(The Dark Servant)Midnight Matters

by A. C. Ellas

  Sensing that the prince was near, Rak pulled off the cock and suckled on the balls instead, slowly working them both into his mouth and massaging them with his tongue. Without stopping his steady pumping, Avontos giggled. “How does it feel, Your Highness? I love tea-bagging the slave.”

  “Finish him, slave,” commanded Murson after Rak had spent a quarter hour with the prince’s sac in his mouth and Avontos in his ass. Rak switched back to Jethain’s cock with relief and did his best to bring him off quickly. Now the cool-off worked against him, and Rak was obliged to spend another quarter hour sucking and bobbing before the prince finally climaxed in his mouth.

  Rak swallowed the seed and pulled off. “Thank you, master,” he whispered, almost choking on the words. But Avontos wasn’t done with him. Holding Rak’s balls in a vise-like grip, he inserted his entire hand into Rak’s rear and pumped it slowly. Rak cried out in mingled pain and pleasure, working himself on the invading fist. Avontos’ free hand slid up to Rak’s erect cock and he yanked on it until the slave orgasmed from the pain, his seed spattering across Jisten’s thighs.

  Avontos absorbed the power and first released his grip, and then pulled his fist out with a soft popping sound. Rak moaned in anguish and tried to push himself onto Avontos’ fist even as it was withdrawn. The junior priest laughed and addressed his comment to the flaccid prince. “Your brother is nothing but a sex slave, and all he wants is to be used by strong men. Look at him, Your Highness. He wants my fist back in him, and he’ll do anything we ask to get a cock in there. Slave, you messed the prince’s legs. Clean them.”

  Rak bent down and licked his spilled seed off Jethain’s bare thighs. The prince’s cock stirred when he did this, but Murson intervened before he was forced to pleasure the prince a second time.

  Standing at the foot of the bed, Murson ordered, “On all fours before me, slave, and spread yourself.”

  Remaining on the bed, Rak backed up to the sun priest and spread his legs. He was at the perfect height for Murson and Jethain had the perfect view. Murson sang a hymn to Auranz in his nasal tenor and circled Rak’s hole with his bony index finger, leaving blisters. Rak cried out in pain, his hips rolling in an instinctive effort to relieve the tension of his erection.

  Murson pushed in, his thick, short cock tearing open the blisters. Rak cried out again and pushed back helplessly. Pleasure and pain glazed his eyes as he underwent a false climax, his seed spattering on Jethain’s bared feet. This time Murson absorbed the orgasmic energy and continued his hymn, his voice cracking on the highest notes. He pumped slowly and traced the phoenix on Rak’s back, leaving burn lines.

  Rak’s body worked in counterpoint to Murson’s efforts even though the thick shaft wasn’t quite reaching the place Rak wished it would hit. Murson’s use of Rak was a constant reminder that he wasn’t there for his own pleasure, but his user’s. Murson climaxed and his molten seed shot into Rak.

  Rak cried out, and his own orgasm fed back into Murson along with the power, and another load of seed spattered on Jethain’s feet.

  Murson pulled out and ordered Rak to clean him. Rak turned and did so, licking every fingerwidth of Murson’s cock and balls. After the sun priest tucked himself away, he tied the leash to the bedpost. “Suck his toes clean,” he commanded Rak.

  Rak complied, first licking his seed off, then sucking on the long toes. Murson and Avontos walked out, making no effort to hide their tracks this time. As a parting thought, Murson released his hold on Jethain. Jisten would wake on his own.

  Chapter Ten: Socks, Towels, and Salve

  “Stop!” Jethain screamed. Rak was only too happy to. He slid off the end of the bed and flinched as he realized he could go no further.

  Jethain moaned in disgust as he used the sheets to dry off his toes. Rak’s fingers slid along the leash oddly, unable to really grip it. “Untie me, please,” whispered Rak, glad that Jethain couldn’t see him.

  “Untie you? Untie what?” Jethain continued to scrub his toes. He didn’t look up.

  “I am leashed to your bed. Unless you want me to stay right here indefinitely…” Rak trailed off. Perhaps Jethain did wish that, in vengeance.

  “Ewww, no! Oh, now I see it.” Jethain’s fingers nimbly untied the golden leash.

  Rak tried to slide the slipknot along the leash, but again it refused to let him grip it. He leaned against the foot of the bed. “Please tell me that we will now both pretend that none of this ever happened?”

  Jethain scrubbed his toes harder. “Sun-cursed right.”

  Rak handed up a pair of socks and a towel he found on the floor. Jethain snatched them. He isolated each toe with the towel and rubbed it circumferentially. “You didn’t have to do such a good job. You could have held back,” he grumbled.

  “I did hold back,” Rak said quietly. He stood up and walked over to his clothes. He dressed slowly, wincing now and then as a bruise protested.

  “Scorch it.” Jethain scrubbed his toes harder. “Jisten’s a lucky, lucky man.”

  Rak froze, his wings half flared. “What do you mean by that?” “Everyone knows you want Jisten, and he acts scorched strange around you.” Jethain started drying his other foot.

  Rak ran his hands through his short hair. “I am not worthy of someone as pure as Jisten. He is a Valer, and because of that, he has a racial affixation on my wings. That is all he should be interested in where I am concerned. He is still the Captain of your Guard, and your friend. As I am, I hope, tonight’s events notwithstanding.”

  “Araken, you’re my brother and still my friend,” Jethain ran the towel between each of his toes.

  “I am relieved to hear that.” Rak glanced at Jisten frequently and Jethain not once. The captain was mercifully unconscious still.

  “I know you were forced. Can I have another towel?” Jethain never looked at Rak. “Your saliva is strangely slippery, one isn’t enough.”

  Rak fetched one from the bathroom and handed it over, all without making eye contact even for a split second. “If it is not too much to ask, can you remove this collar? It is spelled to prevent me from touching it. A simple slide leash, and I cannot remove it.”

  “Sure.” Jethain started over on his first foot, the big toe. “Where is it?” “Around my neck,” said Rak patiently. He wondered where Jethain thought it might be.

  The prince finally looked up from his feet and peered at Rak’s neck. “Tiny sucker.” He hooked it with his index finger and pulled it over Rak’s head.

  Rak breathed a sigh of relief as he sensed his power, and his connection to Zotien, flooding back into him.

  “I’ll give this to Forael.” Jethain placed the collar on his side table. “I will make you a mint tonic,” Rak announced once he finished tying his sash. “And a strengthening dose. They purged and bled you again.”

  Jethain slid on his socks. “Yeah, let’s say they did that. And just that.” “Of course,” agreed Rak. He stepped to the side table where an array of herbal medicines were laid out. He mixed the two potions and came back to the bed. “Nasty one first.” He handed Jethain the strengthening dose.

  Jethain took it and chugged it. He still didn’t look at Rak, who handed him the mint tonic next. The prince leaned back in the bed with that one and sipped it, staring at Jisten. “Please check on my captain.”

  Rak padded over to Jisten and knelt beside the cot. He placed two fingers on the Valer’s neck and watched his chest rise and fall. “His pulse is strong and steady, and his breathing is even.”

  “At least they left him alone.” “Thank the night for that mercy,” said Rak fervently. He brushed a strand of hair off Jisten’s cheek. “I treasure his purity.”

  “Do you?” Jethain asked testily. “It is interesting to speak with one so innocent of the cruelty of the world, and so different from me.” The regret in Rak’s heart spilled into his voice.

  “He actively keeps cruelty at bay,” Jethain said and sipped. “At least, in the guard.”

  “He is blessed wi
th the ability to do so. A great deal of that is due to your support, I am sure.”

  “It’s a privilege,” Jethain said. “Having him as my captain is a privilege, too. I think you can understand that, even if few in the palace do.”

  “I do understand that.” Rak stood up. “He will wake soon. Do you want me to leave?” He would understand if Jethain never wanted to look at him ever again.

  “Do you want to leave? I certainly would understand,” Jethain countered. He kept his eyes on Jisten, though.

  “My duty is to protect you. I am sure you will understand when I say that I feel like a total failure.” Rak picked up the dead mastigi and whispered a prayer. White flames flared as the body was consumed.

  “I’m alive,” Jethain said and sipped more tonic. “That’s better than if you weren’t here.”

  Next Rak picked up his pendant and ran the broken chain through his fingers. “You might have been better served if I had not been here this night.”

  Jethain downed the rest of the tonic. He pulled the bed sheets up to his chest. “I wouldn’t be here tonight if not for you. And you’d be home with your family if not for me.” He settled down in the bed. “I cause a lot of trouble. More trouble alive than dead. Just ask Father.”

  Rak touched his shoulder. “It is not your fault. Do not take the blame that belongs to me.” He snatched his hand back a moment later. Jethain wouldn’t want him touching him.

  “I think those sun-cursed sun priests are to blame.” “I am sorry for what happened.” There was a hint of a plea in Rak’s voice. “I pray that you find it in yourself to forgive me. In some matters, I am weak, and the old magics from the Riverlands are easy to use against me.”

  “Riverlands magics?” Jethain looked at him at last. “Slave fires?”

  “Ai,” said Rak shortly.

  Jethain winced. “I’m sorry, brother.” “Not your fault,” replied Rak. A slight motion elsewhere in the room made Rak turn.

  Without getting up, Jisten rubbed his head and asked, “Did I drink too much? Or did someone hit me?”

  “You took a blast from a sun priest,” said Rak, grateful for the interruption. “I was not in time to prevent them from purging the prince.” He moved back to the side table and prepared a headache remedy.

  “Jethain!” Jisten jumped to his feet, then bent over clutching his head. He straightened up and staggered towards the prince’s bed. “Are you all right, my prince?”

  As Jisten went by, Rak handed him the potion. The captain downed it and bent over Jethain. “My prince!” He felt the prince’s forehead and pulse.

  “I’m tired, Jisten. I want your mother’s crepes for breakfast. With extra bacon.”

  “Yes, you can have them both,” Jisten promised.

  Rak settled on the stool in the corner and tried to blend in with the shadows.

  “Thank you,” said Jethain. He smiled and patted Jisten’s hand.

  “The best thing you can do is rest,” Jisten said and tucked in the bed sheets.

  “Mmmhmmm. Just keep my brother away from my feet.” “I promise,” Jisten said, sounding bewildered. “I’ll keep him busy.” He turned on Rak with determination on his features. “Now, for you.”

  “Is your head better?” asked Rak. “Do you want a mint tonic?” “Oh, no,” Jisten wagged his finger, “This isn’t about me. This is about you. If sun priests were in here, then you’re probably worse for wear. Come here.”

  Rak slid off the stool and cast a significant glance towards Jethain. “The prince needs us here for the moment,” Jisten said. “He’s going to sleep. Let me check you for injuries and oil your wings.” He took Rak’s hand, led him over to the cot, sat down, and patted his lap.

  Rak sat down gingerly, trying to make it look natural. Jisten spread his legs a bit, so that Rak could sit where his sore parts would not touch anything. Rak rested his forehead against Jisten’s shoulder. “I am not worthy of your care,” he whispered.

  “Those sun-cursed sun priests were at you if you’re saying that.” Jisten’s growl vibrated through Rak. Without waiting for an answer, Jisten sang the healing chant. He felt in his pocket and unstoppered the oil vial that he found there. He smoothed the oil on Rak’s wings as he sang.

  Jethain turned over in bed and watched. Rak’s wings spread under Jisten’s hands and the oil made them glow in the light, illuminating every welt and bruise, which faded before Jethain’s eyes, the illusion dissolving.

  “Your wings aren’t hurt,” Jisten said.

  “They whipped him. Down there,” said Jethain from the bed, and Rak flushed with shame.

  “Where do you keep your healing salve, S’Rak?” Jisten asked, a muscle jumping in his jaw from anger. His voice dropped to a whisper, “How does he know that?”

  “I am not badly injured,” countered Rak, not looking up. “The prince saw.”

  “I didn’t askhow injured you were,” Jisten replied. “I’ll ask Scorth if I must.” “It is in my quarters,” admitted Rak. “I have not moved my entire kit in here yet.”

  “Message,” Jisten said and Trelo emerged from Rak’s folded back hood. The blue lizard clicked happily as Jisten scribbled on a piece of parchment from a stack on the table by the cot. The mastigi whirred out with the completed note and Jisten said, “I’ll oil your wings while we wait.”

  “Didn’t youjust oil them?” asked Jethain, propping his head on his hand.

  “Not very well,” Jisten said. “It takes two hours for a good oiling.”

  “Oh,” said Jethain, clearly taken aback. “Daily?” “I wish,” Jisten said. “Perhaps once upon a time when the Valers and Loftoni lived together as they were meant to be.”

  “I would not mind it,” said Rak. He was utterly relaxed in Jisten’s lap now, his wings fully extended and draped over the cot. Jisten resumed oiling. The prince yawned and closed his eyes again.

  Tebber walked in a short time later with Trelo on his head and a jar in his hand. The mastigi took wing, landed on Rak, and climbed back into his hood.

  “Thank you, Tebber,” Jisten said. “Please tell Mother that the prince wants crepes and bacon for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir. For you and S’Rak, too?”

  “S’Rak, what do you want for breakfast?”

  “What are crepes?” asked Rak, curious. “Paper thin pancakes,” Jisten said. “Filled with sweet cream, for Jethain, that is. Some prefer berries in season. Others prefer them filled with eggs and ham.”

  “That sounds good. May I try them, too? Just like Jethain’s?”

  “Crepes for all of us,” Jisten said. “Filled with sweet cream.” Tebber grinned. “See you in the morning, sirs.” He handed Jisten the jar before he walked out.

  “Ready for the healing salve, S’Rak?” Rak sighed and glanced at Jethain, who appeared to be sleeping. He stood up and dropped his pants and wrap. Jisten made an angry noise low in his throat but kept it soft so that the prince wouldn’t awaken. Rak studied the floor as Jisten spread cream on the welts. He was erect before Jisten was half finished.

  “You’ll call in defenders so that we can, uhm, have some alone time when all the salve is applied, yes?” Jisten’s lips brushed Rak’s ear.

  “Of course,” whispered Rak, grateful that Jisten was willing, even after…but of course, Jisten didn’t know. He took a deep breath and thanked Zotien that Murson hadn’t made him service Jisten too.

  Jisten’s large hands were as gentle as ever with Rak. His fingers were oily and spread the salve around his hole. “Inside?” Jisten whispered.

  Rak shook his head and turned so Jisten could see the many welts on his manhood. Jisten ran his finger along that instead. Rak shivered, biting back a moan of pleasure.

  “Call in your allies,” Jisten whispered. “A lot of them.” Half a dozen death hounds padded into the room, followed once more by the firemane. Two vranyxia translated in as well, snorting smoke and shaking their smoke manes. Mastigi swirled around them, then around Jethain.

&
nbsp; “I cannot guarantee that the firemane will stay,” Rak warned. “They grow bored easily. But few things will take on a vranyxia. It is sheer luck that they were nearby. They usually shun cities.”

  Jisten stood smoothly, carefully holding Rak so he didn’t touch anything painful. Rak’s wings swept gracefully downward and he balanced easily. The captain carried him into the small, unused servant’s room. He snuck in a few kisses and Rak tried to kiss back, squirming delightfully in Jisten’s hands. “I don’t want to drop you,” Jisten whispered urgently.

  “You would never,” Rak murmured, displaying his trust, but he stilled himself, once more balancing perfectly.

  Jisten toed open the door to the room. He sat on the bed first and lowered Rak carefully to his lap. Rak’s wings cupped about them as they indulged in a long, deep kiss. Jisten set the salve on the night stand. He opened it, again one handed, and scooped some up. He resumed applying it to Rak’s member.

  Rak moaned in pleasure, pushing himself against Jisten’s hand. “I want you.”

  “Steady, let me finish,” Jisten replied.

  Rak took another deep breath and did his best to remain still for Jisten.

  “Did I miss anywhere?” Jisten asked when he had coated all the burns and welts that he could see. Rak shook his head. “Ix, and…thank you.” Jisten oiled his fingers again. “Then, for this.” He entered Rak with them. “Hurt?”

  Rak pushed against Jisten’s fingers with a needy gasp. Jisten kissed him to stop the gasp. Rak broke off the kiss to whisper, “Take me, Captain. Please.”

  Jisten picked Rak up and slid the Loftoni onto his erection after swabbing it quickly with oil. “Once for need, then a second time for love. Agreed?”

  “ Ai.” Rak pushed himself onto Jisten’s shaft, groaning in ecstasy as the man’s cock stretched and filled him so utterly.

  Jisten rolled onto his back, keeping Rak on him. Rak settled back onto Jisten’s shaft and used his knees and hips to work himself on it. Jisten gazed up at Rak’s wings, spread to their twelve foot span. Rak gazed at Jisten’s face, but never directly into his eyes. Jisten stroked what wings he could, pumping his hips in time to Rak’s rhythm.