Murali stepped closer to Miles, and Miles realized he could see through him. He wasn’t truly there, just a projection of him was. “You must take the silver from this room—your sacred space—inside of you. It will protect you from the beast that has claimed your Harry’s mind.”
“I have to take a phallus into my ass to protect myself?” Miles snapped.
Murali raised a ghostly silver eyebrow. “Would you rather take the beast?”
Miles flashed back to his near rape. Fear mingled with regret and frustration. “Is he truly lost?”
“Only you may decide that.”
“How?”
“Ewart—Harry, as you say—has named you as his lover. We will find out now if he is right.”
“What do you mean, he’s named me as my lover?” Ewart. That’s his real name. I kind of like Harry better. Miles shook himself back to attention. “Wait—are you telling me you think I can break this curse?”
Murali shrugged. “It’s possible. Just because Ewart has been wrong so many times before doesn’t mean that he is wrong this time too.”
“Before?” Hot jealousy rushed through Miles. “You mean I’m not his first ‘beloved’?”
Murali looked amused, but Miles noticed the softness that came over his face, as opposed to Terris’s amusement. “The beast is born of Ewart’s lonely heart. He loves everything living that crosses his path. All but poor Almos, which is why he won’t release him. Almos is very vain.”
So I’m not special. The thought was more disappointing than it should have been. “How does Terris fit into this?”
“I told you. Terris was imprisoned by Almos for transforming me.”
Suddenly Miles understood. “That’s why he keeps trying to seduce me. If Harry—Ewart—gets to me first, Terris loses his way out. Either Harry has a lover or Terris has his slingshot.”
“Or Almos has another feast and watches both Ewart and Terris despair. In every instance to date, this is what has happened. I do what I can, but Terris’s enchantment is quite good. Only one act may break it.”
“And that act is?” Miles prompted.
Murali wagged his finger at him. “I’d like to break my enchantment, too, if you please. If I tell you, you will be unable to try and help me.”
“Then how am I going to break it?”
“By being clever and by following your heart. You’ve done better than any other so far. Who knows? You might make it, this time.”
“You sound rather blasé about the whole thing.”
“Oh, I’m eager to have it over with, yes,” Murali assured him. “But I have enough fey in me to keep from too much despair.”
“And how do you explain Terris, then?”
“Almos can be very cruel, and he has been especially so to Terris for some time. But this is enough of your questions. You must go to Ewart, and you must take the beast from him.”
“And how do you propose I do that? Or is this also part of my little quest?”
“You fill him with silver, of course.” Murali gave him a curious look. “Didn’t you see what happened to his hands when he tore at your silver clothing?”
“But he bled! And anyway, how am I supposed to get the silver in him?”
“He will bleed, yes. But he will transform, and that is what matters. As for how you get it into him—that’s quite simple. You will take the silver into your body here, now. And then you will deposit it inside of him.”
“But how—” Miles stopped. His jaw fell open.
“Into either his mouth or his anus, as you prefer.”
“And how do you propose I get him to let me ‘deposit’ it? Promise to let him rape me after?”
“Oh, that would never work. You may need to let him put his seed in you, first. He’ll be calmer after that.”
Miles twitched. “But he’s so huge!”
“Miles, there honestly isn’t time for your foolishness. Will you do this, or shall I send you home?” When Miles sputtered in panic, Murali sighed and reached into his pocket. “Here. Will this ease your fears at all?”
Miles looked down at the small vial of what appeared to be oil in Murali’s hand. “Is this some sort of super-faerie lube?”
This seemed to amuse him. “You might say that. Here.” He made a circular motion with his finger. “Turn around, and I’ll show you.”
At this point there seemed no reason to object. Miles turned around, bent over, undid the ties to his trousers, and pulled them down.
Murali patted his naked rump. “There, you see? Everything is so much better when you’re agreeable.”
“Sure.” Miles started when he heard the squirt of the oil into Murali’s hand, then again when he felt the strange pressure of a fingertip against his hole. He pushed against it and gasped in pleasure as it slipped inside. It was warm and soft, and it made his insides burn in a very nice way.
“Oh,” he gasped, and opened more for Murali.
“You’re lovely,” Murali pushed deeper. “So warm.”
Miles groaned. Murali’s finger felt barely there, but the oil was decidedly present. It gave him the strangest sensation of swelling, but it felt as if he were opening too. He felt more opened than he’d ever been before, in fact. When Murali added one finger, then another, and then another, Miles didn’t even wince. He just moaned, pushed back against him, begging for more.
He felt a silky tongue slide up his naked cheek. “So delightful, Miles. Would you like me to show you how well you’ll be able to accommodate Ewart? Shall I show you how pleasurable this oil will make it for you?”
All Miles could offer in answer was a grunt. Murali laughed, a wicked faerie laugh. Then he paused, withdrew, tucked his thumb inside his fist—and pushed inside.
Now it was Miles who sang. His face was red, and he was panting, and his head exploded as he felt Murali’s slender arm sliding deep inside him, brushing his fist—his whole fist—against his prostate. He had never done this. Never. He had feared this above all kinky acts, and now here he was, with a half-faerie, half-human’s enchanted fist buried deep within him, greased by magic lube. It aroused him like little else ever had, and soon his musical cries turned to grunts, and he huffed, waiting for Murali to take him all the way to the edge and over into ultimate pleasure.
But just when he was getting close, Murali withdrew. Miles cried out, then groaned again as the silver phallus was slipped snugly inside him. It seemed bigger than it had been before.
Murali kissed Miles’s lower back as he cinched the strap in place. “You should know that even with this you will have some pain. Ewart is a beast all the way, and he will not be easy inside you. You may tear, despite all we have done.”
The thought made Miles nauseous. “I don’t want to tear.”
“It won’t be like you’re thinking. No worse than some of your drunken bouts. Certainly no worse than a woman in childbirth.” When Miles made a strangled sound, Murali patted his rump.
“I’m going to send you to him as soon as I put the silver inside you.”
“How—?” Miles asked, voice still passion-rough, and then the silver shimmered in the air before him, he gasped, and in a puff, it rushed into his mouth.
“Silver vapor,” Murali said, tugging his pants back into place.
Miles gagged and coughed, but the vapor was already seeping into his bloodstream. “Poisonous,” he rasped.
“Yes, unfortunately, quite so to you. But I think I managed to give you just enough to only make you slightly bumbling. When you come inside him, try not to spill, please.”
Miles tried to stand, but with the huge phallus, he could only make it halfway up. He grunted against the sensual pressure of the dildo. “But how—”
“You can get a little of it inside him with your saliva,” Murali advised, “but you’ll need to keep your cock deep inside his throat or anus when you make the true deposit. But I’d give the saliva a try; it might calm him so that he won’t be so vicious when he takes you. The semen will do most o
f the work. It needs to get deep within his system, and an orgasm will help, too—the energy. He needs a great deal of silver, so don’t waste it. I shudder to think what he’d be like if you went halfway.”
“It has to be my semen?” Miles repeated, incredulous.
Murali shrugged. “Or your blood.”
Miles whimpered.
Murali stroked his backside in a conciliatory gesture. “Would you like to call it off?”
It felt like a challenge. Miles was sure it was. Could he actually go home, he wondered? Would he be able to leave this that easily? And the answer came quickly: no. He shook his head.
Murali gave him one last caress. “Ready?”
Miles nodded again, then exhaled. His head spun from the silver. He thought of all the health risks inherent with silver vapor, and he wondered if it was going to be a race to see what killed him, Harry’s lovemaking or Murali’s cure.
“Good luck.” Murali kissed him, and then he was gone.
The room rippled and changed, and the next thing Miles knew, he was in the dungeon room, which stank more than ever of dead animal. He could see nothing, but he could hear the beast in the darkness. He gasped in fear and in pain from the hard object pushing into his ass as he tried to stand, and then great hands took him and crushed him with a roar against a hairy breast.
Chapter Ten
Lover, please! Do not leave me to this!
I do not want life. I only want bliss.
I do not want eyes. I wish not to see
what my actions have wrought, or what I ought to be.
HARRY MADE NO attempt at conversation. Murmuring something that might have been Old English, he pressed Miles onto the floor and humped him.
Miles grabbed his face, then with a gag at the smell of him, fumbled for his mouth. Harry lived like a beast, and the evidence was in the blood matted in his beard and in his teeth; it was the most disgusting kiss Miles had ever had, and given some of his late-night encounters in Atlanta, that was a statement. But he shut down his revulsion and focused on thrusting as much of his tongue inside of Harry’s mouth as he could, as deep as he could, as long as he could.
The gesture seemed to please Harry, and it did calm him somewhat, though it also made him grip Miles’s arms harder. When Harry began to cry out from the pain of touching the silver cloth, Miles pulled back long enough to tug it over his head, then resumed the kiss again.
It was sweeter this time, or his mind had worked it out that he could believe it was so. However it happened, this time he was not feigning his enthusiasm as he laced his tongue around Harry’s. It helped that Harry’s thumbs were rubbing roughly against Miles’s nipples and that his great cock was pushing against Miles’s belly, but when his balls pressed too hard against Miles’s trousers, Harry withdrew in pain again.
“It’s okay,” Miles said, breathless. With only a little hesitation, he tossed off his pants. “They’re gone.” He opened his arms nervously. “Come back, Harry.”
“Gástlufu.” Harry crawled hesitantly forward. Beloved.
“Yes, gástlufu.” Miles took Harry’s mouth once more.
He groaned as he felt Harry’s great cock against his own, and he arched and moaned as Harry’s fur-covered chest rubbed against his hairless, slender one. He’d never been with a hairy man before, ever. He always had gone for slight men, like himself. Slight, caustic men. He wouldn’t have had two seconds for a brutish bear. Now he was panting beneath the bear of bears, unbuckling a monster of a dildo hurriedly as he willingly drew back his legs, pulled the phallus out, and made himself ready for Harry to enter him.
Even with the oil and Murali’s preparation, as the faerie had warned, it still hurt when Harry thrust inside, and Miles cried out in pain, tears running out of his eyes as the beast began to rut inside him. But the fey oil quickly did its work, and soon he was purring and pushing back against Harry’s cock, not to expel it but to take it deeper.
“Harry,” Miles rasped, clutching at his shoulders. “Oh Harry!”
Harry fucked Miles like he had never been fucked before, pushing Miles’s legs back so far they burned from the stretch, and Harry rutted like—well, like a beast inside of Miles. Harry grunted, he roared, and he pushed that monstrous organ deeper inside Miles than anything had ever been, deeper and harder than Murali’s fist had gone, deeper than the phallus, deeper than even Miles’s most wicked imagination. He felt so full, so stretched, and when Harry rubbed his pelvis in a circle and stimulated his prostate, he felt so horny he thought he would blow up if he didn’t come. But he couldn’t, not without wasting the silver. Gritting his teeth, Miles forced himself to hold back and simply lay there as the beast slaked his long-pent lust inside of him.
At last, with a cry that shook the dungeon, Harry came. Great warmth flooded Miles, moving deep into his bowels, oozing out of him onto the floor. They both gasped and clutched at one another, and then, too spent to do anything else, they collapsed into each other, Harry’s great horned head resting on Miles’s shoulder.
Miles turned his face and kissed one of Harry’s horns. “It’s all right. It’s going to be all right. I promise.”
Harry clutched convulsively at Miles’s shoulders, making no move to rise. The beast, for the moment, had been slaked. Miles could even believe, as he lay there breathless beneath the beast, that some of the man had returned. He clutched at Harry’s horns. He hoped so. He didn’t think he could hold off from coming much longer.
Miles took no chances, though. Gently nudging Harry aside, he started to slide from beneath him.
Harry grunted and reached for him, keeping himself buried inside.
“Please,” Miles murmured. He thrust his pelvis at Harry, trying to indicate he wanted to move away. But Harry only growled and held him fast. Miles hissed at the friction against his erection and tried again.
Then he gasped and held very still. Harry huffed against his neck, wriggling his hips until he was buried deep again. Miles shuddered, then fell back against the floor.
“Oh God! What is that?” he gasped, voice still shaking. “Fuck—Harry, what did you do to me?”
Harry huffed against his neck, no longer moving. Miles tried a few more times to free himself, but he couldn’t. Then comprehension dawned.
A knot. Harry was a beast in every way. Harry’s penis had a knot.
Miles cried out. “Oh my God, Harry!”
Harry nuzzled Miles’s neck and gripped his shoulders. “Miles.”
Miles panicked. “Harry, you have to let me go because I—” Then he got a good look at Harry’s mouth, and eyes, and nose, and ears. Blood was pouring from them in increasingly thick streams.
Oh shit, Miles thought, just before Harry began to convulse.
Everything was such a mess. Harry was moving again, his cock buried deep, and even though Miles wanted to focus on helping Harry, the friction pushed him over the edge. With no warning, he came all over his own stomach and into the thick tufts of Harry’s chest.
“No!” Miles cried, once he was spent. He reached between them, gathered what semen he could find, and smeared it as best he could past Harry’s lips. “Harry—swallow it, Harry!”
But mostly Harry was drooling it back out. Miles tried kissing it back in, but it was no use. He scooped up more, but at this point it could be hardly worth anything.
I shudder to think of what he’d be like if you went halfway. That’s what Murali had said. Miles was fairly sure that’s what he was witnessing now.
Or you could use your blood.
Miles drew his hand up to his mouth and bit hard into his thumb. He yelped in pain, but when he drew back, the skin wasn’t broken. He started to try again, then looked into Harry’s mouth, at his jagged teeth, then reached up and slashed hard.
He cried out, then stuck his thumb deep into Harry’s throat and squeezed the rent flesh against Harry’s tongue.
He wasn’t sure how much thumbs could bleed, or how equivalent blood was to semen, so he kept it there, dri
pping, all the time whispering, pleading, begging Harry to suckle it, to take enough to heal. But Harry only rasped, bleeding still, and it wasn’t long before Miles’s pleas became sobs.
“Please work,” he whispered, squeezing his thumb harder. “Please, please work!”
But Harry bled, and bled, and so did Miles, and all the while the silver hung inside him like lead. He began to grow dizzy, and then so sleepy.
He blinked, long and languid.
When he opened his eyes, he was in the castle again, lying on Terris’s silver-sheeted bed. Terris lay naked beside him and looking down curiously at Miles.
Miles blinked, remembered, then cried out in despair. “No—no!”
Terris pouted. “That’s not usually how you greet me, Miles.”
Miles sat up, shoving the silken sheets away. “Harry—where is Harry?”
“Rotting in his dungeon, I assume.” Terris lay back on the bed and threaded his hands behind his head. “Don’t worry. The old goat can’t die. The Lord won’t allow it. Whatever happened to him, he’ll recover.”
“But I wanted him to heal.” Miles stumbled out of the bed and headed for the door. He fell twice along the way. “I have to find him. I have to finish.” He fell a third time, and this time he couldn’t get up until Terris came and helped him. “Why am I so dizzy?”
“You lost a great deal of blood. I’ve only just staunched the bleeding now. And you have enough silver in you to kill most mortals. Honestly, darling, suicide was not necessary. You could have just gone home. You’d have forgotten me eventually. All humans do.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I was trying—” He broke away from Terris and fell immediately, then cried out in frustration. “Damn it!”
Terris laughed. “Miles, you silly creature. What is this about, honestly? Don’t tell me all this is some half-baked plan to save that beast!”
Miles and the Magic Flute Page 15