Gods and Monsters

by Sean Michael

  He brought his fingers to his own lips and licked the rest of the liquid from them. Oh, sweet. He'd forgotten, after his own serpents' bitter seed, how sweet mortals could taste. "Want of you?" He shrugged. "I'm bored. You're going to amuse me."

  "A...amuse? Amuse you?" The struggles began again, slower but still desperate.

  "Yes." He sat on the boards next to the boy, reaching out and touching randomly: a soft caress here, a pinch there, a spark to this nipple, a breath of air across the other.

  The boy's muscles really were pretty as they worked against the ropes. And that sweet cock, bound for him in a state of need. He would have to investigate, find out who left him such a perfect gift.

  Later. When the boy no longer amused him.

  "Who are you? Let me free!" The voice was furious, angry, rich with dark passion.

  He leaned over the boy, bringing their mouths together. "Do you really not know?" He pressed their lips together and pushed his tongue in, taking the boy's mouth as he planned to take the spread-eagle body.

  The boy went still, stiff, pale eyes flying wide open as shock rocked him. "Nero."

  He sat back, licking the taste of the boy from his lips. "Indeed. Who were you expecting?"

  "More priests. More angry men. I.... Not you." That shorn head shook. "Not a god."

  He shook his head. "They could not have been angry if they left me such a gift. I shall have to think of a suitable reward. Perhaps you will help." He waved his hand. "After I have had my fill, of course."

  "Fill of what?"

  Oh, such a delight. Could one with a body as beautiful as this boy's really be so innocent? "Why of you, of course."

  "I.... Me? But I...I have not, do not...I have never..." He plucked the truth of it -- a young man holding to Gialla's odd perceptions of chastity, a scholar.

  "How wonderful -- deflowering virgins is a specialty of mine." He sat next to the boy again, idly sliding one finger along the length of the poor, blood-filled phallus. The boy would need to be released soon, ere permanent damage was caused.

  The boy jerked toward his touch, a soft cry filling the night. Hot and smooth, the lad was perfectly edible.

  "Would you like me to release you?" he asked, again tasting the sweet liquid that beaded the tip of that fine phallus, this time lapping at it with his tongue.

  "Yes. Yes, please, L...lord Nero. Please." The boy nodded, body shuddering.

  "As you wish." With a quick movement and a thought, he buried his own thick phallus deep inside the boy, simultaneously unbinding the boy's need.

  The boy's entire body jerked, convulsed with shock, the cry that wanted to push deep trapped in that still-bound chest. Such sweet, tight heat surrounded him. He groaned and started to thrust, burying himself again and again in the sweet boy. Those pale eyes shut, face hiding in one stretched arm. The pulling continued, steady and desperate beneath him.

  He wrapped his hand around the boy's phallus, forcing the orgasm from the virgin body. It came quickly, pouring forth from the abused flesh, hot and rich upon his hand. His own pleasure rolled through, called out by the heat and the scent of the boy's seed. He roared, gracing the boy with his essence.

  The boy grew still, quiet beneath him, eyes still hooded, breath quick and light. He withdrew, wiping the boy's essence on the lovely belly, making it shine in the sunlight. "Now you are mine."

  "What will that mean?" Husky, low, lost -- the boy spoke with the voice of one without hope.

  "It means you belong to a god now. You will come with me to my home, you will learn the ways of my minions and, if you are lucky, of my most loved." He stood and waved a hand, the ropes falling from the lovely body.

  The boy stood, wavering and off-balance, the marks from the ropes raw and red, bright.

  Beautiful.

  He touched each one lightly, burning it in permanently along with his own black mark upon the inside of the boy's thigh.

  The boy -- his boy -- fell to those marked knees, gasping. He stroked the shorn scalp, the boy's hair growing beneath his fingertips. "You shall be known as Bruciato Offrire. I alone will call you Brutus."

  "Yes. Yes, Lord Nero."

  He held out his hand. "Come, Brutus."

  Pale green eyes flashed up at him and then his hand was taken, held. "Yes, my Lord."

  ***

  Melin shivered and pushed close against Verde.

  "What is it, little one?"

  "I'm glad that you and your brother are the ones who found us. Lord Nero seems -- cruel."

  Marrone shook his head. "Not cruel, child. Merely a god. And the ways of gods and of men are not always the same and do not always meld."

  "Like Arancione and poor Valetto," Verde suggested.

  Marrone nodded.

  "Oh, yes -- tell us more of the orange god and poor Valetto."

  "As you wish."

  ***

  Arancione let his new pet Valetto stew for a few days.

  Well...a few weeks.

  Possibly even a few months.

  That might have made up a year. Or two.

  Not more than three, surely.

  But really, the boy needed to learn that one did not call upon a god lightly, that one did not treat an audience with a god lightly. And during the teaching of the lesson, Arancione might have forgotten that he actually had the pet.

  It was during a visit to his dear brother Violo that he remembered, prompted by his Valetto's twin stretched out on Violo's bed, limbs tied to the bedposts, gag keeping the pretty mouth silent. He'd been entranced and then he'd remembered like a flash. He had one of those.

  Back in his own demesnes he waved a hand. "Bring the boy to me," he demanded of his servants.

  "Begging my Lord's pardon," murmured one of the fire-wenches. "But which boy do you mean?"

  "The one with the long curly hair and the sulky mouth who hasn't figured out how to use it for sucking. Or at least hadn't when I first got him." He glared at the girl. "You know! Valetto."

  "Oh! Yes, Lord, right away, Lord."

  Valetto was once again brought before him. At least this time the boy was unclothed. Though he was hardly a boy anymore. Three years had turned the youth into a man, muscles firm and face more mature.

  Oh, that wouldn't do at all! Just because he'd forgotten about the boy didn't mean the boy was allowed to grow up completely on him like that. Really, these humans presumed too much.

  He waved his hand again and the years fell from Valetto, leaving him again at the bare eighteen summers the boy had seen when Arancione had acquired him.

  "Ah, better."

  He offered Valetto a smile and pointed to the ground at his feet. "Please, join me, sit. You see, it isn't that your fully grown form was displeasing, but I would have the boy before I have the man. Those muscles will be well-earned."

  "And earning them working in your dungeons is unacceptable? I will make note of it, my Lord." The voice was harsh, unused as the boy moved gracelessly across the room to sit, became used to his new body, or lack thereof.

  Now he remembered why he'd sent the boy there in the first place!

  "What you earned, working in my dungeons, should have been a modicum of respect, child. Really, I can send you back if you prefer!"

  The boy sighed quietly and shook his head. "No, my Lord. Please forgive me."

  "Oh, you do have manners. I was beginning to wonder."

  The boy stayed silent, still as a marble statue, waiting his will.

  He waved away his robes and slid his fingers through the lovely black curls. "Are you ready to pleasure me, Valetto?"

  "Yes, my Lord. As you will it." Valetto rose up upon his knees, beautiful, regaining his grace. "Do you wish my mouth or my body, Bright Lord?"

  "And you have learned a thing or two in my dungeons. Excellent." He pointed to his phallus. "Let us see what that pretty little mouth can do."

  The little prince leaned forward, curls falling over the thin face as his shaft was taken into wet heat. He pushed the curls
back, moaning softly as he watched his phallus disappear between the sweet red lips.

  Valetto took him deep, the motions of that practiced tongue delightful, touching him and licking him in the patterns that gave him the most pleasure. He sat back, legs spreading further. His entire shaft was taken into that mouth, throat closing around the tip.

  As he came down that sweet throat it occurred to him that Valetto must have learned that somewhere. He frowned. "Who taught you to do that?"

  The prince swallowed. "The persons sent to train me to give you pleasure, my Lord."

  "They were supposed to show you. Explain it." He growled and began to pace, pleasure fading quickly. "Not turn you into whore!"

  The boy froze, silent and pale as stone. Arancione could read denial in every line of the boy's body.

  "I have been deceived at every turn since your father tried to pay for favor with you. Count your blessings that I do not throw you into my fire pit!" The fire in his hearth flared high.

  "Count my blessings?" To his utter surprise, the boy stood, eyes flashing. "I was offered to you without benefit or concern. I have worked hour upon hour in your dungeon, either upon my knees or carrying loads upon my back -- not that it would be obvious, now that you have taken what defense years of work has earned me. I have been neither violent nor destructive, have caused no reason for offense and yet I am to be grateful and count my blessings?"

  Fury flowed through him, even as a part of him admired the boy's arrogance. "Perhaps you would be happier counting your blessings from your grave!" He raised his hand, ready to banish the boy to immortal doom.

  The song of his eldest brother filled the room a second before the prince was wrapped in Violo's arms, those cool lips whispering and seducing, petting the treacherous body. "This one has my blessing, brother. He and his brother are safe."

  Damn Violo!

  "I am not happy!" he shouted at his brother.

  "No? Take better care of your pets, then. This one is mine by forfeit." Violo looked, as always, supremely unconcerned.

  Betrayal! From such a source.

  Arancione's passion banked and he straightened, looked down his nose at his brother and the cringing boy. "Go on then, take the little vermin and be gone."

  Not betrayal, Bright Love, but truth. The mortal souls cannot soothe your needs. Find one of your scaled children who live to need you. The boy disappeared, leaving Violo behind, the touch to his mind a salve.

  Violo's words and obvious care soothed his spirit, though he would not admit it yet. "You should have saved us all the heartache and taken him from the start, brother."

  "Indeed." Violo took a step forward, eyes warm. "I forget how busy you are, Most Bright, how your light rips the good sense from mortals' mind."

  "It does -- it can make men fly to great heights, but at a cost. They never consider the cost, dear brother, and then it is I who must listen to their endless haranguing and moping." He reached out to brush his brother's cheek with the back of his hand. "It really does become tiresome."

  Violo nodded, nuzzling into his touch. "It takes amazing strength to drink in your light, Beloved, to float under your touch."

  "And you believe you are up for the task, dear brother?" He let his fingers continue to dance upon his brother's cool skin.

  "I believe that together we make symphonies." Violo's tongue slid over his palm.

  He purred, the fire in his hearth shooting sparks high into the air. "Then let us invent one now."

  Violo's agreement rang inside him, those sweet, cool lips parted beneath his own as they kissed. His passion flared, grew quickly as the sweet taste of his brother filled his mouth. So alive, so active, Violo's passion met his and blossomed, the air filling with song.

  Lips and hands moved against each other, against bodies, Violo's skin cool, his own hot, the two mixing, mingling, heating and cooling until you could not tell one from the other. Such life and passion and need could never be found in a mortal's empty frame, only in arms such as these. Arms that honored and adored him.

  A single thought brought a bed large enough to hold ten gods next to the fire. He bent Violo over it, pushing his brother's legs apart and sliding his phallus home.

  "Bright Love!" Violo's cry held pure bliss, the fabric of creation folding beneath his joy. Violo gave of himself completely; will, body, spirit, need -- all were his for the taking. His brother truly knew how to make him shine.

  They rocked together, creating glittering showers that poured out around them, lit by his light. Music filled the air, accompanying the show. So lovely, so beautiful together it almost brought tears to his eyes.

  They were splendiferous, he and Violo.

  See what we create together, my Bright Love? See us? Violo arched back into his arms, purring.

  Yes, brother! Mine! He wrapped his hand around Violo's phallus, just as he wrapped his mind around Violo's wild and wanton spirit, caressing both with a firm, knowing touch.

  Violo cried out, melting for him, heat spraying from that cool body. He spent his own heat inside his brother's body, the colors and music swelling and impossibly bright. His climax was complete, total, and would have incinerated a mere mortal.

  With his beloved Violo, though? They ended curled together, laughing, tongues sliding together.

  Sometimes it wasn't so impossible, being a god.

  Chapter Six

  It was deep winter and Marrone and Verde had been hidden in their cave with their devoted for a long time. Not so long they were growing weary of it yet. No, spring could wait and bring its thaw later. There were still bodies to explore, sleep to be had, stories to tell....

  "What is it?" his Verde asked shy Tisli, when he opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.

  "Do you and your brother consort with your siblings like the other gods?"

  Marrone laughed delightedly.

  Verde grinned. "That would be a yes."

  ***

  Verde advanced on Violo's castle-like home.

  He was not happy with his elder brother, Violo having made a disparaging remark regarding his twin. Violo had laughed and mentioned something about teasing, and, with Marrone there seeming inclined to let it pass, he had as well.

  It was not, however, forgotten.

  Marrone forgave easily, forgot easily, letting time and nature grow up over slights and hurts, making something beautiful in their stead. Verde, however, took slights against his beloved brother very seriously. Marrone was everything and it upset him when his twin was not treated with the respect he deserved.

  He was not large compared to Violo, nor was he as eagerly sought as the Purple God, but he loved his twin with a fierce devotion that would see him going up against his entire family united against him if it were to come to that.

  He threw open the door to Violo's home and called out his brother's name.

  A shimmering cloud appeared in front of him, slowly coalescing into the tall, slender form of his eldest brother. "Yes, little brother? You have need of me?"

  "Yes, I do. I need you to watch what you say about my brother!" He glared up at Violo, refusing to see the beauty in his older brother's eyes.

  "Which one, little brother? You have so many." One eyebrow lifted, a tingling finger tracing his bottom lip.

  He jerked back. "Don't call me that!" He glared harder. "And you know who I'm talking about. You insulted Marrone. Again. And I want it to stop."

  A soft chuckle sounded. "What would you have me call you, sweet, fierce love? You know my feelings about your beast of burden, as does he, Verde. He took no offense."

  "He is no beast! He is twice the god you are!"

  "In truth, little brother, he is an animal -- he is warm and dear and all the protector one's little brother could need, but he is a beast, made for you."

  Part of Verde knew that Violo did it on purpose, that his eldest brother enjoyed getting a rise out of him, but he rose to the bait nonetheless. "I will not have him pained, not even a little for your e
njoyment, big brother."

  "And will you be cross with me? Stamp your feet and fuss? Little brother, I was there when you crept from Mother's robes, clinging to Marrone's pelt." Those eyes were beautiful, flashing at him, aroused and dark.

  "So that my brother and I may amuse you more? Bah!" He threw up his hands and pushed Violo, catching his older brother by surprise and sending him back a few steps.

  Violo blinked, then began to laugh, moving close to him, hands hot on his skin. "Oh, Verde. I do so enjoy your temper."

  He grabbed Violo's arms, intent on pulling the warm hands away. "And now you're laughing at me!" Instead of pushing, though, he pulled and took Violo's mouth, kissing his brother hard.

  Violo moaned, hands pulling him in close, tongue pressing back into his mouth. Such delicious fury, little brother.

  He bit Violo's tongue. "Don't call me little!"

  Violo's eyes flashed and he was pushed back. "Watch yourself, little brother, else you find yourself visiting one of the rooms meant for my pets."

  He stiffened, then the room shook, the familiar pounding of hooves thunderous as his Marrone appeared between them. "Enough, Violo. No more of your games."

  "Marrone!" Pleasure and annoyance filled him. They all thought him weak. He slid his hands along Marrone's flank, moving to stand just in front of his beloved twin.

  Never weak, Beloved, but I will not allow another to mark you. Marrone's horns were heavy, sharp, his musk delicious here in this stone palace.

  Oh. He purred, rubbing against his brother, anger and arousal flaring together, making him need.

  Violo's chuckle was low, erotic. "Where one comes, the other invariably follows, yes Marrone?"

  "Yes, Violo. He is my Beloved, my heart, my Verde. Where he goes, I follow." Marrone's voice was filled with a possessive joy.

  It made him purr louder, and he wrapped one hand around Marrone's neck, the other reaching out to Violo as his lips joined his twin's in a kiss. Their brother joined them easily, fingers moving unerringly to Marrone's horns, stroking them as their kiss was shared.

  It was always a surprise when another flavor joined their own, especially when it was as strong as their brother's. He shifted slightly, rubbing against Violo as well as Marrone, purring at the soft, smooth skin. Violo's pleasure was freely offered, as was the warm and true welcome Marrone was given, now that the games were finished. Marrone growled gently, the sound loving and rich.