Gods and Monsters

by Sean Michael

  Awake now, and wanting, Grigio met those endless eyes with his own. You woke me.

  I wanted. The Dark Lord moved against him, phallus huge and hot.

  He moaned, arching up against that touch, one hand reaching down to stroke and caress. You could have any touch you desire.

  Yes. I desire yours.

  Grigio nodded, fingers pulling harder at his father's shaft. As you will it. I would wake only for you.

  Nero groaned, taking his mouth fiercely now. The Dark Lord's hands started to move over him, leaving trails of heat along his skin. He opened to Nero's heat, mists growing around them only to be brushed away by his father's hand.

  I want you. Nero's hands slid to his buttocks, squeezing, caressing.

  I am yours. He pushed back into the touch with a moan, offering what he offered so few.

  You are. One of Nero's fingers slid into his body, long and hot and insistent. His own fingers tugged the swollen crown of Nero's phallus, liquid fire staining his fingertips.

  Nero pushed noises of pleasure into Grigio's mouth, into his mind. Two more fingers were pushed into his body, the Dark Lord opening him to Nero's will. Moaning, he began to ride those fingers, to slide happily upon that eternal will and take it within, dreams sparking deep inside.

  You move like one of your smoke demons, my son.

  They know nothing but need and pleasure. It well suits.

  Is that all that you are feeling now, my son? Need and pleasure? Nero's fingers continued moving within him.

  His eyes met pure black. Indeed. Need and pleasure, most Eternal.

  Need, pleasure, triumph, all flashed in the dark eyes and he was bent across a bed of dark silk, the thick heat of the Dark Lord's phallus replacing the agile fingers that had prepared him. Grigio arched, a thousand incubi born upon his cry.

  Nero's purr echoed in the darkness. Then the Dark Lord began to move, impaling him on the thick phallus again and again, so solid and real -- there was no way to mistake this for a dream.

  I feel you. Father. Dark Lord. I feel you. His awareness pushed against Nero's, surrounding it.

  Good. The word was rich with Nero's self-satisfaction and with love for him. His father's tongue was as a serpent's, sliding along his spine, hot and agile.

  Grigio shuddered, stretched. "My Lord..."

  "My son." Nero's answer slithered along his skin.

  He pushed against Nero's heat, their skin spawning dream upon dream where it rubbed.

  "Glorious," murmured Nero, thrusts becoming harder, becoming everything.

  His pleasure spiked, peaked, heat burning away his mist, leaving him bare beneath Nero's eyes. His father's hand reached around his body, grabbing his phallus and squeezing, pulling in time with the great thrusts that rocked him.

  When he came he dissolved, his seed the basis for a lifetime of nightmares, a world's due of dreams. He coalesced on his own bed, Nero hard within him, seeking pleasure. It was an eon, or perhaps only a second, before Nero pushed into him for the last time, filling him with the dark, burning seed that was older than creation.

  Grigio rested quiet upon his bed, mind reaching out to touch his children, his pets. Waking them from dreams.

  Nero kissed his forehead. Until next time, Dreamer.

  Yes, Eternal One. Until you have need of dreams. He stroked Nero's face and faded, called to his duty, to his beloved dreamers.

  ***

  "Does Grigio never grace humans with more than dreams and nightmares? Never himself?" asked Selin.

  "Perhaps that is why he is lonely and bored," suggested Melin.

  Verde laughed and shared a knowing smile with his brother. "Indeed, my children, our dear brother does occasionally dally with those mortals who call on him. But my hunger grows and I would take my fill of you first."

  There were no objections among the ones chosen to winter with him and Marrone; indeed, they were more than eager to taste of the earthy pleasures of their bodies.

  ***

  "Lord Verde?" asked Liska as she lay, sated and pleased beneath Marrone's weight. "Does Lord Grigio not ever consort with his followers as you and Lord Marrone do?"

  "Indeed, he does. In fact, I believe my dear brother knows just such a story." He smiled over at Marrone, the dark eyes warm, his.

  Marrone gave Liska one last touch of his lips and then sat, drawing Verde to him, petting with large, hot hands. "So you wish to know of Grigio's dealings with humankind? Truly you know it every time you sleep, for what are dreams but blessings from our brother? Still, I will tell you a tale of one of Grigio's humans."

  ***

  He opened his eyes, the cool touch of air tinged with incense of allysis and rhotan -- his most favored. The single lamp was shaded and draped with soft cloths and the divan he rested upon was gentle against his long body. Grigio was pleased. The scent of allysis alone was worth awakening from his perpetual dream for a moment, the texture of silk served to sweeten the pot. "Who summons me?"

  There was a gasp of breath and a flash of dark brown eyes before the tall form bent, the man putting his head to the floor. "My Lord Grigio. I am but a simple jeweler, Antonio. It is I who summon you to grant me favor."

  "Indeed?" He tilted his head. "What is so important that you wake the dreaming god?"

  "My beloved, Amatia, I would have her dream of me, so that she may look upon me in her waking hours with love in her heart." The prostrate form shivered. "I would do anything, my Lord of the Dreams, to win her."

  Love. How boring. He yawned, stretching lazily. Still...anything could have promise if properly dreamt.

  "And what is this anything you offer? What have you to tempt me, jeweler?"

  "Jewels, my Lord Morpheus, set in the most beautiful settings I can imagine." A ruby ring was placed in the bowl at his feet. Antonio hesitated and then spoke again. "If it is not enough, I have heard...that some lucky few might find the gods looking favorably upon their person and grant favor for favor. I am not the most beautiful man in Cerone, but I would offer myself to you."

  He snapped his fingers, looking at the ring closely. It suited him not at all, but the Lady Rossa would wear it and be pleased. "Let me see that which you offer me."

  "You mean me?" The man stood, revealing himself to be tall and slender, much as Grigio himself was. The dark hair was not so long though, the carriage that of a young man, still shy. And the jeweler wore far too many clothes.

  With a wave of his hand, the clothes fell away, dissolving like so much smoke. "Tell me your most secret dream, mortal. Intrigue me."

  There was silence for a moment, the man perhaps shocked to be suddenly naked, perhaps shocked to be asked such a question. It mattered not -- if there was no tale, there would be no favor. The brown eyes did not meet his as words began to spill from the pretty mouth. "Many nights the scent of leather has invaded my dreams, the taste of it as I lick the boots of a man whose face I have never seen."

  Interesting. Grigio looked, standing to walk around the mortal, hands like smoke sliding over fear-chilled skin. "One night's dream for your lady in exchange for each night in my service."

  He walked behind the man, peering into the dream that was part nightmare, part desperate desire. With a thought his flowing robes were replaced with the finest leathers -- pants and boots and vest -- and a dove grey blouse. The crop in his hand was stiff, as was the high collar now fastened around his servant's throat. "Beginning tonight. On your knees, mortal. Worship me." A single cut with the crop punctuated his words.

  Antonio yelped and jerked, dropping to his knees. The dark head bent, tongue coming out to lap at his boots.

  Another quick cut and he snapped, "You have not begged the honor to touch my person. Do not forget with whom you dare to bargain." The mortal’s arms were fastened behind his back by bands of lead in punishment.

  A shudder moved through the slender body, Antonio scuttling back. "My Lord, I am sorry."

  "I will allow you that mistake, as you are woefully untrained and unused t
o service. However, it is in your interest to learn quickly." He strode over to the divan, settling himself comfortably, a goblet of fine wine appearing in his hand. "Now, beg me to fulfill your dream."

  "My most exalted Lord Grigio, I beg you to fulfill my dream. I plead to be of service to you." There was a sweet tremor of fear in the mortal's voice.

  He let his eyes trail over the hunched body. "Are you hard, mortal? Do you desire?"

  Another shudder went through Antonio's form. "Yes, my Lord," whispered the mortal.

  "Show me." He drank the nectar of fear and desire in equal amounts -- such lovely things, dreams.

  Trembling, the mortal straightened, eyes still on the ground. Indeed, Antonio did desire, his phallus was flushed dark pink, hard with blood.

  "Come closer." As the man crawled forward, Grigio reached out with the crop, gathering the clear drops of fluid sliding from the slit, a bitter-sweet offering. Then he tilted his head. "Open your mouth."

  Antonio did as he had been bid, shaft jerking. He nodded, pleased, smearing the leather tip over the parted lips. The mortal's tongue slipped out and then suddenly drew back, wide, worried eyes snapping up to meet his.

  "You do learn." Indeed one day these mortals would become as gods themselves. "You may taste the leather 'fore it tastes your skin."

  The sweet tongue came out again, sliding over the tip of the whip. He gave a soft purr, surprisingly aroused by the sight. It had, indeed, been too long since he'd had a pet of his very own. Antonio drew the tip of the whip into his mouth, sucking at the leather, eyes going hot.

  Once the tip was wet, Grigio pulled the crop away, sliding it over the mortal's chest, flicking at peaked nipples, slapping with unerring accuracy. Soft gasps met the flicks, the mortal's eyes going wider, phallus jerking hard.

  "For this night, you belong to me." Another wave of his hand and leather bound the man's need tight. "Your need is mine, you understand?"

  Antonio swallowed and nodded.

  "You have leave to speak, so long as you please me." He began working the hard nipples again, the touches slowly building and swelling the hungry flesh.

  "Y-yes, my Lord." The words were whimpered, a soft moan joining them.

  Once the hard little nubs were marked and raw, he tilted his head. "Where shall the crop kiss next, mortal? Choose wisely."

  Antonio's mouth opened and then closed again, eyes slightly wild. "Where my Lord wills."

  "Such an obedient boy." As a reward he offered the mortal a touch, his long hand cupping the strong jaw for a long moment before the crop licked the man's inner thigh. Antonio nuzzled into his hand and jerked as the whip moved along his flesh. Need and want and that sweet tinge of fear were in the dark brown eyes.

  Again and again he tapped and worked the fine flesh until it glowed as red as the ruby he'd been given and then he began working the leather-clad cock. Antonio's noises filled the air, shouts and cries, whimpers and moans. Even as the mortal shook his head, he begged for more.

  The slaps stopped suddenly, Grigio standing before his mortal, long phallus pushing against the leather lacing. "Service me, Pet. Give me pleasure."

  The muscles in Antonio's arms clenched against their bonds and then his pet leaned forward, tugging at his laces with small, even teeth.

  He did not help, but he did not hinder, which seemed fair enough.

  It was painfully, delightfully slow, Antonio's mouth brushing against his shaft over and over as his pet used his mouth to undo the laces. At last his phallus leapt from its bindings and the mortal gasped, wide-eyed. He did not speak but simply stepped forward, blessing the tip of the mortal's tongue with a drop of his seed.

  Another whimper crossed Antonio's lips. The mortal's sweet mouth opening wide, brown eyes gazing up at him, wanting.

  "Do you want, Pet?"

  "Yes, my Lord, I do."

  "Then you may partake. Pleasure me."

  Antonio moaned, leaning forward to lick at his shaft. He rocked, sliding on that hot, wet tongue, letting the visceral, carnal pleasure fill him. Antonio gasped and then took him into the mortal's warm mouth.

  Oh... Oh, yes. It had been too long.

  His hips began to move, not enough to choke, but enough to keep to mortal off-balance, off-kilter. Moans and whimpers vibrated around his flesh, and Antonio swallowed convulsively each time he pressed against the mortal's throat.

  "Shall I bless you, mortal? With the nectar of the gods? The power of eternal dreams?" His voice was raw, his need strong.

  Antonio made a sound around his phallus, eyes huge, full of need. He stepped back, savoring the need and the ache of unfulfilled desire singing between them. "You have not earned yet privilege yet, mortal."

  Then, just no more than his will, the bands holding his new pet's phallus dissolved as he allowed himself to spray his essence over the smooth chest.

  "Master!" Antonio's eyes flew to his, stricken and full of pleasure at the same time as his pet came all over his boots.

  Ah, excellent. Most fortuitous. Grigio strode over to the divan, relaxing, boots outstretched. "Now, Pet. You may lick them clean."

  Antonio gasped, shaft twitching hard. The mortal whimpered as he crawled on his knees to the divan.

  "Thank you, Master." The words were whispered as Antonio bent to his task.

  He relaxed back into the pillows, idly watching the curved back as it bent to its task. Next time mounted on a wide phallus, he thought, body stretched and needy as the hungry little mouth worked. Perhaps Violo would like to come and watch.

  Oh, yes. It had been too long.

  By the time he was finished, Antonio's eyes were closed, hips moving rhythmically against the air, soft hums of pleasure coming from him.

  The dawn would be approaching and, in truth, he much preferred his pets wanton and needy. He stood, his robes and his pet's clothing returning with a rush, the lead shackles gone. "You have served me well, Pet. Your intended will be given one dream."

  Antonio bowed before him. "Thank you, my Lord Grigio."

  The mortal hesitated a moment. "And...if I should need more than one dream to sway her heart to me?"

  "The agreement stands. One dream for each night in service."

  "Thank you. I shall return. If I have need of more dreams for Amatia, I mean."

  Grigio nodded, not bothering to hide his grin. The mortal would return. There was no other who could quench the thirst for the gods.

  ***

  Verde grinned as his twin finished his tale. Their sweet worshippers writhed together, gasping and rubbing, aroused by the story. Or perhaps it was his beloved's telling of it; his own phallus was great with need and he ached to be filled by his dear Marrone.

  "What happened to Antonio, great Lord?" asked Mikah, cheeks flushed, cock hard and leaking. "Did he win his lady?"

  "His lady?" Liska snorted. "How could she satisfy him after his greatest wish had been fulfilled by a god?"

  Verde nodded, purred. "Such a smart girl. Would you like to hear what happened to Antonio?"

  Their children nodded and Verde leaned back against his twin, smiled up into Marrone's eyes. "Fill me now, beloved brother, and then tell them how the gods fulfill their promises."

  Chapter Three

  Antonio set the incense in the bowl smoking, the scents of allysis and rhotan filling the air, making him instantly hard. It had been three months since he had begged a favor from the Lord Grigio, three months before he could find the courage to again offer himself and his darkest desires to the god in return for another dream to win the fair Amatia's heart.

  Still, his body remembered, just the god's favored scents making him tremble with fear and desire.

  He covered the divan with softest silks in grey tones. He lit candles. He put a gift of his own design, grey stones twisted with black and white onyx to form a collar, in the offering bowl. Unsure and still fearful, he stripped himself of his clothes, wearing only a grey robe.

  He knelt in front of the divan and bent his head. "M
y Lord Grigio," he prayed. "Your humble servant Antonio comes to you on bended knee, begging another night in return for a dream."

  He waited for what seemed days, then an odd ringing filled his ears. The scent of smoke filled his nose, and then his Lord appeared, long, lean body encased in leather, dove grey silk fluttering over the pale chest. "My Pet."

  He trembled with awe. "My Lord Grigio."

  "Yes." Long fingers snapped and the collar popped into those hands. "Oh... What fine work. Is this your hand, Pet?"

  "Yes, my Lord. I was inspired by...your immanence and our last meeting." He trembled, suddenly afraid. He'd dared to presume the god would find such a trinket made by a mere mortal to be acceptable.

  He received a slow, dreamy smile. "You have pleased me, Pet. You have pleased me well."

  Lord Grigio blinked and the collar was gone, a burn around his throat making him gasp simultaneously. He put his hands to his neck, trembling as his fingers encountered raised flesh. Oh... he was marked by his Lord, the collar permanently within his skin. "My Lord..."

  "Yes?" Grigio's eyes were vast, alight with a sweet fire. "It suits you, my mark."

  "I am yours, my Lord. Now all will know that you are my god."

  "Yes." No doubt there. None. His face was brought to the leather-bound bulge. "Thank me, Pet."

  "May I use my hands to open your pants, my Lord?" He trembled with anticipation, mouth opening and surrounding the heat beneath the leather as he waited permission to do more.

  "Very good." His Lord nodded. "You may."

  "Thank you, my Lord," he murmured, body shivering with anticipation. His hands were steady, though, working the ties undone and opening the leather pants.

  Lord Grigio's phallus sprang out, long and hard and dark, the scent alone of his Lord's flesh nearly making him come. His Lord rubbed that hot shaft over his lips, the drop tingling and sharp on his tongue.

  He whimpered, tongue coming out to lick at his lips, gasping as the pure flavor exploded within him, sending pleasure to every part of him.

  "It is an addiction, the seed of gods. Be sure you wish to partake in it." The dreamy, soft voice was a caress, a soft hand.