by Willa Okati
“Honor ...?”
“Oh, yeah. They don’t choose one of us too often. Maybe once or twice every couple of millennia, if that. I’ve been waiting two hundred and sixty years, myself. Not too long, or so I’m told. You must be really special if they picked you out of the crowd outside and wanted you right away. Wow, wow, wow!” Proto-Accountant babbled, staring reverently at Collin.
Mystery piled upon mystery, and Collin didn’t like a one of them. Who were the “they” Proto kept raving over? What did it mean to be “picked out”?
He almost didn’t want to know.
“How’d you get them to notice you? Can you tell me? No matter what I do, none of them have ever noticed me. Li Hsien says my finding this place was a mistake, and I wasn’t supposed to get here until after a few more turns of the wheel, karma or whatever, but I did find my way in, so what does he know? But you? You walk right in, and boom!”
Collin struggled to follow Proto’s stream of chatter. “Boom?”
“Boom!” Proto clapped his hands together. “You’re Collin. We’ve all heard about you. Li Hsien told us everything, but not what really matters. Oh, hey, win a bet for me, will you? What did he give you to drink?”
Collin frowned. He put a hand to his throat, raw and scratchy as he swallowed. The moist heat in the air had swelled his membranes and made it hard to breathe, much less talk.
“Scotch,” he said. No point in not being honest. Proto talked too much for Collin’s taste, but it might mean he had answers on tap with his other babbling. “At first. Then it turned into rice wine. Sake. Heated sake.”
“Ohh.” Proto sighed. His eyes grew damp. “I was right. That is the key. One of them. You are so lucky. Did you see him? Them? One of them? Did he visit you when you drank? I’ve heard guys, other chosen ones, tell stories about visions, visits, whatever. Little peeks into the future. I bet you saw something. Come on, spill. What did you see?”
Collin stared at the mousy little man. Proto all but panted with his lust for details, and suddenly, his helping hands felt sticky and grasping. Leech-like. Collin’s stomach rolled as he shuddered away. “Get off of me!”
Proto cringed. “Hey, hey, don’t mean to offend, buddy. I just wanted to know what being so special feels like, right?”
Special? Chosen? I still don’t like the sound of those words, but -- later. I’ll think about them later. Right now ...
“Get. Off!” Collin barked, giving Proto a rough shove back and away. The man stumbled and almost fell, righting himself in the nick of time.
Collin glared at him. “Don’t you touch me. Never again. Are we clear?”
“But --” The man wavered, then sighed, deflating balloon-style. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I get too excited. Li says that’s another reason why I haven’t been chosen. Won’t be chosen for a long, long time. Gotta learn to keep things cool. Or warm.” Proto giggled, a crazy-sounding snicker. “I’ll get the sake some day. Just have to wait. It’ll be my turn. You’ll see. They’ll all see. I’ll be chosen. I’ll be honored. Special. Right? Right? Tell me I’m right.”
Collin stared as he shook his head. Nuts. Proto was so far around the bend he’d need a periscope to look back at where he’d come from. Collin had had enough lunatics for one night, thanks. “Just stay away from me. All right? Far, far away.”
“Sure. Sure thing. No problem. Hey, but when you meet them, could you put in a good word, or --”
Enough was enough! Collin closed his ears to Proto’s babbling as he would a buzzing horsefly. Glancing down, he caught sight of an abandoned clay mug. He glanced from side to side, picked it up, and sniffed. No smell at all. A taste-test proved it to be water. Heavy on the minerals -- cavern water -- but non-alcoholic. He suspected staying away from intoxicants would be the smart move, but he desperately needed something to dampen his throat.
He took a sip, half-closing his eyes as the coolness washed down his throat. Plain water had never tasted quite as good as this, and hey! Not only did the liquid wet Collin’s whistle, it cleared out his windpipe. He could breathe again. Smell again. He looked up, delighted enough to share the news with anyone who happened to be passing --
And blinked.
Even as he watched, the room shimmered with a sudden wave of scorching summer warmth. The air waved and bent before his eyes in heat ripples. When it settled, it had changed. The cavern had changed. Subtle variations, but very real. Warmer, wetter. Thicker air. Still stone, stone, stone everywhere, but veined marble instead of brick-work.
The madding crowd had vanished, leaving him alone once more.
Alone and feeling pitifully small in a space too high and broad to see any ceiling, walls, or boundaries. An impossible hole in the world that stretched on forever.
So when am I going to learn not to take candy from strangers?
“Nice trick,” Collin said after a long pause to reset his bearings yet again. He assessed himself quickly. Blank-face, flat tone of voice, steady hands: check. He wouldn’t let Amour Magique know its chameleonic squirming had gotten to him. Not again.
Would it help if he approached his situation as he would a living, breathing person? A difficult client, maybe? Might work. It was worth a try, and he knew how to play his own games.
First order of business, then -- find out where he stood. Let whoever was trying to play him puppet-style know that no one could tug his strings without permission. A touch of dominance, a pinch of condescension, and a taste of defiance. Let whoever ran this particular show learn exactly what he thought about the performance to date.
He put his hands on his hips. “Five out of five for originality,” he drawled, his voice deliberately lazy and bored. The sound echoed, yet was muted. “Tell me, what do you do for an encore? Do you make the Statue of Liberty disappear?”
Silence.
A waiting silence.
Collin bared his teeth in the parody of a smile. “I’m well aware someone is out there, watching me. I can feel you staring. Would you like to tell me who you are?”
Silence.
Interesting. Perhaps try goading? A taunt or two might grease the deus ex machina’s gears. “So now you’ve got nothing to say. Odd, considering you couldn’t stop babbling earlier.” Collin turned in a slow circle. “Here, kitty, kitty,” he said, deliberately smiling as smugly as he could. “Come on out. We’re all friends here, aren’t we? I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me. Do we have a deal?”
Silence.
Then, abruptly enough to make Collin flinch, he heard a fire-whisper --
Flames burn higher, higher.
Cry for us.
Crystal tears.
Pearls.
A flicker of flame burst from thin air and tickled over Collin’s groin. He yelped and stumbled back, unable to help the cry.
The fire-voice chuckled. Dance.
Collin blinked. “What?”
We would see you dance, Collin.
Here. Perhaps this will help.
The curl of flame darted arrow-swift into Collin’s groin, and his body all but exploded with the fire that suddenly raged within, barely contained inside his skin.
Heat. Fear. Lust. Insane, insensate lust. Taking over his nervous system and tweaking each one just so, driving him mad with a burst of need for sex stronger than his urge to breathe, swallow, or stand.
His cock swelled hard, fast, and solid, a rock between his legs. Pulsing rock. Pulse beating with a mighty thump, thump, thump! Rolling waves of pleasure blasting through his lower belly.
He doubled over with a groan. The arousal transcended pleasure fast, moving into pain. Blue balls was too mild a descriptor. If he didn’t climax, he would lose his mind as well as his genitals, as he suspected they would surely explode.
He knew what the puppet-master wanted him to do, wanted to watch. “I don’t perform on command,” he warned as he licked trickles of sweat away from where they’d dribbled down to his mouth. “I don’t care who you are. I am my own man.”
No. You are our
s. Dance, Collin. One dance, for us.
Collin squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth shut against a groan. How much sexual torture could a man reasonably stand?
Please, Collin. For me. Us. There is no one else around to see. Do as we ask. Obey us. The voice chuckled. It is not as if you have a choice, you understand.
Collin wiped his face with one shaking hand. “Fine,” he said, voice low and threatening as he could muster. “But then, I want answers.”
Perhaps if you please us, we will give them. Now, our patience grows thin. Dance!
And Collin, for the first time in a very long time, gave up the fight. Gave in to his baser nature, the one he’d tamped down and hidden well out of sight, and let his hormones win out over his common sense.
One thing, though -- if it was a show they wanted, he’d see they got one to remember. A sight to haunt their eyes when they tried to sleep at night.
When Collin did a thing, he did it right -- and he took pride in being better than anyone at everything he turned his hand to.
Game on.
Collin tore at his jeans, the bizarre frenzy he felt increasing his strength so much that he ripped the denim when it didn’t cooperate. He shoved the tatters off his hips, tore the shirt off his back, and, blissfully naked, arched his erect cock high into the air. Fucking the baking air around him. Offering the hard-on of a lifetime to the fire in the hearth.
His hidden audience approved. Tongues of flame flicked out of nowhere, dancing around Collin’s cock. He let out a hoarse, primal yell. Felt like the fire was doing him in return, sucking him into tight, moist heat, better than the best ever. His pulse beat like a drum, his erection pounded, and he thought, semi-crazily, that he might just blast a hole through the cavern wall when he climaxed.
When. Let it be soon. Please, let it be soon. This is too good, too much, too fast. I’m not going to beg for pity, but I need a dose of mercy. Come on, come on, come on!
No dice. Shockwaves of ecstasy continued rolling in, one hard on the heels of another, each riding a higher, hotter blaze of arousal. His skin felt stretched tight enough to split. His balls ached, squeezing, contracting.
Explosion suddenly seemed alarmingly probable.
Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not going down until I say so. Collin reached for his cock. Defiant to the last, with a sneer and a leer, he began masturbating like a man possessed by a lust devil. The pleasure doubled, tripled, and more. Better than any past sex he vaguely half-remembered.
But ... not enough. His own hand alone couldn’t push him over the edge. Pain, pleasure, pulse, throb, ache, squeeze. Too much, too much! He’d die. He’d burst.
Low chimes of laughter filled the room as Collin writhed, caught in the paradoxical grip of nightmarish bliss. A tendril of fire snaked out and wrapped around the length of his cock. It hovered, teasing.
A stream of sparks dug into Collin’s swollen flesh, burning deep.
Collin screamed. Screamed his throat raw -- but came. Climaxed hard enough to knock him to his knees and onto his back. Flat on his shoulder-blades, thrusting his cock into the steaming air. Again and again and again.
The fire pounced. It ate at him, slurping up the gouts of come splattered thick and hot over his belly, and didn’t stop. Wave after wave of orgasm. Engulfing him. Devouring his mind from the testicles up.
Too much. No man could handle something so intense.
As his cock gave another mighty spasm, squeezing out the last drops of agonizing joy, and Collin heard the fire-whisper-laugh, his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.
Chapter Eight
Floating. I’m floating on clouds of fire.
I’m burning from the inside out, and it’s unbelievable. I’m roasting in a bonfire. I’m a log in the flames. I’m turning to ashes.
Maybe I’ll become a phoenix.
It’s all going up from here. Mind you, I don’t know how I know.
I just know.
Collin opened his eyes, boneless as a cat lying in the sunlight. He could feel his cock flush against his belly. Still hard, still full, still pulsing, aching, burning. Not desperate. Yet. Eager for a second round. Embarrassingly eager.
Just ... not for a few minutes. The pain felt good. Better than good. Gleaming. Glowing. Red-hot.
Now I know I must be dreaming, Collin thought languidly. As I recall, afterglow was never so good or so literal in real life.
“Hey.” His voice slurred. “Thanks. Good one.” He laughed to himself. “I owe you. Whatever, whoever you are.”
He expected no answer. When a chuckle echoed back, Collin almost jumped out of his skin. He winced when his cock bumped his stomach. The organ felt weightier than usual, and tender as a fresh bruise. He stared around himself, but still saw nothing except an empty cavern. “Hello?”
Someone was out there. He knew it. Maybe more than one someone. Watching him. Waiting to see what he’d do. He could all but see their smiles. Snaky, eager, hungry.
Collin grinned, lewdly as he possibly could. Let’s see what value shock can offer. He grabbed his cock in one hand. “Do you want some more of this? Show yourself. Yourselves. I like to see what I’m fucking.”
He heard soft, clashing-cymbal sounds of laughter. Metallic, yet at the same time crackling like a log ablaze. The air warmed hotter yet. A gentle waft of scorching air blew over Collin, ruffling up his hair.
Two men appeared in front of the fireplace.
Men who weren’t men. Not exactly.
More than human.
Amazingly more.
One of them was the fantastical creature who’d come to Collin earlier in Li Hsien’s bar. His dark curls danced in the heat, his multitude of pale scales sparkled, and his grin stretched wide over sharp teeth and wicked fangs. Ovoid pupils in inhuman eyes glittered at Collin.
Strangely enough, he found he wasn’t frightened. Not one bit.
What did alarm Collin was the realization that the sight turned him on.
“Who are you?” he said, attempting a strong tone but only managing a hoarse whisper.
The being laughed soundlessly. He turned to his partner, and each wrapped both arms around the other. As for the second entity ... if Collin’s “friend” was breathtaking, this fellow had him beat by a Carolina mile.
Taller, bulkier. Muscles rippling with every tiny move, sinuously alive beneath his skin of darker scales. His hair hung tangled and thick, the same rich, dark rose-brown as Li Hsien’s door. The Tarzan look.
Unbelievably arousing.
He turned his slitted blue gaze on Collin, eyeing him up and down. Collin frowned. The man appeared to be weighing him in a balance. Somehow, oddly, it seemed more than important he pass the test. He felt he had to measure up, no matter what. But why?
The man grinned, flashing fangs. He nodded once, regally as a king. His message came through loud and clear: You will do.
“Thanks, I think,” Collin ventured, keeping a careful distance between himself and the inhuman, supernaturally sensual beings sizing him up. “Someone told me I’ve been chosen. I’m not saying I believe this is really happening, or that even if it were, I would be first on anyone’s to-do list, but here we are, and I’d truly like to know why. Did you two bring me here for sex? To tease me until I lose my mind? Trust me, I’m halfway there.” He glanced at his erection, stubbornly persistent. “You can see I’m ready, and I’m sure you know everything about what you’ve done to me. Me, who hasn’t -- not in a -- well.”
Swallowing down a lump of uncertainly, he reached to stroke himself. “Fine. You can’t rape the willing, and insane as it might be, I’m willing enough. Let’s do this.”
The men tilted their chins back and laughed. They turned dazzling twin smiles on Collin and, as one, shook their heads.
He blinked, baffled. “No?”
His opponents’ eyes gleamed. Mischievous. Teasing. Loki eyes. Loki the trickster god. Collin remembered him from some required history course in college, years and years ago.
But no, not Loki. They weren’t ... cold, or Nordic, or blond. They were living heat. Scorching. Mutable as licking flames. Even as Collin stared, trying to track their movements, they flashed back and forth between fire and flesh.
Dragons?
Dragons.
He knew he’d pinned them down. Couldn’t have figured out how he knew, just that he did. No room for doubt, no chance of error. Dragons.
They shouldn’t exist. Couldn’t exist. Life wasn’t a fairy tale. Peculiarities like their breed belonged in old legends. Collin knew he had to be dreaming, drunk, high, or all of the above. He clung to that belief, hoping he was just drooling under some table with his tongue hanging out. Happily hallucinating away like a seasoned junkie.
Yet it felt so real, especially where nothing else had managed to affect him in ages. His cock, an old favorite toy, had suddenly regained every bit of interest Collin had lost in its doings. Insistent, his erection pulsed with a steady beat. It wanted to play, play with these ... What were they? Gods, or men?
Knowing he should be far more startled than he was at his abrupt shift from passive to aggressive libido, Collin realized he didn’t care so long as the dragons quit playing around and fucked him into the ground already.
Liam wasn’t joking when he said tonight would be one to remember. Hello, testosterone. I’ve missed you. I suggest you continue making up for lost time. Deal?
As if reading Collin’s thought, which he suspected they very well could, the dragon men grinned together. Lazy. Teasing. Tempting. The taller one put a finger to his lips, neatly between his fangs. The smaller held up his hand, palm out, fingers beckoning, a sort of “watch this” gesture.
Collin frowned. “Watch what?”
This.
The fire ceased its arrhythmic crackling and began to play a tune. Tinkling music that chimed and crashed with soft gongs. An Asian song. Something older than Western civilization. Perhaps even older than all the dynasties. This was real music, not the pale imitations men attempted to play.
Listening, Collin heard the heart that beat inside every song ever written. The rhythmic magic that had created the first melodies. Awed, he almost forgot about the men. His hard-on. His need.
