The Pleasure Rites Series

by Ines Johnson

  Though Emet no longer wore the robes, he still held fast to many of the promises he'd made to the Goddess. Those of obedience, interconnectedness, truth and no-harm. Over the last three years, Emet advocated that these basic human rights should be extended to the everyday man. Now, he had a chance to advocate for all men.

  "I will not let you down," he said to the Male Voice whose eyes came to rest on Emet's face.

  Finally, the Voice nodded.

  Emet let out his breath. It wasn't a gamble the Voice took by putting him in charge of this bill. Emet had proven himself time and again, and he was prepared for this fight, welcomed it even. A chance to set the world balanced on its gender axis.

  He left the office and made it home ten minutes after his normal time. The lights were off in the dress shop. The door was unlocked. Emet cursed Adom's forgetfulness. One day, street thieves would come in and relieve them of their worldly possessions. But then he glanced around the shop. What thief would want avant-garde dresses that were more artistic than functional?

  The shop didn't do much business. In fact the shop didn't do any business these days. There was a dress set out with scissors, needle, and thread at its base. It looked as though Adom had made a sale. Emet shuffled back a few steps to bring the dress into full view. When he did, he realized his mistake. This must be a new creation. No woman would buy a dress made of ropes.

  Emet locked the shop door and went to the back into the living quarters. They'd rented the storefront and home for two years now. The rent payments came solely from Emet's legal work for settling disputes between second class males. He knew it sometimes chaffed Adom that he couldn’t pull his own financial weight, but Emet didn't need him to, didn't expect him. He'd never minded the responsibility of taking care of the man he loved. Aside from their lovemaking, it was the only way he knew to show Adom how much he cared for him.

  It hadn't been love at first sight with the two of them. Adom and Emet had been fast friends along with Jian and Jaspir during their pleasure training.

  Jian was devout in the work of pleasure.

  Jaspir, too, had excelled at the art of pleasure, but his heart had never truly be in the work.

  Emet, though a great student, of the physical arts, lacked the mental will power to do the work. His mind had never been in the game. It was hard for him to keep his mouth shut both in and out of women's bedrooms when there was so much injustice in the world caused by their hands.

  Adom's skills...well, they were in a class populated only by himself. It was a class most women did not appreciate. It was a class that nearly got Emet's then friend into the custody of the Peace Officers. It was Emet's gift of reasoning and advocacy that got Adom out of harm's way that day. By that time, dissatisfaction with his work in the temple had taken root in Emet's heart, and so had Adom.

  By that time, Emet yearned to free himself from the demands of the Goddess and her daughters. He wanted to become an advocate for man-kind. But he knew leaving Adom behind, away from his watchful eye and logical voice, would be like giving a man enough rope to hang himself.

  Luckily, it didn't take much convincing for Adom to take his hand and walk out the temple doors. With the promise of a life at an easel, Adom joined him and they both turned from the call of the Goddess. They pledged their hearts to one another and never parted after that day.

  Emet went down the steps into Adom's studio. He heard the male before he saw him, smelled his creativity in the air.

  Adom's nose was nearly pressed up against a canvas. An array of brushes were in his hands, color on his forearms and cheeks. He worked with a small brush, filling in the detail of a painting. Most of Adom's art was abstract and Emet couldn't make heads or tails of it. This piece was clearly a woman. Or at least the outline of a woman. The details of her body blended in with the naturalistic background. Swirls of green were the firmament beneath her supple ass. Yellow sun rays caressed her full breasts. Puffs of blue greeted her outstretched arms.

  Adom worked now on her nipples. They were cocoa brown.

  "You're going to cover those up, aren't you?"

  Adom jerked at the sound of Emet's voice. He stood, placing himself between Emet and the painting. His shoulders covered the woman's bare breasts. "This one isn't for show. I was just..."

  Emet let Adom trail off. For years Adom had shown his work in underground galleries that clamored for such erotic works as these. Those sensual art houses were illegal, and the risk too high. Especially now with Emet advocating for the Male Voice. They both agreed Adom would stop showing there, and they'd opened the dress shop, a way for Adom to still pursue his art but in a practical vocation.

  Emet knew painting was Adom's passion. He'd insured that his lover's passion could be practiced safely, within these four walls, beneath a respectable, though not financially solvable, business.

  "She's lovely." Emet chucked his chin to Adom's canvas.

  Adom turned back to his canvas, his eyes reverent as he regarded the painting.

  Emet didn't feel any jealousy at the reverence in his lover's eyes. For all the time he'd known Adom, even as a youth, Adom had been obsessed with the female form. He painted, sculpted and designed for women to exclusion. All the models and muses lived in his imagination.

  These days Adom kept his distance from women. After the last woman he'd touched had cried out in panic. After he'd narrowly escaped the clutches of the law, Adom never touched another woman again. It was too dangerous for him and his...proclivities. So, no, Emet felt no jealousy toward these imaginary women. They were safe for Adom to play with.

  "She is amazing, isn't she Em. They want her: the Jayne Austere gallery. They want three paintings, a series."

  Emet pulled Adom up and into his arms. "That is wonderful news."

  Adom had been trying to sell his paintings to a legitimate, above ground gallery for years. Male artists were not often accepted. Women didn't buy art created by men. This was a huge deal for Adom. But...

  "Can you do three paintings? Without..." Emet chucked his head towards the woman's bare breasts on the canvas. If this painting were shown outside of their home, Adom would be arrested for obscene art.

  Adom stiffened. "Don't worry. I can make her presentable."

  There was nothing Emet could say to lessen the tension in Adom's shoulders. Art was the one subject Emet couldn't argue because the subject was just that; subjective. Instead of launching into what he knew would be an argument, Emet decided to change the subject.

  "Looks like we both have cause to celebrate. The Male Voice is letting me advocate against the Insemination Bill.”

  Adom took Emet's face in his hands. The familiar smell of paint on Adom's finger made Emet momentarily light-headed. Instead of inhaling, Emet shared Adom's breath with a slow kiss. Anytime Emet tried to deepen the kiss, Adom would pull away. Emet wanted more but Adom wouldn't give it. Apparently, his lover was in a mood tonight.

  Emet pulled away. He took another deep breath, inhaling the acrid smell of paints on his lover's fingertips and licking his lips in anticipation of what those fingers were about to do to him.

  Impatient for the adventure to begin, Emet reached for Adom's face with his hand seeking to take control of the situation.

  Adom caught his hands in a vice-like grip, exactly as Emet had planned.

  Adom backed Emet deeper into the studio. Emet went willingly, eagerly. They ended back in the center of the room until they stood beneath a wooden suspension rig. The rig was metal. Intricate patterns were soldered into both legs of the rig. The artwork was wielded by Adom's own hand. It wasn't a piece of equipment they could order from the market.

  From the top bar dangled an array of tools; links, locks, swivels, rings and slings. Emet waited with bated breath to see which Adom would choose tonight.

  Adom crossed Emet's hands at his chest. Then he reached to the side table for his rope. As Adom wrapped Emet's arms, Emet watched his lover at work. This form of artwork Emet understood. Adom tied an intr
icate series of knots, fingers going over and under and then pulling the ends tight. The rope dug into Emet's forearms and Emet's dick pulsed a happy tune.

  Adom took his time. He focused on the formation of each knot, making certain each loop lined up. When he was done, Emet's arms were bound just below his breastbone. An intricate series of knots faced outward.

  Adom stepped back and admired his handiwork. Slowly, he began to disrobe, taking his time, a smirk on his handsome face. More than his handiwork, Adom loved the anticipation of the event. Like always, he knew Emet was straining against his pants.

  Emet could do nothing about Adom's slow play, would do nothing if given a choice. He was bound and completely at Adom's mercy. Just the way Adom liked his lover.

  Now naked, Adom allowed Emet a quick glance before disappearing behind him. Emet kept still while Adom's dick poked him as he worked. He knew if he leaned into Adom, Adom would delay his pleasure longer. That was the last thing Emet wanted. He allowed Adom his game, showing the male he knew what he could give him. That he wanted to go exactly where Adom was about to take him.

  Emet shuddered when he heard metal meet metal as Adom reached for a sling on the rig and attached the ropes that bound him to it. This bent Emet slightly forward. Only the balls of his feet remained on the ground. The ropes supported the rest of his weight. Emet closed his eyes, remembering the first time Adom tied him up.

  Adom had found an old text on an ancient art form called Shibari in the temple library. He'd thought it beautiful and wanted to learn. Emet agreed to allow Adom to practice on him. Even that first time, giving himself over to Adom's unpracticed hands, lifted a world of weight off of Emet, who even as a young man felt the weight of injustice rest on his shoulders. He volunteered for Adom's lessons again, and then again.

  The feel of throbbing flesh at his ass brought Emet back to the present. Adom slicked Emet's asshole with warm oil and then entered slowly. Emet rose even higher on his toes. He ached to push back against his lover to speed up his progress. But he couldn't. The ropes left him completely in Adom's hand. Even if he could have, he wouldn't have. Apart from the relief of Adom filling him, Emet craved the release of all the pressures he carried in the world. The ropes relieved him of every burden.

  The words spoken by the Male Voice doubting Emet's abilities, left him.

  The injustices Emet encountered with his cases of wrongdoings against mankind alleviated.

  The micro aggressions of women each man faced daily flitted away.

  By the Goddess’ mercy, Adom picked up his pace. He began a brutal pounding. Emet's hard dick slapped against his lower belly, and then his upper thighs. He desperately needed something, any kind of friction to relieve his aching cock, but he knew Adom wouldn't touch him until he was ready.

  Adom didn't need to touch Emet to make him climax. Adom was a hound, and hounds first learned the art of male pleasure. Adom knew exactly what buttons to push and where to push Emet over the cliff. He pounded the bundle of nerves deep in Emet's ass until Emet howled his release. His ejaculate sprayed across the floor. His chest heaved.

  Adom withdrew, but he didn't slow his assault. Adom never stopped at a single orgasm.

  His brain still fogged with orgasmic bliss, Emet felt his lover sink to his knees behind him. He felt Adom's tongue at his ass, rimming his still contracting hole. Adom laved his lover until Emet squirmed for mercy.

  Finally Adom gave it. Emet felt Adom's hand on his dick. But the feather light touch drove Emet to whimper in protest. He heard Adom chuckle behind him. The man reduced his feather light touch to a teasing graze at the tip of Emet's cock head.

  Emet growled in protest. He struggled against the ropes in an effort to get more of the friction he needed. When Emet's limited movements became frantic, Adom finally firmed his tongue and his touch. In seconds, Emet's seed sprang forth again. This time further away.

  But once, twice, was never enough for Adom. He rose and impaled himself once more inside Emet. Emet reared back. He felt Adom's hand running along the contours of his back, memorizing the lines of his form. Cataloguing the hills and valleys of the musculature all so he could translate it with lead, clay and paint later.

  Emet allowed the perusal. All tension gone from his body. It was total surrender. Exactly what Adom craved. Precisely what Emet needed. Adom went slow and deep into Emet until Emet felt another orgasm building from within. This time, when his muscles contracted, Adom went over the edge with him.

  It was long moments later when Adom released Emet so his heels planted back on the ground. When Emet opened his eyes, Adom untied the knots and massaged Emet's forearms. He'd likely passed out, a common occurrence with Adom's lovemaking and the bliss of the rigid ropes.

  Adom brought a cushioned chair over for Emet to rest in. He planted a light kiss on Emet's lips before he turned to put his ropes away.

  "Hungry?" Emet asked, his gaze on the material in Adom's hands.

  Adom nodded as he wound the ropes with careful loops.

  "Me too. I'll warm something up for us both. I'm going to have a lot of late nights with the Male Voice. I'll be going up against Lady Alyss. It shouldn't be too hard. She's more concerned with her shoes matching her dress than-"

  "What was that name?"

  "Lady Alyss. I told you this. She's Lady Merlyn's sister. You know I like Merlyn, even more now that she's renounced her research. But her family hasn't. They'll pursue this with their last breath. Do you want soup?"

  Emet rose on jelly legs and waited for them to solidify before turning to face Adom for his answer.

  Adom stood frozen with rope coiled around his palms. "I'm not hungry."

  "You just said you were."

  "I'm going to take a shower and then head to bed." Adom balled the rope and then tossed it into the drawer. He turned and kissed Emet absently before heading upstairs.

  Emet pulled on his pants. He put the caps on Adom's paint jars. Adom could get distracted when he was working. Emet chalked up the male's capricious appetite to that.

  Emet took another look at the painting. Emet hadn't looked at a woman sexually in years. He spent too much time protecting himself and others against their sex to want to engage in the act with one of them. But the girl of Adom's imagination was lovely.

  Without a second glance, Emet went over to the studio's entrance and turned out the light.

  Chapter Five

  "These are simply exquisite."

  "I told you, my lady. He is-" Geoffri hushed at the lady's raised hand. Not only did he shush himself, he put his own hand over his mouth and closed his eyes in shame at his actions.

  Lady Jayne, the gallery’s patroness and namesake, paid him no mind. Her eyes were on Adom. "And you did these yourself?"

  Adom forced a smile to his lips. He nodded, not trusting his words. Lady Jayne's eyes lingered on his mouth longer than was socially acceptable.

  "It's just they are simply exquisite,” she repeated. “The color choice, the curves of your lines, the brush strokes." She turned back to Adom, perusing more than his mouth this time.

  Behind her Geoffri bounced on his feet like a child. He actually gave Adom the thumb's up sign as though he should be glad of the woman's backhanded praise and lascivious glances. Adom didn't need either of their opinions to validate his work. He knew they were exquisite, as exquisite as his muse.

  No, not his muse. After these paintings sold, he'd need to put her out of his mind. Forever.

  And it looked like these paintings would sell. Alongside the first painting of the Goddess asleep on a red earth representing the destruction of man, hung a second painting of the goddess awaking and sitting up. In this depiction, her face rose to the dawning sun, her hands glided over green grass. And then came the third and final painting in the series. His goddess stood on the firmament, arms outstretched as the world came to life around her.

  "We'll need more," said Lady Jayne.

  "More?" Adom frowned. He only planned for one, was thrilled to
sell three. But he could do no more. He would not be seeing his muse again. Not ever. When he returned home he was prepared to courier over her dress and never see her again. Forever.

  "Of course we'll need more. We can't fill the gallery with just these three."

  "Fill the gallery?" Adom wasn't sure if he spoke out loud. He was certain he'd misheard the lady.

  A discard had never shown in this gallery before. Having a wall was the chance of a lifetime. She couldn't have said he, a discard and former pleasure monk, would have the entire gallery to display only his work.

  Geoffri nodded his head enthusiastically. "Lady Jayne has given you your own show. All on the theme of the Goddess. Isn't it wonderful."

  "I've pushed back the opening for two weeks," she said generously. "You'll be ready." It wasn't a question. Women of her status didn't ask. They commanded.

  Adom bristled at the order. His fingers clenched to capture her wrists, tie them over her head, and...nothing. It ended there. There was no sexual attraction to this woman.

  With one final glance that spent more time south of his body than migrating birds, Lady Jayne walked away, their business concluded. Geoffri at her heels.

  Adom left the gallery in a daze.

  His own show. It was what he'd dreamed for years. His own work, his vision, displayed for everyone to see.

  He could do this. He could do more. His mind itched to do more paintings of her; Lady Alyss. She'd invaded his thoughts three months ago and then grew to dominate his entire being in just a day. He didn't have to see her in the flesh. She was in his head. He could keep her in his head and stay away from her in reality. When Adom returned home, he saw it would not be as simple as he thought.

  She stood waiting outside the locked door of his storefront. Her arms crossed over her ample chest. Her foot tapped the ground. Her lips pursed in a pout as she glanced at the unmovable doorknob. As though she sensed his study of her, she turned to him, breathless. The sun chose that moment to shine its rays on her brown skin. Her wild curls sparkled and stretched in greeting.