Switched
Copyright © 2005/2015 by Sean Michael
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Sean Michael, 2515 Bank St., P.O. Box 40001, Ottawa, ON, K1V 0W8.
Printed in Canada.
ISBN: 978-1-988028-24-8
Previously published by Torquere Press electronic edition / 2006
2nd Edition / August 2015
Switched
Sean Michael
Prologue
Valhal Tower, Planet Brandish
Everyone who was anyone – from Maker Himself down to tiny Fata – attended Eventide at Valhal Tower. So rarely did they agree to meet en masse, to stand and peer through the vast windows, to look down into the sheer perfection that was Valhal, that the crystalline structure seemed nearly to vibrate with the sheer weight of their presence.
There existed a tale – some say Gai began it, others swear Luni and Sola invented it between them, not that it matters now – that the jewels the warm Brandish sea spit upon the shore, when touched by the light of the triple suns at dusk, could make mortals into gods.
The gods encouraged that, of course, for the amusement of watching the mortals brave the elements as they sipped their drinks and indulged themselves.
They gathered, some staring out into the growing darkness, some spinning idly around a dance floor covered in stars. One group, though, lounged together upon a circle of pale divans, a throng of hangers-on standing anxiously nearby in hope someone would take note of them, see them.
“They’re just getting so uppity,” Skye’s complaint rang out, clear and bell-like, echoing until someone silenced it. “Arrogant and snooty. Why, many of them don’t even believe the gods exist anymore!”
There were murmurs of agreement all around and Winna, dressed in an almost sheer gown that seemed to move around her constantly, snapped her fingers, their glasses refilling.
“Well, we could always take them down a peg or two, darlings.” Terra ran a hand through her long, brown hair, her smile wicked and fertile.
“Oh! Turn them all into pigs!” The suggestion came from the throng and not a one bothered to see which of the throng of leather-bound boys had suggested it.
Terra shook her head. “Too easy.”
“And boring,” said Maker, his simple white robe seeming to shimmer, his deep basso commanding attention. Well, it was Maker, after all. “It could be most entertaining if we do things correctly.”
The others gathered around, listening to their conversation, joining in as ideas were thrown about, batted back and forth until long after the suns had finally set, the mortals crawling back to their homes, unchanged.
It wasn’t until the twin gods called Gemin appeared, two pairs of black eyes dancing with a wicked plan, that they found their amusement set.
Chapter One
T’ven, Southern Reaches, Brandish Planet
Ritual was important to Walt.
He liked the spirituality of it, the order of it. It was familiar and calming, and it helped him clear his mind, helped him prepare and be ready for his lover.
The water from the shower was warm against his skin, caressing his body. He raised his face to it, smiling. He had washed his hairless skin, everything, even his head, made smooth and pink and clean with warm wax. Now it was time to wash inside. He leaned over the bench in the shower stall, legs spread, and reached back, sliding soapy fingers into himself.
The scent of leather and musk hit him, and he met Coby’s eyes, focused and sharp as his lover leaned against the door frame. “Don’t stop.”
“Yes, Master,” he whispered, eyes staying on Coby, on the long body dressed in tight, dark leather pants and a simple tan tunic, as his ritual moved from familiar and calming to intense and heated.
He used his fingers to loosen his body, spreading, stretching, slicking himself up. Then it was time to slide in the tubing. He moaned softly as the cool plastic entered him. Coby didn’t speak, just stood and watched, eyes cool and sharp, focused.
Oh, to be seen by his Coby, it was a wonder.
He turned the tap, letting the water begin to fill him. A low moan vibrated from him as the water flowed into him, and when he was sure he couldn’t take another drop, he finally turned it off.
Coby moved over, one finger sliding down his spine. “What do you feel?”
He purred, eyes rolling as he licked his lips. “So full.”
“Cleansing yourself for me.” Coby sounded so satisfied, the grey eyes heated.
He loved that he could make Coby sound like that. “Yes, Master, for you.”
Coby’s hand slid down, cupping Walt’s bare sac, rolling his balls, pulling enough to make him feel it. He groaned and bit his lip, concentrating on not spilling the water inside him.
“Mine.” Another long, slow pull.
He moaned this time, body shaking with effort. “Yes, Master.”
“Yes.” His shaft was stroked, hand moving slowly.
Shivering, he clenched his fists, eyes closing. He wasn’t going to be able to hold the water in much longer, not with Coby distracting him so.
“Don’t you spill, baby.” The words were firm, sure.
He shook his head. “I won’t, Master.” And he wouldn’t. No matter how much he needed to. A shudder moved through him.
“I know.” Coby never doubted him. Never. And that confidence gave him the strength to go on, to hold the water inside him and enjoy the firm, slow strokes.
“Tell me what you feel.” Those hands were relentless, they knew everything about him.
“So full. The water. It is pressure inside me. Wanting out. And you. Your hand. So hot. The pleasure is... undeniable.” He gasped between each short sentence, giving Coby everything the man asked for.
Coby’s fingers trailed over his bald scalp, a sweet caress. “Finish, and meet me in the bedroom.”
He nodded. “Yes, Master.”
He waited until Coby was gone and then released his sphincter with a groan, the release of water from his bowels sweet, enough to make him come, but he had not been given permission to do so.
So he did not.
He washed quickly, soaping himself up and then rinsing himself down. He took his time to dry himself properly -- Coby would not want him rushed and uncentered. At the same time, he moved quickly. He had no desire to make his Master wait.
Music filled the air, heavy and steady, but not angry, a sure weathervane of his lover’s mood. He found himself moving to the beat, slinking into their bedroom, his cock bobbing.
Coby was waiting, eyes shining and heating, still dressed. “You are ready for me.” It was not a question.
Walt bowed his head. “Always, Master.”
“Undress me.”
“Yes, Master.” He moved toward Coby, wanting to rip the clothes from his Master’s body. “How would you like me to do it?”
“Worship me. Touch me. Take your time.”
He beamed. “Yes, Master.”
He went to his knees, bending to work open the clasps of Coby’s boots. Coby moved to the music, just a bit, eyes focused on him, that gaze constant. He shone within that gaze, fingers trembling as he worked the first boot off.
The scent of the leather was heady, strong. Rich. Right. He wanted to bend and kiss Coby’s foot, but he would only do as he had been told; his want was too great to risk Coby’s displeasure. The second boot came off as well, and he placed them both neatly beside the bed.
His eyebrows were traced, the slope of his nose. The touch was soft, caressing. Approving. He cherished each touch, each sign of approval and love.
His hands slid up along the le
ather pants, slowly moving toward Coby’s waistband. Coby was hard, cock pressing against the laces. He swallowed and licked his lips, but didn’t touch. Instead he tugged at Coby’s shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of his pants. Coby’s belly was tight, firm, the dark hairs that crowned the heavy cock just visible in the low-slung pants.
“May I touch?” he asked softly, wanting only to kiss Coby’s belly, to taste and bring pleasure to his Master. He pushed Coby’s shirt higher, waiting for his answer.
“Yes. Yes, touch me.”
“Thank you, Master.” He leaned forward, mouth sliding over the warm skin just above those tempting curls. He moaned, fingers pushing the shirt right off as his mouth explored. Coby’s hands stroked his head, stomach rippling.
He worshipped his Master with fingers and lips, anointing the warm skin with his kisses. His fingers were trembling by the time he came to undoing the laces of the tight leather pants. He could smell Coby, rich and musky, heady. Male. His tongue slid into Coby’s navel, tasting the salt there.
Oh, that low chuckle was delicious. Addictive. It made him shiver, and he licked again, filling himself with that incredible taste. He started to pull Coby’s leather pants from his legs, moaning as the sharp scent came into focus.
“You want me, my cock, my come.”
“Yes, Master.” He did. He wanted everything that Coby would give him. Coby nodded, watching him, waiting.
He pulled Coby’s pants off, folding them neatly and placing them next to the boots. Turning back, he stopped for a moment to admire the long body, the strong muscles. Oh, Coby was perfection.
Coby reached down, started pumping that long, heavy cock, slow, sure. Walt moaned, licking his lips. He could practically taste Coby on his tongue. He yearned to feel that heat and hardness inside him, filling him up. Strong thighs parted, hips pushing, moving the hard flesh through Coby’s grip, Coby’s eyes on him.
“Master...” he whispered, hands reaching, but not touching.
“Tell me what you need.”
“I need to be filled by you. My mouth. My body. All of me, Master.”
“All of you.” Coby arched, grunted. “Your mouth. Now.”
He went to his knees quickly enough they stung as they hit the floor, his mouth open, swallowing that long, fat cock. He got the pleasure of Coby’s low cry, that cock pushing deep, taking his mouth. He opened his throat, letting Coby all the way in. His lips wrapped tight, dragging against the soft, soft skin as Coby’s cock slid in and out of his mouth.
It was good -- hot and hard with the sharp flavor of Coby in his mouth.
“If you can keep me hard after I shoot, I’ll fuck you ‘til you come.” Coby’s voice was a deep growl. Walt whimpered and nodded that he had understood. He would keep Coby hard.
One hand cradled the back of his head, hips pumping harder, faster. He took it all, took everything that Coby gave him, and begged for more with muffled sounds and the undulations of his body. Coby arched, stomach rippling, come filling Walt’s throat. He swallowed down every last drop, throat closing several times over the tip of Coby’s cock.
His fingers slid to the heavy balls, rolling them, encouraging the pleasure to stay within Coby, to keep him hard.
“Yes.” That strong hand slid down to his nape, nails just scraping.
He cried out, still sucking strongly around Coby’s cock, fingers slipping behind the hot balls to jostle the flesh beyond them. True to his skill and Coby’s desire, the hard cock in his mouth never flagged. His head bobbed enthusiastically, giving Coby as much pleasure as he could until Coby decided it was time for his reward.
His jaw was tired when Coby pulled back, moved to the bed, cock standing tall. “Ride me.”
Moaning, Walt climbed the bed and straddled Coby’s hips. He was shaking with eagerness, hand putting Coby’s cock at his hole.
Coby reached out, fingers stroking his thigh. “When we’re finished, I’ll plug you. Let you keep me deep inside you.”
“Oh, Master.” He thrilled to the touch, the words. Coby was so good to him. He sank down upon Coby’s cock, eyes rolling as that thickness spread him wide.
“Mine. No one else can have you. Touch you. No one.”
He shook his head. “Yours, Master.” Why would he want anyone else to touch him?
He began to rise and fall, moaning at the sensations.
“Yes.” Coby’s hands landed on his hips, helping him, adding that strength to his own.
His back arched, his hands dropping to Coby’s belly as he moved. The pleasure was intense, all-encompassing.
“I have waited for this all day.” Coby bucked up, cock sliding past his gland.
He cried out as sparks shot through him. “Me, too,” he whispered.
“Oh. There.” Coby chuckled, began pegging him, again and again, the sensations wild.
He rode faster and harder, just bouncing on Coby. Coby’s hand wrapped around his cock, pumping, pulling.
“Master!” He shook with the need to come, pleasure cycling through him, building and building with no way to get out.
“Yes?” Those eyes were hot, focused.
“Please, Master,” he whispered, begging with his body, ass clenching tightly.
“Please what, baby?”
“Let me come, Master. Please.” He would beg if it was what his Master wanted.
“Kiss me.” He nodded and bent forward, lips meeting Coby’s with a groan. Coby fucked his lips with that hot tongue, tasted him, eyes burning for him. “Come. Now.”
He cried out, body clamping down hard on Coby’s cock as heat sprayed from his own. The climax was wild, spreading pleasure to all ends of his body. Coby held him, rocking him, lips on his temple.
“Oh, Master. Thank you.” He felt so lucky. So loved.
He felt Coby’s smile. “My beautiful one.”
He beamed with pride at the compliment. “Yours, Master. Everything that I am.”
“Yes.” Coby reached out, fingers wrapping around a plug. “I’m going to put this in, and then we can enjoy our evening together.”
“It will be my pleasure, Master.” The gift of Coby’s seed, of their combined pleasure, of time together, these were magnificent things.
Those light and dark eyes shone at him, pleased, loving him. “Mine as well.”
Oh, his heart was full. He leaned his head on Coby’s chest. “You honor me,” he whispered.
Coby kissed the top of his head. “You have earned it.”
He beamed, ass squeezing Coby’s cock. In a moment it would be replaced by the plug, but for now, he held its heat and hardness within him. Coby groaned, hand sliding the plug down his spine, teasing him. He shivered and tightened around Coby’s cock again. He met those beautiful eyes, letting all his feelings show.
Coby smiled, kissing him, stealing his breath away. He didn’t know how Coby could do that, could steal his focus and train it on a single point of his body, but this was not the first time that all else was forgotten as he lost himself in Coby’s kiss.
The kiss distracted him, Coby’s prick sliding away, the plug stretching him. His focus snapped back to his lower body as the plug reached its widest point, the tip brushing across his gland, making him gasp at the sharp jolt of pleasure.
Coby chuckled, eyes dancing. “Mine.”
“Oh, yes.” He nodded. Coby always surprised him, kept him on his toes.
Coby wrapped around him, held him, nose to nose. “Tell me about your day.”
This was their time, close and quiet, Coby his lover, his best friend.
“I missed you today. Every time I bent to pick something up there was a twinge, reminding me of what we did yesterday. It was delicious.”
“Mmmm... the look in your eyes yesterday.” He got a warm smile, a kiss.
“Yes, I enjoyed the look in yours as well.” Coby had been wild, rough and intense. He leaned up for another kiss. “Did you have a good day?”
“I did.” Coby was a master welder -- he worked underwa
ter, in the air, anywhere, helping to create beauty in the buildings that rose into the air in magnificent shapes, glass and chrome resting on plassteel in breathtaking patterns. “I started the McBarton job today.”
“Is that the one at the zoo?” Walt’s fingers shifted to Coby’s arm, sliding along the tattoo that circled it.”
“Mm-hmm. There are amazing animals there, baby. You’ll have to come and see.”
“I would like that, Coby.” He loved going to Coby’s jobs, seeing the things his lover created.
“Plan on next week, then. We will visit the zoo and then go for supper, go dancing.”
“Eating after the zoo?” The animals were carriers of disease and germs; he wasn’t sure eating without a shower, disinfecting, was a good idea.
“Yes, baby.”
“O…okay.” He would do it for Coby. But that didn’t mean he didn’t think it was a bad idea.
Coby took his chin in one hand, eyes meeting his. “Focus right here, Walt.”
“Yes, Master,” he murmured, letting himself get lost in those strange and beautiful eyes. They were light grey ringed with dark. He had never seen eyes like that before, not even in someone who’d had themselves altered. The act soothed him, eased him deep inside.
“I love you, Coby,” he murmured. He stroked Coby’s hair from his face and traced the familiar and loved features. There were times he would not take such liberties without permission, but in this time of togetherness he felt comfortable expressing himself in such a way.
Coby’s eyes warmed, the smile pleased, almost sweet. “Love you, baby.”
He beamed and cuddled in. “Would you like late meal, Coby?”
“Yes, in a moment. I am comfortable here.”
He nodded, cheek sliding along Coby’s chest. “Yes, I am, too.”
“Rest, now. We’ll eat later.” Coby chuckled. “Maybe you can feed me and I’ll nibble your fingers.”
“That sounds most tortuous and delicious, Coby.” And look at him, not mentioning how unsanitary it could be. Especially if they ate in bed. “We could eat in bed.”
“That sounds perfect.” The approval washed over him.
He pushed away the reactions he could not control and instead enjoyed that approval, Coby’s happiness. “It does.”
switched Page 1