Clan and Conscience

by Tracy St. John

  Rivek’s gentle visage softened more as he gazed at his Dramok. “Oh, I could stare at him all day, Jol. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to stand him nude on a pedestal and force him to stay there, just for the delight of staring at him?”

  “Maybe for an Imdiko, it would be.” Jol’s dark gaze raked over Ospar, making the Dramok shiver with anxious excitement. “I wouldn’t be content to stare at him. I’d have to touch him. Fuck him.”

  “Fortunately for you, he’s not an anatomically incorrect artwork. I’d hate for you to suffer.” Rivek’s smirk was filled with mischief. “Face the other way, Ospar. Bend over and grab your ankles. Let Jol see that you’re a masterpiece meant to be experienced by all the senses.”

  Ospar snarled to be ordered as Rivek did, but each command triggered his body to obey. The pose he’d been ordered into was more embarrassing than draping over the back of the lounger. It was not a posture that suggested he was a work of art. He had no choice but to assume it anyhow.

  Jol’s growl told him that he didn’t look as ridiculous as he felt. The next instant, a rough hand caressed his upraised butt cheeks. “Now this, I can appreciate.”

  Part of Ospar’s brain rebelled, shouting at him to straighten up and put his errant lovers in their proper place. It was not the part of his brain in control of his body. That part was enslaved to Rivek’s venom…and it enjoyed its predicament.

  He spoke his minor displeasure anyhow. “Sooner or later, the intoxicant will wear off. I promise, revenge will be sweet for me, sour for you.”

  Jol chuckled. “Then we’d better make our fun as wonderful as possible. In celebration of your new status as territory councilman, I will give you plenty to want revenge for.”

  Maybe some day I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut. No, probably not. Ospar sighed over the delight he took in giving Jol hell. It was too great a thrill to give up, but his Nobek always saw to it that he paid for it.

  The rough paw caressing and squeezing his ass moved to stroke his cocks. Jol’s uncompromising clasp was as tantalizing as ever, making Ospar jerk. His groin heated, the burning rising from the depths. A gnawing need trickled into his secondary, its raw force shooting bliss into Ospar’s main shaft.

  “So wet for us,” the Nobek rumbled. “So eager. A Dramok does delight in being served.”

  Ospar shuddered. His clanmates knew the balance when it came to overpowering him. Even without the help of venom, they mixed in enough devotion to short-circuit his instinct to dominate everything. As long as they were devoted to his satisfaction, all else fell by the wayside.

  Smart men, his clanmates.

  For that reason, Ospar found no urge to object when Jol’s fingers, slickened with the natural juices from his erections, pushed into his ass. His lover worked to stretch the ring of muscles so Jol could fuck him, but he was too caught up in the blast of sensation as the Nobek rubbed his prostate. His lengths, handled by Rivek’s softer touch, throbbed in the Imdiko’s grip as rapture barreled from the base of his spine into his already avid groin. Ospar came close to tipping over at the shocks of molten desire that reverberated with Jol’s strokes. His Nobek kept him from doing so with a low, evil laugh.

  “I think Ospar’s discovered your answer to perfect fulfillment, my Imdiko,” he teased Rivek.

  “He does seem to have drifted into an alternate consciousness. Totally in the moment. Have you ascended to a higher plane, my Dramok?”

  Ospar groaned in answer. His groin, especially the area between his cocks, stretched tight. Overfull. Lit with a brilliance that was heady and agonizing all at once. His secondary was charged with almost the same level of heat and pressure, and it continued to build, threatening to push into his sensitive front shaft. A tear of pre-cum dropped less than an inch from his nose.

  “He may have reached a point of too great exaltation. We should ground him a bit.”

  “Return him to a base awareness of what’s around him? I can handle that.”

  The delicious friction against Ospar’s hotspot disappeared. His passage emptied of the long, thick fingers, and he moaned a pleading cry. The blissful delights Jol had offered rendered everything else in all existence important.

  “Wake up, sweet dreamer,” the thunder-voice ordered. A concrete hand cracked against Ospar’s ass, sparking lightning through his butt cheek. Ospar’s half-closed eyes opened wide as a second smack made his rear pulse with heat. He yelped.

  Not in pain, however. Jol’s spankings usually hurt, but with his awareness submerged in desire, Ospar discerned only a wallop of passion. The intense fire added to the desire consuming his loins. Violent spasms rolled through his erections. More convulsions chased through with each enthralling whack from his Nobek’s firm hand.

  “From the sounds he’s making, I seem to be driving him further into a state of heightened glory. Perhaps you can offer something—oh, that will do.”

  The booming impacts were replaced by darts of pattering brilliance, sending sharp thrills through Ospar’s senses. A breezy, whickering noise joined with the barbs prickling his ass. A distant part of his mind identified it as the stiff little switch Rivek occasionally used on his clanmates. Instead of the usual burning lines of pain, ribbons of sensual delight streamed through Ospar.

  It was not as consuming as the strikes from Jol, however, allowing Ospar’s brain to clear from the mists of ardor. He came to himself to note how fiercely his lengths pounded, aching to spend pent-up fervor. Ancestors, how he needed to come.

  His voice grated with desperation. “Please.”

  “I believe he’s returned to us.” Rivek’s statement was tinged with laughter as he ended the whipping. “Just in time for us to enjoy warming ourselves inside him.”

  “Ancestors, yes. I’m desperate to have his ass now that it’s wearing my handprints and your stripes.”

  “Ospar? Stand up straight, my lovely Dramok. Remain still afterwards.”

  Ospar’s tormentors helped him do so. Standing in front of him, Rivek smoothed Ospar’s hair from his forehead. The Imdiko smiled down at him. “There’s my handsome clanmate. Flushed and needy and so very desirable. Let me kiss those soft lips before I put them to another use.”

  Rivek did just that, though his mouth owned Ospar’s rather than kissed it. The Imdiko plundered, his possession of Ospar meticulous, total. As Rivek’s tongue stroked and explored; as he nipped, nibbled, and caressed; the Dramok felt himself devoured in the most incredible fashion. While Rivek kissed him, Ospar didn’t have a thought in his brain. Only passion lived in him, only the blazing, yearning ache that replaced the thinking man.

  Jol added to the frenzy, his harsh grasp rubbing Ospar’s punished ass, inflicting renewed tides of awareness thundering through the Dramok’s erections. He didn’t have to hear Jol’s low whispers to understand what would happen next. Nevertheless, his Nobek’s warnings sent a thrill down his spine.

  “I’m so fucking hard for you, my Dramok. I’m going to shove my primary in your tight ass. I’m going to fuck your hot passage. You’ll take every inch of me deep inside. I’ll fuck you until I explode, until I fill you full of my cum, until you’re flooded with it.”

  Hearing Jol tell him what was about to happen, knowing he’d make it truth, made Ospar shudder. He could do nothing about it, however, even if he’d wanted to. Rivek’s venom in his system and the Imdiko’s order to remain in place kept him immobile, unable to react except to grow stiffer with lust.

  Rivek tugged him forward, using his cocks as leashes. “Onto the lounger. On your hands and knees, facing the end. You know how we want you.”

  He knew. Again, his impulse to control snarled, but those hands on his lengths…on his ass as Jol followed along…those were far more important to him. As were the men connected to them.

  Ospar clambered onto the lounger at its edge. Pulling the crotch of his trousers apart, Jol climbed up behind him, wedging his legs between the vulnerable Dramok’s. His rough grip closed on Ospar’s hip. His fist bumped against the into
xicated man’s ass, right against his hole. Jol clutched something thick and wet, guiding it to the waiting passage.

  Both groaned as the Nobek sank his primary into Ospar’s ass. Ospar preferred not to be beneath Jol, but as he yielded to his lover’s lust, he forgot why. His clanmate didn’t claim him violently, but he did take him with strength. He thrust in all at once, spreading Ospar open.

  A cry flew from Ospar’s throat as Jol found his hotspot yet again. The Nobek was thick, and he rubbed that sensitive area with incredible friction. Ospar couldn’t believe sparks weren’t flying from his hair. The feeling of Jol rocking over his prostate ignited Ospar, spreading the fire. His Nobek’s groin colliding smartly with his whipped ass prodded the heat to sink in deeper, kindling a conflagration that lit Ospar from head to toe.

  Jol’s rhythm steadied. His groin beat a relentless tattoo against the Dramok’s ass, riding him with easy power. Each thrust added to the inferno that built within Ospar, shutting down his thoughts one by one, as if a series of switches were being turned off. When Jol grabbed his primary and pumped it in rhythm with each plunge of his shaft, only a tiny thread of reason remained to the Dramok.

  “Now that our Nobek has you where he wants you, it’s my turn.” Rivek’s voice was soft, but Ospar’s hearing fastened to every word that seemed to drift down from the heavens. A soft but firm grip lifted his chin, making him look up at the Imdiko standing before him.

  Like Jol, Rivek had unfastened his trousers to release his lengths. He held his primary up, close to his body. The smaller rear shaft pointed straight out, as if to choose Ospar. He would be ordered to suck on it first.

  Except for his trousers’ exposed crotch, Rivek remained fully dressed, as did Jol. Ospar was naked, vulnerable to his clanmates. Ah, how they enjoyed their power over him when they could gain it. He’d more than met his match, even with the quiet, tranquil priest.

  Ospar liked that. Life was not worthwhile without challenges, and he loved how his Imdiko and Nobek tested him. Those few instances he could win against the pair, he’d accomplished something profound.

  Rivek’s expression was fascinating. Ospar’s Imdiko gazed down at his prize, his demeanor simultaneously predatory and adoring. “My beautiful Ospar. Tilt your head and open your mouth for my secondary. You need both your holes fucked, don’t you?”

  The statement jolted Ospar as much as Jol reaming his ass while jerking his primary. Not just because he was under the influence of Rivek’s toxin, though that was what made him twist to the side, his mouth widening to accept the Imdiko’s livid flesh. It still shocked him when his sedate priest clanmate spoke of sex with such bald appetite.

  Rivek’s slick member slid in, the spicy-sweet flavor dancing over the Dramok’s tongue. “Close your lips over me. Suck the juices off. Swallow them. Swallow my cock. Good, Ospar. Take it for your Imdiko, all the way down.”

  Rivek took him slower than Jol did, sliding his hips back and forth with deliberate leisure. His hand tangled in Ospar’s hair as he fucked his mouth and throat, sighing with bliss when his groin met the Dramok’s lips, his staff embedded as far in as it could go. There were moments Jol would hit Ospar’s cumspot hard, sending fiery bolts of elation through him. When those glorious spears of bliss filled him, Ospar couldn’t help but cry out in reaction. He’d choked on Rivek’s shaft, and the Imdiko would moan, “That’s right. That’s what I want.”

  Ospar had returned to the state where no notions impeded the sensations galloping through him. Rivek’s words were nonsense, a language he couldn’t decipher. It was the pleasure, the praise in his tone that the Dramok understood. It set off a warm glow, different from the explosive fire building in his guts. It made him happy in his heart, even if he was too far gone to know why.

  Beyond Rivek’s voice, all that existed for Ospar was the silky slide of the flesh moving between his lips. The sweetish bite of passion’s flavor on his tongue. The wondrous fullness pumping in and out of his ass, rubbing with magnificent demand that set his insides to twist and writhe. The solid grasp around his lengths, working them as they filled with ticklish heat, a molten flow that streamed into the smaller shaft and began overflowing into the larger, making it full, making it heavy, making it ache magnificently.

  Ospar had lost the ability of conscious understanding under the gorgeous assault. He needed the heaviness in his gut and erections to release. He keened a wordless, animal plea when Rivek withdrew his secondary from his eager mouth. The Imdiko chuckled at the sound and drowned it by pushing his larger cock in.

  “There. A little pre-cum for you to enjoy. Keep sucking and swallowing, my Ospar. That’s all you have to concern yourself with.”

  Again, the words made little impact, but Ospar’s instincts told him he was not to have satisfaction yet. He must continue to give himself to these two instead, must offer them what they would not allow him to have.

  He drowned in a sea of torturous enthrallment, his entire body straining to find ground. There was none to be found, not with his lovers driving into him. His every sense crackled with awareness. Each touch was overpowering, and whether it was Rivek clenching his hair or the pressure of Jol’s knees against his, Ospar felt it in his shafts. The Nobek’s attentions, his hands moving up and down with firm control, added to the sensation he was engulfed in crushing pleasure with no hope of clawing to the surface.

  Relief had never seemed farther in the distance when Jol’s delicious grip on Ospar’s lengths disappeared. The Dramok cried out with loss, then choked on Rivek’s erection as it dove down his throat.

  “Ancestors, Mother of All!” the Imdiko cried. His rhythm quickened, taking Ospar faster and with more demand.

  Jol accelerated his assault too. He plunged in and out of Ospar’s ass, fucking him with blatant power. The Nobek’s gasps joined Rivek’s, his the more bestial with growls.

  Jol didn’t slow as his shaft jerked. Warmth flooded Ospar’s passage, flowing until it dripped down the backs of his thighs. Some primitive but rational bit of the Dramok’s mind spoke. Marked. Claimed.

  Rivek clutched Ospar’s head and drove in deep. The cock sheathed in the Dramok’s mouth twitched and throbbed, sending its passion down his throat in bursts accompanied by the Imdiko’s cries.

  The pair pulled free. Ospar heaved a breath, his eyes streaming. He barely noticed he’d been rolled over onto his back until he stared up at his beloved tormentors. Jol and Rivek’s chests still heaved in the aftermath of release.

  Ospar would explode at any moment. His clanmates responded to his desperate moans, bending to take turns kissing his face and licking the tears off.

  They did not speak, perhaps discerning anything they said would be nothing but nonsense to him. Instead, they mouthed a path down his torso, caressing and nipping as they went to spark new fires to feed the conflagration. Lower and lower they went, over hollows and ridges, tasting him until they reached the place where he burned most.

  Ospar wailed at the wet warmth of their adoration on his lengths. Lapping the slickness away, waking blazing prickles through the jolting flesh. Flicking the tips to shatter him with jagged shards of violent passion. Sucking him in turns, making his belly clench as lightning blasted deep within. He writhed under their erotic torture, but attempted no escape. He sobbed for mercy

  At last, it was granted. Rivek’s head dipped up and down, entreating the lava boiling Ospar’s guts to erupt. Jol handled the Dramok’s secondary, providing the flickers of flame to ignite the final detonation.

  The spark caught. All at once, the urge to come became a flashpoint that spread with such immediacy that Ospar had no opportunity to scream. He could not even breathe. In a mere instant, he was an inferno, combusting with such violence that it consumed all he was. It flared blinding in Jol’s grip and ran a blistering, scorching trail to erupt in Rivek’s mouth.

  Ospar howled in his fiery ecstasy. Surge after surge of incredible expulsions tore free, emptying his core of the violent strain in stomach-clenching burst
s until he was left hollow.

  For what seemed a lifetime after the storm passed, Ospar floated in the calm. His body and mind drifted, tethered to reality by one sweet thought: his clanmates had served their Dramok well in his moment of triumph.

  Soon, he would gather his strength and open his eyes. He would look into the faces of the lovers who cradled him between themselves, holding him as he pulled himself together. Ospar would express some bereaved comment about being made to surrender on his day of political ascendancy. Jol would insult him, and Ospar would jab back. Rivek would offer some observation that would be profound, and perhaps a bit teasing.

  Then they would ready themselves and meet the world they had helped to free of the syndicate. They would go out and try to make all the Empire a better place for its citizens. Perhaps they would continue to triumph. Maybe they would fail. But Ospar knew one thing for certain: whatever the future might bring, he could handle it with these two men at his side.

  The End

  Other books by Tracy St. John available at Amazon:

  Unholy Union

  The Font

  To Protect and Service: Ravenous Virtue

  THE CLANS OF KALQUOR SERIES:

  Alien Embrace

  Alien Rule

  Alien Conquest

  Alien Salvation

  Alien Slave

  Alien Interludes: Clans of Kalquor Short Stories

  Alien Redemption

  Alien Refuge

  Alien Caged

  Alien Indiscretions

  Alien Hostage

  Alien Revolt

  CLAN BEGINNINGS

  To Clan and Conquer

  Clan and Conviction

  Clan, Honor, and Empire

  Clan and Crown

  Clan and Command

  OTHER CLANS OF KALQUOR BOOKS

  Sister Katherine

  Michaela

  Shalia’s Diary Book 1

  Shalia’s Diary Book 2