The Pleasure Rites Series

by Ines Johnson

  Khial looked around at the female's idea of hospitality. Not even street boys lived in such squalor.

  Tall metal fixtures lined the walls. Each fixture contained a shelf stuffed with hard-covered books. Khial had seen a few paper books before. His mother collected the artifacts.

  The interior of the space was free of dirt, but everything looked near tatters. The curtains hung in doubles where you could see holes in one that the other covered. Near the back of the long room, shelves and doors were in a state of disrepair, barely hanging on hinges in some places. The rugs were worn. There were no solar panels, that Khial could see, and as the sun began to set, darkness ran its fingers up the wall of books.

  The urchins that ran the streets of his home city, the boys who were thirds, fourths and beyond, had beds and clean sheets in government sponsored homes. The Sisterhood would have no less. But this female lived outside of civilization, away from any laws of sisterhood, or protection of men. If Khial were one to care, he would think it unconscionable.

  Khial didn't have time to care. He had more important things on his mind.

  He rose from the floor and put weight on his injured leg. He winced, but the pain was mild. It should have hurt more, but whatever salve the girl gave him lessened the pain considerably. Khial picked up the tube of ointment. "Neosporin," the tube read. He had never heard of such herbs. It looked ancient and was incased in plastics. It was the plastic that told him the herbal mixture was from a time long past. Perhaps he would find what he was looking for after all.

  Khial went back to the reference shelves and commenced his search. Thumbing through the medical reference section, he found an array of manuscripts.

  The Merck Manual of Diagnosis. Gray's Anatomy.

  Across the room, Dain sat, looking fascinated by the girl as she stoked a fire inside a pit dug into the floor. Khial kept a wary eye on them both. Dain was the kind to bring strays home. Wounded birds, hungry dogs, traumatized schoolmates. Dain would look over the creatures with fascination, trying to figure out what ailed them, what was wrong, and how he could fix them. Dain grew up with no problems of his own, so the plights of others intrigued him, like putting together the scattered pieces of a puzzle.

  The girl roasted the meat over the fire while Dain continued to question her.

  "You've lived here all your life?"

  The girl nodded.

  "Just you and your mother? But now you're alone."

  The girl glanced over to Khial and then back at Dain. "Is he your servant?" She spoke in a whispered tone, but Khial heard her clearly.

  Dain's eyebrows rose in surprise, and then he grinned over at Khial. The girl, eyes fixed on the meat, missed the salacious wink Dain aimed at Khial.

  "It’s just," the girl started and then swallowed, looking down at her hands. "I've read that people of darker skins were once enslaved by those of lighter skins."

  Khial took a moment to survey the girl. Her skin was the smooth brown of an almond shell. She was pleasantly put together. For a female. She wasn't slight and frail like the pampered princesses of the city. Her limbs were strong, her curves full. Her hair, dark as coal, fell over her shoulders in a mix of braids and messy waves. But it was her eyes that struck him the most. They weren't a solid color so much as the liquid movement of brown, black and gold. If he looked at her long enough, Khial was certain she'd mesmerize him.

  As if she'd heard his thoughts, she looked up at him and instantly he was held captive. In her liquid eyes, Khial saw longing, which was unfortunate for her because Khial was unwilling to provide for her. For her or any woman. For anyone, save Dain. But Khial couldn't communicate that fact. He was having trouble breaking away from the girl's molten gaze.

  Dain's laughter broke the spell. "Khial is neither my slave nor my servant."

  Khial rolled his eyes at the lie. Though the Sisterhood outlawed any practice of forced service hundreds of years ago, Khial had pledged, when they were just boys, to remain by Dain's side always. Dain pledged to do the same with him.

  The girl looked at Dain with stars in her eyes. Khial had seen that look of desire many times before, in both women and men. Poor girl, thought Khial. Dain had his mother's beauty. Dain's mother, Darlyn, had used her looks and desirability to amass wealth for her family. Dain remained blissfully unaware of what his smile did to the human population.

  Dain aimed that up-tilted weapon at Khial. Though not immune, Khial had years of practice at handling Dain and his smiles. He turned back to the books.

  He was near the end of the section and still had not found anything close to what he sought. His frustration growing, a new section caught his eyes. Khial abandoned the medical reference section, his hands shaking at the trove of these new treasures.

  The Arts and Entertainment section was small and easily overlooked. Khial pulled a thin booklet out. Andrew Lloyd Weber Classics, the book read.

  "Women outlawed slavery in all its forms centuries ago," Dain said. "No one can force another to do anything they do not want."

  Khial glanced up to see the girl's eyes draw at this, doubtful of Dain's words. Dain took her hand into his own. Khial's wonder at his find turned sour. He stashed the book into his pack and marched over to the cozy pair.

  "Dain," his voice came out as a bark and the two of them jerked apart. "It’s still light out. We can make it back if we leave now."

  "Nonsense," Dain frowned. "The sun's nearly set and Chanyn has prepared this lovely meal for us."

  Trust Dain to remember his impeccable manners in every situation. The meal was burnt, chewy, and mushy, all at the same time. They ate with their hands on plastic slats. Dain was lucky Khial humored him; they had perfectly good rations in the vehicle. Dain kept up his inquiry of the strange girl. Khial was largely uninterested in the conversation. But one thing niggled him.

  "Where did you get the firearm?"

  The girl startled at his voice, as though surprised to find Khial sitting there. "There's a dwelling called Walmart about two miles from here. All of the canned foods within are inedible and the electronic devices are useless. But I've made use of the weaponry."

  She indicated the firearm in question and the dagger, restored to her boot. Her eyes once again connected with Khial's. It was a warning. Dain, she trusted, but Khial, she was still apprehensive about. She was smarter than Khial gave her credit.

  "It's getting late," Khial said. "We should retire now so that we can get started at first light."

  The girl's face fell at those words. Her arms came around herself, though it wasn't cold.

  Dain's face mirrored hers, his hands reached out to rub her shoulder.

  Khial barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He knew what would come for him when he and Dain were alone. But Khial had already formulated a plan to distract Dain.

  "All right," the girl said. "You can use two of the Reading Rooms—"

  "We only need one." Khial met her eyes again in challenge.

  She frowned slightly, but nodded.

  They all rose. The girl led. Khial took a step to follow, but was hit in the gut. Dain's tap didn't hurt. It served as a warning for Khial to mind his manners, a lesson Khial needed frequently. Dain's eyes narrowed on Khial. The message clear: Be nice. Khial shrugged and followed the girl.

  The room she led them to had a sliding glass door and more shabby curtains with holes. The setting sun gave the room a bit of light. There was a worn mattress on the floor, with old sheets to cover it. Books lined each wall from floor to ceiling.

  Khial peered at the titles. The Holy Bible. The Evolution of Physics. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

  The last title made Khial freeze in the doorway. Dain bumped into him from behind.

  "This was my mother's room," the girl said as she went about straightening up the already tidy room.

  Khial didn't respond, his eyes still on the book stack.

  Dain squeezed past Khial and reached out a hand to the girl. "Lady Chanyn
, we thank you again for your hospitality. We would not have survived this day without you."

  Khial shook himself and looked away from the familiar title. He would not let memory drag him down tonight. He had work to do. A plan to enact, to save his oldest and most trusted friend from his overused sense of charity.

  "I won't be far, if you need anything," the girl said. She moved passed Khial without looking at him, and then was gone.

  Khial gave the curtains where she exited a good tug. He set his pack down next to the bed. Turning to Dain he began unbuttoning his shirt, waiting for Dain's first offense. It didn't take long.

  "We're taking her with us."

  Khial didn't answer. He freed himself of his shirt.

  "The way she lives is unconscionable. A woman on her own. With no men to protect her, provide for her, or pleasure her."

  Those were the three edicts of men in their society. The only things men were allowed to do any longer.

  "And you plan to do that for her?" Khial asked as he undid the clasp on his pants.

  The garment fell to the ground. Dain’s gaze lingered on Khial's barely covered package before returning his green eyes to Khial's face. "She might be the answer to our prayers, Khi."

  Khial stepped out of his pants and strode toward Dain. "I haven't sent up any prayers." He began unbuttoning Dain's shirt. "The Goddess can go fuck herself, for all I care."

  "Khi."

  Khial pulled Dain's opened shirt down his torso. Trapping Dain's arms in the garment, Khial pulled Dain into his chest. "If there's a way out of this, I will find it."

  They stood nose to nose. Lips only a breath apart. Khial's eyes shone fiercely as he looked into Dain's. Dain's eyes, as they had been for too many months, dimmed in resignation. He rubbed the side of his face against Khial's, the day old stubble rough against Khial's cheek. Then Dain pulled away to peer into Khial's eyes.

  "You know that I trust you with my life, Khi. But I need you to trust me, too."

  Dain was the only person on the earth he trusted.

  "If we can't find what we're looking for, she's the next best thing we have to a solution." Dain looked over his shoulder at the glass door where the girl had exited. "I really do believe she's an angel sent from the Goddess."

  An angel? That got Khial's blood boiling. What female lived out in the middle of nowhere away from society? It was unnatural. The girl had to be up to something.

  "Oh, my goddess," Dain laughed. "You're jealous."

  Khial's answer was to shove Dain.

  Undaunted, Dain reached up and caressed Khial's chin. "You are. It’s adorable."

  Khial slapped his hand away. Dain grabbed with the other. Khial maneuvered out of this grasp as well, but lost his footing. Dain guided them so that they both fell onto the mattress with a loud thunk. The men continued the struggle, but Dain's laughter left him at a disadvantage, and Khial quickly gained the upper hand, pinning Dain beneath him.

  Dain gazed up at him, adoration in his green eyes. He reached his free hand up and cupped Khial's cheek, all struggle gone, his eyes turning thoughtful. "I've loved you for more than half my life."

  Khial flinched at the word love.

  As always, Dain ignored his reaction and increased the pressure and insistence of his caress. "Do you really think it possible for me to feel for anyone else what I feel for you?"

  Dain asked the question in a serious tone. His head cocked as though exploring the query from all angles. Dain never demanded that Khial say those three little words. Khial would never say them, had never said them. Would never need to.

  Dain pulled Khial's head down. Their kiss was brutal. Khial plunged his tongue into Dain's mouth and Dain allowed the claiming. As his tongue explored the familiar crevices, Khial's hands reached for Dain's pants and briefs.

  Dain broke away from Khial's mouth. "How's your leg?"

  Khial quirked an eyebrow. "The little witch's ointment relieved all the pain."

  "She's not a witch," Dain protested.

  Khial's hand found Dain’s dick. "Stop talking about her."

  Dain went mute as Khial's thumb dipped into the crevice at the head of his penis. Coming away with precum, Khial circled the head round and round until Dain arched off the mattress.

  Satisfied that he had his lover's full attention, Khial scooted lower on the bed. Stopping his ministrations, Khial waited until Dain's eyes opened to figure out what happened to the pleasure. When Dain's eyes connected with Khial, Khial gave him a wicked grin before licking Dain's dick from base to tip.

  A shudder traveled through Dain, exploding from his mouth in a growl, just as Khial reached the tip. With Dain's eyes hooded, but still avidly on his own, Khial planted a chaste kiss on the soft pink of Dain's dick head. And then, without warning or preamble, Khial dropped his head, and sunk his mouth down.

  A deep growl burst from Dain's chest.

  "Shh," Khial admonished. "Or you'll wake her and she'll want to join."

  The thought of Chanyn's lush curves uncovered hit Khial in his gut. Though he was already hard from wanting Dain, the image of Chanyn spread out before him made his dick ramrod straight.

  For a second, the desire knocked him off kilter and he stumbled off Dain's dick. Women had never aroused anything more than wariness and fear in Khial. He decided to chalk the errant thought up to the painkilling brew the girl put in his system. He shoved the idea, and the girl, out of his mind. After all, Khial had a pliable man in his bed to please. The only person he ever wanted beneath him, on top of him, inside him.

  Khial straightened and discarded his briefs. He reached into his pack and quickly found the small bottle of oil. Rubbing some on himself, he placed his own dick at Dain's entrance. Dain wrapped his legs around Khial. Completely entwined, Khial entered Dain in one thrust.

  Dain groaned, forgetting once more to keep his pleasure quiet, else the girl down the hall became curious, or worse, aroused.

  On another thrust, Khial decided to reverse his position on loud lovemaking. The girl should know that they were a bonded pair. Dain was Khial's and Khial had no intention of sharing. With that thought, Khial increased the speed of his thrusts.

  He'd made love to Dain hundreds of times. It never got old. Khial knew exactly how to bring his man to the heights of pleasure.

  He'd studied Dain's smile for over a decade. Learned what kept the sadness away, what quieted the nightmares. How to heal Dain's one and only wound. Khial was a model student. Keeping up his thrusts, Khial gave a firm hand to Dain's dick. A thrust of his hips. A pull of his hand.

  Thrust. Pull.

  Thrust. Pull.

  In a matter of moments, Dain was close.

  With that knowledge, Khial released his breath. He always held his breath until Dain's pleasure was eminent. Not until he was sure his lover was close would Khial spare a moment for his own release.

  And so Khial began to thrust deeper, harder.

  Dain reached up to Khial. Strong fingers caressed either side of Khial's face. Green eyes filled with passion and desire. Khial's breaths quickened, his heavy heart feeling light.

  Dain came first. His body jerking and convulsing spurring Khial's own release; a release that took his breath and made his heart pound in his chest.

  When the shaking calmed to tremors, Khial withdrew from Dain and collapsed beside him. Dain pulled Khial onto his chest, laying Khial's head at his heart. He peppered Khial with feather-light kisses on his brow.

  It was Khial's intention to stay awake, to keep watch like a man was supposed to do for his mate. Protect them, after they pleasured them into bliss. But Khial couldn't keep his eyes open under Dain's caresses. The sound of Dain's heart beating strong, the best sound in the world, lulled Khial into a sense of security. Feeling protected, in moments Khial was asleep.

  Chapter Three

  The sound of something large falling brought Chanyn from her room and back down the hall. In hindsight, she should've asked herself what she could've done that two large men
couldn't handle. But then she'd remembered the boar that now filled her belly, and she hurried down the hall.

  It was the groans of pleasure that stayed her hand on the glass door of her mother's former bedroom. Chanyn had never heard such sounds. She'd heard the pain of an animal clinging to life. She'd heard the angry cadence of her mother's voice when she'd found Chanyn reading romance novels, instead of the approved nonfiction-reading list. She'd even heard the cooing of baby animals as they played with their parents and siblings.

  Pain, anger, and joy. None could compare to the guttural sound of pleasure and aching need that reverberated from the glass lined room.

  Chanyn knelt down and peeked into one of the holes left by the tattered curtains. She'd often looked through this hole to spy on her mother on the days when the older woman became too engrossed in her books to leave her room. Chanyn knew from experience that entering without her mother's permission would get her an angry shout. So instead, Chanyn would peer in to make sure she saw the rise and fall of her mother's chest before going about her day.

  When Chanyn peered through the hole this time, the two bodies inside were stark naked and definitely alive.

  Khial's mouth hovered over Dain's... private parts. From his prone position, Dain watched the other man's head bob up and down, his eyes were hooded, his lips parted, his fingers caressing Khial's face in an encouraging motion.

  Khial straightened and Chanyn saw both men's—she could barely even think the word—penises. Dain's long and pink, Khial's dark and thick. Khial plunged himself inside Dain and the two panted and moaned their way to ecstasy.

  Chanyn felt herself growing warm, just like when she read the vivid love scenes in her novels. Only she'd never read of two men making love to one another. Of course, she knew it happened in this day and age. She knew that after the environmental, biochemical and finally, nuclear destruction wrought by men, that female births became scarce as Mother Nature closed her womb to mankind. Chanyn knew she had two fathers somewhere out in the world. Her mother rarely spoke of her mates, and never in a kind fashion. Chanyn knew they'd been turned out of her mother's home after conception. With their work done, there was no further need to keep them around.