…or, The Horns Of A Dilemma
Turning to family had turned into a bust.
My mom’s elven grandfather had always been a presence in our lives, but a distant one. I’d never realized before how distant and alien he really was. He’d lived in Phalen with my grandpa and my uncle for a decade starting a few years before I was born, but then he’d gone back home around when I turned seven, when Grandpa moved to Westphale to be closer to us. He hadn’t been back.
He had the money to travel, but elves didn’t cross the ocean more often than they had to. Before human innovation, ocean travel had been viewed as unacceptably risky compared to just staying on dry land. Even with modern improvements, it was still dicey. Elves spoke of the continents as if they were separate worlds. They often acted like going from one to another was passing from one life to the next.
The elven community in Phalen had even thrown a funeral for him before he sailed back.
Modern communications made that all a little melodramatic, since you could keep in touch with somebody across the world as easily as you could across the hall if you both had linked-in magic mirrors, but elven customs were slow to change since there was always somebody left who remembered the old way.
It seemed like that was true of the stag bracelets. Alli had treated me like an extension of Iason, or a possession of his. I’m sure she would have been immortally offended if I’d told her what my other bracelet did. Seeing my great-grandfather reacting in so much the same way probably shouldn’t have surprised me much. He was a product of the generations that Alli had only heard stories of.
He didn’t know what was going on in my life, though. He hadn’t bothered to ask. I was Iason’s mount, sometimes. When I wanted to be. I was no one’s property. I was my own man.
I was maybe a little bit his bitch when it came to the bedroom stuff, but only because I liked him a bit.
But I wasn’t anybody’s beast of burden.
I decided to prove it by going back to my room and taking my sexuality into my own hands. It wasn’t quite fucking someone in the ass but it was a step up from bending over and taking it all the time. I could tell Iason, Alli, and everybody else to go fuck themselves and still get myself off. I’d been doing it for years.
Even after the thing with Alli—both the epic fucking and the insane fight that had followed—it didn’t take much to get my worked up. Something had been building every time I watched the dragons and their riders do their acrobatics. Alli had given some of that a release, but that was like trying to appease starvation with an hors d’oeuvres. Like bailing out a sinking ship with a thimble.
It felt hollow without Violet in the next room to cheer me on, for about a minute. Then I started thinking about her. She did have, as she’d put, a “big fat ass”, but I figured she’d be as tight inside as anybody else. Tighter, even, since she was a virgin all over.
Everywhere but in her mind, and in mine.
I’m jerking it to you and you’re not here, I thought. It was kind of sad, but also thrilling. Like a secret. Violet doesn’t know I’m jerking to her. That made it hotter.
Yeah. There was no question about it. Having a mental relationship with a telepath made masturbation weird.
Is that what we have? I thought.
Yes, yes it was. She touched my cock with her mind about every time she saw me. That’s not shaking hands.
I finished with Violet and thought of Pala. She would be a virgin, too. She’d have to be. Nobody could be that naive and not be. Was a part-giant woman tighter because of the extra strength, or looser because of the added size? I didn’t know. I wouldn’t find out in real life. There was no reason I couldn’t assume it would be just tight enough to make it a little rough for her.
She could take it. She was tough. I didn’t have to be gentle with a quarter-giant or whatever she was. Would she cry? Probably. Would I stop? No. She’d take it. She liked it.
Violet and Pala. Violet with her huge nipples and her messed-up brain and Pala with her huge everything and her empty head. I went through both of them, separate and together. In my mind, I fucked them hard, without preparation, without lubrication, without mercy or consideration.
I came, but it wasn’t very fulfilling.
But I couldn’t think of anything else. Those were the scenarios that presented themselves to me. Fucking Violet in the ass. Fucking Pala in the ass. Fucking random girls I’d seen. Fucking Margaret, the human dragon rider. I even imagined her chain belt thing to be an actual set of restraints. Not something I normally went for, but I was in a strange mood.
It turned me on, but there was no joy in the pleasure. I felt like I was a golem.
Did I need Violet there? That would be a messed-up turn of events, if I couldn’t enjoy myself without an audience. I’d never thought of myself as an exhibitionist.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t getting off. I didn’t have any problem getting it up. Even talking to my great-grandfather had left me a little swollen.
Not that he turned me on. But what he’d said, about yielding my flesh to Iason—I wasn’t going to yield always, but as long as I was into him anyway, it was just, well, what a way to put it. Obey your rider in all things. Yield yourself up to him.
Like I’d thought before, the reality could be disturbing as hell but the image, the idea was hot. It felt good being ridden by a guy like Iason. In both sense of the word. When I didn’t have his smug face telling me it, it was fun to imagine that my ass and my mouth had been made for him to fill.
Probably only because it would mean more sex, all the time, though.
I realized the new bracelet on my right wrist was throwing me off. Physically, I meant. I wasn’t used to the weight. I took it off. That was better. I imagined Iason, but toned down just a little. It was a difference of degree more than type of behavior. Still arrogant, still pushy, still horny as hell.
I imagined him whispering “You are mine,” and then I came about twenty times harder than I ever had by myself.
A shower seemed to be in order after that. Even if I hadn’t gotten all sweaty again, I didn’t want to see Iason with sweat from sex with Alli on my body. I didn’t feel like getting dressed again, so I wrapped a big towel around my waist and checked the peephole. Seeing that it was clear, I headed out and turned left down the boys’ hall only to almost run into Iolana, who was coming up it from the lounge door.
“Whoa!” she said, holding up her hands in front of her. She glanced down. “Whoa,” she said again.
“Sorry,” I said. I tried not to blush in front of her. I fixed the towel, that had slipped open and fallen a bit. “Didn’t think I’d run into any g—any body.”
“No problem,” she said. She grinned. “Modesty’s not a big part of life in the Moai islands.“ I could believe that. The wrap she was wearing as a top wasn’t quite covering her nipples. “I guess Missy wasn’t entirely full of shit.”
“What, is she telling people I’m a needle-dicked faggot or something?”
“Maybe she was,” Iolana said. “But since Marlot started talking about Robert’s junk, she’s been telling everybody you’re a well-hung stud.”
“Marlot said what?” I asked
“Missy said,” Iolana said. She started to walk past me, turning to keep facing me as she headed away. “But I wouldn’t pay too much attention either way. A girl like that talks to keep the wind away, you know?”
I guessed that meant she liked the sound of her own voice. That was true enough.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Anyway, I won’t keep you out here like this, so I’ll talk to you later—Jimmy?” she said, at the corner.
“Jamie,” I said. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“I’m—”
“Iolana,” I said.
“Lonnie,” she said. “Call me Lonnie. Everybody else does, and I kind of like it.”
“Seriously?” I said. “But Iolana’s so exotic.”
I had figured that would be a compliment, but she scowled.
“It’s just a name,“ she said. “I had three cousins named Iolana, and none named Lonnie.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t—Lonnie it is, then. Talk to you later?”
“Yeah, okay,” she said. Then she headed up the girls’ hall, out of sight.
I made a mental note to stop interrupting girls when they were introducing themselves or being introduced. It only sounded suave if I got it right. Actually, it probably wasn’t that suave even then.
Not that I’d need an introduction. Maybe the next time we talked she’d remember my name and realize I knew who she was. I wondered if she wasn’t a little airheaded herself. I could understand me not making an impression on her—at least up until the point where I’d flashed my thing at her in the hall. To somebody who didn’t have an elven fetish, I was a pretty regular looking guy.
But she had to remember that we’d talked. How could she not know that I’d remember her?
She was different. Foreign. Beautiful. If she traded her clothes for scales, she could almost have been one of the mermaids in Harlowe. That was an image worth savoring. Three mermaids. That kept me occupied in the shower.
The fight with Alli had disturbed me, but she hadn’t managed to turn me into a eunuch metaphorically, either. However much the thought of yielding to Iason turned me on, I wasn’t ready to grant him an exclusive right-of-way.
We’d see how I felt after watching him fight. I might just give him a parade permit and close off all access from the side streets.
I’d definitely been around Marlot too much. I needed some better metaphors.
