Into the Wind

by Anthony, Shira

  The king was dressed in silks, a circlet of hammered gold set with blazing red stones peering out from dark hair that fell in waves over his shoulders. He was younger than Taren imagined he might be, younger than Rider, although strands of silver flecked his beard. His fierce gaze and air of self-confidence were powerful and attractive, although had he seen the man in a crowded marketplace, Taren guessed he’d not have looked twice. Several male courtesans lazed about on silk cushions, their eyes and lips painted like women’s, their hair adorned with jewels, their bodies covered in the finest cloth. They did not appear pleased to see Odhrán.

  “Is he not beautiful, Your Majesty?” said a voice from behind him. Luka. Luka, the human who had rescued him from himself before he could take his own life to end his pain. The man he loved with his entire soul. He would do anything for Luka. Anything. Do anything. Be anything. Anyone.

  “He is lovely,” the king said as he motioned Odhrán to rise.

  “Turn around so he can better appreciate your charms.” Luka offered him a reassuring smile and gestured Odhrán to turn slowly. “He is more than just lovely, Your Majesty. He can be the most beautiful boy in the world if you wish it.”

  Odhrán’s heart beat hard against his ribs when he heard Luka speak of him this way. Luka had loaned him to other men, but only when there was too little food to feed them or when the landlord came to call for the rent. But to be presented to the king? This he did not understand. When he’d asked Luka where he’d found the jewels, Luka had only replied that a wealthy friend had loaned them to him and that he wished to display Odhrán as some of the slave owners did so that all could admire his charms.

  “But I’m not a slave,” Odhrán had said.

  “Of course not. And you are far more beautiful. But is it wrong for them to admire you and be jealous?” Luka laved his neck with kisses and stroked his back until he quieted. He trusted Luka. Luka was everything. Luka was life to him.

  “He is quite beautiful,” the king said with a disinterested nod. “But there are many like him. I have no need for another.”

  “He is unlike the others, Majesty.” Luka risked much, speaking thus to such a powerful man, and Odhrán’s fear grew.

  The king laughed. “They are all alike. Eager to please. Well bred for it. Soft skin. Tight little holes. What do you offer that is different?”

  “He has magic, Majesty.”

  No. No one must know of my magic. Luka told me this himself! Odhrán turned to Luka, uncomprehending, seeking answers. The only response Luka gave was to tug on the leash and force Odhrán’s head forward once more.

  “Magic?” The king chuckled. Some of the other men in the room snickered to hear this as well. “Every young man has a certain magic, I suppose.”

  “No, sire. He is not like us. His magic is not like the others’.” Luka parted Odhrán’s lips and pressed two vellberries inside, letting his fingers linger so that Odhrán might suck them. Odhrán swallowed the bitter fruit as he always did, knowing only too well what the result would be. He did not understand why Luka would want the king to know of his magic, but he would not deny Luka. He owed Luka his life many times over, and he lived to please him.

  Luka, who had taken him in when he’d lain dying by the water. He’d wanted to die, but Luka had insisted he survive. He’d nursed Odhrán back to health and fed his mind with poetry and books. Odhrán had been young, barely fifteen, but he’d been powerfully attracted to Luka just the same. Luka had given him a home where he felt safe, and for nearly five years, he had submitted to Luka willingly. Happily.

  The king appeared intrigued by Luka’s words. He waved away the male courtesans, who disappeared from the room, looking sullen. Only Odhrán, Luka, and the king’s guards remained. “Show me this magic,” he commanded, his gaze never leaving Odhrán’s naked body.

  By now Odhrán’s cock was so hard it ached, the berries having done their work to ease his fear. The berries, Luka had once explained, helped free Odhrán’s mind as well as his body, allowing his magic to flow.

  “What do you prefer, Majesty? Dark hair? Ginger? Or blond?” As Luka spoke the words, he fingered Odhrán’s hair. It had grown long in his time with Luka and now nearly reached his waist; Luka had forbidden him from cutting it. “How young? How delicate?”

  Odhrán could see from the king’s expression that the king did not believe he possessed magic. The king laughed and motioned for the guards to remove them both from his chamber. But Odhrán could already feel his body beginning to change in response to the king’s thoughts. His arms lengthened and he grew slightly taller, his chest expanding, and downy hair covered the space between his tan nipples. His skin became paler than before, his hair a dark auburn. He wasn’t sure about his eyes, although he knew they had changed too. He felt his body change even though he was powerless to control it, driven as it was by the king’s thoughts and desires.

  The king waved the guards away. They, too, were clearly enthralled by what they had just witnessed, though they moved to the entrance and stood at attention.

  “What do you wish, Majesty?” Luka asked as he pulled one of the rings on Odhrán’s nipples. Odhrán shuddered.

  “Show me how you play with him.” The king wet his lips and leaned back in his chair.

  Luka grinned, then nodded. Odhrán watched, unsure of what to make of Luka’s offer. The king’s interest he understood all too well. But Luka? Did he intend to ask the king for money afterward?

  “Come here,” Luka said as he touched a finger to Odhrán’s chin. “Help me show His Majesty how beautiful you are.”

  Odhrán shivered at the delicate touch and his cock strained against the stone ring. If he performed well, perhaps Luka would allow him his own pleasure. If not, he’d be happy just to have served Luka.

  Luka drew the transparent silk wrap from Odhrán’s body. Although it had hidden nothing, Odhrán felt far more vulnerable without it. He felt the king’s eyes on his body, sensed his appreciation, and breathed deeply to steady his racing heart.

  Before, Odhrán had only noticed the king as he sat on the gilded chair. Now, he took in the surroundings. Heavy silk tapestries covered the stone walls, and beautifully woven rugs covered the wood floors, warming the room and giving it the feeling of a sumptuous cocoon.

  “Bring him closer,” the king commanded.

  Luka did as he was told. This close, Odhrán could smell the musk of the king’s arousal and hear his stuttered breaths. Luka kissed Odhrán, soft and sweet at first, then plunged his tongue between Odhrán’s lips and claimed the prize of his mouth. Odhrán moaned his pleasure and pressed toward Luka, wanting more, needing more, breathless and hungry for it.

  Luka once again tugged at a nipple ring, causing Odhrán to cry out in pain. “Pain and pleasure, Majesty,” Luka said in a low voice. “See how he longs for more of it.”

  “Yes, please,” Odhrán whispered.

  “Lovely.” The king’s rumbled laughter filled the room as Luka caught Odhrán’s lips again and plundered his mouth.

  Luka traced his hand over the surface of Odhrán’s belly and found Odhrán’s hard member. He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive tip, spreading the wetness he found there before gripping Odhrán tightly in his fist.

  “Goddess!” shouted Odhrán. As it often did when he took another form, his voice sounded unfamiliar to his own ears: melodic, throaty. Not a woman’s voice, but mellifluous, like the sound of a lute strummed for a lover.

  A hand brushed his ass cheeks, then kneaded them roughly. Not Luka’s hand, Odhrán realized with surprise, but the king’s. The king’s hands were smooth, but his touch was anything but gentle as he pulled the globes apart and ran a single finger over Odhrán’s opening. Instinctively, Odhrán tried to pull away, but Luka held him firmly in place and whispered reassuringly in his ear, “I wish this. I wish to share your beauty with him.”

  Odhrán forced himself to relax into the king’s touch. If Luka wished to share him thus, he would not protest. Luka knew
what was best for him. Luka was kind. Luka loved him.

  “So tight,” the king said as he pressed the tip of his finger inside. Dry as it was, Odhrán gritted his teeth against the burn. Luka sometimes breached him that way; in fact, Odhrán liked the sensation. But when the king shoved several fingers inside without preparation, Odhrán whimpered and felt hot tears of pain on his face.

  Once again Luka whispered to him, calming him like one might calm an anxious child, soothing him until the tears abated and kissing him again. “That’s my beautiful Odhrán,” Luka murmured as Odhrán stilled. “So beautiful.”

  Luka allowed Odhrán to lay his head against his shoulder as the king continued to probe his opening with his large fingers. Each moan, each pant was met with Luka stroking his hair and making reassurances. The pain flared, then died as Luka began to stroke Odhrán’s cock once more.

  The king withdrew his fingers and Odhrán gasped in response. “Enough of this,” he said. “I wish to see him take you in his mouth.”

  “Of course, Majesty,” Luka said as he guided Odhrán to a wooden settee and pushed him to his knees before it. The cushions were covered in brightly colored threads that depicted a hunting scene where a doe lay bleeding on pale silver snow. The doe’s eyes were wide with fear, as if she knew her death was imminent. Beautiful and terrifying.

  “Undress me,” Luka said as the king nodded his approval. Luka sat down on the cushion, obscuring the tapestry, and yanked on Odhrán’s leash. Odhrán knew Luka did this for the king’s benefit; he would never disobey Luka’s commands.

  My life for you, Luka.

  Odhrán lifted himself up off his knees, then drew Luka’s tunic over his head. He stopped briefly to admire Luka’s caramel skin and the smooth line of his neck and shoulders. He had never seen a man as handsome as Luka, with his strong chest and arms, narrow waist, and powerful thighs. Odhrán loved Luka’s masculine form, loved how fragile he felt in Luka’s grasp.

  Luka stood up so Odhrán could untie his pantaloons, then waited patiently as Odhrán eased them over his hips. Luka was naked beneath the linen, as always. The thought made Odhrán ache for Luka’s cock.

  “Only for you, beautiful Odhrán,” Luka had told him after he’d made love to Odhrán the first time. He’d taken Odhrán in his arms, caressed every inch of his body, tasted his skin, his mouth, his cock. In Luka’s arms he’d learned his body could bring him pleasure. Luka taught him to give pleasure, as well. Before Luka found him, Odhrán had never felt the kind touch of another person, man or woman. The Ea had feared him, and his human mother had not survived his birth. He’d been raised by the people of his mother’s village until he’d transformed when he was only ten years old. They’d called him a monster and nearly killed him. But he’d lived.

  “Taste me,” Luka told him as he leaned back on the settee. “Show His Majesty how beautiful your mouth can be.”

  Odhrán did as Luka asked. He loved the way Luka tasted, the salty sweetness of his seed and the aroma of spices from the scented oil he favored. Odhrán pushed back the foreskin to lave Luka’s tip, then nipped playfully at the edges the way Luka liked. Luka tilted his head back and parted his lips, moaning loudly enough that Odhrán knew he did so for the king’s pleasure, although the tremors in Luka’s body were meant for no one other than him.

  Odhrán dared lift his gaze to the king, who had shifted in his seat, the fabric of his silk pants stretched tight at his groin, his eyes glazed with satisfaction. Would the king take him after Luka? If Luka wished it, Odhrán would gladly share his body with another man.

  “Yes, gods, yes!” Luka shouted.

  Around and around Odhrán worked his tongue in circles as he sucked and pulled to Luka’s increasingly bold words. As Odhrán sensed Luka near his climax, he realized the king had gotten up from his chair and was standing nearby, watching them both with approval. Luka cried out his release and shuddered beneath Odhrán’s lips while Odhrán savored every drop of the precious liquid he offered.

  “Would you like to feel his glorious mouth?” Luka asked the king in a voice rough with passion.

  Odhrán smiled shyly at the king, not meeting his eyes. The king grasped him by his shoulders and plunged his tongue into his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, Odhrán saw Luka was pleased. Seeing Luka’s pleasure made his body thrum with renewed desire. The king grasped the globes of Odhrán’s ass with his large hands and kneaded them until the flesh stung. Odhrán’s moans encouraged the king, who traced a finger downward to find the prize hidden between Odhrán’s nethercheeks.

  By now Odhrán was painfully hard and longing for his own climax. He imagined the king’s hands were Luka’s. He glanced at Luka, who smiled and asked, “Do you want the king to fuck you?”

  Odhrán nodded. A moment later, the king pushed him against the wall and probed his opening again with his fingers. It thrilled him to have Luka watch or take him in front of others. Feeling Luka’s gaze on him as someone else used his body, seeing Luka’s pleasure, knowing that Luka found him beautiful, gave him pleasure.

  The king pushed Odhrán’s shoulders down so that he stood with his ass splayed, his body vulnerable. His form changed again with the king’s touch, sculpting itself to satisfy the king’s desire. This didn’t surprise Odhrán—he’d long learned his body would respond to his lovers’ touches regardless of his own preference. If it pleased Luka, he didn’t mind.

  Luka stood up and petted his hair as the king kneaded his ass. There was no kindness in the king’s touch, but Odhrán didn’t care that it hurt. With each cry of pain, Luka was there to comfort him, following each of his cries with a gentle kiss. When the king swatted him, Luka was there to trace fingers over his back and shoulders. Pain and gratification in equal measure—oh how he loved this!

  “Yes… Majesty… oh, yes!” he shouted as the king filled his hole with all four of his fingers, pressing inside up to his knuckles.

  Odhrán heard the king’s grunt of satisfaction as, a moment later, he withdrew his hand and plunged his member into Odhrán’s body, ruthlessly thrusting as he twisted, grabbed Odhrán’s hips, and dug his fingers into Odhrán’s flesh. Luka was there, urging Odhrán to abandon himself to the sensation, praising his beauty and his submission.

  Odhrán craved release. The cock ring was painful now, but he would wait, as he always did, until Luka gave him permission to come. He knew it pleased Luka that way.

  The king pulled hard on his long hair, forcing him to lift his head. Then the king caressed his neck and his cheeks and traced his lips with his fingers, stifling Odhrán’s moan with a hand over Odhrán’s mouth and nose. For the first time since he’d been with Luka, Odhrán felt true terror. Not since he’d left the Ea had he felt so vulnerable. He struggled against the king’s hand not because he couldn’t breathe but because his fear was too great. He remembered the Ea boys who had beat him as the others held him down.

  No, please. Let me go! The room seemed too small, too hot. Luka! Luka would help him. Luka would make sure no harm came to him.

  But Luka did not move. Didn’t tell the king to stop. Luka said nothing.

  Odhrán’s vision clouded. He struggled to contain his rising panic, struggled not to fight the king’s hand over his face. Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, the king shuddered and swore as he released his grip on Odhrán, then pulled out. Odhrán dropped to his knees on the hard stone floor, too boneless to cry out in pain.

  “Stand up,” Luka commanded. Odhrán struggled to his feet and swayed, only to feel Luka’s steadying hand in the small of his back. “Now stroke yourself. Show the king your pleasure.”

  Odhrán’s cock, which had softened in his panic, responded to Luka’s voice. With several strokes, Odhrán grew hard once again.

  “My beautiful Odhrán,” Luka said in an undertone—words meant for Odhrán’s ears alone. “With your lovely white shoulders and your graceful neck. You were meant to be admired by royalty. Show me your pleasure.”

  Odhrán closed
his eyes and imagined Luka’s hand in place of his own. His breath quickened and the pain in his knees abated as he squeezed and pulled. By now he knew he’d returned to his original form in response to Luka’s desire—the soft caress of his hair tickled the bare skin of his ass. He parted his lips and exhaled, feeling Luka’s steadying presence nearby and knowing he wanted this. Wanted him. Thought him beautiful.

  “That’s it,” Luka told him as he reached down and unlocked the clasp on the cock ring. “Show me, Odhrán. Show us your beauty. Come for me!”

  “Ahhh!” Odhrán shouted as he painted the marble floor with his seed. Luka! For you, Luka! Only for you!

  The king smiled before taking Odhrán’s softening cock in his hand. He rubbed the hypersensitive tip with his thumb, then licked his fingers and rubbed it once again. Too tender to the touch, Odhrán cried out and pulled away to avoid the contact. With his free hand, the king grabbed Odhrán by the wrist and shoved his arm behind him to the point of pain. Odhrán whimpered but forced himself to endure the touch. Luka looked on approvingly.

  For Luka, he told himself. Anything for him.

  “WHAT DO you want for it?” the king asked after he’d called for his servants to clean him up.

  Odhrán shivered to realize the king had just referred to him as a thing, like chattel. “Luka?” he whispered as he shivered with fear and recognition.

  Luka patted his head and murmured words of comfort. “I couldn’t possibly part with him, sire,” Luka said after a pause.

  Odhrán relaxed to hear these words. For a moment he’d almost imagined….

  “I can offer you much,” the king said. “Gold. A dukedom if you wish.”

  “Really, Your Majesty, I couldn’t—”