History of Beauty

by Meraki P. Lyhne

  “One, pick one,” Mother said.

  The sensual one looked up and caught Elakdon staring at him. His eyes darkened, and Elakdon gasped, his cock jumping in excitement.

  “Him,” Mother whispered. “The one who made you react like that, go see if you can have your way with him.”

  “I want to ride him until he loses the sense of self and time and place.”

  “Let’s hope he’ll let you, then.”

  But Elakdon didn’t even factor in being refused as he left Mother’s lap and steered directly to the green-eye whose gaze he never let go. The green-eyed stared in rapt attention until Elakdon stood by his side, put a hand on his cheek, and whispered, “I want to ride you until you scream from pleasure.”

  A groan escaped the green-eye, and he sat back to make room for Elakdon to straddle him. Busy hands tore at Elakdon’s clothes, and the laughter and comments from the ones around them bled into the background music and chatter.

  A finger found his ass and pressed in, and Elakdon groaned loudly.

  “Oh, Cub, why didn’t I feed on you when I arrived starving?”

  A shiver tore through Elakdon. “So you could enjoy me fully, now.”

  The green-eye dove in for a greedy kiss. Elakdon’s body caught fire from lust, and his entire being crumbled under the intensity and relief of finally finding an Incubus who wanted him. He was a fumbling mess, but it was so hot when he finally managed to sink down and impale himself. He almost lost his footing and dropped back against the table, crying out in relief when he managed to stay impaled. Once that was accomplished, he could focus on getting more clothes off the Incubus.

  The desperation and frantic feel to it all was amazing, and the burn on his skin became a pleasant prickling sensation that moved over it and soothed him instead of scorching him.

  “Now that’s a feeding!” someone shouted.

  Something wet hit Elakdon’s neck, but he didn’t care. He had a cock up his ass, and the Incubus groaned beautifully.

  “Come on, Styrk, get up here! Up! That’s gorgeous, by the gods I want someone, too!”

  Elakdon didn’t care who said it, he just felt victorious, and his cock throbbed and leaked pre-cum to trickle down his shaft. But the green-eye stood on whoever’s request, and Elakdon held on for dear life. But the cock slipped out of him anyway while the half-naked green-eye found his place on his back on the table. Elakdon straddled him and steered the cock inside himself again, groaning loudly and shivering when he once again felt full.

  Someone reached across with a horn of mead. Elakdon snatched it and sat forward, grinning at the green-eye he was riding in long and slow grinds of his pelvis. He tipped the horn to pour the mead into the waiting mouth and smiled at the blissful expression.

  “You too, horny little Cub,” someone purred in his ear and took the horn. Someone encircled him in their arms, and Elakdon kept riding the green-eye and leaned his head back and opened his mouth to let whoever pour mead into it, too. He drank greedily and shivered at the cool liquid spilling down his body.

  Someone leaned in to lick it off him, and every sensation on his skin was beautiful and wonderful, and everything traveled to his spine. His balls tingled, his ass tingled, and when someone closed their mouth on a nipple and someone licked his hard cock, he bucked and screamed in an overload of pleasure.

  “Oh, you feel good, Cub, you feel so good!” The green-eye pawed at Elakdon’s ass, thighs, and torso. Elakdon looked at him, finally able to notice his surroundings, and four other Incubi were joining in, licking, nibbling, and kissing them both. But Elakdon’s world diminished to only include the one he was riding. He remembered his goal to make the green-eye forget time, place, and himself.

  Elakdon leaned forward and grabbed his neck. The green-eye gasped and opened his eyes, and he looked ready to sail away in pleasure and forget the chaos around them. But once their gazes locked, it was like Thor himself threw Mjolnir into the longhouse, and sparks flew. The orgasm barreled through Elakdon, and he grabbed the green-eye’s shoulder’s hard and shoved back to meet the cock ramming in his ass.

  A green dose shot from the Incubus’ mouth, making the crowd roar, and the table rocked while Elakdon’s brain clouded over by lust and heat from a dose spreading in his ass. Shouting and groaning and more music, louder laughter, more thrusting up his ass, and it all culminated. He didn’t know what he screamed for, but he felt air leave his throat under pressure. He was so lost in it all that the booming silence and lack of music and laughter and chatter crashed over him as another orgasm ebbed away.

  Hushed voices made it to his ear, and his eyes finally rolled back to their places in his head. He opened his eyes and looked at the stunned green-eye whose cock was still lodged in his ass, but he was now on top, and Elakdon was lying on the table.

  “What’s wrong?” He tried to sit up, and the green-eye stumbled back and onto his knee. He bowed his head, and Elakdon’s brain fought to keep up with the sudden change. He half-turned on the table and looked at Mother. She had the answer to most things. Even she was kneeling, and Elakdon struggled to get off the table to do the same because he apparently missed something. He fell heavily onto the clay floor, and strong hands grabbed him.

  “It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

  He finally managed to get his thoroughly humped body to comply and stood. Mother stood in front of him. But people were kneeling. To whom? He looked around to see what he’d missed.

  “Elakdon!”

  He looked at Mother, and her eyes were soft at wet. “What?” he finally asked, confused. She smiled and turned her head to look at Foldon, and he too was kneeling but grinning at Elakdon.

  “Stand proud, My Prince,” she said, squeezed his arms, and fell to her knee before him.

  The air around him became thin and unbreathable. His brain threw odd and useless information at him like the semen dripping out his ass and down his inner thigh, and the smell of mead spilled on his body, and he had to take a piss.

  Then peace settled along with a strong sense of unity. “Thank you.”

  His voice sounded loud and strange in a room he hadn’t noticed going quiet. One moment, it had been a party, then dominated by the sounds of feeding, and then…nothing but his voice and the fire crackling. From then on, life seemed to bubble back up, and people stood again. Someone even dared break the strange silence with the beat of a drum. Someone hummed a deep baritone, and the voice of the bard chanted louder Nol-Elakdon.

  A chill raced through Elakdon, and he didn’t know what to do, so he followed his instinct. “Mother?”

  She pulled him into her arms and stroked his hair. “That explains your hunger. I didn’t know. I didn’t, I’m sorry.”

  “What?”

  She pulled back, smiling at him. “Your eyes gave it away. When the green-eye lost a dose to you, your eyes turned golden. You finally fed fully, I think. Maybe that’s why your eyes never turned gold with me, but the hunger you’ve been feeling for men…I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

  “Nol?” he asked, even though he knew what the word meant. The singer had even progressed and was making up the hymn as he went along, praising the Prince who revealed himself through feeding at a party and making it quite the party.

  “You are Nol-Elakdon, our ruler.”

  Elakdon looked at Foldon, and he’d never seen a more determined look in his House Brother’s eyes. At the eye-contact, his brother fell to one knee, lowered his head, and raised his sword on two hands. “My Prince, may I offer my loyalty and the strength of my sword to defend you and your Kingdom. May I find honor in service to you and the gods, and may I find peace in knowing my kin remembers my name with pride.”

  Mother stood tall and proud at her son’s words, yet Elakdon had no idea how he should respond to his only friend offering such loyalty. But the tone in his voice awoke something in Elakdon.

  “Be mine.” Yet, he didn’t understand it. A feeling deep inside him governed his voice. Maybe the gods aided hi
m?

  “The birth and Empowerment of Nol-Elakdon shall be spread from my House!” Mother shouted. An explosion of cheers shocked Elakdon back to reality, yet something whispered in the back of his mind, and something insisted that Foldon stayed close. He felt dazed and split and finally grabbed Mother’s arm.

  “No one touches Foldon. Only my dose may course through his body. Only my strength may awaken him to the ranks of Cubi.”

  “You claim him?” she asked, and the pride in her eyes didn’t escape him.

  “Yes.”

  “Say so, loudly,” she whispered.

  Elakdon half-turned and looked at the almost fifty people assembled. “I claim the Untouchable Foldon of Mother’s House. No one may empower him!”

  A collective acknowledgment resounded.

  “But now!” Mother said, clapping her hands before putting them on Elakdon’s shoulders. He looked around, counting purple, green, and blue eyes. “In feast! Everyone may empower our Prince!”

  Chapter Six

  That night was not one he remembered. Mother had told every high ranking Cubus to feed him and until he woke up sore, bruised, full, smiling, high, warm, sticky, and with a terrible thirst, everything was a fog of pleasure and doses and groaning and Incubi and Succubi, and he could have sworn he’d seen the sun at some point.

  He stumbled out of bed and landed on a pelt on wood. There was clay next to his bed—ergo he’d woken up in Mother’s bed. He managed to get to his feet and saw Mother and the green-eye he’d first humped, both fast asleep.

  He’d be quiet. The cock had begun yapping at the prospect of the sun, but he was just something to get used to. It had taken Elakdon less than a week because the three battling here sounded different from the ones at home, and one sounded young and thus like it had a serious cold. Had to hand it to the chick cock, it had stamina and determination.

  Elakdon made it outside and to the well. It was cold, and he stopped halfway to slap some warmth into his body, yet it was refreshing and invigorating.

  “Prince?”

  He spun in surprise of someone talking. Then the word and who’d said it registered. It was the thrall woman. “Yri. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Prince, she’d called him prince. He turned to look at her again, barely recognizing her in the early morning sun. Oh, wow, he felt awful yet wonderfully invigorated. “I’m so thirsty,” he finally managed, and turned to face the well again.

  She ran ahead of him, and by the time he made it to the edge, she handed him a bowl of chilly water. It was far too cold for him to taste anything, and it just numbed his mouth and every patch of skin he spilled onto as he drank greedily. A moment later, he was cold and wanted to go back inside and sit by the hearth.

  “Thank you, Yri.”

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked, and the sorrow he’d spotted on her face the past many weeks was gone.

  He gave her question some thought, and he didn’t feel like his skin was full of thorns or like it was burning. His stomach felt pretty hollow, though. “When was it?”

  “Three days ago.”

  He chuckled. Considering how sore his body felt, he could believe that. “Have I eaten?”

  Yri smiled, nodding. “Mother forced you. You didn’t seem thrilled.” She giggled, and the fact that she was no longer sad around him uplifted his heart.

  “Thank you for this. I’ll see you inside. I have to go see a chicken about an egg.”

  She laughed again.

  Elakdon’s world view had changed to a point where he barely felt like he recognized the road he walked to the henhouse even though he’d walked it many times the past few weeks.

  Three eggs. Not exactly a bountiful trip, but he brought them inside and discovered someone else had collected, too. A whole basket full waited inside. But he brought his bounty to the heath, poked the flames, added wood, and collapsed on the ground close to it. Around him, most were snoring or breathing heavily, yet two were apparently awake and moaning from feeding.

  He could feel every inch of his body. His toes tingled from the dew-covered grass. So did his fingers, and every hair on arms and legs stood out straight, making him hypersensitive to the heat. He loved cold mornings and the feeling of how the fire gave his limbs life again.

  As the warmth of the hearth spread and included his cold limbs, he recognized the needs in his body being met by the fire. Time had eluded him, and now, he was conscious. And a Prince. His first thoughts should have been to the gods.

  He stumbled to his feet and then remembered he had no idea where Foldon slept. Foldon should be there. Oh, man, he’d claimed Foldon as his own. Was he even allowed to do that?

  Mother would know, and Mother had to help him since she had the peord and needed to be the Gydje. She always was. He felt like he was stumbling again, and he hadn’t even made it to his feet. But he managed and made it to the bed.

  “Mother?” He poked her arm gently before stroking it and calling out to her again.

  She cracked an eye. “Ela?” Then she sat. “My Prince?”

  “I should thank the gods,” he whispered.

  She smiled. “Higinn and Muninn have seen what you’ve done for your people. I saw them, I told them, and I called for them to bring my thanks to Odin. Your people have honored the birth of their Prince, and the gods know they are next to be honored, but your people need rest before they thank the gods, or they will be too tired to do so from their hearts.”

  That made sense, and Elakdon sat back.

  “Can’t you sleep anymore?” Mother asked, stroking his hair away from his face.

  “No, I’m hungry. Yri is up.”

  “Then feed from her.”

  “I don’t want humans, Mother. I feel…repulsed. And I’m not hungry for sex.”

  “Finally,” she said, chuckling.

  “I’m not full, either. But I want eggs.”

  She smiled, looking tired.

  “Sleep, Mother, and thank you for everything. I shall find my own way until you have rested.”

  He hopped out of bed and tiptoed back to the hearth, where Yri was making porridge. He handed her the eggs and went to find his clothes.

  Most of the Cubi had planned on leaving way earlier, but the discovery of the birth of a Royal meant they all stayed for the blót and another night of eating, drinking, and feeding.

  As they gathered around the fire, they were more than fifty to form the circle. Mother conducted the blót, and Elakdon stood as her counterpart to call upon the gods. Four in all making up north, south, east, and west, each calling upon a god come and witness their giving thanks.

  He’d drank so much mead that he could barely get more down as the horn traveled the circle, yet he did to honor the toast.

  Upon the round of offering, he didn’t feel he had a possession worthy, so he walked to the fire, took his knife, and cut his palm to bleed into the fire.

  It dawned on him that sacrificing his own blood, then being the blood of his people, then he gave for all of them. That sense of unity he’d longed for finally made sense. Watching his blood drip into the flames strengthened his sense of it and brought him hope.

  Chapter Seven

  “Foldon!” Elakdon ran to his House Brother, who was seeing to the guest’s horses.

  “My Prince.” Foldon dipped his head.

  “When it’s just us, please call me Ela. You’re my friend and House Brother before anything else.”

  “I disagree.” Foldon flashed a grin. “But I’ll call you Ela.”

  “What do you disagree with?”

  “That I’m your friend and House Brother before anything else. I will always be the first to attack your enemies.” Another grin. “Maybe because I’m your friend and brother.”

  The sentiment warmed Elakdon. “Will you still teach me to yield a sword?”

  “Sure. Are you going to go all feeding crazy on me?”

  Elakdon smiled, loving the teasing look in Foldon’s eyes. “Once you’re empowered, sure.”
/>
  “And if I’m for women?”

  “We’ll just have fun, then. You know, sword fights, mead, and humping.” Elakdon chuckled, loving the fact that his friend’s eyes lit up at the prospect.

  Foldon then grew serious. “You need warriors around.”

  “And I have one.” Elakdon slugged his House Brother’s shoulder, playfully, marveling at the muscle on him.

  “Not enough!” Foldon said, remaining serious despite Elakdon’s attempt at playfulness.

  “You’re not the first to tell me, but you are the first to swear me your loyalty.” Elakdon stepped closer to squeeze Foldon’s shoulders. “I’m very honored that it was you.”

  Foldon looked proud.

  In the meantime, Elakdon still wondered about warriors. “I’ll talk to you later. I just had a thought.”

  “Dreamers think a lot, don’t they?”

  Elakdon looked at his brother, who looked pretty contemplative himself. “What do you mean.”

  “I mean, I think it’s a good thing you’re a dreamer if they think a lot. As a King of a people, you need to think a lot. And dream, I guess. On our behalf.”

  “Share your dreams with me tonight, my friend. Share your visions of our Kingdom. Just because I’m a dreamer doesn’t mean I can dream everything.”

  Foldon smiled, nodding, and Elakdon ran off to find Mother chasing something toward the forest with stones and curses. The two Cubs followed—one with a sword the other with a bow and arrow.

  Mother finally returned and walked back toward the house.

  Elakdon saw that there was blood down the side of her dress, and he ran to her. “Mother! What happened?”

  “Fox got a chuck,” she groused.

  Elakdon drew a deep sigh in relief and looked after the Cubs running into the forest. Apparently to kill the intruder. “Did it kill the hen?”

  “No, but it maimed it, so I finished it off, meaning you’re getting chicken for lunch.”

  Elakdon grinned. “Do you have time to talk to me? I need advice.”

  “Advice? I definitely have time to give advice to my young Prince.”