Authors: Scarlet Hyacinth
The other dragons continued their journey, but Hash and Chek stopped. They seemed to communicate silently to their father, and then the dragon elder gave them a sort of nod and gestured for them to go.
After saying goodbye to Ogash’Dral, Hash and Chek turned away from the coven and started to fly back toward the plague lands. It was strange to journey like this, but Owen felt safe and comfortable on Hash’s back.
On occasion, whispers of conversation reached his ears but didn’t really process. He was too happy, too ecstatic that, against all odds, his men had managed to defeat such a strong foe.
Reaching the plague lands reminded him of the consequences of the crystal’s existence but also of the hope for a better tomorrow. The dark clouds still lingered, heavy and thick, but they seemed less threatening than when Owen had seen them last.
At last, they reached Anethone and landed in the courtyard of the palace. A flurry of activity surrounded them almost instantly. Yane’s mother, Queen Tarah, met them at the entryway. She didn’t look surprised at seeing them, but she could not disguise her relief.
“Welcome home, Yanentah.”
Yane’s sister came rushing out of the palace and hugged him with enthusiasm. Yane seemed gobsmacked at the warm reception, and Owen himself wondered at the sudden affection Yane’s family showed for his lover. He’d already learned about the horrible treatment Yane had received simply for being different.
Whether the queen had a special interest in keeping Yane close or not, Owen found that it didn’t much matter, at least not then. Yane made their excuses and dragged the five of them to his quarters. Owen had no idea how they managed to reach the room, but before he knew it, the door closed behind them and Yane was tearing at his clothes. Alcharr, Sassaki, and Hash joined in, and in mere seconds, Owen ended up naked in the middle of Yane’s chamber.
Kyllian crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door, the heat in his eyes the only thing betraying the passion and desire beneath the nonchalant demeanor. He nodded appreciatively. “I do believe I made you a promise, little human,” he said.
Owen shuddered, the memory of Alcharr’s orgasm at the wizard’s hands still powerful in his hands. “You want it, don’t you?” Alcharr whispered in his ear. “You want what he did to me.”
Owen leaned against the eagle and moaned. “Yes. God, yes.”
The next thing Owen knew, a strong gale stole him from Alcharr’s grip, bringing him to stand in the center of the room. Invisible bindings of pure energy wrapped around his wrists and brought his arms up, forming a chain that hung from the ceiling.
Kyllian sat on an armchair, sweeping his gaze over Owen’s body as if admiring his handiwork. Owen felt his face flame at the wizard’s scrutiny, acutely aware that he was the only one nude in a room of dressed men.
Kyllian didn’t seem to care about his embarrassment. “Touch him,” he told the other men. “Touch him everywhere. But don’t fuck him, not until I say so.”
It was the only warning Owen had before his lovers descended upon him. Every inch of his skin received full attention. His men licked, sucked, and teased, driving Owen wild with lust. Yane took position at his back, massaging his muscles with warm, wet hands. Sassaki pressed his mouth to Owen’s in a devastating kiss while Hash’s wicked fingers tweaked on his nipples. At the same time, Alcharr knelt in front of him and took Owen’s hard cock in his mouth.
He was completely and utterly at their mercy, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Even without the bindings holding him immobilized, he couldn’t have moved. In fact, he might have fallen without their invisible support. The pleasure coursing through him was simply too intense. His knees turned to jelly and he whimpered into Sassaki’s kiss, unsure of what he’d done to deserve this.
Alcharr rolled Owen’s testicles in his palm, rubbing at the wrinkled sac. Sweet torture exploded over Owen’s skin as his lover’s fingers continued to map his body and tease his taint. He was already so close to coming, and they’d only just begun touching him.
“Don’t come,” Kyllian said in his ear. Owen gasped, having missed the other man’s approach. Sassaki released his mouth, allowing Owen to turn toward Kyllian.
“Yes, Sir,” Owen gasped out.
It came out so naturally it surprised Owen himself. Never once in all the times he’d tried bondage had he felt like this. Never once had he truly believed he could trust the men to not hurt him.
Just like Owen knew he would, Kyllian asked him for a safe word. “Remember,” he added, “at any point if you say this word, I’m going to stop.”
With the delicious suction around his prick, Owen had trouble coming up with the requested word. He figured it would be best to keep it short and simple. That way he’d actually have a chance to remember it even with his lover sucking his brain through his dick. “Red,” he answered.
Kyllian caressed the side of his face in a silent praise. He then went around to stand behind Owen. An odd soft shock seeped through Owen as Kyllian caressed his back with something like a whip or a flogger. “Don’t forget your word, little human.”
“I won’t, Sir,” Owen answered. He closed his eyes, waiting, hoping, and fearing what would come.
He didn’t have to wait for long. The whip—it was a whip, apparently—fell on Owen’s buttocks, sending an electrical current through Owen. He cried out and tried to brace himself against the bindings, but their magical consistency only heightened the pleasure. It was nothing like any spanking or whipping Owen had ever received, and Owen at last understood why none of the Doms he’d been with were enough. Some of them might have been freaks, but the real reason was that all this time, Owen had been waiting for
his
Dom, the one made for him, Kyllian.
The second strike fell on his upper thighs, and the skill with which Kyllian manipulated the whip made the shocks flow all the way into Owen’s prick. Owen screamed. It hurt so good, and he wanted more. At the same time, he desperately ached to come, but he refused to disappoint Kyllian. More than anything, he yearned to please his master and his lover.
As the blows continued to fall, his reality started to fade. His blood seemed to flow faster through his veins, and the world felt swallowed in cotton. He could only focus on the trails of fire Kyllian’s whip left behind, acknowledging the sweet pleasure-pain with striking clarity. All else became a side thought, unimportant next to his lovers’ presence and the sensual torture Kyllian delivered.
Throughout it all, his men never once ceased touching him. Their lips, mouths, and fingers explored every possible inch of his body while Kyllian continued to whip him. On occasion, their lust for him was tempered by a soft breeze blowing over his flesh, Kyllian’s way of caressing him, of soothing his hurts. But just as the burning left behind by the whip faded under the cool wind, Kyllian struck him again, driving the air of his lungs.
Soon, Owen became delirious from the overload of sensation. He could not take it much longer. If he didn’t come soon, he would surely die. No one could withstand emotions so intense and live through it. His soul was bare in front of his lovers, and he accepted it, like he accepted the gift and the punishment Kyllian delivered. In his heart, he felt his lovers shared the profound perfection of the moment, perhaps not physically, but indirectly, through him.
Owen carried that thought all the way to the moment the whipping stopped. He let out a choked cry of protest, already wanting the pain to return. Instead, two slippery fingers invaded his passage, Yane’s soothing, wet touch. It felt slicker than water, so Owen surmised the nymph must have found lubricant someplace. The dynamics of it hardly mattered, especially when Yane’s touch stimulated his neglected anus and made the abused muscles of his ass burn. When Yane hit his prostate, he bit his lip so hard he tasted blood in his mouth.
“Does it feel good, little human?” Kyllian asked.
This time, Owen really could not reply. He just whimpered, and his disobedience caused Yane to remove his fingers, probably by Kyllian’s order. “Answer the question, little human,” Kyllian purred. “I don’t like repeating myself.”
Just then, Alcharr increased the pace of his suction on Owen’s dick and Sassaki started nibbling on his ear. Hash knelt next to Alcharr and bit down on Owen’s hip, as if intent to drive him wilder. It was by a strange miracle that Owen found words. “Y–Yes, Sir.”
His effort was rewarded by three fingers invading once again. Owen tried to impale himself on the digits, at the same time wanting more of the wet heat of Alcharr’s mouth, more of Sassaki and Hash’s touch. What did they intend to do to him, kill him with pleasure?
Yane finger-fucked him, stretching him, preparing him for a deeper, stronger penetration. Like before, the soft breeze caressed the skin tortured by the whip, and all the while, Owen waited for the next strike to fall. His ass and thighs were on fire, but he couldn’t care less. He wanted it, God, how he wanted it.
Alas, the blow never came. Instead, Yane removed his fingers from Owen’s ass. Something else prodded at Owen’s opening. For about a second, Owen thought it might be Yane’s cock but quickly dismissed the idea as it began to push inside. It felt like the hilt of a whip, and yet it was so very different. In a way, rather than a whip, it reminded him more of a vibrator, only one that sent shocks of energy through his body.
“And how does that feel, Owen?” Kyllian asked as he thrust the thing deeper inside Owen. “Do you like it?”
Like it?
Like
was such a weak word for the ecstasy he felt. Owen thought that he might very well have a heart attack at the intensity, or perhaps a brain aneurysm. And yet, in spite of everything, his body took what Kyllian offered and asked for more. It was as if the wizard stretched Owen’s every limit, tearing him apart and rebuilding him from scratch.
It was for this reason that Owen found the strength to shout, “Oh, God! Yes, Sir! Yes!”
Kyllian chuckled, and his motions became faster as he fucked Owen with the whip. Everything became a blur as energy sizzled over Owen’s skin. Distantly, he was aware of his own voice begging and of the fact that he shouldn’t be telling his Dom what to do. But at this point, his tenuous control threatened to break, and only through superhuman effort—or rather, through his need to please—did he manage not to come.
Just as he thought he would lose his mind before Kyllian allowed him his orgasm, the wizard removed the whip from his ass. “Come,” he said as he slapped Owen’s ass one last time.
The words triggered an elemental explosion inside Owen. Blindly clutching at the bindings, he found his peak, and his reality turned into a wild rainbow of colors that swallowed him whole and refused to release him. For once, Owen didn’t even think he ever wanted to be free of the amazing pleasure or of his lovers.
Hash took Owen in his arms, holding him through the tremors of his powerful orgasm. Owen was truly beautiful in his pleasure, and Hash ached to claim him, to bind them together as all mates should be.
He and Sassaki had held back and not claimed Owen, not knowing whether they would survive, but now that ceased being a problem. Now, they could let go and take what was theirs.
Hash shared a look with Sassaki, then looked toward Kyllian and the others. They did not need the wizard’s permission to make Owen theirs. It was their right, and they all knew it. But this relationship, as strange as it seemed, had turned into a six-way bond that Hash never expected. And Hash knew they owed it all to Owen. In a way, the human brought them together and made them see how powerful love could truly be, how special life could become if shared with the people they cared about.
Hash and Sassaki received smiles and nods from their lovers. The importance of the moment almost frightened Hash, but their presence anchored him. His dragon roared, demanding to be united with their mate.
Hash carried Owen to the bed, and, as Sassaki joined them, he allowed himself the luxury to caress Owen’s naked skin. His mate was limp and pliant in his arms, courtesy of the amazing orgasm he’d been given. Kyllian seemed to expect this, or perhaps he’d anticipated and planned accordingly. “Fuck him,” he ordered, “both of you.”
Hash gaped, certain that, for once, Kyllian couldn’t possibly be serious. Owen was their mate, yes, but he was also a human. They could hurt him if they weren’t careful.