by Sean Michael
"First blood was spilt in the name of the Dark Lord, your hymn brought high as the ichors of one most innocent and beloved stained their unworthy hands." She snapped her fingers, the white wall reflecting the sight of a band of mortals trampled by sharpened hooves the color of ivory. "Your followers are not welcome within my fields, Nero. They were beneath honor and I will not allow their misguided blasphemy."
"And so you punished them -- why do you bother me with this? You know how the mortal coil bores me, Madame."
"Shall I destroy a thousand of your scaled children and then see if you are bored, my Lord?"
He roared. "You think your glorified horse is worthy of even one of my serpents? It was mortals who killed your precious beast, and it was mortals who paid the price."
"One unicorn, Nero! One perfect beauty for every ten thousand of your slimy beloved children who cannot even face the light!" Her screams shook the bower; her tears were crystalline jewels tinkling upon the marble floor.
"And your beauties would wither and die in my darkness, Madame. They are weak without your hand to guide them. I would not harm a single scale on any of my pets' bodies in the name of your horned horses."
He stepped close, staring her down. "Do not waste your wiles on me, woman. I am immune."
He was shoved backward by the force of her will. "You will offer me the respect I am due, Lord Nero, or you will learn to beware the light."
"You are due no respect when you give none!" His own anger was growing in leaps and bounds. Nothing could infuriate him the way she could.
"None? I deny my Lord nothing! I simply ask that my sacred spaces remain undefiled!" She advanced on him, light and fury made beauty.
"I did not defile them!" He did not back down.
"Your followers did!"
"So take it up with them! I was busy."
She stopped, face going still. "Busy. Indeed. As you wish it, I will take my complaint to your mortals. Forgive me for interrupting."
He blinked and found himself back in his dark home, alone. He growled and called one of his servants to him.
The dark fairy bowed. "My Lord?"
"Bianca is on the warpath. If she kills all my followers, let me know so that I may repay her in kind."
"As you wish, my Lord." With a rustle of black-as-night gossamer wings, his servant was gone.
He picked up a whip and headed to his dungeon. One of his beauties would pay for Bianca's interruption.
***
Nero growled and began his search again.
Someone had heard Lady Bianca's pleas and had hidden his winged mischief maker away.
He had no desire to beg Noctumus' whereabouts from the lady herself -- he was not in the mood to owe her a favor -- but if he could not discover the implet's whereabouts on his own, he would soon have to resort to just that.
Disembodied grey eyes appeared before him, followed slowly by the form of the Dreaming Lord. "Father. It is rumored something dear to you has been lost."
"Indeed, Grigio, it is no rumor."
"One of my succubae brings word that your lost item is trapped in a cage of light and mirrors. It is quite trapped, but I do believe you would be successful in retrieving it, as the one who keeps it is dear to you and quite vexed at having to control it." The voice was dreamy, lost, filled with riddles always.
"So it is your mother who has it? Keeps my black hearted imp in light's bosom?" He growled. What was she trying to do, kill the implet?
"Not at all. Indeed, the one sleeping eternal at our Bright Lady's feet is most dear to the Lady Gialla."
"What? Speak clearly child." Grigio really was the most annoying of his children.
"Truly annoying? Then find your lost toy yourself." One grey eyebrow arched. "Was that clear?"
Then Grigio disappeared in a wisp of smoke.
Nero roared.
He was the father of them all. Without him, there would be nothing. He plucked a succubus from the earth, crushing its life out between his fingers. Then, to be fair, an incubus to join it. He would have Grigio's assistance in this matter.
The thunder of a thousand nightmares set stampeding towards his followers was deafening, the terrified screams more so. Grigio's voice rang out, soft but rich with fury. All things sleep, Nero. All things dream. Stay your hand.
I will stay it, the moment you return and tell me what you know! Let Grigio destroy all his followers -- he would make more. Gods, after all, did not need to sleep or dream.
His snake demons began writhing in fear, moaning softly as Grigio appeared, clothed in smoke, grey eyes cold. I come offering help and you offer insult, then threat. What do your beloved children dream of, Father?
He growled. "I do not care at this moment for any other than Noctumus. I have no patience for your riddles!" Not even his beloved snake demons were above sacrifice. He looked at Grigio. "Please, my son. There has never been another I have cared for so, outside of your mother and yourself."
"He is where I told you he was. My Lady Mother stole Gialla's favorite's mind away, trapped it in a mirror and will not release her until the winged one dies." Grigio's smoke was thick, heavy. Gialla will not release your pet, for her Lynnea is most favored and your cold daughter is fond.
"You did not say that." He pointed out, frowning. "Can you trick Bianca? Make her believe my imp is dead when in fact he only sleeps?"
"I could, but if I were to be discovered, the Lady of Light's fury challenges even your own." Smoky grey eyes grew distant. "Indeed he is tired, your winged imp, and would sleep too deep to be believed alive. Shall I fetch his body for you, Father?"
"Yes, my son. Bring him back to me unharmed."
Grigio nodded and faded so slowly, reappearing with Noctumus in his arms, faded to pale grey. "I believe this is yours."
He whimpered, taking his winged one in his arms. "Can you wake him?"
"Indeed." Grigio bent close. In this, Grigio had no master. "Listen to me, little one. Your beloved Lord has you now and bids you wake for him. Come now, up out of the dreaming, and see him."
Eyes gone almost white opened. "My Dark Lord."
"Noctumus! My dark angel. You are safe now." He kissed his mischievous implet, breathing himself into the slender body.
I owe you, my son. And I will stand beside you against your mother's wrath should her attention turn to you in this matter.
Noctumus darkened with every breath in his arms, wings filling, eyes growing bright. He winked. And Gialla owes us both for the return of her favorite.
Grigio offered him a quiet look, the mists growing deeper. Enjoy your favored, Father.
He nodded at Grigio, sparring his son one last thought before his attention was consumed by Noctumus. He stroked the still-limp wings, turning them black as night wherever he touched.
"My Dark Lord. I dreamt of your kiss." Noctumus curled close, sharp and cool, skin becoming pitch black.
"Did it match the reality?" Nero asked, bending to cover dark lips with his own.
"Never." Those eyes shone, shimmered, his imp's devotion complete.
"Good." He returned their lips together, kissing Noctumus breathless. His imp was shuddering, moaning softly in his arms, lips and eyes and mind offered eagerly.
With a thought he was in his bed, Noctumus spread out beneath him as he showered his most favorite with kisses and touches. The wings were spread wide, his imp's cries eager and rich. He kissed his way down the slender chest, stopping to bring each nipple to hardness, dark nubs that tasted sweet.
Love poured over him -- and damnation to those who dared say the dark children did not know love! They dove beneath it like waves and welcomed it with open arms. He nuzzled the thin ribs with his nose and licked at the sweet navel, slowly making his way toward Noctumus' phallus.
"Oh, my Dark Lord! I am your own. Yours." The sounds were sweet, needy, shocked and wanton.
"Yes, mine." He stroked the slender hips and nuzzled the little balls, teasing his imp before licking his way up the h
ard, dark phallus and taking it into his mouth.
"Oh..." Those dark eyes glowed for him. "Dark Lord! Such honor, such pleasure!"
Your pleasure is mine. He watched the gamin face as he sucked, taking all of Noctumus' shaft into his mouth.
"All... Everything. All of me is yours!" A fiery tear slid from Noctumus' eye, shaft pulsing the pure fire of passion onto his tongue.
Yes. He pushed his hand between Noctumus' legs, beyond the soft balls to tease the little hole with his finger.
The black wings fluttered, legs pulling up and back in offering. "All of me."
He slid his finger into Noctumus, sucking harder on his favorite's phallus. Give me all of your pleasure, he demanded, pushing a second finger in alongside the first.
Anything. The touch to his mind was delicious, a flutter of wings, as was the series of tremors that rocked his impling, the climax offered immediately.
He drank Noctumus' seed down, the taste sweet and bitter at once. The pleasure filled him, made him want. Removing his fingers from the tight entrance, he surged up, plunging into the hot passage. Noctumus cried out, wings spreading, instinctively trying to fly.
He flew with his implet, his own wings spreading dark and wide, carrying them into the dark night sky. Each flap of his wings heralded a thrust into Noctumus' sweet heat.
Beautiful. The word was whispered into his mind, awed and delighted.
He flew until the pleasure was more than he could stand, Noctumus' and his own twisting together until they were the same thing. He came, a brilliant explosion lighting the sky, and then floated back down to his bed, Noctumus held safely in his arms.
Noctumus gave a soft sound, wings fluttering. Home. Thank you, Lord.
"You are most welcome, little one." He settled his implet on his bed, fingers brushing the lovely wings. "Rest now."
He got a nod, wings spreading and arching unconsciously, then Noctumus settled, sound asleep.
He had much to do, much to take care of. A Lady-Wife to seek revenge on, a fine son to recompense. For now though, he wished only to watch this impling sleep. For his dark mischief required the help of his winged pet.
Chapter Five
The eternal night of the sleeping season continued, with Verde and his brother and their sweet devotees warm and happy together. After much loving, they were again gathered around in a circle.
"More stories, my dears?" Verde asked, knowing how they enjoyed hearing them.
"Oh, yes, please," they chorused the words together.
"What tales would you like to hear, sweet ones?"
"We would like to hear of more mortals, such as ourselves," Liska told him, and the others nodded. They had one mind, these children of theirs, when it came to the tales that were shared this winter.
"I think we know a tale or two more that involves interaction between our family members and their followers."
***
Nero was bored.
His wife was busy with some festival to the sun or to mid-summer or something.
His children were all busy fucking their followers or each other. Even Gialla was busy in the pursuit of the perfect picture of lust and was unwilling to spare her father a moment of conversation to ease his boredom.
He was resigned to trolling his temples for entertainment. So far no one had piqued his interest. This last though...the scent of dark need was strong here.
With a thought he took on human form.
A single figure bowed before the altar, blood flowing from a pale hand. Hair as black as his own pooled on the ground, poured over the lean body. Fury and agony filled the room in equal parts. He breathed the emotions in. These humans were frail but they felt deeply.
"Look at your god when you summon him."
A soft gasp sounded and tear-filled eyes, blue as the sky, looked up a him. "My Lord Nero. You are not a dream?" The boy was beautiful in his sorrow, pale and desperate, tremors moving through the slim body.
"Do I look like a dream?" Well, perhaps he did -- he was, after all, the Dark Lord. He stepped closer to the boy, holding out his hand. "Do I feel like a dream?"
One blood-streaked hand reached for him, fingers stroking over his palm, tears spilling over. "My Lord."
Nero took the boy's hand and brought him close, breathing deeply. He dipped his finger in the cut palm and brought it to his mouth, the taste of blood shed in anger and pain so sweet. "There, there, child. Dry your tears -- it wasn't for crying that you called me. Where is the fury you were nursing only moments ago?"
"It lives, my Lord. It lives and grows and rends my flesh until I cannot bear the waiting." Those blue eyes hardened, fury making them ice. "A group of men, they took my sister, my lady-mother, and stole what was not theirs to take, ruining as they went."
He breathed in the boy's anger, making it his own. "And you wish vengeance, my boy? Would you like them dead? Or perhaps you would like to watch me defile them as they have defiled the women you loved."
"I wish them pain, my Lord, and to understand that which sent my lady-mother into the arms of Lord Violo and my sister into the realm of Lord Grigio for eternity." So rich, this pain, so fresh. "I will offer you whatever you ask of me freely, if you will help me avenge my family."
"I can promise you that. But I will need your life in return. Are you ready to serve me for the rest of your days?"
"Anything. Everything." The words rang with truth.
"Very well, we shall seal the bargain with a kiss." He bent, taking the boy's mouth, the taste of anger and pain and vengeance an aphrodisiac.
The boy opened to him with a courage formed of agony, permitted him to drink deep.
He wiped a spot of blood from the boy's cheek as the kiss ended and smiled evilly. "Do you wish to watch?"
"If you will allow it, my Lord." Hard and cold, the boy was delicious, a good bargain, a promising entertainment.
Time to test his new pet's mettle. "Do you want to participate?"
"If I were strong enough, my Lord, I would have stopped them ere they did their damage, but if you lead me, I will follow and bathe in their pain."
He leaned forward and whispered in the boy's ear. "I will hold them down and watch you do to them what they did to your beloved sister and dear mother, yes? Then I will rend them from the inside out and leave them to slowly bleed to death. Will that suit your need for vengeance, dear boy?"
Those ice-cold eyes shone at him. "Yes, my Lord. You honor their pain and I live solely for your will."
"Oh, we will have fun, you and I." He took another kiss, loving the taste on the boy's lips.
He waved a hand bringing them, to his chamber, stripping them both and putting them on the bed with no more than a thought.
"First you will take me. I wish to experience your fury first hand."
"As you will it, my Dark Lord." The boy spread him, unafraid and sure, so intense, phallus heavy and hard as it slammed within him. Oh, such passion, such anger and hate. He would have to gift this one to Rossa when he was done with the boy.
He soaked up the dark emotions, each thrust filling his balls with seed. The boy was sweating and grunting, arms beginning to shake with effort before he was satisfied, seed burning as it landed on his belly.
He stopped the boy and, dipping his fingers in his seed, anointed the pale forehead. "Hence forth you shall be known as Vendetta." Pressing his fingers into the boy's mouth, he allowed Vendetta a taste of his hot essence.
Those ice-eyes flared and crystallized, the boy truly his now, old life left behind.
"Come then, Vendetta, let us take our revenge."
"As you will it, Dark Lord." The boy's voice was rich and black as pitch.
As he took the boy's hand and whisked them to the place of his family's undoing, he thought it would be a while before he grew bored again.
***
Nero was bored. Again.
His pet Noctumus and his avenging boy Vendetta were off wreaking havoc in the North lands.
He'd watch
ed for awhile. But there was only so much havoc one could watch without participating before one got bored. It just wasn't the same if you weren't in the thick of things yourself.
So he was slowly wandering back toward the East. Perhaps Violo would have some entertainment available. His eldest son was such a wonderful pervert.
That was when he found the boy.
Stripped and shorn, tied spread-eagle upon wooden boards with rough ropes -- the boy was bound at wrist and ankle, knee and groin, his own symbol painted in black ink upon the exposed inner thigh.
He purred. Oh...now this wasn't boring. Not boring at all.
He took on his human form and stood in front of the offering. The boy was still, quiet, burns on the skin proving that the bonds had been fought. Resting, then. Waiting for a chance to escape. He reached and slid his hand along one chafed wrist, pressing into the torn skin. A pained growl sounded and then the fight began, pale green eyes flashing at him, body working to be free.
He chuckled. Such fire for so little cause. He bent, whispering in the writhing boy's ear. "Even if you escaped your bonds, you could not escape me."
"I belong to no man. None." Delicious fury, edged with a honeyed desperation.
He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing as thunder in the sky. "I am no man, little boy."
The boy stilled, frowning, growing pale. "I belong to no one. I gave no one cause to do this."
He shrugged. "That is not my problem. Do you know who I am?"
"No." Those eyes flared. "And I will not be drawn into games that I cannot play. We are strangers, magician. I do not know you."
"Oh, but you will, boy. You will learn who your master is and you will learn to love and hate me, to fear and need me. I am no magician." He tilted his head, hand touching the leaking phallus, bound along with the balls, terribly red. "Perhaps I am a magician after all, but I assure you my magic is not merely illusion." He brought his wet fingertips to the boy’s lips, painting them with the clear liquid.
"What...what do you want of me?" The pink tongue darted out, disappearing immediately.
