Prince of Tricks

by Jane Kindred

  Vasily turned around, rubbing soap over his chest, as Belphagor climbed in and closed the curtain. Vasily smoothed his soapy hand down to his cock. “Are you going to help me with this?”

  “No.” Belphagor gave him a dark smile and stroked his own. “You’re going to help me with this. Kneel.”

  Vasily was indignant. “In the water?”

  “Don’t make me drop you to your knees myself, malchik. I don’t want you to slip and crack your skull.”

  Vasily stared at him for a few seconds as if he were daring him to do it, and then seemed to think better of it and sank to his knees. Water beaded in his hair and rolled over it onto his face.

  Belphagor stepped forward and tapped the head of his cock against Vasily’s lips. “Open, boy. Are you going to make me direct you every step of the way?”

  Vasily glared up at him defiantly and opened his mouth, but did nothing more when Belphagor’s cock filled it. Belphagor sighed. Vasily was definitely feeling better. He gripped the roots of Vasily’s hair above his forehead and tilted him back and began to fuck him, watching Vasily blink and gasp for air a bit under the running water hitting his face.

  “You’re a very stubborn boy,” Belphagor said as he thrust. “You seem to need constant reminders that you belong to me and I’ll do what I like with you.” His lip curled at the sight of Vasily’s large firespirit cock bobbing against his abs in response to this statement. “I suppose I’ll have to make it clearer to you. After I’m done with you here, you’ll return to the room naked and give your ass to whomever you find waiting.”

  Vasily’s eyes widened as he sucked automatically, forgetting he was playing the role of the uncooperative brat.

  “You didn’t think I’d do it, did you?” Belphagor breathed in deeply to keep from coming too soon. “You thought I was speaking idly of having you fucked while I watch.” He let out a soft groan of excitement as Vasily moaned involuntarily around his cock, now sucking in earnest. “We discussed it while you were sleeping, and both Dmitri and Lev expressed the desire to fuck your ass. And you’re going to take it, as many times as they like.”

  Belphagor hissed out a breath, pulling back when Vasily swallowed against him hard in anticipation of what he could tell was coming. “Not in your mouth, malchik.” He fucked him shallowly, barely holding on, and turned off the water. “Don’t want you too clean,” he said and pulled out, coming just a little sooner than he’d meant to and hitting the side of Vasily’s mouth before he aimed lower and jerked out the rest in a thick line down his chest that once more dripped over him and settled in the soft rusty curls at the root of his throbbing cock. Vasily stared openmouthed and furious, and Belphagor bent down and licked the bit from his face, kissing him forcibly before he climbed out of the tub and dried off. “You leave the rest of that there. Get out of the tub and go wait on the dining room carpet until we want to use you.”

  Vasily’s face was red as he rose, jism dripping down his clean abs. He stepped out and stood in front of Belphagor as if to menace him with his height and then opened the door and walked to the bedroom soaking wet.

  Belphagor dressed and went out to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea, where he sat and drank it at his leisure. Dmitri and Lev had gone out. When he decided Vasily must be sufficiently furious and humiliated, and seething with outrage, he went into the guestroom. Belphagor bit his lip at the sight of his boy on his hands and knees in the center of the carpet, his naked ass to the door. He almost wished he hadn’t come yet so he could fuck him there after all, but the look on Vasily’s face when he’d soiled him with spunk after a week of being forced to wear it and finally getting clean had been worth forgoing more vigorous enjoyment.

  “Stand up,” he ordered.

  Vasily turned his head, his eyes full of rage, and red both inside and around the rims. He looked past Belphagor to the open door, his gaze flicking about in search of the two Grigori. He rose slowly and turned to face Belphagor, his cock raging more furiously than he was.

  “They weren’t interested,” said Belphagor, keeping a straight expression as Vasily’s face fell before his mouth flattened into a thin line of resentment. Belphagor stood in front of him, and then dropped to his knees and began licking him clean.

  Vasily made a full-bodied jolt of surprise, his head jerking up toward the door once more and then down, in a kind of baffled double-take, while Belphagor sucked the spunk from his curly hair and slid his tongue slowly over the red cock to the head.

  “What are you doing?” Vasily finally managed in a hoarse whisper of astonishment.

  Belphagor glanced up at him. “If you can’t tell, dear boy, I’m not doing it very well.” He winked and swallowed Vasily to the root.

  Vasily groaned loudly as Belphagor worked his way up and down the shaft, taking his considerable length deep. The firespirit’s legs were shaking already. Belphagor had probably put him through too much too quickly after finding him feeling so much better. Sucking him vigorously, he slid his finger up Vasily’s ass, and Vasily jerked forward in surprise at the sensation, nearly fell over him as his locked knees almost gave way, and ejaculated copiously into the back of Belphagor’s throat with a shout. It stung a bit going down. He hadn’t given the boy enough warning, and it was near boiling.

  When he’d emptied him, he caught the trembling demon around the waist as he practically melted to the ground. Belphagor buried his face in Vasily’s lap for good measure and sucked any last remnants from his skin. He raised his head and winked. “Squeaky clean.” And then he tilted Vasily back in his arms and kissed the hell out of him.

  Vosmaya

  There was the awkward problem of having no clothes. Vasily wasn’t about to put on the come-stained jeans and shirt he’d been wearing, and apparently there was no washerwoman who collected the laundry. They had to wash their own clothes in the sink or tub and then hang them on a line outside the kitchen window to dry. Belphagor had considerately washed both Vasily’s garments and his own while Vasily was resting, but at this time of year, it could take days for the clothes to dry.

  Dmitri was the only person in the apartment close enough to Vasily’s size for a dressing gown, at least, to fit over his broad shoulders. Markedly uncomfortable, Vasily finally consented to come out and meet Belphagor’s friends, wrapped in the borrowed garment. Belphagor insisted that he wear the house shoes they’d provided when he first arrived, telling him that walking in his bare feet would make him sick. He’d always gone about their room in bare feet at home. The world of Man must be full of invisible dangers.

  Dmitri seemed nice enough, if a little stand-offish, but the angel-faced, dusty-haired Lev, he took an instant dislike to. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the demon. He was friendly and charming. Too charming. Belphagor’s attraction to him was immediately evident.

  After they’d been introduced, Vasily sat at the kitchen table and tried not to scowl too obviously as he watched the interaction between Belphagor and the sexually provocative Grigori. Belphagor claimed to have only just met him, but while Vasily had been tossing with fever for the past forty-eight hours, they seemed to have become fast friends. He wondered that Dmitri didn’t take issue with their flirtatious banter. But perhaps that was why he seemed a bit cold.

  Lev seemed to be the cook of the house, and he stirred up a dinner of sausage and dilled potatoes while the others talked and smoked. Belphagor’s enthusiasm over the meal seemed a little much to Vasily. It was filling and palatable, but anyone would have thought it was a gourmet meal in an angelic bistro the way he was going on about it.

  Russia, it seemed, had the best everything—things that had apparently been lacking in Raqia, though Belphagor had never complained—and Lev was like Russia personified.

  “You missed out on Lev’s blini,” said Belphagor as he sat back with a cigar Dmitri had provided after dinner. “We’ll have to see if we can get him to make them again tomorrow. Maybe blini for dinner?”

  Vasily had no idea what bl
ini was, but he began to imagine it was the thin demon’s cock by the way Belphagor was sucking up to him about it.

  Then the vodka was brought out, and Vasily tried to drown his annoyance and jealousy, taking pleasure in the competitive nature of their drinking ritual. After the second bottle was opened, he was feeling nicely numb, and it had loosened his tongue a bit until he was competing with Lev for clever flirtation. At least, it seemed clever at the time, though afterward he concluded it had been rather stupid. Alcohol always made him think he was much more entertaining than he actually was.

  Belphagor had gotten him to show off his cigar-lighting trick, with his heat concentrated into the tip of his tongue, and had made a suggestive comment about what else he could do with it.

  Lev asked whether he wasn’t being a bit tongue-in-cheek, which the three of them seemed to find hilarious—apparently a reference to some earlier amusement they’d shared while he was sick. Vasily hated being on the outside of a joke.

  “And what tricks do you do?” he’d asked Lev.

  “Oh, nothing that clever,” said Lev, which Vasily took to mean his trick had been anything but.

  “Oh, come on,” said Vasily. “I’ve shown you mine. Let’s see yours.”

  Belphagor laughed, chewing on his cigar. “I don’t think you’ve quite shown them yours yet, dear boy. I’m sure it’s entirely too early in the evening for our hosts to engage in a game of show-and-tell.”

  “Not too early for me.” Lev borrowed Dmitri’s cigar instead of lighting one of his own, taking a sensuous puff on it as if it were more than a cigar.

  “Maybe we could start with a game of wingcasting,” Belphagor suggested, looking amused. “Dmitri, do you still have that deck and die I gave you?”

  Dmitri smiled. “I do, in fact. Excellent idea.” He got up and went down the hall to dig through a wooden secretary in the foyer.

  “What’s wingcasting?” asked Lev.

  Belphagor raised an eyebrow in a way that seemed more than just friendly. “Oh, you’re in for a treat.”

  “You’ll soon find out why they call him Prince of Tricks,” said Dmitri as he returned to the kitchen with the set.

  Belphagor winked. “That’s not the only reason they call me that.”

  “Yes, well, maybe you’ll show us the other reason later.” Dmitri was smiling back at him as if they were both aware of the subtext.

  Vasily suddenly recognized the less obvious flirting that had been going on between the two of them all evening. It had been a subdued, comfortable undertone of knowing looks and slightly caustic yet affectionate banter that Vasily hadn’t consciously been aware of while concentrating on Lev’s shameless behavior. Lev’s and Belphagor’s exchange had been the kind of hopeful, teasing escalation between two men who were interested in finding out what it would be like to fuck each other but not sure they’d get the chance. A sort of unspoken, mutual reassurance that each was hot enough to attract someone they found hot in return.

  But Belphagor had fucked Dmitri before.

  Vasily helped himself to another drink while Belphagor dealt the cards and explained the rules of the game to Lev. He was doing it too intimately for Vasily’s taste, leaning over to show him a practice hand and demonstrating what he could do with various combinations of cards.

  “The real skill in the game is in keeping an eye on what your opponent does,” said Belphagor, “without letting on you’re watching.” He tossed the practice cards in the center of the table and picked up the die and cast.

  “Salamander,” Dmitri called out casually, apparently perusing his hand while the die flew from Belphagor’s fingers into the cake pan Dmitri had set on the table to simulate the marble-sided wingcasting surface.

  The die landed on Toad. Dmitri glanced at it briefly and tossed a Virtue of Facets on the discard pile beside it.

  “Wait,” said Lev. “What was that?”

  “Casting wing,” said Belphagor. “Ptarmigan.” Dmitri had already cast, and it landed on Phoenix, but Belphagor had taken up the discarded Virtue and tossed a Power of Knives onto the table.

  “Slow down. I’m confused.” Lev was glancing from his cards to the one in the center, while Vasily cast.

  “You’re supposed to call it,” said Belphagor with a friendly nudge to Lev.

  “What?”

  The die had already landed.

  “Sorry, no ‘What’ on the die, so you lose the cast. Toss down a card.”

  Lev looked flustered. “Which card?”

  “Some more vodka, doll?” asked Dmitri sweetly, filling Lev’s glass.

  “Any card,” said Belphagor. “And you can take my Power before you do it if you need that one, but you have to do it before you discard.”

  “Too late,” said Vasily, slipping the Power of Knives into his hand.

  “Oh, and I need this one,” said Dmitri, snatching the top of the practice hand that had started the discard pile and tucking it into his own.

  “Wait, what are you all doing?”

  “Thrashing your ass pink,” said Belphagor as he swept up the card beneath it and laid out a Full Choir and a Sphere of Archangels.

  “And there he goes,” said Dmitri tossing in his cards. “Meet the Prince.”

  Vasily had nothing either, and he pushed his cards to the center of the table. Dmitri poured him a shot of vodka and one for himself, and Belphagor picked up the one he hadn’t touched yet and winked at Vasily with a “Budem zdorovy!” before they tossed their drinks back. Vasily snorted a bit at the sentiment. Be healthy, indeed.

  Dmitri took Lev’s cards out of his hand and passed them to Belphagor, who was counting the small pile of coins he’d won. They’d decided to play for kopeks, the minuscule division of rubles—a far cry from the high-stakes games at which Vasily was used to watching Belphagor clean up.

  “I don’t think I like you demons very much.” Lev pouted, pushing his next bet into the pot.

  “Don’t worry.” Belphagor tossed in his bet and shuffled. “The loser gets a consolation prize.”

  Lev glanced up. “Oh?”

  “Vasily will do his other tongue trick,” said Belphagor with a wink.

  “Ha!” Vasily poured himself another vodka. “And if I’m the loser?”

  “Vasily will do his other tongue trick,” Belphagor repeated with exaggerated emphasis, as if Vasily were slow. He smiled, dealing the cards. “For all of us.”

  “I see,” said Vasily, beginning to feel a pleasant buzz from the vodka that was almost as nice as smoking firedust. “So if one of you plays the poorest,” he growled, his voice even rougher than usual with the burn of alcohol, “I suck your cock. And if I play the poorest, I suck all the cocks.”

  “He has a wonderfully subtle way with words, doesn’t he?” said Belphagor, smiling at Dmitri across the table.

  “I didn’t realize that was the other tongue trick,” said Lev. “Cow, dog, monkey, mountain lion, moose.”

  “What on earth was that?” Dmitri asked with a laugh.

  Lev grinned. “That’s my next five calls on the die.”

  “None of those animals is on the die.” Belphagor tossed it to him with a smirk.

  “I was rather hoping not,” said Lev. He tossed it into the pan and called his own cast as it landed. His grin broadened. “I just suck at this game, don’t I?”

  Dmitri laughed and leaned over to kiss him, making it slow and sensuous for the benefit of his audience.

  And just like that, the game had escalated. Belphagor reached under the table and spread open Vasily’s robe, stroking the erection he’d known would be there, and called, “Dragon” as Dmitri cast. The casual way he and Dmitri continued to play, with his hand slowly milking Vasily’s cock, made it impossible for Vasily to concentrate. Lev was watching him, not even trying to play, and Belphagor pushed Vasily’s chair back a bit from the table with his boot, exposing him.

  “Bozhe moi.” Lev let out a low whistle.

  Vasily’s cock bounced slightly at the pr
aise, and he was glad Belphagor hadn’t started by touching the other demon to make him jealous. He didn’t mind so much being the center of attention.

  Lev scooted his chair back and opened his pants, letting his cock spring out amid a nest of dark hair. It was a perfectly fine, serviceable cock, but it was in no way competition for Vasily’s. Dmitri reached over, giving this one its due attention, yet both he and Belphagor continued to play, moving their hands from the stiff cocks just long enough to cast, and not even missing a call.

  Belphagor won another round and collected his winnings, leaving Vasily to play with himself a moment while he gathered the cards and shuffled. “You should take that robe off,” he said without looking up. “It doesn’t really suit you.”

  The room was a bit cold, but Vasily’s body heat made it easy for him to ignore. He peeled off the robe and stood briefly to move it from under him, but Belphagor reached over to take his cock in hand where he stood so he couldn’t sit down again. Vasily looked across the table at Lev and saw a shiny pearl of pre-come emerge at the tip of the Grigori’s cock as he watched Vasily.

  Belphagor called Dmitri’s cast and took the card he put down. “Why don’t you go taste that?” he suggested.

  Vasily glanced at Lev to make sure he was in agreement. Which was absurd. Lev was moaning softly at Dmitri’s touch. He glanced at Dmitri as well, who merely continued playing, but he tilted Lev’s cock in Vasily’s direction like an offering and Belphagor had removed his hand so Vasily could step away from him.

  Still uncertain how he felt about Lev but suddenly incredibly turned on at the thought of sucking another demon’s cock in front of Belphagor, Vasily went around the table and knelt beside Lev’s chair, licking up the pearly bead while Dmitri held the cock for him, his fist clenched beneath the head. Lev sucked in his breath as he watched.

  “Swallow him,” said Belphagor.

  Vasily lowered his head into the demon’s lap, sliding his warm tongue down the side as he took Lev in his mouth until he couldn’t go any farther with Dmitri’s hand in the way. Lev reached back to brace himself with his hands wrapped around the rear legs of his chair where they met the seat, and let out a breathy gasp. Dmitri surrendered the cock to him, and Vasily continued until his lips were against Lev’s groin and let his tongue slowly fill with heat.