecil led him up a flight of stairs.

He opened an impressive door to a bed
chamber, and then brought him to the
curtained bed. Alatore gasped when he
drew back the drapery.

His second cousin, prince Adney,

looked as though he were transforming
into a goblin. One arm had turned coal
black. His curled fingers were tipped with
claws. The prince’s chest rose and fell
with rapid breaths. A cloth on his
forehead dripped with sweat.

Cecil wept as he spoke. “My son,

my dear sweet boy…!”

Alatore reached for him. “Cousin

Adney…”

“It seems they infected him with a

goblin disease. He takes their likeness
more and more each day.”

“We can’t let this happen.” Alatore

remembered stealing his first kiss from his
timid 2

nd

cousin when they were children.

His chest grew tight. “Damn it. I would
have loved to just turn around and go
home. Of course it’s not that simple. It’s
never that simple!”

Cecil wiped his tears. “Oh, dear

boy, there’s nothing you can do. You must
go ere you suffer the same fate.”

Alatore closed the drapes so the

tragedy would be out of sight. His
emotions got control of him too often
lately. He needed to get back into the habit
of stifling them.

“You’re probably right. No…you’re

definitely right! What am I thinking?
There’s nothing I can do.”

Cecil sighed. “You must be tired

from your journey. Please have something
to—“

“Well, it’s just that I bet that Vartan

guy might be able to help. But, no, forget
it. I don’t know how to reach him.”

“Lord Vartan? Vartan the fire

master, the potions master, and the thief of
antiquities?”

Alatore looked down at his excited

cousin. “I remember some potions and
there were antiquities all right.”

Cecil clutched his riding cloak.

“His help would be a dream! But he cares
for no one but his bride. His only aim is to
steal our most valued treasures to give her

as gifts. Do you know him? Could you
plead for our cause?”

Alatore swallowed and looked

away from him. The thought of seeing
Vartan again made his heart beat faster.
He wanted a day to prepare. They’d had
so many bits of conversation he wanted to
expand on. The last day of his journey
went fast as he pondered them. The
cauldron of Malecky, for instance, wasn’t
it supposed to have a gnome living in it?
Had he ever seen the gnome? What about
the gnome’s iridescent gem? Did it still…

“Alatore!”
“Oh, right. Sure. If you know how to

reach him I can probably get him to help.”

Cecil clapped his hands together.

“Thank mercy! I knew we’d be saved.”

Other considerations floated around

Alatore’s head. He needed to have a bath
—in perfumed rose water if possible.

The castle got things ready for the

summoning before Alatore’s hair had a
chance to dry. He walked to the throne
room while eating a hunk of pumpernickel.
Cecil shouted to him with a smile.

“There he is! Oh, do walk faster,

Alatore. The goblins are due to strike at
nightfall.”

Being rushed always irritated him.

“Just how do you plan on getting him
here?”

Cecil led him back the same way

he’d just come (further irritating him).
“Lord Vartan is an insidious thief. We
have to hide our treasures from him. That
often fails! You see, he’s cast a spell on
birds and bugs. When they see an item

he’s looking for they fly straight away to
his castle and tell him about it. We
managed to keep a statue of Krittelly.”

Alatore darted his head toward the

short man. “You have a Krittelly artifact?”

They walked outside to the front

court yard. Cecil led him to a table with
an iron box. A dozen guards stood around
it with hands on their swords.

“Yes. It’s locked in here. You must

hold on to it, Alatore. He’ll be here in a
heartbeat to snatch it away. If he leaves
with the treasure before hearing our pleas
this will all be for naught.”

Alatore leant near the case as though

it were bequeathed by angels. “Yeah…
sure. I’ll hold it. Is it…is it one of the
seven stones?”

Cecil’s brow furrowed. “Hmm? I

don’t know. It’s a statue of some kind of
deer thing.”

“A mantisteer! You have a Krittelly

mantisteer?”

Cecil unlocked the front panel. “I do

hope you’ll remain focused, Alatore. This
is a most pivotal situation.”

Alatore had a shudder of ecstasy

when he beheld it. He could scarcely hear
his cousin’s words.

“See! The sky goes black with

birds. They shriek to their brethren who
are closer to his castle, and those will
shriek to the ones even closer. Vartan will
have the message fast. Oh, do hold on to
it, Alatore, dear! He’ll be here in an
instant.”

Alatore hugged the smooth stone

beast around its flanks. He swore it

emitted some magical energy into his
flesh. How could his dull cousin have
such a treasure?

Nothing happened for 15 minutes. A

little drool came out of Alatore’s mouth as
he hugged the precious item. He wiped it
away before anyone could see.

“Look Alatore!”
Alatore heard the roar before he

saw what Cecil pointed at. A black
chariot pulled by four demonic horses
trailed fire through the sky. When it sped
nearer he could see Vartan standing with
the reins in all his glory. Alatore bit his
bottom lip. His heart began to race. It
wasn’t just a great entrance. This had to
be the Chariot of Moonshadow. How
many times had he fantasized about riding
it through the sky, himself? He felt like

swooning.

Vartan landed the chariot with his

eyes fixed on him. He stopped hugging the
statue like an idiot. Their eyes met.
Alatore smiled.

Vartan walked to him and traced his

fingers into his hair. It gave Alatore a
shiver.

“I never got your name.”
“Prince Alatore.”
Vartan he looked at the castle

confused. “You—but I thought it was a
prince Adney here?”

“This isn’t my home. I came here for

that stupid knight training.”

Cecil perked up. “You think it’s

stupid? Oh, Alatore.”

He swallowed. Vartan made him

forget they had an audience.

The demon walked to the statue and

picked it up. “How fortuitous to meet you
again. It must be fate.”

“Uh—fate’s got nothing to do with

it. This is a trap and you’re holding the
bait. Will you help with this goblin
problem they’re having here?”

Vartan frowned at him. Alatore

looked away.

“Yeah…um, so, they’re pillaging on

a regular basis and my favorite cousin is
infected with this goblin disease or
something.”

“You…you dare ask a favor of

me?”

Vartan’s

tone

gave

him

an

enlivening fear. He fixed his large eyes on
the demon, tilted his head, and fluttered
his eyelashes.

“Please?”
The demon stared at him a moment

with parted lips. The pause drew long
enough to make Alatore’s mouth go dry.

“All right,” Vartan said.
Alatore’s brow rose. “You’ll help

them?”

“Yes.” He drew a long breath. “I’m

keeping the statue.”

“Isn’t it amazing!” He walked with

Vartan to load it into the chariot. “But
this…my

God.

The

Chariot

of

Moonshadow. I can’t believe I got to see
it race through the sky. I almost fainted.”

Vartan’s face creased to make the

slight smile Alatore had seen before. “I…
I’m very pleased to see you again.”

Alatore blushed.
Cecil butted his face in between

them. “Well, uh, if you please…it’s
almost nightfall.”

Vartan asked to be taken to the

highest balcony of the castle. Alatore kept
close to him as night fell. He felt fear, but
also confidence in Vartan. When a goblin
burst out of the ground like a fast-
sprouting bean he chewed his fingernails.
The monster stood only four feet tall, but
was thick and wore black armor that
reminded Alatore of a beetle’s carapace.
In moments a full army emerged from the
dirt. He could feel vibrations beneath his
feet harkening more in the castle’s lower
levels.

Vartan raised a hand and rained

fireballs on them. The prince beheld this
with wide eyes. The flames made the top
halves of their bodies collapse. The

melted creatures didn’t even have the
opportunity to scream. Vartan reached
behind him without turning around.
Fireballs shot from his fingers into the
castle. Alatore saw the flames weave
around a shocked guard and go through an
inner doorway. The vibrations below his
feet stopped.

He

became

breathless.

“Amazing...!”

Vartan turned to walk back inside.

“They’re dead. Now show me the sick
prince.”

Alatore felt too stunned to move.

Vartan looked back at him.

“You got rid of them all. It was so

easy for you.”

He nodded as though impatient for

him to get over it.

Alatore looked downward. “You’re

like a god to me.”

Vartan walked back to him and

stroked his hair. “I find you pleasing as
well.”

This caused a twinge of anger. “It’s

not just pleasing. Sure I’m special. I was
born with a big brain in a world full of
dimwits. All I had were books. The books
let me dream about fascinating times and
places and the god-like characters who
lived in them. You’re one of those
characters. No—you’re better than any
character I’ve ever read about. And here
you are, right in front of me. Even touching
me!”

Vartan withdrew his hand. He

looked away in contemplation. Alatore
fretted. The demon probably thought him

sycophantic.

“Strange. Many men have tried to

flatter me. Unlike them, your praise is
actually touching. Perhaps I needed to see
myself from someone else’s eyes.”

“I can’t be telling you anything you

don’t know.”

Vartan sighed.
Alatore realized how defeated the

demon seemed. His self-worth must have
been shattered by the cheating wife. He
wanted to say more, but Vartan’s wounds
couldn’t be healed by scant praise.
Perhaps if they had extensive time
together…?

Vartan examined prince Adney

without touching him. Cecil loomed near
with hopeful eyes.

“I don’t know why they do this, the

goblins. They can breed the same as you
or I, but sometimes chose to propagate
their species by metamorphosis.”

“This is their way of taking a prince

as a trophy,” Alatore said.

Vartan nodded, enlightened.
“Can you save him?”
“Certainly. It’s a complex potion,

but not unattainable. I’ll send my servant
to gather the ingredients. I can have it
ready for you in a month. Perhaps sooner.”

Cecil winced. “A month?”
“He’ll be fine. The metamorphosis

is slow, and he’s a healthy youth. He can
withstand the strain until then.”

“Oh, do promise you’ll deliver the

potion.”

Vartan closed the bed’s curtain. “I

said I would. It’s a simple matter for me.”

“Thank you,” Alatore said. “For

everything.”

“I’m not leaving yet.” Vartan took

his hand. “I would like a comfortable bed
chamber for the night.”

“Of course!” Cecil clapped to a

nearby servant. “Take him to the master
guest suite.”

“You’re coming with me,” Vartan

said to Alatore.

Alatore thought this was obvious.

“Get us some wine,” he said to the
servant.

He let Vartan lock them in the bed

chamber together without fear. The demon
closed in on him. He caressed the side of
Alatore’s face first. When the prince
looked up to meet his gaze he joined their
lips.

Alatore

liked

the

searching

sweetness the kiss first had. Vartan tested
him with a sensual mouth. When he
responded he hugged him close and kissed
deeper. Alatore wrapped his arms around
his broad shoulders. The heady feeling
had returned. Vartan made him melt so
easily. He began to lose the strength to
stay on his feet. The demon broke just
before he turned completely to jelly.

Alatore looked at him while feeling

the heat of a blush on his face. “Tiana was
an idiot.”

Vartan pursed his lips.
“How could anyone leave you?”
“Did Nagog tell you the whole

story?”

Alatore concentrated. “He said you

adored her and lavished her with gifts—

but she still betrayed you.”

Vartan sat at the small table with the

wine decanter. He poured two goblets as
Alatore joined him.

“Tiana was a poor warlock’s

daughter who wanted to live in the luxury
I had. She cast a love spell on me. I knew
this, and yet it didn’t matter. I gave her
everything. I was her willing slave, but
she was never satisfied. She demanded
statues of beautiful goddesses, the more
buxom the better. That should have been a
clue to me. I brought her the onyx statue of
Neferita.”

Alatore blinked. “The emerald-eyed

night statue?”

“It had green jewels in the eyes.

Yes.”

“But…”

Vartan fumed. “Apparently you

know even more than I do. I had no idea it
was only a statue at night, and actually
became

the

goddess

by

day.

I

inadvertently gifted Tiana the very lover
she would leave me for. Neferita flew her
to her palace in the desert. I went to
rescue her, only to have her spit in my
face. She’d tolerated me because she
knew of no woman who could grant her
luxury. Once she found Neferita she had
no further use for me. Our marriage was
over.”

“That’s horrible. Did she take the

love spell off you at least?”

He drained his wine goblet. “I

presume so. Where there was once a
blinding, all-consuming love there is only
emptiness.”

Alatore thought this description

fitting. Just as Nagog said, his wife left a
hole in him that he tries to fill with
objects.

“She makes me sick.”
Vartan sighed. “I was sick, for a

time.” He looked at him. “I’m starting to
feel better.”

Alatore couldn’t resist smiling over

the small triumph.

Vartan took his hand. “Come to bed

with me.”

His blush intensified enough to

make his cheeks feel hot. He avoided the
demon’s eyes when he nodded.

Vartan covered his face with kisses

on the bed. He opened his tunic to place
sensual lips against his neck. Alatore felt
beset by the weariness once again.

Despite all his extensive reading he didn’t
know what to do in response. The larger
figure stripped off his shirt with effortless
grace. Alatore no longer felt the need to
feign resistance. Yielding, utterly, caused
ambrosial warmth inside him.

The demon touched a nipple and he

flinched. This response seemed to
embolden him. He tweaked both between
his thumb and forefinger while staring into
Alatore’s eyes. The prince gasped at the
erotic touch. He bit his bottom lip and then
squirmed. He felt his cock thicken in his
pants.

“Uhh!”
Vartan ceased the torment and leant

down to kiss both tender nubs. He reached
between Alatore’s thighs. His strong hand
pinned his erection against his belly. He

rubbed the fabric of his pants against the
swollen flesh. Alatore’s face construed.
The friction just added intensity to the
rough massage. He knew a wet spot
formed at his slit. Vartan continued with
this torment until he started mewling. His
cock became as sensitized as his abused
nipples. Alatore arched his head back.

“Ahh! Feels so good!”
The demon hissed making Alatore

peek at him.

“That’s right. Let me hear you.”
Alatore liked the dirty talk. It got

him in the mindset of the lurid stories he
read.

Vartan pulled Alatore’s cock out of

his pants. He had an instinct to curl up.
The exposure happened suddenly. Vartan
massaged below his balls with one hand

and yanked his shaft with the other.
Alatore gasped. He became lost in the
sensations once again.

“You smell like rose water.”
“I…uh! I bathed for you.”
“You—prepared for this? Are you a

slut, Alatore?”

He winced. “No! I’m just—you

know—into you.”

Vartan pumped his cock with more

vigor. “I want a slut for my lover. Become
one for me.”

Alatore grit his teeth. “Ahh!”
Becoming what Vartan wanted

would be a dream. He felt as though the
demon ripped away his inhibitions.

Vartan withdrew both his hands.

Alatore looked at him with an anguished
expression. He’d been brought to the

precipice of orgasm and left to suffer on
its edge.

Vartan yanked his pants off. He took

something out of a hidden pocket of his
own pants and then removed them. Alatore
beheld his thickly veined cock with a fat
cap of purple. The porous shine on it—he
wanted to feel it against his tongue.

“Nagog makes me take this with

me.”

Alatore blinked a few times. He

realized Vartan held a small corked glass
bottle.

“This oily potion ensures ecstasy

without pain. He thinks I need it to
deflower maidens.” Vartan dripped the
purple oil on his fingers. “It will break
you in just fine.”

He mashed the greased pads of his

fingers against Alatore’s hole. The prince
gave a staggered gasp. Vartan had
discovered a new sensitive spot. His
fingers caused such a tingly pleasure. He
clenched hole against his will.

“Ohh!”
Vartan eyed him and teased some

more. He circled his fingers over the taut
wrinkles. Alatore’s cock lurched. He
arched his hips to give him access. The
pleasure was enigmatic. It didn’t hasten
his orgasm, but made the state just before
it grow maddening. He clawed the bed to
resist masturbating.

Vartan’s rush to coat his cock in the

oil made Alatore realize he shared in his
desperation. He pressed back his thighs
and perked his member against his hole. A
moment of fear overcame his excitement.

Then the head pried into him, stretching
him frighteningly wide, and there was not
an iota of pain. Only a throb so
magnificent Alatore cried out.

“Ahhhh! Yes!”
“Sexy welp.”
His member pried deeper. Alatore

gazed down at the lewdness between his
splayed legs. His stomach trembled. The
demon’s cock compressed against every
node of pleasure within him. His breathing
became shallow. The throb was in tandem
with the pulse in his cock. He thrashed the
top half of his body sideways.

“Oh…it’s so…umph!”
“I love to hear you.”
“Ahhhhh! Deeper…push it in more.”
Vartan heeded him with grunt. He

could see the demon struggling for control.

His cock penetrated to the root. Alatore
could now hear the throb between his
temples. His flesh tingled. He realized
both inner thighs quivered. It was a
glorious lingering moment without sound
—only ecstasy.

Vartan pulled out half his length and

then thrust back in. The prince orgasmed.

“Ahhh!”
He clutched his shaft after the first

convulsion and yanked furiously. Vartan
stared while continuing to thrust. Three
white rivulets exploded from his slit.

“Ahh! Uhh! Hh! Ngh!”
Alatore felt panicked. Pleasure had

never come on like an attack before. His
cock made a final twitching spasm in his
hand before he let it droop.

“Ohhhhh…!”

Vartan

pushed

into

him

too

vigorously to be ignored. Alatore gazed
up at him while trying to catch his breath.

“You make a pretty spectacle. I’d

like to see that again.”

“You liked…watching me?” He felt

a touch of life returning to his cock.

“Oh yes.”
Vartan pulled out and threw Alatore

onto his stomach. He lifted his waist off
the bed and crammed deep inside him.

“Ohhh! Mph!”
Alatore braced himself against the

hard thrusts. His cock already arched
toward his navel. He would have melted
into a throbbing puddle on the bed if
Vartan didn’t clutch his hips so tightly.
The demon slammed into him hard enough
for their skin to slap.

Then he stopped. His furrowed cock

erupted. Alatore felt the hot seed hit his
sensitized core.

“Ahhh!”
Vartan held him steady and grunted.

“Umph! You’re…perfection!”

“Uh…mmm…I like it! Ahh!”
“Tell me.”
Alatore grew embarrassed, but

forced out the words. “I like…feeling you
come.”

“Urgh!” He gave a final hard thrust.
They collapsed together on the bed.

Alatore enjoyed the heat of Vartan’s form
against him. When he kissed his shoulder
he felt a flutter of joy. The rest of the
world could evaporate out of existence.
All he cared about now was this
wondrous bliss Vartan caused him.

A large hand went onto his ass and

squeezed.

“You have a lovely, sensual shape.”
Alatore swallowed. His round

bottom was one of the reasons he was
constantly mistaken for female.

The demon massaged his buttocks.

Goosepimples rose up on the ticklish
flesh. Vartan let his fingers slip between
his cheeks. He rubbed his throbbing hole.

“I’ll never tire of fucking you.”
“Uh!”
“You’re too sultry.”
“I’m a…horny young buck.”
“An intoxicating temptation.” He

pried his finger inside him.

“Mm, yeah.”
Alatore started to writhe against the

bed. The demon pressed in another finger,

and then both digits found the intense
pleasure spot within him. Vartan crushed
it.

“Ahh! Uhh! Uh!”
Alatore thrashed. He reached a hand

below his belly to rub his cock.

“Let me watch you do that.”
“Ngh—too late!” His body lurched

in helpless spasms. “Uhh! Ahhh!”

Vartan removed his fingers. “Don’t

disobey me. When we’re in bed, I’m
master to you.”

He slapped one side of Alatore’s

ass. His eyes widened. A door had just
opened that Alatore had only fantasized
about before.

“Do you understand me?” He

slapped the other cheek just as hard.

“Yes. Yes, master.”

“Uhhhn.”
Alatore’s heart quickened. That

throaty moan—Vartan was just as devious
as he. His mind raced at the possibilities.
A dozen pornographic manuscripts came
to mind. These were the greatest of his
studies of course, the ones he had to hide
in the pages of more boring texts. He
wanted to weep. He’d just found his soul
mate.

Vartan gave two firm slaps to each

side of his ass. Alatore wondered why the
stinging on his sensitive flesh felt so good.
Part of it seemed to be the pleasure of
submitting. He gave Vartan a whimper
with every strike. The demon ceased
punishing him to give a hard massage.

“Your skin reddens so beautifully.”
“Thank you…master.”

“Mmm. I’ve found my ideal mate.

How incredible.”

A tear rolled down the side of

Alatore’s face.

“Why do you weep?”
“I’m happy. Happy we found each

other.”

Vartan pulled him off his stomach

and into his arms. He locked their mouths
together. Their tongues touched and then
lathed

against

each

other. Alatore

squeezed his muscular shoulders as tight
as he could.

The demon looked into his eyes. “In

the morning we’ll fly back to my castle. I
have so many treasures to share with you.”

Alatore snuffled. Thoughts he didn’t

want to let germinate kept him from
nodding.

Vartan crept under the blankets with

him. He slept with his head in the crook of
his beloved demon lord’s shoulder.

And he dreamed. Oh why did he

dream? He saw his beautiful mother.
Radiant, as always, and with a kind smile.
He ran to her and said several happy
things at once: “I missed you. I love you. I
thought you were dead.” He noticed his
father

in

the

background

weeping

hysterically.

“Dad, what is it? Mom’s alive, dad.

Aren’t you happy?”

His father lifted his tear-streaked

face. “Alatore—how could you?”

The accusation caused a virulent

stab of emotion. He knew he’d done
something horrendous, but had no idea
what.

Alatore’s hand went to his aching

chest. He toppled to the floor with wide
desperate eyes. What had he done?

He woke with a start. His heart still

raced. He became aware of the weight of
Vartan’s arm around him. The demon
stirred.

“Hmm?”
“Nothing,” Alatore whipered.
He heard his breathing return to the

marked rhythms of sleep. Alatore gave a
long anguished sigh. Then a second one.
He’d been thrust back to reality. Nothing
changed from the day he set off on his
journey. He was still burdened with
oppressive obligations.

The thought of telling Vartan

paralyzed him with a new wave of dread.
He bit his bottom lip when a less painful

alternative germinated in his mind. For the
next hour he worked himself free from
Vartan’s embrace with enough finesse not
to wake the demon. Then he walked on
tiptoe to the writing desk in the corner and
composed his cowardly letter. It stated
what he’d told him before: He must
become the general of his army.

He slipped out of the room with

anguish so palpable he felt pain in his
chest. Bury it, he told himself. Swallow it
like you always have before.

Alatore went down icy stone steps

to hide in the catacombs until Vartan was
gone. When he finally emerged his cousin
sought him out in the servants’ kitchen.

“Lord Vartan was most displeased

with you, Alatore. He demanded a chance
to bid you farewell, but you were unable

to be found.”

Alatore forced down a bite of apple

despite having no appetite. He neither
spoke nor looked at the king.

Cecil shrugged and turned to leave

him. “I do hope he’ll come through with
the potion for Adney. I fear you’ve
offended him too greatly.”

The next day he met with the knights

who were meant to train him. Alatore
found the overfed undershaved men
repugnant. All three felt it necessary to
mock his scrawny physique at length
before starting. Alatore struggled to resist
covering his nose from their stench of
stale sweat. When one of the greasy oafs
touched him he jolted as though bitten by a
snake.

“Find some mettle, you quivering

tit-sucker!”

Alatore looked away from them

through the open doors of the stable they
were in. He fixed on the beautiful
mountains in the distance. If only he could
have flown off to one of them.

A second brute deigned to put a

hand on him. Alatore cringed.

“Quit your daydreaming, you streaky

cock wipe!”

“Enough with the insults! Do you

think they make you sound clever? They’re
infantile.”

Alatore saw the fist a second before

it connected with his face. The blow
knocked him into a pile of petrified
manure. Then he felt the red hot pain. His
jaw had moved. When he touched it with a
trembling hand it snapped back into place

causing still more excruciation. He stayed
on the dirt wondering if something else
had been damaged. His entire body
seemed to be quaking.

The men bellowed with laughter.

Alatore squeezed his eyes closed and
tried to block out the nightmarish sound.
He’d never been bullied before—no one
bullied a prince! Then he noticed the new
stench. He’d dropped onto mire. Of
course, it was a fitting metaphor for the
state of his life.

One of the boors yanked him up by

his tunic. He brought him close enough to
his face for Alatore to smell beer.

“Listen, welp. You’re in our mitts

now. Your father wants his pussy willow
son to come home a man, and we got leave
to go about however it fancies us. So shut

your shit-gob.”

He pulled him even closer to make

his final point. Alatore squirmed to avoid
his breath.

“We own you now.”
The knight threw him back onto the

shit igniting a new bout of laughter.
Alatore stayed there to blink a few times.
Swallow it down, he told himself, bury it
deep.

When the goons finally began their

training in earnest Alatore found it
consisted of giving him impossible
physical tasks and then humiliating him for
his failures. They made him run up and
down a steep hill a dozen times while
carrying pails of water, split 100 thick
logs with what seemed to be the world’s
heaviest and dullest broad sword, replace

an oxen in the granary mill turnstile, and
so forth. The only mercy was that the men
were lazy drunkards who often set him to
a task and left him for hours. Their verbal
and physical abuse was always worse
than the labors they assigned him. His
father was wrong to think this would make
him a strong soldier. It just honed his
ability to suppress his emotions.

On a particularly hot summer day he

left his post at the granary mill and hooked
back up the oxen he’d been forced to
replace. The busy milliner smiled and
waved as he abandoned his assigned
torture. He suspected the knights wouldn’t
come for him until dusk when it was
cooler outside. Alatore could sneak in a
swim before then.

The sparkling ripples of the cool

forest pond beckoned to him. He peeled
off his sweaty clothes and let them scatter
over the ground. Alatore hopped into the
water naked from a high bank.

He floated on his back while letting

the sun dry his face. The only down side
to pleasant moments of rest was being
alone with his thoughts. He did his best to
keep his mind blank. The anguish was
always there, but he locked it as deep
inside of him as he could. If he let himself
weep he would never stop.

“Alatore.”
With his ears dunked in the water he

couldn’t be sure if he’d heard a voice. The
knights would never call to him so
pleasantly if they caught him shirking his
labors.

“Alatore, my dear.”

He opened his eyes and used a hand

to shade the sun. Vartan sat on the high
bank staring at him.

“Vartan! Lord Vartan--!”
He bit his bottom lip as he splashed

toward him. Oh no! It felt like the cork
holding in his bottled up emotions had just
burst. His face crumbled into tears.

Vartan reached down to drag his

sodden form from the water. He squeezed
him against his body. By now Alatore
shuddered with heartrending sobs. He
buried his face against the demon’s
powerful chest.

He should have found it strange—

the way Vartan greeted him exactly as he
needed him to. The large figure soothed
his hair while holding him tight. He said
nothing for the long minutes it took

Alatore to regain some composure. Then
they simply embraced. Alatore was wet,
but already warm from the sun. Vartan’s
pants became damp, but he gave no
indication that he cared. The two really
were connected by some mystical bond.
Words had become unnecessary.

Vartan peeled him back and gave

him soft kisses while caressing his face.
The chaste affection caused a flutter in
Alatore’s middle. He was naked and
probably tempted the demon. For now
Vartan only comforted him.

After one of the sweet kisses the

two stared into each others’ eyes. Alatore
still snuffled from his outpour. Vartan
soothed his cheek.

“You’re thinner.”
Alatore winced. Two quiet sobs

fought their way free from his chest. He
clung to Vartan tighter.

“I’m a mess.”
“So this is why you dreaded the

knight training, hmm? It’s really so
terrible?”

“I thought it was just going to be

boring bullshit. I had no idea they’d be
raping my soul every day.”

Vartan gave a sympathetic cluck of

his tongue. His mother used to make the
same sound. He had a momentary wave of
panic wondering if this and other
similarities were what drew him to
Vartan.

“I came to give your cousin the

potion.”

“Oh, Adney.” He felt the spark of

remembrance. “I heard he’d gotten worse.

I can’t live in the castle during training so
I haven’t seen him.”

“He’s healed. He’s already out of

bed.”

“You’re wonderful.”
“I wanted to be angry at you, but

how can I be? You’re just as pathetic as I
am.”

“Never. I’ll always win that

contest.”

Vartan became stern. “No!”
Alatore eyed him.
“I’m pathetic without my beloved. I

discovered you—and yet you deny me
yourself? Even though you’re just as
smitten with me?”

“You know I have this stupid—“
“Yes, I know!”
Alatore closed his eyes. He felt

Vartan’s hand soothing over his hair.

“I know. And I hate it.”
He burrowed himself deeper into

the demon’s embrace. “Make love to me,
master.”

Vartan’s hand swept down to clutch

one of his ass cheeks. “No. I’m not a dog
who humps in the hot dirty grass.”

Alatore’s

bottom

lip

pushed

outward. He didn’t care where they
fucked—as long as they connected.

“Come to my palace with me. I’ll

give you a decent meal and fuck you at my
leisure.”

He felt a pang of grief. “I want to so

badly.”

“So do it. I’ll return you to your

misery tomorrow.”

Alatore’s

eyes

widened.

“R-

really?” He thought a moment and
swallowed. “No. I’d never get away with
it. These three thugs they have training me,
they’d never let me go.”

“To Hell with them.” Vartan rose

and scooped him up in his arms.

Alatore gasped. His naked form

hovered several feet above the ground.

“This is now a kidnapping.” He

carried him out of the forest.

“My clothes!”
“I prefer you nude.”
The proclamation made Alatore’s

cock thicken. Oh yes, own me, master!
But what if someone saw him? Well, he
was being kidnapped against his will to
get fucked. He may as well be seen this
way.

Euphoria grew stronger than this

trepidation. He almost welled with tears.
A night with his beloved master! It almost
made his tortures worth enduring. Then he
saw they were headed for Moonshadow’s
chariot. Alatore squealed.

Vartan gave him a dubious glance.

He covered his mouth with both hands.

Once in the chariot the demon

draped a silvery fleece over him which
Alatore suspected was an important
artifact. Then he stood and took the reins,
looking majestic as always. They jolted
and then sailed into the sky. The torrent of
wind that hit him made him realize
Vartan’s thoughtfulness with the fleece.
He spent more time admiring him than the
beautiful scenery below them.

Vartan flew over the castle into an

ornate courtyard. He hesitated to look

around before exiting the chariot. One
clawed hand ushered Alatore along. He
realized the demon was looking for
Nagog. They zipped into an arcade and
then up the sweeping staircase Alatore
remembered from last time. Once in the
familiar bed chamber Alatore gave a long
sigh of relief. He was back where he
belonged. His worries seemed a million
miles away.

He tried to fix the fleece around his

waist so he wouldn’t have to hold on to it.
Vartan gave a disapproving stare.

“Drop it.”
Alatore obeyed with a smile and a

blush. The demon swept him down an
aisle loaded with numerous treasures he
longed to explore. He halted before a horn
with a rounded tip on an elaborate stand.

The trouble it took him to remove it from
the stand made Alatore realize it had a
purpose. Once free it vibrated furiously
enough to become a blur.

Vartan winked at him. Alatore

gasped and then his blush intensified. He
became giddy.

The tray of potions Nagog brought

last time rested on the foot stand at the
edge of Vartan’s bed. He selected two
bottles. These were tossed on the bed
along with the horn. Vartan seized Alatore
and kissed him.

His eyes closed while in the

demon’s embrace. He clung to his
shoulders. As always his strength seeped
away. His middle became warm. In his
mind’s eye his entire body melted into a
puddle of ecstatic ooze.

Vartan broke the kiss to fix on his

eyes. “You torture me.”

Alatore swallowed.
“Any treasure I want I can get…

except you.”

Vartan

shoved

him

onto

the

mattress. The flash of aggressiveness
made Alatore’s pulse quicken. He licked
his lips.

Vartan picked up a potion and

dripped the familiar goop on his fingers.
“Spread your thighs.”

He sat up near the edge of the bed

and splayed his bent knees. Vartan leant
forward to prop a large pillow behind
him. He reclined back, tilting his pelvis
just enough to reveal his hole. Vartan
crammed a finger into him.

“Uh!”

He felt a jolt of exhilarating pain,

and then the potion erased it. Vartan’s
finger writhed against his sensitive
insides. His cock rose from his balls and
then stiffened. He felt his hole stretch to
accept a second digit. Both fingers curved
to rub the pleasure spot inside him.
Alatore started to squirm.

“Umm! Ngh! That feels good! Uh!”
Vartan gave a shudder of ecstasy.

“You’re such a sensual creature.”

He pulled out the fingers. Alatore

let the air expel from his lungs. He sank
back into the pillow. Vartan now poured
the potion on the buzzing horn. His eyes
widened.

“Oh…oh my word.”
The demon gave a grain of a laugh.
“I’ll come so fast.”

“No you won’t.”
Vartan used one hand to pinch the

top of his balls. Alatore gasped. The
demon’s other hand steered the slick
vibrating horn past the ring of his hole.

Alatore thrashed back his head.

“Ohhh! Ohhh! Ahhhh! Master!” He tore at
the blankets. His insides tickled with
violent pleasure. He started to make short
fast pants. His cock felt like it twitched.
When he looked down between his legs he
could see his shaft making small lurches.

Vartan shoved the horn as deep as it

would go.

“Mmmph! Ohh!”
Alatore pinched his nipples with

both hands. His thighs quaked. The horn
filled every tender area. He felt the
vibrations along the core of his shaft. His

stomach quaked. He needed to climax, but
Vartan’s fingers kept his cock in a
torturous pleasure limbo. Alatore jerked
his hips to try and break free.

“Ngh! Ah! I want to—umph!”
Now his entire body writhed. He

grit his teeth. The intense sensations
continued to assault his insides. He curled
up his body and collapsed back. He could
have orgasmed twice by now.

“Ahh! Master! Please let me come!”
Vartan twisted the horn inside him.

He screamed in ecstasy.

“Ahhhh! Please! Uhh-huh!”
Then it stopped. Alatore opened his

eyes wide. His mind felt so addled it took
him a moment to realize the horn had been
pulled out of him. He looked at Vartan.
The demon had his enormous cock out and

stroked himself. Alatore’s expression
must have seemed desperate. His focus
shifted. He wanted to feel his master’s
cock pounding inside him.

Vartan stopped pinching the top of

his sack. Alatore winced. He thought he’d
erupt, but a hint of restraint had returned.

“Masturbate for me.”
Alatore opened his legs wider. He

already knew he liked having Vartan
watch him. He made the most wanton pose
he could, locked eyes with him, and
started to jack himself.

“Mmm! Ahhh!”
Vartan made an evil smile. “Be a

whore.”

“Mmm…yeah. Watch me come. I’m

so hard.” He arched his hips. “I’m so
close! Ngh! Ahhh!”

“Let go.”
Alatore removed his hand. His face

filled with distress. His cock twinged
with impending orgasm.

He writhed on the bed. “Mm…

but…I’m so close, master.”

“Don’t touch yourself until the heat

has gone done.”

He bit his bottom lip and continued

to squirm. “Ohh! Mmm! Uhh!”

Vartan yanked at his own cock in

front of him. Alatore had to look away or
he’d come without touching himself.

“Mmph! It’s…it’s gone down a

little.”

“Rub it. But don’t come.”
Alatore closed his eyes and

focused. His cock felt raw. Three pumps
and he had to release the pulsating organ.

“Oh!” His chest rose and fell fast.
“Do it again. Don’t come. Rub it.”
“Right…right now?”
“Now.”
“I’m going to—“
“You better not.”
Alatore looked at him and pumped

his swollen cock twice. He released it as
the preorgasmic tickles radiated through
the base of his shaft. Every muscle tensed
as he tried to hold it in.

“Oh—please let me come!”
“No.”
He looked at him through an

anguished face. Vartan’s cock took a dark
red hue as he yanked it.

“Keep going.”
“I’m going to come. It’s so—uhh!

It’s so hot!”

“Masturbate until I tell you to stop.

Don’t come.”

Alatore

gasped.

His

stomach

quivered with ecstasy.

“Do it!”
He took his rigid cock and stroked

as lightly as he could.

“Harder! Pull on it so hard your

balls move. And don’t come.”

Alatore whimpered. “I can’t hold

back anymore!”

“Obey me!”
He fisted his shaft and yanked.

“Ahhh! Uhhh!” Three pumps and his slit
erupted with white. “No!” His cock
convulsed with the most powerful orgasm
of his life. He couldn’t even moan. His
lips parted wide but no sound came out.
He contorted his body with every hot

gush. The spasms seemed to go on
forever. He yanked at his shaft with his
face construed. Finally his balls seized up
and then relaxed. He let his member go
with his sullied hand trembling.

Vartan flipped him over and

penetrated him. His cock plowed into him
to the base then pulled out. He made a
dozen violent thrusts in only a few
seconds while holding his hips tight. Then
his seed flooded into Alatore. He grunted
and his thrusts became stilted.

“Urgh! Sexy little tramp! Mmph!”
Alatore’s head felt like it spun. His

master’s abuse gave him cascades of joy.
They were one, he’d driven him mad, and
he adored that moment. He hugged the bed
beneath him and sighed.

Vartan pulled out slowly. “Ohh.

You’re magnificent.”

Alatore felt like weeping. “Thank

you.”

The demon sat on the edge of the

bed and dragged him over his knee. “But
you disobeyed me.”

He spanked his naked ass in a

rhythmic pattern from left cheek to right. It
amazed Alatore how much this relaxed
him. He lay wilted over Vartan’s lap
flinching with every strike, but also
reveling in them. His stretched hole
contracted through the beating. Then his
cock started to grow thick again. He
clawed at the bed like a placated cat.

“Beat me, master.”
Vartan massaged his stinging ass.

“What did you say?”

Alatore’s eyes widened. He’d

whispered the request without thinking.

“I don’t know why it feels so good.”
He heard the demon expel a long

breath. “You always please me.”

Vartan placed him back on the bed

and pushed a blanket at him. “Cover
yourself.” He pulled a cord hanging from
the ceiling. “I’ll have Nagog get you
clothes. You need to be fed. I owe you a
proper tour of my collection, also.”

Alatore concealed himself with a

bright smile. “I would love that!”

Vartan sighed again, this time with

twinge of woe. “Of course you would.”

He swallowed. Already his lover

thought ahead—to when he’d leave him
again. He forced that thought out of his
mind and tried to enjoy the present.

Alatore had been put on a diet of

bread and water for his training. The
return to a proper court banquet brought
him to tears. He took his fill of pheasant,
porridge, sweet meats, and beer. Then
Alatore brought him to the end of the first
aisle in his massive bed chamber.

“Here, my pet, a casting of the

faerie queen Morla.”

Alatore took the golden statue with

quaking hands. “Stunning! Was she really
this beautiful?”

“The mold was made from her

body.”

“Amazing!”
It took an hour just to explore a few

steps on one side of an aisle. Alatore saw
it was already dark outside. Vartan fumed.

“I’ve shown you so little.”
“What I don’t see this time can be

saved for a future visit.”

The demon glowered at him. “I

don’t want you as a visitor. Don’t you
understand?” He turned away.

Alatore’s heart started to race. He

saw anguish in Vartan’s profile.

“I…need you.”
The pain these words caused inside

him—it was worse than heart break. He
curled inward in agony. One shoulder
hurt, and his vision darkened. The effect
became frightening. Why? Why did he
have to endure this?

He forced his words through tears.

“I need you, too.”

Vartan looked at him. His crying

seemed to trigger the same from his
master. The two moved into an embrace
without any words or cues. Alatore

squeezed him and wept.

Tragedy. The theme of his adult life

continued.

Vartan cleared his throat and broke

from him. “I…want to show you the
Cadence antiquities.”

“Cadence?” He wiped his tears on

the sleeve of the jacket Nagog found him.
“I love that era.”

Vartan gestured for him to go

forward. There was no more talk of regret
that evening. Nagog found him a nightshirt
and delivered it with hot toddies. Alatore
ignored him. His disdain was such a small
trouble in the greater scheme of things.
They drank a toast to the Cadence era and
climbed into bed together.

When the sun infected the room

Alatore found Vartan already awake and

dressed.

“Get up. We’ll breakfast quickly

and be off.”

Alatore frowned. “Oh. All right.”

He felt as though weight were crushing his
insides. Thoughts of the stable, the
miserable tasks, the cruel knights—tension
resumed through his shoulders. He tried to
sigh it away, but towards the end of
breakfast the gloom closed over him. At
least last time he’d left Vartan without a
heart wrenching farewell.

They took off in the chariot at a

blinding speed. Alatore wished the
magical horses went slower. This time he
stared below them at the forests and green
pastures. Every attempt to distract himself
failed.

Until he saw them fly right over

Chatterly. Alatore perked up.

“Master, we passed my cousin’s

castle.”

“I’m taking you to your home

kingdom. Tell me which one it is.”

He swallowed. “It’s Keppersands.

Straight down the western road.”

“Mm. Yes. I’ve seen it on maps.”
“But I have to finish that fucking

idiotic hell training in Chatterly.”

Vartan cursed through his teeth.

“No, damn you.”

Alatore knew he shouldn’t let his

spirits brighten. He couldn’t help but feel
a sliver of hope. And yet, he was still
obliged to argue. “I…have no choice,
master.”

“I’m going to talk to your father.”
Alatore’s jaw dropped. He said

nothing further.

They traveled so speedily that

Keppersands came into view right at that
moment. A pillar of smoke marred the
scene. Alatore rose to stand next to
Vartan. Invaders surrounded all four walls
of the castle. They besieged it with
trebuchets. One of the towers was on fire.
Alatore’s hands went to his mouth.

Vartan slowed the chariot. They

hovered above as armored soldiers
pointed towards them and gasped.

“What is this?”
Alatore gathered his wits. “I—I

don’t know. They look like north men. We
—we have trouble with them robbing
travelers. They’ve never banded together
like this.” Anger flared in his middle.
“Oh! My uncle. He should have had

sentries watching for them. The imbecile!”

“Shall I kill them?”
Alatore pursed his lips. “They…

these aren’t goblins. They’re men.”

Vartan nodded. He raised his hand

then swung his entire arm. Four fireballs
flew from him in different directions.
Each slowly honed in on the trebuchets.
The soldiers raced to escape them. Fire
crashed into the weapons turning them to
scorched craters. The ground shook
enough from the impact to knock most of
the invaders off their feet. Shrieks and
scrambling followed. They abandoned
their encampment and retreated. The flood
of invaders exited the village like a hoard
of cockroaches.

“North men! I knew it. They’re

headed for the north mountains.”

Vartan threw a fireball at the road

behind them. Screams renewed and they
went from a gallop to a sprint.

They lowered into the courtyard

within the castle walls. Several battered
guards came to meet them.

The eldest among them walked to

Vartan. “Thank you. I know not if you
devil or god, but thank you.”

Alatore emerged from the chariot.

“This is my uncle Clement.”

“Alatore!” Clement raced to him.
“Is dad okay?”
“Yes. It’s the villagers who’ve

suffered. Oh—it’s a mess. They took us
completely by surprise. I amazed help
came so fast.”

Alatore shook his head in disgust.

He led Vartan inside.

“That’s why dad wants me to

replace him.”

“Hmph.”
Vartan overtook him in the throne

room.

The

king

looked

confused.

Alatore’s two older brothers flanked him
on either side. When Alatore stepped into
view the color returned to their faces.
Clement came forward. He knelt at the
foot of the throne.

“Angus—this stranger, he came with

Alatore. He drove the north men away!
We’ve won, Angus.”

Alatore’s grey-haired father put a

hand to his chest. “Lord demon, we are in
your debt.” He looked at Alatore. “How
came you to know this demon, son?”

Vartan lifted a hand before Alatore

could answer. He obediently remained

silent.

“I’m Lord Vartan, master of fire and

potions.” He pointed at the king. “You
truly are in my debt. I’m collecting it now.
Your son, Alatore.”

King Angus became horrified. The

two princes gasped.

Alatore’s eyes widened. He took a

hesitant step forward. “Um…I want to go
with him, dad.”

Angus looked at him.
“Please. Please let me.”
The king shook his head. “This is…

well, beside being most disturbing, it’s
simply out of the question. We’ve been
cursed by a witch, Lord Vartan. As the
third-born prince Alatore must become a
general. Yesterday my oracle said Alatore
had shirked his duties, and that ruin would

follow. That very evening these north men
attacked us. So you see—“

“To hell with your oracle, and to

hell with your witch. I have a totem I can
give you that will protect you from any
curse.”

Alatore’s oldest brother piped up.

“We all have duties! Alatore’s been trying
to get out of his for years.”

“Quiet, Madin,” Angus said.
“You need no general. I’ll place

your village under my care. If you’re
attacked again the birds and insects of
your kingdom will alert me and I’ll
dispatch them.”

“Birds and…insects?”
“He can do it, dad. I saw it in

Chatterly. Just send a messenger to ask
cousin Cecil.”

“Alatore is coming with me no

matter what your will. Release the boy
from his ridiculous obligations before you
anger me.”

Madin put his hand on his sword.

“Now look here you—!”

“Dad, please! I don’t want to be a

soldier. I’m so miserable I’ve thought
about taking my own life.”

Silence followed. Alatore stared at

the stone floor. The confession made his
skin writhe with discomfort.

He spoke the truth. That fact caused

sobs to quake up from his middle. He’d
fallen into such a deep pit of despair. It
frightened him.

“This…this is not a decision that

can be made so frivolously,” Angus said.

Alatore

noted

the

touch

of

compassion in his voice. He looked up at
him. Vartan turned on his heel and put a
hand on Alatore’s shoulder to guide him
out.

“Think as long as you want.”
They left the throne room together.
“Angus?” Clement said.
Alatore did not hear his father

respond. He sped his step. He could see
the chariot in front of him. Freedom…
freedom seemed so close. He scampered
in before it was stolen from him. Vartan
lingered in the courtyard.

Hurry, master! Oh please!
He held out a finger. A swallow

perched on it. He brought the bird to his
lips to whisper some command. Alatore
realized what he was doing, but still he
panicked. What if father emerged to call

him back? The noose of obligation could
be thrown around his neck again so easily.

Vartan climbed into the carriage and

took the reins. They launched into the air.
Now Alatore let himself breathed.

“Oh my word…thank you. Thank

you so much.”

Vartan laughed. Alatore loved that

sound. Both of them could know happiness
now. Both of them had their glooms lifted.

“I’ll return alone tomorrow to

deliver the totem.”

Alatore chewed his bottom lip.

“That would be great. Could you…could
you reassure dad a little? Could you tell
him—how happy I am?”

Vartan smiled back at him. “Are you

happy now, my pet?”

Alatore snuffled. Tears spilled over

his cheeks. The emotion was too strong
for him to compose words.

Vartan focused back on the reins.

“You’re my greatest treasure.”

They sailed back to Vartan’s castle

on the mountain. The weight of tragedy
and cursed obligation stayed behind them.
The only prospect before Alatore now
was the love of his master.

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Please enjoy the following preview of

Team Yaoi!

“And don’t let any of those boys get

in your pants,” Amber’s grandmother said
over the phone.

Amber only half listened as she

typed on her computer. “I told you gram,
the boys here are only interested in each
other.”

“Disgraceful!”
Amber tsked. She tried to be patient.

“It’s not disgraceful. You promised to be
more tolerant.”

“I’m tolerant of good honest

homosexuals,

but

those

boys

are

indiscriminant fiends!”

“That’s the culture. I tried to explain

this to you before. There aren’t taboos
about sex or nudity on this planet.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me. I

wish

that

university

wasn’t

so

prestigious.”

Amber looked at the time and

grumbled. “You should be glad I got to
attend here. Now, I’ve got to go! I’ve
got…um…homework.”

Jesse popped her bubbly blond head

into the tiny dorm room. “Let’s go,
Amber! Our booth is all set up!”

“Who was that?”
“That’s my study buddy. Goodbye,

grandma! Love you!” She clicked the
hang-up button fast.

Jesse smiled at her corset, chemise,

and miniskirt. “You look great!”

They darted down an empty

corridor together.

“Who was on the phone?”
“My grandma. She’s the one paying

my crazy huge tuition here. She’s really

judgmental about all the sex stuff though.”

Jesse’s heavily made-up face grew

panicked. “What if she sees you on TV
tonight?”

Amber made a sardonic smile. “Uh,

yeah. I really doubt my grandma will be
watching the Tri-University Sex Wars.”

Jesse gave her typical bubbly laugh.
In moments they were allowed into

the enormous stadium and made their way
past mechanical bulls and padded tables
to the announcers’ booth. Amber took her
seat beside Jesse while the crew adjusted
their sound and lighting. She saw how
good they looked beside each other on the
monitor embedded in her table. Jesse had
big boobs and a curly blond fro; Amber
made the perfect foil beside her with her
straight brown hair and fake glasses.

“Testing, testing,” Amber said into

her microphone.

Jesse grabbed her shoulders and

shook her. “I’m so excited!”

“Chill!” She grabbed the stem of her

microphone. “Testing, one, two.”

“Amber! Tai and Red are competing

against each other tonight!”

Amber’s eyes widened. “Woah,

really? We have to let the audience know
that back story.”

Jesse turned dreamy. “Maybe they’ll

get back together! Wouldn’t it be
awesome?”

All around them crews were putting

the final touches on the different stations
for the events. Padded tables were laid
out in a row. Walls with suspicious holes
in them were secured to the floor.

Frightening bicycles were being tested
and disinfected. Past all this crowds
milled in by the tens of thousands. Amber
saw a lot of Earth-style clothes in the mix.
She smiled. The thought of these sports
spreading to her inhibited home world
was laughable (despite the huge TV
ratings the events always garnered). Many
people held banners for their favorite
athletes. Red and Tai were the most
popular by far.

The noise of the crowd died down

and lighting was shifted from the audience
to the stadium. The producer gave Amber
and Jesse their cue.

“Welcome to Planet Wixie-Plow’s

Tri-University Sex War!” Amber said.

“Tonight PWP University will face

some stiff competition from Lymon

College and Henty Institute!” Jesse turned
to Amber. “What do you think of PWP’s
chances tonight?”

“PWP has the home team advantage.

Nothing’s better for Sex War athletes than
familiar beds. However, Henty Institute is
12 and oh for the season. They’re going to
be a real pain in the ass for PWP.”

“What about Lymon College? They

haven’t won an event all season.”

“Lymon College is fucked.”
A dozen lithe young men wearing

nothing but green tank tops and tennis
shoes ran onto the field from a domed side
entrance. The crowd made a dull cheer.

“Speaking of Lymon College,”

Amber said, “I see the boys have already
made their way out here.”

“Those

green

tanks

are

so

uninspiring. It hides their nipples and
doesn’t enhance their junk.”

“Uh oh, team captain Ziggy already

seems to have a hard-on.”

Jesse looked up from her screen

with binoculars. “Ooo! Well, Ziggy is
known for sucking. He’s also not a very
good athlete.”

“It’s not unusual for the boys to get

excited pretty quick. The two days of
celibacy enforced on athletes prior to
meets is really tough for Wixie-Plow
natives.”

Two Lymon boys rubbed their

bodies together while pouting for the
cameras. A brunette boy sat on the edge of
a table and splayed his legs. Still another
blew kisses to the camera while exposing
his nipples. Ziggy licked his lips and

began to furiously masturbate.

“Lymon starts things right off with

some mind games for their competitors
watching back stage,” Amber said. “This
is more than making up for the boring tank
tops.”

“Uh…I think Ziggy better slow

down. Those facial expressions and loud
moans make me think he’s about to—“

“Ahh! Ohh!”
An air horn blasted and a referee

ran to Ziggy. He threw a yellow flag on
the sullied Astroturf. Gasps of disbelief
rang through the stadium.

Jesse’s jaw dropped open. “Oh for-

-!”

“What a shame! Lymon has just

given one point each to PWP and Henty,
and

Ziggy

is

removed

from

the

competition!”

Student volunteers pulled Ziggy’s

quivering body onto a stretcher and raced
away with him. The other Lymon boys
watched horrified.

“Dang. Looks like the Duke/Lymon

curse is starting already!”

“Remind me what that curse is

again?” Amber said.

“Duke is a Lymon senior who seems

destined to remain a virgin. Yes, he got
blowjobs while competing as a freshman,
dildos as a sophomore, and a vibrator up
his rear as a junior, but he’s never been
able to compete in the man-to-man senior
event. Lymon always ends up with five or
more DQs and are ordered off the field.”

“Wow. Maybe we’ll see his first

time right on this show!”

“Don’t bank on it.”
Across the field twelve tanned

young men jogged out from a domed
enclave. They wore identical calve-skin
chaps, leather vests, snakeskin boots, and
wide brim hats. The muscular boys
stretched out on the grass while flaunting
their exposed round buttocks towards the
cameras.

“Here

are

Henty

Institute’s

Cowboys!”

“The crowd is going wild for Tai!”

Amber raised her voice above the din.

A tall athlete with broad shoulders

and a dour expression lifted off his hat to
wave to the crowd. The cheers magnified.

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