A story I wrote for my lover who has died. RIP Brian.

Brian and Tai Gau

I have no idea what to write here, but I feel I must do something, say something. I learned a short while ago that my long-distance lover and significant other, Brian Wolfe (aka Ayem Willing), was killed in a motorcycle accident. Some of you knew him through the Fetish Fair Fleamarkets where he was the man who kept me upright when I was so ill I could barely function to run the show in Houston and who volunteered tirelessly for NELA and other BDSM organizations. He was an unrelentingly good person, who gave and gave and gave of himself. No, really.
I don’t know any details about the accident. What I can tell you is that the lest time I saw him, at the end of June, was that the motorcycle was his only transportation. He got laid off from his job a while back when the economy tanked, and in the economic difficulties that followed, he told me he could not keep up his car payments. Despite trying to cut a deal with them to repay (once he got another job), the repo men kept showing up, so he finally gave in and told them to “just take the damn car.” That left him only on two wheels.
I don’t know any details about the accident. I don’t know if there was a collision or if it was a solo accident, or not. All I can fixate on is that this was pretty much the last conversation I had with him.
As you can imagine, I’m pretty devastated by the news. I’m also pretty tender, so although I appreciate condolences, I don’t think I can actually handle them right now. So please don’t call me. Please do celebrate the life of a man who had strong passions and who wasn’t afraid to pursue them.
To that end, I have an erotic story to share, that I wrote for Brian a few years ago. (Story under the cut if you are interested in reading it.) Brian won a fundraising eBay auction back in 2007 for an original story written by me. So this has never been posted anywhere before. His request was for a sequel to The Velderet, my BDSM space opera novel, asking about what happened to two of the characters who end up together at the end of the novel.
I share the story with you all now, in his memory.
* * *
Kobi’s Tale
by Cecilia Tan
Written For Ayem Willing
Copyright © 2010 by Cecilia Tan
This story was written for the winner of an eBay auction for an original Cecilia Tan story, run as a fundraiser for Circlet Press. It took longer to complete than expected, but it is done.

* * *
The ship was terrifying.
You would think that leaving behind all the people I knew and entering an alien culture where I would be completely at the mercy of a man who had been described to me as “cruel” would be frightening. But it wasn’t. What frightened me, as the shuttle ship neared the big one, was the larger one itself.
The ship had been imposing enough when it had blotted out most of the sky, as it had hung over the capital city of Marianna, but to be flying to it? Into it? I found myself unable to look away from the sight through the window, even as my hands trembled on the railing.
“Kobi.” The man next to me spoke. I would have described him as my master, except for the fact that although I was an initiate in his order of discipline, I wasn’t, in Kylaran terms, his slave. The difference, as far as I could tell, was a purely semantic one. I felt slave-like and would figure out the rest as I went along. His voice was little more than a whisper. “Kneel.”
Oh. A command. Yes. I concentrated on doing what he said, though it meant letting go the railing. I sank to my knees, trying to do it as gracefully as the slaves I had seen on Kylaran entertainment programs. I failed, but at least now I was below the level of the window, my head bowed to look at my hands on my knees.
His hand touched my hair, stroking it back from my face. “Look up at me.”
“Is that allowed?” I asked.
“If it were not, do you think I would ask it?” Girman chuckled.
“Well, maybe,” I said, though I looked up into his eyes. “I thought slaves weren’t supposed to look up?”
“You’ve been watching too many entertainments,” he said, but his voice was soft rather than severe. “Try to forget all that nonsense and concentrate on what I tell you. If you’re going to train with me under the Disciplines, you’ll find it quite different from the passion plays anyway.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek, and then over my lips. “I want you to meet my eyes so I can see the depths of your soul. You will hide nothing from me.”
“Oh.” His eyes were blue and at that moment it was easy to believe he meant what he said truly and not as a piece of romantic fluff. “I… just tell me what I should do. And shouldn’t do.”
“That is my plan,” he said with one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Most important is that you do as I say rather than worry about whether what you do is correct. I will correct you if needed.”
He pushed his thumb into my mouth then and I reflexively sucked it.
“You are a sensual creature, Kobi of Bellonia,” he said. “A new pleasure in my life and a new puzzle to solve. When I say I will correct you, I do not yet know what measure of punishment and what measure of reward you will respond to best. Or are you one of those for whom pain can be a reward? I am quite sure, actually, that you are. It is one of your most attractive qualities.”
For some reason I was totally unprepared for him to kiss me then. But his mouth took mine, his finger slipping away as his tongue replaced it, thrusting into me and overwhelming me with the suddenness and force of his desire. I was surprised to feel such lust from a man whose discipline required that he not come in the presence of his subordinates, and that his subordinates not come in his presence. Clearly I had much to learn about him and his people’s ways.
I had forgotten the ship entirely. Girman was the entirety of my sky.
* * * *
We would be en route to Chidras for three weeks, he said, where the crew would be given furlough once we arrived, their due after the long time they had spent on the Bellonian mission. Three weeks when he would train me, he said.
He began that first morning. I woke with his hand on my cheek. “Master,” I said, in my own language, before I was fully awake.
That made him smile. “Keep calling me that,” he said. “There is such lovely mist in your eyes whenever you say it.”
Then his hand strayed down to my cock, which was morning hard. He stroked me with light touches, as if learning the pattern of veins with his fingertips. I moaned and tried my best to hold still, though my hips jerked some.
“If you feel the need to come, I will leave you to gratify yourself,” he said after a while. “Then you may join me for a light meal.”
I bit my lip. As he spoke, his fingers never ceased stimulating me. “And if I d-don’t feel the need to come?”
“One of your directives is to be honest with me, Kobi.”
“Just speaking theoretically, I mean.”
“Ha. If you don’t, then you may follow me directly to the meal and I will leave you in the state you are in. You have a choice whether you wear a thin robe like mine, or whether you wear nothing. Which will you choose?” His grip firmed, but slowed, drawing another moan out of me as I considered the choice.
“Nothing,” I finally said.
He nodded, accepting the choice, but he asked, “And why?”
“I want to hide nothing from you,” I said, my hips thrusting my cock suddenly into his fist.
“You mean you want to entice me to touch you by showing me your body,” he said.
I blushed. “Well… that, too.”
“Are you worried you will not receive enough attention as my initiate?”
“No, Master. I… I really don’t know what to expect.”
He nodded again. “Very well, no robe for you, beautiful one. But you still have not told me if you would like to be left alone to finish.”
I shook my head. Much as I wanted to come, what I wanted more was his attention. Perhaps he knew that. “I would rather stay at your side.”
With that he lifted his hand from my cock, and I nearly changed my mind and begged him to let me finish anyway. But he stood then, and offered me a hand to lift me out of the nest of pillows where I had slept. I felt dizzy, as if all the blood stayed pooled in my groin, but I followed him. We ate breakfast together, Bellonian fruit and a Kylaran style bread, sitting at a low table in a sparsely furnished room.
He told me I should ask questions, and that he would always answer them to the best of his knowledge, and that I should not try to measure my success or failure. “Only I can determine whether I am pleased or not. Do not assume you know what I want. Take my instructions for what they are but do not judge yourself.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Also, do not let the judgements of others affect you. You will be seen as an exotic plaything by some of my peers, little more than a curiosity, like a talking bird. Sometimes I will encourage them in that view, if it suits my aims. But do not ever think that I think less of you than I do.”
But what do you think of me? I didn’t dare ask that. Instead I asked a more basic question, one that had been nagging me since our first meeting. “Why is it that you don’t come in front of your subordinates?”
He chuckled and peeled open a fruit with his fingers. “The answer is not that simple, but I will give you the outlines of the discipline’s philosophy. First, as I’ve taught you, orgasm brings about an ending. The Delorr philosophy teaches that it is the process we should learn to love and enjoy, not the ending. The journey, not the destination. Second, consider the difference between your bodily needs and your desires. You need to eat to survive, but you do not necessarily need the flavor of bread or the sweetness of fruit. With the Delorr disciplines, one learns to savor the ‘flavor’ of sex without consuming it.”
“But don’t people need to come sometimes? For their health?” I had been taught in school that was the case, and the average need on Bellonia had been studied in order to determine each citizen’s allotment of sexual services.
“Sometimes, yes. As I told you, I would have left you to seek release this morning if you had wished.” He reached across the corner of the table and stroked my half-hard cock until I was fully erect again. “The idea is to separate that from the process. To purify, in a way, the interactions between master and slave, husband and wife, and so on.”
Oh. “But what about procreation? Wouldn’t the husband kind of need to have his wife there?”
He laughed. “Breeding is a special circumstance. But you and I will not have such concerns, and I probably need not tell you that those who follow the Delorr disciplines are few and far between. You will find very few among my people who will deny themselves anything. All too often, they are ruled by their appetites instead of their rational minds.”
I could not keep silent at that. “But isn’t that what your people were accusing us of? Weren’t you going to enslave the whole planet because we were too ruled by our animal passions?”
“Just so,” Girman said, with a grave nod. “You see why I believe adherence to the Delorr disciplines is noble.”
He stood then and I could see he was erect himself. “Not that I am without my appetites,” he said. “Come, there are a few preparations we must make.”
He led me to another room and indicated I should lie down on a low bed, then sat on a pillow beside me. He held up something round and smooth in his fingers, about the size of an eyeball but milky translucent like glass. “This is to go inside you,” he said.
I didn’t know what to make of that so I just lay still, looking at him, though I felt a deep thrill in my center as I thought of him inserting it. He coated his fingers with some sort of ointment and then teased at my anus. My cock twitched as he slid one finger inside me, and precome began to leak as he pumped it in and out, adding a second finger soon after. I groaned, wanting more. Then he slid the ball into me and I gasped as for a few seconds I felt it, cold, until it warmed to my body.
He mounted me with his cock then, slicking it with the grease and just taking me by climbing between my legs and pushing in. “Must make sure the ball sets in deep,” he said, as he fucked me with long, slow strokes. I didn’t care why he was fucking me, only that he was. After all the cybersex I’d had this year, there was still no substitute for flesh on flesh, sweat, and musk, and feeling his pulse in his cock inside me.
We fucked for a long time, until it became like breathing, just in and out, a part of me, something I needed, something I needed to keep doing. And continuing to do it meant not coming. He held one of my legs at an angle and his belly just brushed my cock on each thrust. I became aware of my cock aching, feeling as if it were swollen to bursting.
He pulled out suddenly, gasping as he held himself above me on all fours, and I could not help but look down to see his cock, glistening and red, twitching, a few droplets of precome being forced out with each twitch.
That was how close to breaking his own discipline he came.
When he spoke, it was with a ragged voice. “Tomorrow there will be a reception. I will begin teaching you the art of knots.”
I whimpered, which troubled me only because I was trying to say ‘yes.’ But now I was both on the edge of orgasm and empty, wanting to be filled, and my voice came out an animal sound.
His mouth met my mouth in a kiss like none I’d felt before. And this time when his tongue breached my lips, I came. My body spasmed and I saw blinding white light and the hot evidence streaked my stomach.
He pulled back to look at me, but there was no disappointment in his eyes. He streaked his finger through my come and tasted it.
“I… I couldn’t help myself,” I said, wondering if I should be ashamed of breaking his rules.
“I know.” He kissed me again, more gently this time. “You are new to this. You must wait three days until your next one, now. I will send someone to help you clean up.” He didn’t seem at all dismayed. In fact, if I had to guess, I would say he was deeply pleased. Before I could say anything more, he was gone.
“But…” But I wanted so very much to take that straining organ of his into my mouth, to taste that eager salt and then the bitter rush of his come. I had never wanted it so much in my life. But I knew he was leaving me now, to either finish himself off or to meditate the erection away.
A different door opened and in came a man with his hair in a top knot, wearing one of those thin robes open at the front. A slave? He didn’t look much older than me. He sighed and spoke in perfect Bellonian. “So, you’re the new initiate? Come on.”
I got to my feet. “Are you an initiate, too?”
“Yes. Hyl’n is my name. And you’re a welcome sight.” Hyl’n gestured at me to follow him.
“I am?”
“Yes.” He ushered me into a washing stall, took off his own robe and got in with me, and then jets of warm, scented water began to hit us from all sides. He had a cloth from somewhere and scrubbed my back. “There’s only you and me. And him. It’s… it’s much easier when there’s another initiate around.”
“It is?”
“Yes. Because it means I can do this.” He slipped his fingers over my tailbone and into my hole and I gasped. It felt good. “Will you let me fuck you?”
I nodded, bracing my hands against one wall of the stall while he lined himself up behind me. I was still slick and loose from Girman and Hyl’n wasted no time in setting up a pounding rhythm, coming just a few minutes later. I watched the whiteness swirl down the drain between my feet as he rested against my back. Then he straightened.
“Thank you,” he said, still a little breathless. “I needed that.”
“You’re welcome. Does doing it by hand get difficult after a while?”
“Oh. Just boring. It never feels as good as fucking someone.” He changed the shower control from wet to dry. “And there’s no prohibition on us coming with each other. Just with him.”
“That doesn’t make much sense to me,” I said, as I ran my hands through my still-damp hair, though the dryers were making quick work of it.
“It doesn’t make much sense to most people, as far as I can tell,” Hyl’n said.
“Then why are you his initiate?” I asked, still trying hard to understand.
Hyl’n shrugged and stepped out of the stall, slipping his robe over his shoulders again. “Because it’s as close to being his slave as I’ll get.”
“You’re not?”
“No. He has none. He could, if he wanted, but…” Hyl’n shrugged. “He’s eccentric to say the least. And although the others will treat us like his slaves such, they know we’re not. As far the Kylar are concerned, you’re not a slave unless you’re claimed.” He opened a panel in the wall and took out a comb, beckoning me to come over to him.
“Claimed? But aren’t we ‘his’?”
“We are his. By ‘claimed’ I mean… well, consummated.” He frowned and I wondered if maybe he didn’t know the words in Bellonian for what he meant.
“Consummated? But he fucked me just this morning.”
He fixed me with an appraising look then. “But he didn’t come inside you.”
“No, of course not,” I said quickly, wondering if Hyl’n saw me as a rival. I decided not to tell him I had come, myself when he seemed relieved at my answer.
He beckoned me to sit so he could comb my hair. He combed it through and put it up in a top knot. “I’m still figuring out all the nuances.”
“You are?” I turned to look at him in surprise.
“I’m from Chidras originally.” He shrugged again. “I’ve been with him for three years. The Kylar have a lot of unspoken rules, though. I’ve seen some things…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
But I figured it did matter, or he wouldn’t have said anything. I turned and kissed him. “Feel free to teach me what you want,” I said. I didn’t want him to see me as a rival or a threat. “If you need me, I’m here.”
I felt his fingers tighten against my skin as he pulled me closer. “Be careful what you say,” he whispered into my ear. “Every word you speak is a promise to the Kylar.”
“I mean it,” I insisted. “So long as he isn’t against it, I’m open to whatever you want, Hyl’n.”
He pushed me to the floor with a growl and rutted against me. “I just fucked you not even an hour ago,” he said, as if he didn’t believe it himself.
“You said it’s been a long time since you had someone,” I pointed out. “Perhaps you’re making up for lost time.”
“Perhaps.” That was the last word spoken for quite a while then, as he set to fucking me more thoroughly than before. He never questioned when I didn’t ask to come, though, and I went before Girman some hours later scrubbed clean once again, with my ass sore and my cock half-filled with blind optimism.
* * * *
The way of the knot, as it turned out, was a way of making ropes into art. That is, a way of making ropes and living bodies into art. I needn’t have worried about what I was going to wear to the reception that night, nor what I would say, since he turned me into a living sculpture. I was led into a large room, dimly lit except for the pool of light where he bade me kneel. He was in a finer robe than before, but no better covered by it, and I could see his pendulous cock stirring at the sight of me.
There were others there already, guests and spectators, murmuring in the background, but all my attention was for him.
And his for me. It began simply enough, with him winding cords around me, knotting them here and there, more decorative than a true form of bondage, I thought. He had ropes of different colors and thicknesses and I wondered if they were woven of the fibers from many different planets or if they were native to his home world. I wondered if we would go there at some point and if we did, how it would feel to walk the streets there with him.
Then he used a shimmering rope to make a kind of cuff for my wrist and I found my hand floating. The ropes connected with the artificial gravity somehow.
He hummed softly to himself as he worked, and I felt lulled into a kind of daydream as the cords were laid over my skin and his hands caressed me inch by inch. He changed my posture, moving me this way and that, bending my limbs and binding them to stay bent sometimes. This time when he brought me to full hardness with the fluting of his fingers it felt familiar. And with each knot added, each touch and kiss, I felt more and more like he was making love to me, not just dressing me up or even tying me up. There were some cords that tethered me below, some above, as he adjusted which parts of me could move and which could not, which parts of me could float and which didn’t.
When he finally pulled the cord that sent me flying into the air, I cried out as if I were coming, but I wasn’t. I felt a release of some kind, though, something flying free. Now I could feel some of the pull, as I swung gradually back and forth, eventually settling into a slow rotation like a piece of ceiling art in the Marianna Museum.
I was not that high up, though. I was in easy reach of the guests. I am not sure if some signal was given or if there was just a proscribed amount of time that was considered polite to let a slave (or whatever I was) hang untouched. I felt the glassy caress of long fingernails along my ribs, moving along the ropes rather than catching on them. Another rope was pulled—I heard it creak—and my position shifted, my head down, my hair hanging.
More hands were touching me now, and although they were teasing at first, it wasn’t long before someone was pulling on my cock earnestly, as if polishing the imaginary bone inside with the foreskin. I could not tell which hands belonged to men, which to women. One male voice complained that my anus was inaccessible to him. Even if I hadn’t learned the language, his tone was unmistakeable. “Look at these two great knots, blocking the way. Girman doesn’t want anyone else fucking this one, I think.”
“Or perhaps,” came the answer, from my master himself, “you merely do not understand the puzzle before you.”
There were murmurs of excitement. I swung suddenly, as someone pulled me toward them, someone male, I knew, when I felt the red hot head of his cock against my thigh. There was tugging, this way and that. And rutting against my leg. But I could feel the hard knots did not budge.
The tugging stopped after a while, and then I felt his hand, so familiar, my own master’s hand stroking the back of my neck. He adjusted the ropes somehow so that I was lifted, still facing the floor, but with my arms half spread like wings and my knees crooked.
He said a word I didn’t know, but I took to mean, “Behold” or “Look!” and I heard the ropes creak once more as he pulled something. My head bucked and I gasped with sudden desire as I felt those two knots separate and pull my asscheeks in opposite directions, opening me wide.
I opened my mouth then, to beg him to fill me, but before I could get the first word out, I felt the head of his cock, cold and slick with lubricant, slide soothingly over my asshole. Not in me yet, but almost.
When he took me, the penetration was slow this time, and I’m not sure for whose benefit the agonizing pace was, mine, his, or the watchful audience. I remembered I could open my eyes and see them, and what I saw on their faces was hunger. Every one of them wanted to be next, though whether that meant next to fuck me or next in the ropes, I didn’t know. Every cock I could see was erect. Some of them were larger than any I’d ever seen, even in entertainments, and some of those were studded with metal and I shivered, wondering what that kind of jewelry could do inside me. Surely they wouldn’t unless it was safe…?
The fuck went from so slow I wanted to scream, to gradually faster, to a pounding that made the one Hyl’n had given me in the shower seem lazy and gentle. My eyes had closed again and I had forgotten the party, forgotten the spectators, until I felt salty flesh pushing at my lips. I opened my eyes expecting to see Hyl’n, but there was a Kylar I didn’t know feeding his cock into my mouth. No jewelry or studs on this one, thankfully, and I took him in as best I could while being jarred from behind by each thrust.
I had to really concentrate to follow what they were saying. “This one is far too good for you to keep him bottled up, Girman,” the man said. “Why do you pluck such wanton flowers from their gardens, only to see them wither?”
“You know not what you speak of, Shijjan,” my master answered, slowing his pace then. “This one will not wither. This one will bloom.”
I groaned. Something about the slower pace he set and the angle of his penetration was pushing me dangerously close. Didn’t he say I shouldn’t come for three days? He hadn’t told me what to say if I had to warn him I was drawing so close. Not that I could say anything with a cock in my mouth.
“Was it worth it, then?” the man went on. “All the ones whose cocks shriveled up after a while? It’s perfectly natural to control your slaves’ releases, but to deny them?”
“They are not my slaves,” Girman said, and I could feel his thumbs widening my hole still further, pushing into me with his cock, now that there was this other man holding me in place. “And they are allowed to come. They just should not see me as the source for such purely animal gratification, as a slave does his master. We seek… higher forms of release. Higher forms of gratification.”
I made a more desperate noise then, around the flesh in my mouth. The man there patted me on the cheek. “I do believe he is trying to say something.”
“He is nearly ready to come,” Girman said with great calm, and then pulled free of me. He then swung me back, my lips coming free of the other man with a pop, and the next thing I knew I was face up, my legs extended to either side of me, the ropes pulling me disappearing out of my view.
Girman rubbed his slick cock against mine but his face bore a bemused look. He pushed his cock into me then, and walked forward, swinging me until I was chest to chest with him, his arms around my back.
His voice was quiet in my ear. “What do you think? Should I leave you here for the others to use? A willing hole?”
I stiffened and he felt it, as desire and confusion fought within me. “I… If you would like to see the others use me, I…”
“Hush, Kobi. I thought you would enjoy being fucked by many.”
“I… Normally I would, but…”
“But I told you not to come for three days? Is that it? What if I gave you permission to come so long as it was while someone was penetrating you, while you are in ropes tonight?”
“I…” It was a tempting thought. Very tempting.
“You might have to beg for what other stimulation you need, of course, if any. I cannot guarantee, of course, that any of our guests will give that to you. They may, in fact, do their utmost to take their own enjoyment from your body while taking care not to let you come.”
I moaned. I had fantasized just such a scenario many times. My cock twitched madly and my hole spasmed around him. But the fantasy had come before the reality of Girman.
I wished my arms were free so I could hold tight to him. They were not, so I had to speak. “If… if it would please you to see me played with so, I would gladly do it,” I said. “But… but I would be imagining that each one is you, master. That each one who comes inside me, is you… you… claiming me.”
I didn’t expect the sudden slap across my cheek, nor the sudden kiss that took away its sting and invaded my mouth once more with fervent desire. I didn’t understand either. When he pulled back, his eyes were hazy but hooded, and then he hastily sent me swinging away from him, empty and suddenly cold.
“He is yours to toy with, my honored guests,” he said. “As I understand it, even among his own people he had a reputation as a slut.”
Something of a cheer went up from all assembled and the first man to catch me where I was swinging pushed the already quite slick head of his cock into my mouth. Seconds before someone else had been sucking him—his own slave, perhaps? But he wanted to finish with me. I could see he had metal studs in two neat row down his shaft so it was just as well I could not get more than the head into my mouth. I wondered what planet he was from. It was mere moments before his come was pumping, thick and bitter, onto my tongue.
There were many more of them after that. Most wanted my ass. I was like an acrobat, tumbling and turning on the ever-winding ropes into whatever position they chose, sometimes two at a time, one at each end, sometimes aiding each other, as when one large man held me still and open for his partner to fuck as if I were up against a wall. There were women, too, with wicked phalluses of varying kinds, some clearly high tech, others more ceremonial-looking.
I began to wonder how many had been invited to this party, and if each one were to have a turn, how many hours would it take? At one point Hyl’n made me drink some water. “Here,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” I whispered back. For the moment they left us alone and it was like we were in an isolation bubble. “Do you want a turn, too?”
“No. Only want to fuck you if I can come,” he said brushing my hair back from my face. “He’s watching, you know. Hasn’t taken his eyes off you for a moment.”
That made me shiver and blush. He had given me permission to come, even. Did he want to see me come, though? If I did, would that end this? Was that what it would take? Did he want to see me beg for release from tormentor after tormentor?
“Thank you,” I said to Hyl’n once more. I knew now what I wanted to do. I just didn’t know if I could actually manage to do it.
I wanted to NOT come. I wanted to pledge myself to ONLY come from his touch, with his permission. His permission, which he would never give, but which I would seek endlessly.
That is true devotion, I thought to myself. And was that not what all spiritual seekers are seeking?
I said none of that to Hyl’n, though. I hung limp in the ropes and waited for the next one to use me.
Cock after cock. Some of them stroked mine as they fucked me, bringing me to the edge, but they all thought I wanted to come. So none of them really wanted to give me what I wanted.
Not until a familiar voice, the man who had argued with Girman earlier, spoke above me. Shijjan. “Initiate,” he said, like it was a foul word. “If you’re the slut he describes, you probably can come ten times a day, am I right? Let’s see how fast I can make you spurt.”
He brought me to the edge right away, as if he knew just what angle to fuck me at, and just what speed and how much pressure to use on my own cock. But I bit it back, clamping down hard on my stomach.
Shijjan laughed. “Oh, the little plaything wants to fight? How lovely. I love you untamed aliens.”
I hissed through my teeth. The whole point was I didn’t want to be an untamed wild thing that would come at any chance I got. Been there, done that.
He couldn’t make me come. Could he? If I really didn’t want to? I was making a very distressed sound and I was afraid to find out.
He got bored before my will gave out, though. He smacked my cock hard with his open palm and then pulled free. “Maybe you need a little pain to push you over the edge,” he said. “Jhu-jhu, you must surely be recovered now.”
He was speaking to another man. I shook my hair out of my eyes. The big man with the studded cock, who was erect and trailing a silver thread of precome from his slit. He was as wide around as my forearm and the studs gleamed as he stepped into the light with me. Were they sharp enough to tear me inside? Merin had told me the Kylar could heal almost anything, even extreme injuries like dismemberment and flaying.
That didn’t mean I wanted to be torn apart though. I tried to find Girman in the crowd, but the faces were all in shadow and I could not tell if he was there. Hyl’n had said he was, though. Surely he wouldn’t have turned away just now?
The big man pushed two fingers into me and swore in a language I didn’t recognize. “You’ve been fucked by how many tonight? Twenty? And you’re nowhere near loose enough to take me. If anything you tightened right back up when Shijjan was trying to make you come.” He dug around inside me, making me squirm and fight as he poked at already tender places. “That or maybe everyone on your planet has asses this tight. If that’s the case, won’t be long before you’re all made into whores anyway.”
Inside my head I was arguing with him, but I knew he was trying to get a rise out of me. He was trying to make it harder for me. It was so obvious. His words still made me angry, but not angry enough to say anything.
Then he was slicking himself up with lube and I could hear the studs clicking against a ring on one of his fingers as he stroked up and down. “Hold him down, Shijjan.”
The ropes let loose and Shijjan caught me under the armpits, maneuvering me until I was bent forward over a low, padded bench, my ass now a firm target for that massive cock. I felt the head smear back and forth over my hole and knew there was no way I was taking it without damage.
“Master, please…” I barely recognized my own voice.
But I recognized his hand on my hair, his touch. “I’m here,” he said.
“Do you… do you want me to be hurt?”
I felt the stutter of surprise in his touch.
“I’ll… I’ll do as you wish. But I don’t want him.”
The man behind me pushed at my hole again, but didn’t come close to penetrating. I clenched as tight as I could. “Girman. You can’t possibly think to stop me from taking my due at this point, can you? Everyone else here has had him. It would be an affront to stop me.”
His touch was very soft on my hair, but I could hear the steel in his voice. “You speak true, Jhulan.” he said.
The man didn’t hear the warning in his tone. Or he ignored it. “Then let me get on with it,” he said, now trying harder to push into me.
Girman’s mouth found my ear. “You will not be torn inside,” he said so only I could hear. “The thing I put inside you today will protect you. As my slave. Let him in. And I will protect you as your master.”
It was a command. And if I were not dreaming, he had just said something I had never thought he would say. I did as I was told, I stopped resisting, and a moment later I cried out as Jhulan entered me with a vicious shove. I might not have been torn, but the pain was sharp, a burning and an ache together and I just wanted him out.
Then a moment later, he WAS out, as Girman leaped over me to tackle the unsuspecting man. I didn’t see what happened, exactly, but I heard the gasps of those around me. I tried to look over my shoulder, but my hair was in my eyes.
And then Girman was back, pressing his chest to my back and kissing the base of my neck, under my hair.
“You can’t do that!” Shijjan was sputtering indignantly. “He’s just an initiate. He’s not a slave!”
“He will be in a few moments,” Girman said. “Kobi of Bellonia, it is my intent to claim you as my own. Do you accept this claim of ownership that only I can rescind?”
“Yes!” I cried, as he slid his cock into me. “Yes, and when you make me come, you’ll know I spoke true.”
“Indeed,” he said. He patted me on the butt and somehow I knew to get up on all fours then.
Perhaps he intended to reach around. I will never know. He didn’t need to. When he came, I came, in a gorgeous white spatter that could have been a map of the stars we were speeding past.
* * * *
I woke once during the night that night, to find myself in the circle of his arms, in a soft bed that smelled of him, and then I drifted back into a blissful sleep.
In the morning I woke to find him gone from the bed, but not far away. The door was open and in the next room, he and Hyl’n were already deep in a discussion.
“Don’t lie to me, Girman. You had already put the monitor in him!”
“Did I not just say I intended to test him fully? I just did not expect him to take to it so quickly.”
“Testing him is one thing, preparing him for claiming is another! You intended to bond with him as master and slave all along.”
“Perhaps I did. It is not your place to question if I have changed my mind or my methods.”
“You speak true, damn you.”
“Hyl’n, you have done your best. You have served the disciplines well…”
“I wanted to be serving you!”
“I know. But you were not the one.”
“And he is.”
“Yes.”
“Then there really isn’t anything else I can say, is there?”
“Not to change my mind, no. But you are welcome to say quite a bit. You think I am unaware of your jealousy? Your hurt? I will do anything you require of me to see you settled in a good situation, you know. I owe you that. But I cannot be for you what you want of me.”
“Fine. Then here’s what I want. When we get to Chidras, you’re going to destabilize the current Kylaran governor, and put Shijjan in his place. And you’ll give your blessing to Shijjan putting me in collar for two years.”
“Only two years?”
“He’ll help me find someone right for me. If, that is, he doesn’t turn out to be the one.”
Girman chuckled. “I’d say you two are compatible after all the times he’s fucked you.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
“Hyl’n. Please. Do you really think I don’t know about each and every time you’ve been with him? I know better than you think. Bend over.”
“What? Don’t be…”
Then there was the sound, not of a struggle exactly, but some kind of shuffling and moving, their bodies on the floor, cloth, Hyl’n’s breath… were they having sex? No. Next came a sad sound of dismay from Hyl’n and I heard Girman get to his feet.
Hyl’n’s voice was shaky. “How… how long did you have that monitor in me?”
“Since your very first day.”
Then there was silence. I tried to think about all I had heard and learned in the past day. Hyl’n could have gotten his wish at any time… if only he’d truly applied himself? Girman was going to undermine a whole planet’s government… to make it up to him for replacing him with me? But I was asleep again before I could really think very much about anything.
When I woke again, my master was fucking me gently from behind, his arms around me and his cock inside me, holding me fast. There was much more going on here than I understood, but I understood the most important things, the most basic things. I was his now—in every way his—and that was all that mattered.
*The End*
Rest in peace, Brian. I’m going to miss you terribly.

6 Comments

  1. I’m so sorry, Cecilia. My heart and prayers go out to you and to all of Brian’s friends and Family.
    BIG HUGS!!

  2. Your sharing this story is such a wonderful way to honor his obviously giving, caring spirit. May you find reason to smile among the good memories, and comfort in the company of those who love and care for you.

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