Finding Bliss: Fantasy MMMM Gay Romance (Trial of Submission Book 3)

by Natalie Wish

  His legs trembled under him as he moaned and cursed. Never before had a simple handjob made him react like this, like he was an innocent virgin being touched for the first time. But after being worked over so skillfully... The shaking of his legs grew worse and he had to lean forward to prop himself on the prince’s clothed shoulder, while the man continuously wrung pleasure from his unsteady form.

  ‘Xanran, you said you want all of my magic... I finished testing one more spell I could use. We didn’t discuss it before, but if you want to try it now...’

  Only then did he realize Saainren’s voice was in his head. He was using the mindlink spell to ask if he wanted to add an unknown parameter to their scene. Xanran blinked, not really having the strength to lift his head off the prince’s shoulder. The hand on his cock stopped to let him have some clarity of mind. The sooner he answered, the sooner it would be back.

  ‘Yes’. He sent to his Dom.

  ‘You won’t even ask what it is?’

  “I trust you,” Xanran sighed out loud, putting a bit more weight on the prince, who staggered the tiniest bit back, his lithe form not comparable to Xanran’s heavier body.

  “Let’s get you to the bed first,” the smile in the prince’s voice was palpable.

  Xanran let himself be deprived of his icy cuffs, a flame flickering nearby until they were melted enough to snap off. The underlying fabrics that bound his wrists were disposed of as well and the prince led him to the bed that was prepared at the center of the stage.

  The tiny butterflies followed their steps diligently and Xanran blushed remembering that the crowd had a truly intimate way to watch him. So, as he sprawled on the bed, he used the backdrop of the black silk to present his build, to arch his spine in a tantalizing curve of sinful flesh. He rubbed against the smooth sensation of the silk like a bitch in heat and the butterflies swarmed to capture every carnal movement.

  The prince pressed a demanding hand on his torso, stilling his motions and pressing him into the bed.

  “Hands over your head. Keep them there,” Saainren shaped Xanran’s actions to his will.

  “Won’t you tie me up, sir?” he asked after he took the required position, and he realized his Dom wasn’t reaching for any of the binds that were at their disposal.

  “No. You will show me what a good boy you are by keeping your hands where they are.”

  “Y-yes, sir,” Xanran stammered out. Being called a good boy always made something light up in his chest. He would prove he deserved to be called so, no matter what Saainren had in stock for him.

  A current of lightning arched between the prince’s hands and a single finger touched one of his abs.

  Fuck.

  FUCK.

  “Nnnngh!” His teeth clenched as a current of electricity went through his body, his muscles jumping against his will, body arching, hands clenching into fists, but by some miracle staying over his head.

  He panted, dazed. His erection throbbing between his legs.

  “You look so desperate. Do you want to come so much already? I’m not done playing with you... but if you can stand another ten of those-” His fingers sparkled with the thunder magic again. “I may be merciful.”

  Ten? He wanted to take a hundred. The mind was willing. But as for the body... they would have to see.

  “I can take it, please give it to me, sir, now!” Xanran faked his confidence, begging breathlessly.

  A strike landed against his buttocks with a sound like thunder, which fit well, considering the electric charge it was imbued with.

  “Brat. I will decide when you get it,” Saainren chastised him and as punishment spent the next few minutes running his sparking hands close enough to the dragon, that he could feel all of his fine body hair lifting, the static electricity in the air making him constantly aware of the promise and a threat in one.

  Suddenly, the sparks intensified, and a line of lightening zapped his body, like a bolt from the sky. He could feel the slight burn where it hit, but the rapidness of the action was what did him in. Saainren above him was like a thunder cloud, an unpredictable force of nature that couldn’t be tamed.

  And Xanran was the idiot who stood at the peak of the tallest mountain in a raging storm, begging to be struck down.

  Another bolt, this time hitting one of his nipples and it took all of his strength and all of his hazy mind to not move his hands. When he had the next moment of clarity, he pulled his hands further down, pinning them under his dragon horns. They had rough ridges that dug hard into the skin of his wrists when the next strike came, but the pain was welcome, a known sensation in the sea of a completely new experiences, helping to anchor him.

  “Mnn... aah... ah!” he gasped and moaned when different parts of his body took the lightning strikes, sometimes the bolts even splitting in two and hitting more than one area at the same time. His heart was beating so fast as if it wanted to escape from his chest. As if it wanted to offer itself to the god, known as Xanran, who made the shivers of pleasure run through his body, making all coherent thought escape his mind.

  With the next hit of electricity his hands jerked off the bed, even his head and horns failing to keep them from lifting up.

  Saainren looked down at him, at his tightly clenched jaw and the sweat falling down his brow, at the hips that started rolling seeking gratifying friction and took his hands in his own, skimming gentle fingers over them.

  “Let me help you,” he said with a compassionate smile before squeezing his wrists and letting the magical power of lightening flow through him.

  Xanran’s body bowed off the bed, but his trapped hands stayed in place. Every muscle in his body strained for one second, two...

  Three.

  Saainren was continuing to channel his magic into him.

  Ten.

  He moaned pitifully as his body fell back onto the bed shaking and gulping down air with the desperation of a man drinking water while stranded in a desert. His muscles twitched with aftershocks, refusing to listen to him.

  “Just one more,” Saainren crooned and Xanran nearly blacked out as that conduit of power reached for his cock.

  It was agony.

  It was ecstasy.

  It was what made him scream, the cum shooting from his cock amplifying the effect of the electric currents with its wetness, the electricity searing through him.

  “Good boy,” Saainren said with possessive pride, his voice rough as if he was the one shouting just now. “Good boy,” his Dominant said, and his words were as potent as a thunderstrike.

  Chapter Twelve

  ∞∞∞

  “Remember to put the Dungeon on a magical inline to amplify the power. And today really is the best astronomical conjunction to do it, so don’t dawdle!” Lorena fretted.

  Mexi knew it was hard to be the one left behind, but Lorena agreed that she helped them as much as she could - invaluable aid in Mexi’s opinion - and there wasn’t a good reason to put her in danger. Besides, he knew she wasn’t keen on seeing one of her great-grandfather’s greatest accomplishments get utterly destroyed.

  And let’s not forget there was a good chance of their whole plan going to hell in a handbasket. But what was worse, they still expected a lot of damage to occur, even if everything went perfectly. There just wasn’t any way around it; destroying a powerful magical artefact meant a huge magical backlash that could not only kill people, but potentially even raze a whole town.

  Obviously, the capital of the largest Empire on the continent wasn’t a place to do it.

  They finished their goodbyes with Lorena (to Mexi’s surprise she even hugged Vitorous when wishing him good luck) and as soon as she left Mexi felt the wave of magic, that manifested in a feeling of something being different, like a faint buzzing in your ears that wouldn’t leave you, that signified the Dungeon teleporting to a new place. The weird feeling se
ttled and then stopped completely when he stepped out through the portal and took in his new surroundings.

  The half-frozen plains of the tundra greeted him, the place not devoid of life, but devoid of people at this time of year. The roaming herders would be back here in the spring, but until then it was one of the places where the risk of encountering other higher races was very low.

  After the city full of people and architecture, it was an earie experience to see the sprawling expanse of land barely untouched by human hands. Mexi took in a deep breath, letting the others disperse around him to their various tasks; Xanran and Rogan went to check their surroundings, while Weix and Vitorous went back inside the Dungeon after ascertaining the magical building landed in the right place.

  “Mexi,” Saainren, the only one left with him, called out briskly. “Let’s set the camp.”

  He let himself be led to the new destination without protest. They stopped quite a way from the Dungeon, wary of the magical backlash potentially destroying the camp, and started setting up. It was decided any magical interference should be limited as well, so they were preparing an old school style camp to be used after they got rid of the Dungeon. Mexi was trying to set up the tent and hammering in the pylons when he hit himself on the hand.

  “Fuck!” He exclaimed with a vehemence. “I’m useless. I’m absolutely useless!”

  “...it’s not about the tent, is it?” Saainren asked carefully, peering at him with concern in his eyes.

  Mexi sat back on his hunches and didn’t look at the prince. Of course, it wasn’t about the tent, it was just the last drop that overflowed the cup.

  “Everybody has a role in this plan... except for me,” Mexi shared his worry.

  “You are doing enough, Mexi. And who knows what will happen in there; it’s good to have someone not occupied with other matters who can react to any problems that will arise,” Saainren soothed, lowering himself at his side, the tent forgotten.

  “React,” Mexi snorted. “What if my reaction will be ’oh no, it’s too late! I can’t do anything now!’ because I didn’t do everything I could to prepare...” He swallowed hard and finally looked at the prince. His steadfast, reliable, trustworthy, and kind prince. “No, I can’t leave it like this. Vitorous mentioned the hardest part will be teleporting out of the Dungeon’s pocket dimension. This whole plan hinges on you getting us out of there and if you don’t have enough power to do it...” he trailed off for a second, imagining the worst possible scenario, but continued, his voice getting stronger with resolve. “You need to have enough power. I will make sure you have it. Saainren, I want you to use me.”

  ∞∞∞

  Xanran ran his hand through his braids, looking at his five companions gathered in the final chamber of the Dungeon, where they met Vitorous for the first time.

  “Are you ready?” he asked them nervously.

  Vitorous raised a mocking brow at him, his hands already raised in preparation for the start of their quest.

  “Are you ready?” Saainren asked quietly in response.

  “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.” Xanran nodded nervously and started changing into his dragon form.

  His body expanded, twisting into a new shape, sprouting golden scales that reflected the wisps of magic slowly drifting in the air. His body coiled in place, wary of the limited space on the floating magical disc that served as the floor of this room, and he waited, ready to spring into action, letting the heat of his dragon breath expand inside himself. Let it grow strong and powerful enough to affect magic.

  Vitorous told them what to expect, but when the rift split the matter overhead and exposed the sheer concentrated magic that was the heart of the dungeon, he felt a shiver go down his spine. So much power. Could he have it? His slitted eyes gazed into the vortex of swirling colors in fascination.

  “...ran-”

  He could just reach out and take it-

  “Xanran!”

  He startled at the shout of his name and realized it wasn’t the first time his lovers called to him. He shook his head, then lifted it towards the bewitching magic, taking a deep breath in, stoking the fire inside-

  The whole world shook when his dragon breath reached the center of the Dungeon’s power, shattering it and then melting the scattered fragments. Cracks started to appear on the magical firmament of the room, the conjuration breaking apart around them.

  The Dungeon’s destruction was in progress. But that wasn’t the only thing they had come here for.

  “Iss’shi, grant me the power to save this soul,” Rogan was fervently beseeching his otherworldly patron for assistance, using the bones of Vitorous’ corpse to get the connection to his soul.

  A spectre flickered to life, a vision of a long-haired human. Was that how Vitorous should have looked? The soul fragment, bound to the strong source of magic, looked at the dissipating vortex, but with its power diminishing it turned its gaze to the next most powerful source of magic in the room.

  Vitorous was holding the Device they have had so painstakingly filled with magic in a white-knuckled grip, staring at the bound part of his soul with wide eyes. A sliver of shimmering hope bloomed in his eyes when the spectre started to float in his direction, his face showing vulnerability that made him look different from the megalomaniac mage persona he usually flaunted. He looked almost human.

  When the soul descended close enough, a barrier flared in place, wished into the existence by Weix’s clerical magic to protect all of them from the fragments of crumbling Dungeon that started falling around them. Weix gave a nod to Saainren and the prince started the ritual incantation that would let them teleport out of this pocket dimension. Everything was going great, they just needed to combine Vitorous’ soul with him and they could go-

  Just as the soul hovered over Vitorous the crystal blinked once, twice, and the light went out, just like the hope in the mage’s eyes.

  Fuck! The magic was depleted! The soul was turning back to the vortex!

  “No!” Weix screamed and threw himself toward Vitorous, abandoning the barrier. Xanran felt the sharp shard of the Dungeon’s broken reality rain down on his skin, rain towards his companions-

  He spread his wings, protecting everyone as best as he could, while Weix got to Vitorous and kissed him with all the power of his love and passion.

  The crystal flickered back to life. The dim light enough to tempt the soul fragment back.

  “We need to go now! Do it!” Mexi shouted to Saainren over the pandemonium of the dimension pocket crumbling around them and yanked his shirt apart showing the magical symbols carved into his body.

  Saainren placed a shaking hand on them, still muttering the teleport incantation under his breath and the symbols flared under his palm. He gasped with the rush of new power and when the lost soul fragment finally merged with Vitorous he was ready to take them all away from this place.

  Good, Xanran thought, just as the multiple wounds his battered dragon body had suffered made him lose consciousness.

  ∞∞∞

  Weix stumbled and nearly fell into a pile of snow.

  Snow!

  It worked! They were out!

  He turned towards the infernal sound escaping from the crumbling portal to the Dungeon, just in time to see it collapse completely, the magic vanishing from the gate, showing the proof of a successful destruction of the Dungeon’s pocket plane.

  He smiled and turned to Vitorous.

  Who was laying on the ground. Motionless.

  Weix’s heart stopped.

  Was it not enough?

  Was he not enough?

  He let his hands go through the motions of a spell, reaching to his Goddess for a boon of healing. For another chance.

  He slammed the healing power into Vitorous’ chest and the body under his hands arched, letting out a pained breath.

  Pain was good.
It meant Vitorous was still alive.

  “Come back to me,” Weix coaxed, his voice breaking, as he poured his deity’s magic into his lover.

  And for once in his life Vitorous listened to him.

  Blue eyes blinked up at him dazedly from an elven face.

  “Weix,” Vitorous whispered softly. “I’m cold,” the mage complained and Weix could do nothing else, but to laugh at him.

  For the next minutes, the next hours everything was going wonderfully. They poured spells and potions into Vitorous and Xanran and patched them as well as they could in their prepared camp. The Dungeon was destroyed, Vitorous’ soul set free, and Weix couldn’t stop smiling. Then Mexi asked an innocent question:

  “Where are you going to go now, Vitorous?”

  The mage perked up, excited for the new possibilities.

  “Now that I don’t have a leash anymore, I have a whole list of places to visit. East from here first, I suppose, I need some warmer weather. Neither of my bodies were made for this cold,” he shivered ostensibly.

  “Crystal Mountains are not cold this time of year,” Weix suggested shyly.

  “Pssh! I want something new! Some excitement! I doubt that region changed much in the past 200 years,” Vitorous rolled his eyes. “Maybe Lotherdom? They were going to open a new theatre there before I died...”

  Vitorous really had a whole list of places to see. None of those places took Weix into account.

  He listened to the object of his affections musing about faraway places, adventures, sights to see and experiences to be had.

  “I have to go back to the Crystal Mountains. My Clan needs me,” Weix cut into the flow of words.

  “All work, no fun, huh? So boring. You should live a little,” Vitorous scowled at him.

  Weix waited for something like ‘come with me, I will show you how to have fun!’, but the words never came. He wouldn’t go even if Vitorous said them, aware he had put the Clan in a bad situation by being unavailable for so long, but he wanted to hear it so much, to know that he was wanted...

  But it become clear he wasn’t.