Elaina M. Roberts's Blog: News from the Between, page 7

Halloween 2014 – Candelabra

The weather continues to cooperate so I can work on Halloween props. First marked off the list is the main candelabra for the Gypsy Fortune Teller’s tent. While I still need to put the candles in, the structure of the candelabra is complete. I think it looks great. It’s also heavy as fuck!

First off, let me give credit where it’s due. This is not my idea. I took it off a few websites, namely this one and this one. I priced elaborate candelabra at thrift stores, flea markets, and antique shops. When I could find them (most often at the antique shops), they ranges anywhere from $50 for rather plain ones up to $75-100 for ones like I wanted. I am cheap. I wouldn’t pay that for a set to go in my house to be used every single day. So, I asked the almighty oracle, Google, for help. He blessed me with the above links (and strange porn sites, but hey, it’s Google).

If you don’t want to go to those sites, though I think you should, here’s the Cliff’s Notes version of the instructions. Find two lamps. One needs to have either a wide base or heavy base to act as the bottom half of the candelabra. The other needs to have the number of arms, or spots for candles/bulbs, that you want. They need to be in a somewhat similar design so it doesn’t clash. My first topper clashed, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

My first search netted me the base. It was heavy, fancy, and cheap – I found it at a thrift store for $3. The first thing I did was remove all the hardware to take it completely apart. I discarded the wiring, the bulb housing, and the bits that held the shade in place. It didn’t have the lamp shade, so that was one less thing to throw in the trash. Unfortunately, I don’t have a “before” picture with it in all its dull, antique gold colored glory, but here is the “after” with its shiny new paint.

Ain’t I pretty?

This is one stout lamp.

A few days later, I found a topper, but I never really cared for it. It only held three bulbs/candles and, was very streamlined and plain. It started life as really tacky brass lamp. It will end life as something else. Just not this candelabra.

Then last week I stumbled across this little gem. Yes! I took a “before” picture this time! It was a chandelier with the chain to hang from the ceiling. It holds a wonderful SIX bulbs/candles. It is also beefy enough so the base won’t overpower it. And did I mention it was cheap? It was a steal at only $5!

I’m too sexy for my wiring…

Ain’t she pretty? Ignore the mess. Workshops are supposed to be messy, right?

So, the chandelier got the same treatment as the base. I removed all the wiring and bulb housings – those went in the trash. Then I took off all of the arms, caps, bowls (?) – the bits that hold the bulbs/candles – and gave them a new paintjob in the same shiny black as the base. Then I realized I had a problem. Though this is a rather beefy chandelier, it’s post is nowhere near as wide as the top of the base. I needed something to transition from that wide base to the narrower post.

I tried a few things, recycled parts from the other lamps, stuff I had around the house, voodoo. None of it worked. So, I went out to Hobby Lobby and got some styrofoam discs. The first… well, we won’t talk about him. He ended up in the trash. But the second worked out great. I shaved it down to fit inside the wide top part of the base, and angled the top a bit. It made a nice shift between the two except for three things:

It’s bumpy (as styrofoam will be). Everything else is rather smooth.
It’s a very stark white while everything else is black.
You can’t spray paint styrofoam. The accelerant will melt the foam and you’ll end up with a goopy pile that looks like a shiny black turd. Not my goal.

To be able to cover the bumpiness and paint it, I chose papier mache as my first plan. It worked great. Except… the lines for each strip of paper was plain to see. How to cover them? The next layer was unbleached muslin. It covered the paper strips well and gave me a nice smooth look. Hurrah! Well, then I painted it. Not so hurrah. Cloth sucks up paint like a hooker named Hoover. It also dried a very dull color even though I used a glossy paint. So, I slathered that thing with about three inches of PVA glue, let it dry for two days, then tried again. It worked!

A long threaded rod up the center holds it all together. This thing weighs a ton. My next game of Clue will definitely have Colonel Mustard in the Garage with the Candlestick because… dayum! Like I said, it still needs the candles. And for it to stop raining. But the first prop for the new Gypsy Fortune Teller is complete. Go me!

One sexy candelabra.

Halloween 2014 – Planning

Our family are Halloween nuts. We can tell you how much fake webbing it takes to cover the entire front of our house (2400 sq feet). We have researched the names of all those hanged at Salem for a set of tombstones. We have a tackle box full of make up – to include liquid latex, spirit gum, and purchased prosthetics. We have two HUGE plastic bins – one full of small props like skulls and specimen jars, the other contains two bodies, a lovely desiccated corpse made from a cheap skeleton and liquid latex and the bottom half of some poor soul with his guts hanging out. We have yet another bin of costumes, wigs, etc.Yes. We are nutty over Halloween.

For the past two years, though, our decorations have suffered from unusual situations combined with apathy. Our theme has remained mostly unchanged for several years, which has produced a bit of “meh” feeling. The excitement kinda sputtered and fizzled out. The unusual situations include – last year my daughter and I got caught in NYC during Sandy, arriving home after Trick or Treating was over. We didn’t even put out the decorations at all!. This year, hubby had his motorcycle accident which kept him from helping drag stuff from the attic. But next year? Next year is going to ROCK just as soon as we get our project list completed!

The  kinda-sorta small(ish) project list -

Fix existing tombstones, if possible – with storage at a premium and all of it hard to access, they’ve spent the past 1-2 years outside exposed to the elements. They need repainting at the very least, some structural support, and some work on the bases.
Create at least a half-dozen new tombstones – I think we have enough foam, but we also need names, dates, etc. I want to do two above-ground crypts – one with a fountain so it looks like this (actual, non-photoshopped) grave we found in downtown Montgomery -

Fix our desiccated skeleton corpse dude. He’s falling apart at the arm joints and the head. Either we simply use him for a torso, or he’s going to need some serious work.

We have three new sections planned for the yard, a Gypsy Fortune Teller tent, a mad scientist’s lab, and a haunted swamp. This year, we’re adding the Gypsy Fortune Teller since I already know what I want to go in there and I’m willing to get started on it now instead of waiting until the last minute.

Gypsy fortune teller – this will be a new addition to our haunt. It’s less scary than the rest, but will have some nifty items that should lend a nice atmosphere. This one is my baby, meaning I’m making all the pieces and will be the adult manning the tent, and will have a variety of non-candy goodies for the kids such as mardi gras beads for the older kids and hard-page books for the under three crowd. Yes, we get several babes in arms as trick or treaters.
Tent – Alter a pop-up pavillion or make one out of PVC. I have scoured the thrift stores over the past month or so and picked up a variety of lovely drapes to decorate this tent. The curtains will only hang on two sides. The other two will be open/have bead curtains to allow the kiddies to pass through.
Travelling apothecary kit – I have most of the ingredient/specimen bottles I think I’ll need, but I’d like to make a wooden case for a display. The reason is two-fold. 1. Previous years, it was part of the display but not near the children, so leaving it out and accessible was fine. This year, the kids will walk really close to it. I’m looking for a bit of security. 2. Storage. If I create a case to hold the bottles, then, hey, I have a place to store them the other eleven months of the year!
Candelabra – If you’ve never priced a candelabra with 3, 4, or 5+ bulbs, then you might not be aware of just how freakin’ expensive they are. I refuse to pay $60-100 for one candelabra that I’m going to paint black and use one month a year. And that’s IF you can find one for actual candles and not a lamp that you have to gut. So, I’m making my own, bodging together lamp parts (gutted of the wiring) to make some unique and rather strange candelabra. This project is actually in progress, and I should have one completed within a week or so. There’ll be a separate post with full details later.
Crystal ball – with lights and everything! Well, we hope so anyway. We got really lucky. My daughter found this little gem at the local charity shop for only $2.50. She’s getting extra pressies for this find! We just need to rig up lighting (she’s offered the use of the spinning light/motor from an old disco ball of hers), and whatever else is going in there. Schweeet!
Other decorations – Yeah, that’s specific, isn’t it? Well, that’s because I don’t have any hard and fast plans. I haven’t purchased the pavillion and thus don’t really know how much space I have to work with. I’ve looked at 9x9s,10x10s, and 12x12s. I do know I want to include the above, plus a few things in shadowboxes, either a Ouija board or my tarot cards or both, and various other bits and baubles to set the mood.
Scare gag – No. Freaking. Clue. The tent will either be the last thing they go through on our property (or the first, depending on which direction they come from). I’ll have the other stuff listed above, but nothing truly scary figured out. I have a ‘critter in a box’ – a wooden chest with a strobe light that has scary sounds and a wacky weasel ball. There’ll be plenty of spider webbing and fake spiders. But… I dunno. If anyone has any reasonable (read: cheap and easy to make) suggestions, please throw them at me!

So there you have it. While most folks are gearing up for Christmas, I’m planning and working on Halloween 2014. What’s your favorite holiday and how do you go nuts over it?

Draxton’s Destiny (10) – Inside the Pit

I will never again create a character who speaks in rhyme. Never. If I ever go insane enough to actually consider it again, someone please kick my ass all over the place until you beat the idea back out of me. The narakir drive me crazy. Never again!

Okay, now that I’ve got that out of my system, please note the usual disclaimers about age, sex, MM romance, etc etc. If you don’t like it, just move along.

This week’s prompt was a bit hard to insert into where the story was at the end of last week:

Man’s Best Friend – Give your main character(s) a pet: dog, cat, faerie, dinosaur, etc. Whatever fits your world and/or your character(s)’s personality. They can keep it, find it a home, or recount a childhood pet now lost.

I chose the latter because, I just couldn’t see these two adopting a puppy so early into their relationship. It fits, sorta, and may seem a tad forced, but there was an interrogation to complete and that made happy pet time very hard to work in.

Also, I found this motivational poster on the web. It originally said “Fire Elemental” where I placed “Narakir” but since the narakir are based on elementals, I thought it worked.

Previous chapters (in order):

Brixys
The Gift
Decisions
Under Attack
The Traitor
Beware the Hydra
The Temple of Zarik’shaa
Elements of Truth
Draxton’s Destiny – The Narakir

*****

“Brixys really thinks we’re going to believe the Circle arranged all this – bringing me here, sending you, the attack on Minshaar? He’s as crazy as you are. They have too much to lose with nothing to gain if they’re discovered.” Draxton relaxed his grip enough to prevent the narakir from losing consciousness. It was too bloody cold in the damp cell to screw this up and have to wait.

“Believe the truth or believe the lie,” the narakir giggled. It relaxed beneath Draxton’s weight, making him wary. “The Noble triumphs if the King dies. The Circle watch, they wait, they plan – to destroy the winner and claim the Land.”

Draxton placed his knee into the small of the narakir’s back. He shifted his weight and pulled, bowing the creature’s back into a painful arch. It scrabbled at his arm as it struggled for breath.

“Listen to me, narakir. I don’t have time for your cutesy rhyming bullshit. In less than twenty-four hours, the Minshaari meets with the Circle, one of whom is your buddy, Brixys. So, unless you want to live out your days encased in a cryogenic bodysuit writing odes to snowflakes, you might want to start making a bit of fucking sense.”

“Foolish human. You are the key.” The narakir rose to its hands and knees. Draxton tightened his grip on the creature’s neck and wrapped his legs around its waist as it gained its footing. “Savior or destroyer, which will you be?”

The creature backpedalled across the uneven floor with amazing agility, slamming Draxton into the smooth stone wall. He released his wrist long enough to send a jab into its back and prayed it had kidneys. It gave a pained snarl that sounded like someone poured water over hot coals. He struck twice more for good measure before again locking in his hold.

“Saviors can falter; destroyers can fall.” An elbow jabbed into his stomach, stealing his breath. Draxton punched the creature’s jaw, but the angle prevented him from putting any real force behind it. “Keys can be lost or broken or bent. Who–”

“This key is going to break you in about ten seconds if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

Another run toward the wall loosened Draxton’s hold on the narakir’s neck. The creature had found all the bumps and ridges in the walls in his many circuits around the room, all the jagged bits of stone to use as a weapon. Blood trickled down his back as the narakir slipped from his grasp and turned to face him. Its thin lips twisted into a mockery of a smile.

“Without the king, the Land will fall. Without the key, the king will fall. King and key, Circle and land. Who will gain the upper hand?”

The narakir was fast – faster than most humans, faster than some modified soldiers, but he was untrained. The Legion used only the finest modified instructors for its grunt troops. Your speed improved, or you flunked out. Draxton never failed. He waited for the creature to attack and stepped aside at the last second. As moved, he brought his elbow up and into the narakir’s jaw. He was rewarded with the satisfying crunch of bone.

“You didn’t come here to kill the Minshaari.” He grunted as a foot caught him in the stomach but caught it and flipped the narakir onto its back. The creature flung a handful of dirt into his face as it scrambled out of his grasp. His eyes watered and left streaks in the dirt on his face. He swiped away the dirt and tears and followed its steady circle around the Pit. “You came to kill me.”

The narakir grinned, showing rows of pointed teeth as its eyes shone with madness. It bounced on the balls of its feet, swaying from side to side. Draxton tensed as it feinted to the left then batted aside the round-house kick coming from the right. It tried the same maneuver twice more, then reversed the order – feinting right, then attacking from the left. It was an amateurish ploy, easily countered. The creature’s failures sent it into a fit of maniacal giggles.

“Go to the meeting, human key.” The narakir slashed at his face with broken, filthy nails. “Learn the truth and you will see. The Circle wants the Minshaari gone so they can rule the world alone.”

“That’s it. I’m outta here.” Draxton stepped carefully around the perimeter to remain opposite the dangerously unpredictable creature. “You’re talking so much shit, you’re in dire need of a breath mint.”

The damp cell grew warm as the narakir hissed its rage. It pushed off the side of the wall and slammed into Draxton’s chest with breath-robbing force. They scrambled on the floor, each seeking the advantage. Fists punched. Claws raked over exposed skin. When a knee landed closer to his nuts than was comfortable, the sergeant knew it was time to end this.

He caught a solid hit to his kidney and a stinking rake of jagged claws down his thigh as he wrestled into position. He returned to the choke hold, applying constant pressure to the sides of the creature’s neck to cut off precious blood flow to the brain. The narakir left deep gashes in his arm as it struggled against the inevitable, but Draxton only tightened his hold. When it finally fell limp, he kept the pressure for another thirty seconds to be certain. Brain damage might actually improve the bastard’s outlook on life.

Draxton struggled to his feet and kicked the narakir aside. Using the prearranged code word, he yelled for the rope and caught it as it descended from the ceiling. Stepping into the loop at the end, he kept his eyes on the crazed creature the entire trip through the hatch. The Minshaari caught him as he surfaced and wrapped him in both a blanket and his muykeesh.

“Fill the Pit with a meter of water. See if the narakir conjures fire from that.” Two of the guards saluted and ran to fulfill their orders while Kasseus guided Draxton to the transport platform. “Give us two hours to clean up, Fieryl, then we need to discuss the narakir’s accusations.”

“I’ll give you three, my Minshaari. I may be able to discover its sponsor, but it will take time.”

“Very well. We’ll see you at dinner, my friend.”

******

The scalding water thawed his chilled limbs as it poured from the many jets. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the luxury, nor did he believe he’d ever miss the sonic cleaners common to the Alliance’s space stations. He leaned against the slim but strong body of Kasseus Minshaar as the Seshinaar’s glowing green hands directed healing magic to the worst of his injuries. The combination of water and muykeesh stung his many scrapes and gashes, but felt absolutely divine. He leaned his head back against his lover’s shoulder with a contented sigh.

“You sound like a domesticated lykalion I had as a child, Drax.” Kasseus chuckled and placed soft kisses along Draxton’s shoulder. The soft glow faded as the cuts knit, leaving behind only faint bruises as a reminder of his fight with the narakir. “He purred too if rubbed the right way.”

“Should I be flattered or insulted?”

“Definitely flattered. Lykalions are an intelligent and fierce breed of jungle cat. They’re territorial and loyal, Some believe they share a distant ancestor with the rakshasa.”

“A jungle cat. You had a tiger for a pet?” He turned and nipped the Seshinaar’s jaw, grinning when he felt the evidence of the male’s arousal. “Is that what you’re doing now, Kasseus? Looking for a bit of pussy?”

He yelped when his lover pinched his nipple hard. “That’s what you get for being crude. An no, a lykalion isn’t a tiger. It’s much smaller, more compact, with soft brown fur and little tufts on their ears.”

“Sounds similar to an Old Earth cat called a lynx. The Alliance cloned some about five years ago for Odysseus Three’s zoo. Beautiful creatures. Stout, muscular, and deadly.”

“How very apt.” Kasseus trailed his fingers along the muscled ridge of his abdomen. Draxton accepted the comparison with a groan as the Minshaari’s fingers danced along the head of his rigid cock. “I even named him Azyr. A bit of foreshadowing, don’t you think?”

“I think I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t move those hands lower.” Even without the tingling of magic, the Seshinaar’s hands raised goose bumps everywhere they touched. They skimmed over his chest, teased his nipples, and combed through the coarse curls at the base of his swelling cock. Draxton gripped Kasseus’ hips as tendrils of magic encircled his shaft. “Fuck!”

“Patience, m’azyrha. We have plenty of time.”

“Not if you keep that up, we don’t.” He thrust into the strangely ethereal grip of his lover’s muykeesh.

“Then I’ll make sure we have more.” The glowing tendrils tightened around his cock until he felt the throbbing of his pulse as an erotic ache in his balls. Draxton groaned as his lover’s shaft nestled in the seam of his ass. Kasseus canted his hips and made short, sliding thrusts. Each movement teased him with possibility of fulfillment. It was delicious torture.

“Now who’s being the evil one?”

“Says the man who teased me to the edge of sanity at the temple. Revenge is sweet.”

Draxton agreed. The Minshaari’s magic maintained a constant pressure on his cock while the gorgeous male stroked and teased him with his talented fingers. Each time the coil of pleasure grew and spread along his nerves, each time his breath stuttered as he teetered on that cusp of ecstasy, the Seshinaar backed off. Soothed him. Brought him down from the ledge without letting the sensations fade completely. Then started all over again.

“Dammit, Kass, let me come!”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

The Minshaari moved so quickly, he barely had time to mourn the loss of his body against back before heaven surrounded his cock. The band of magic remained, holding back his release as a sinfully wicked tongue traced his length. Draxton’s eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure suffused his body. Kasseus’ mixture of magic and technique pulled sounds from his lips he would have sworn only belonged in a porno. The sergeant alternated between begging and threatening the gorgeous male for relief. When the Minshaari pressed a slick finger deep inside his ass and stroked his prostate just as he removed his magical restraints, Draxton dissolved into a mass of quivering, wordless ecstasy.

After his explosive orgasm, Kasseus helped him from the shower and used the sonic wand to dry them both. They stumbled to the bed, unwilling to separate for even a second as Draxton floated back to reality. A soft green glow surrounded them both and caused the living furniture to burst into bloom.

“You make me dream things, Kasseus Minshaar.” Draxton placed random kisses on the male’s shoulder. They lay in a tangle of limbs, stroking and caressing sensitive skin.

“Good things, I hope?”

“I think so. I’m not used to being so open around others. The Legion turned a blind eye when a couple of grunts worked off some frustration, but frowned on relationships. Relationships made us weak. A partner became the enemy’s leverage. My drill sergeant told us that he didn’t issue dreams because we weren’t gonna live long enough to worry about it. After a few campaigns, you believe it.”

“And now?” The Seshinaar’s green-streaked hair tumbled over his shoulder to tickle Draxton’s cheek. He nuzzled against its satiny strands as he pulled the male closer. His desire stirred at the feel of the smooth, muscular body against his.

He rolled Kasseus onto his back and captured his lips in a deep, lingering kiss. “Being with you could never make me weak even when you rob me of my senses. Yeah, I definitely think this is a good thing.”

Draxton’s Destiny – Inside the Pit

I will never again create a character who speaks in rhyme. Never. If I ever go insane enough to actually consider it again, someone please kick my ass all over the place until you beat the idea back out of me. The narakir drive me crazy. Never again!

Okay, now that I’ve got that out of my system, please note the usual disclaimers about age, sex, MM romance, etc etc. If you don’t like it, just move along.

This week’s prompt was a bit hard to insert into where the story was at the end of last week:

Man’s Best Friend – Give your main character(s) a pet: dog, cat, faerie, dinosaur, etc. Whatever fits your world and/or your character(s)’s personality. They can keep it, find it a home, or recount a childhood pet now lost.

I chose the latter because, I just couldn’t see these two adopting a puppy so early into their relationship. It fits, sorta, and may seem a tad forced, but there was an interrogation to complete and that made happy pet time very hard to work in.

Also, I found this motivational poster on the web. It originally said “Fire Elemental” where I placed “Narakir” but since the narakir are based on elementals, I thought it worked.

Previous chapters (in order):

Brixys
The Gift
Decisions
Under Attack
The Traitor
Beware the Hydra
The Temple of Zarik’shaa
Elements of Truth
Draxton’s Destiny – The Narakir

*****

“Brixys really thinks we’re going to believe the Circle arranged all this – bringing me here, sending you, the attack on Minshaar? He’s as crazy as you are. They have too much to lose with nothing to gain if they’re discovered.” Draxton relaxed his grip enough to prevent the narakir from losing consciousness. It was too bloody cold in the damp cell to screw this up and have to wait.

“Believe the truth or believe the lie,” the narakir giggled. It relaxed beneath Draxton’s weight, making him wary. “The Noble triumphs if the King dies. The Circle watch, they wait, they plan – to destroy the winner and claim the Land.”

Draxton placed his knee into the small of the narakir’s back. He shifted his weight and pulled, bowing the creature’s back into a painful arch. It scrabbled at his arm as it struggled for breath.

“Listen to me, narakir. I don’t have time for your cutesy rhyming bullshit. In less than twenty-four hours, the Minshaari meets with the Circle, one of whom is your buddy, Brixys. So, unless you want to live out your days encased in a cryogenic bodysuit writing odes to snowflakes, you might want to start making a bit of fucking sense.”

“Foolish human. You are the key.” The narakir rose to its hands and knees. Draxton tightened his grip on the creature’s neck and wrapped his legs around its waist as it gained its footing. “Savior or destroyer, which will you be?”

The creature backpedalled across the uneven floor with amazing agility, slamming Draxton into the smooth stone wall. He released his wrist long enough to send a jab into its back and prayed it had kidneys. It gave a pained snarl that sounded like someone poured water over hot coals. He struck twice more for good measure before again locking in his hold.

“Saviors can falter; destroyers can fall.” An elbow jabbed into his stomach, stealing his breath. Draxton punched the creature’s jaw, but the angle prevented him from putting any real force behind it. “Keys can be lost or broken or bent. Who–”

“This key is going to break you in about ten seconds if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

Another run toward the wall loosened Draxton’s hold on the narakir’s neck. The creature had found all the bumps and ridges in the walls in his many circuits around the room, all the jagged bits of stone to use as a weapon. Blood trickled down his back as the narakir slipped from his grasp and turned to face him. Its thin lips twisted into a mockery of a smile.

“Without the king, the Land will fall. Without the key, the king will fall. King and key, Circle and land. Who will gain the upper hand?”

The narakir was fast – faster than most humans, faster than some modified soldiers, but he was untrained. The Legion used only the finest modified instructors for its grunt troops. Your speed improved, or you flunked out. Draxton never failed. He waited for the creature to attack and stepped aside at the last second. As moved, he brought his elbow up and into the narakir’s jaw. He was rewarded with the satisfying crunch of bone.

“You didn’t come here to kill the Minshaari.” He grunted as a foot caught him in the stomach but caught it and flipped the narakir onto its back. The creature flung a handful of dirt into his face as it scrambled out of his grasp. His eyes watered and left streaks in the dirt on his face. He swiped away the dirt and tears and followed its steady circle around the Pit. “You came to kill me.”

The narakir grinned, showing rows of pointed teeth as its eyes shone with madness. It bounced on the balls of its feet, swaying from side to side. Draxton tensed as it feinted to the left then batted aside the round-house kick coming from the right. It tried the same maneuver twice more, then reversed the order – feinting right, then attacking from the left. It was an amateurish ploy, easily countered. The creature’s failures sent it into a fit of maniacal giggles.

“Go to the meeting, human key.” The narakir slashed at his face with broken, filthy nails. “Learn the truth and you will see. The Circle wants the Minshaari gone so they can rule the world alone.”

“That’s it. I’m outta here.” Draxton stepped carefully around the perimeter to remain opposite the dangerously unpredictable creature. “You’re talking so much shit, you’re in dire need of a breath mint.”

The damp cell grew warm as the narakir hissed its rage. It pushed off the side of the wall and slammed into Draxton’s chest with breath-robbing force. They scrambled on the floor, each seeking the advantage. Fists punched. Claws raked over exposed skin. When a knee landed closer to his nuts than was comfortable, the sergeant knew it was time to end this.

He caught a solid hit to his kidney and a stinking rake of jagged claws down his thigh as he wrestled into position. He returned to the choke hold, applying constant pressure to the sides of the creature’s neck to cut off precious blood flow to the brain. The narakir left deep gashes in his arm as it struggled against the inevitable, but Draxton only tightened his hold. When it finally fell limp, he kept the pressure for another thirty seconds to be certain. Brain damage might actually improve the bastard’s outlook on life.

Draxton struggled to his feet and kicked the narakir aside. Using the prearranged code word, he yelled for the rope and caught it as it descended from the ceiling. Stepping into the loop at the end, he kept his eyes on the crazed creature the entire trip through the hatch. The Minshaari caught him as he surfaced and wrapped him in both a blanket and his muykeesh.

“Fill the Pit with a meter of water. See if the narakir conjures fire from that.” Two of the guards saluted and ran to fulfill their orders while Kasseus guided Draxton to the transport platform. “Give us two hours to clean up, Fieryl, then we need to discuss the narakir’s accusations.”

“I’ll give you three, my Minshaari. I may be able to discover its sponsor, but it will take time.”

“Very well. We’ll see you at dinner, my friend.”

******

The scalding water thawed his chilled limbs as it poured from the many jets. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the luxury, nor did he believe he’d ever miss the sonic cleaners common to the Alliance’s space stations. He leaned against the slim but strong body of Kasseus Minshaar as the Seshinaar’s glowing green hands directed healing magic to the worst of his injuries. The combination of water and muykeesh stung his many scrapes and gashes, but felt absolutely divine. He leaned his head back against his lover’s shoulder with a contented sigh.

“You sound like a domesticated lykalion I had as a child, Drax.” Kasseus chuckled and placed soft kisses along Draxton’s shoulder. The soft glow faded as the cuts knit, leaving behind only faint bruises as a reminder of his fight with the narakir. “He purred too if rubbed the right way.”

“Should I be flattered or insulted?”

“Definitely flattered. Lykalions are an intelligent and fierce breed of jungle cat. They’re territorial and loyal, Some believe they share a distant ancestor with the rakshasa.”

“A jungle cat. You had a tiger for a pet?” He turned and nipped the Seshinaar’s jaw, grinning when he felt the evidence of the male’s arousal. “Is that what you’re doing now, Kasseus? Looking for a bit of pussy?”

He yelped when his lover pinched his nipple hard. “That’s what you get for being crude. An no, a lykalion isn’t a tiger. It’s much smaller, more compact, with soft brown fur and little tufts on their ears.”

“Sounds similar to an Old Earth cat called a lynx. The Alliance cloned some about five years ago for Odysseus Three’s zoo. Beautiful creatures. Stout, muscular, and deadly.”

“How very apt.” Kasseus trailed his fingers along the muscled ridge of his abdomen. Draxton accepted the comparison with a groan as the Minshaari’s fingers danced along the head of his rigid cock. “I even named him Azyr. A bit of foreshadowing, don’t you think?”

“I think I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t move those hands lower.” Even without the tingling of magic, the Seshinaar’s hands raised goose bumps everywhere they touched. They skimmed over his chest, teased his nipples, and combed through the coarse curls at the base of his swelling cock. Draxton gripped Kasseus’ hips as tendrils of magic encircled his shaft. “Fuck!”

“Patience, m’azyrha. We have plenty of time.”

“Not if you keep that up, we don’t.” He thrust into the strangely ethereal grip of his lover’s muykeesh.

“Then I’ll make sure we have more.” The glowing tendrils tightened around his cock until he felt the throbbing of his pulse as an erotic ache in his balls. Draxton groaned as his lover’s shaft nestled in the seam of his ass. Kasseus canted his hips and made short, sliding thrusts. Each movement teased him with possibility of fulfillment. It was delicious torture.

“Now who’s being the evil one?”

“Says the man who teased me to the edge of sanity at the temple. Revenge is sweet.”

Draxton agreed. The Minshaari’s magic maintained a constant pressure on his cock while the gorgeous male stroked and teased him with his talented fingers. Each time the coil of pleasure grew and spread along his nerves, each time his breath stuttered as he teetered on that cusp of ecstasy, the Seshinaar backed off. Soothed him. Brought him down from the ledge without letting the sensations fade completely. Then started all over again.

“Dammit, Kass, let me come!”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

The Minshaari moved so quickly, he barely had time to mourn the loss of his body against back before heaven surrounded his cock. The band of magic remained, holding back his release as a sinfully wicked tongue traced his length. Draxton’s eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure suffused his body. Kasseus’ mixture of magic and technique pulled sounds from his lips he would have sworn only belonged in a porno. The sergeant alternated between begging and threatening the gorgeous male for relief. When the Minshaari pressed a slick finger deep inside his ass and stroked his prostate just as he removed his magical restraints, Draxton dissolved into a mass of quivering, wordless ecstasy.

After his explosive orgasm, Kasseus helped him from the shower and used the sonic wand to dry them both. They stumbled to the bed, unwilling to separate for even a second as Draxton floated back to reality. A soft green glow surrounded them both and caused the living furniture to burst into bloom.

“You make me dream things, Kasseus Minshaar.” Draxton placed random kisses on the male’s shoulder. They lay in a tangle of limbs, stroking and caressing sensitive skin.

“Good things, I hope?”

“I think so. I’m not used to being so open around others. The Legion turned a blind eye when a couple of grunts worked off some frustration, but frowned on relationships. Relationships made us weak. A partner became the enemy’s leverage. My drill sergeant told us that he didn’t issue dreams because we weren’t gonna live long enough to worry about it. After a few campaigns, you believe it.”

“And now?” The Seshinaar’s green-streaked hair tumbled over his shoulder to tickle Draxton’s cheek. He nuzzled against its satiny strands as he pulled the male closer. His desire stirred at the feel of the smooth, muscular body against his.

He rolled Kasseus onto his back and captured his lips in a deep, lingering kiss. “Being with you could never make me weak even when you rob me of my senses. Yeah, I definitely think this is a good thing.”

Draxton’s Destiny (09) – The Narakir

I am so happy. I actually finished this one on time for once. Which is not to say that it all came easy. There were a lot of changes made to the piece, a lot of things added, deleted, re-added, deleted again. Finally, I set it aside for a day until I knew where I wanted it to go. It flowed pretty easily from there.

This week’s prompt was an image of a crypt or prison cell. It came at a perfect time in my story, though it was picked ages ago, and I hope the others don’t struggle with it too much. Please check out Night Tempest‘s blog for her Great Mage flash serial along with links to all the other participants. If you’d like to jump in and join the fun, contact her or me and you’ll be brought into the flashy loop. We’d like to see more stories (and no, they don’t have to be M/M, SciFi, fantasy, or even paranormal – nor do you have to write them in serial format)! Also, if you’re not reading Night’s Second City series on her blog, well, I can’t know you. Sorry.

The Pit

Previous chapters (in order):

Brixys
The Gift
Decisions
Under Attack
The Traitor
Beware the Hydra
The Temple of Zarik’shaa
Elements of Truth

******

As the platform approached Minshaar, Draxton watched their plans dissolve. Fieryl paced the dock with his ears pinned to his head. His tail swished as he hissed at anyone who wandered too close. He growled as they locked onto the dais. His golden glare raised the hairs on Draxton’s arms and put him on instant alert.

“What’s happened, Fieryl?” Kasseus jumped from the platform before it fully settled. Draxton landed a moment later.

“It’s the narakir, My Minshaari.” His ear twitched as the guards who had accompanied the couple arrived at the docks. “I’d rather not discuss it here.”

Kasseus arched a brow, but motioned for him to lead the way. “As you wish.”

The feline led them away from the public area. Draxton studied the new wing as they wound their way down the twisting corridors and into a spacious, yet Spartan room. A long table with seating for thirty filled the area. A frame displayed an ancient map of Minshaar on one wall, a virtual map receiving real-time data dominated another. The third contained vidscreens with feeds from various parts of the village, including the holding cells. The narakir danced around its bare, cold prison, muttering and giggling in its sing-song voice.

The soldier approached the vidscreens, shocked at the severity of the cell. It was little more than a rectangular room carved from stone. Stone and dirt covered the floor. Moss grew on the slick, damp walls. The sun provided the only light through a narrow window high above the floor. Ancient texts from Old Earth described similar prisons. His team often encountered creatures held in collapsed caverns or trapped in pits, but never upon a civilized planet. Until now.

“I’ve questioned it about its involvement in the attack, but it refuses to talk to anyone except Sgt. Larimore.”

“Me?” Draxton dragged his eyes away from the deranged creature. “What does he think I’ll do for him? He burned the hell out of me last time we got together for a chat.”

“You tell me, human.” The rakshasa crossed his arms over his furred chest and glared.

“How the hell should I know? He doesn’t exactly look in his right mind.”

“It specifically asked for you. By name. It chanted it over and over until I left its cell.” Fieryl stalked forward, ears and tail twitching. “How does it know your name, human? Does it think you’ll help it escape, or does it already know this?”

“I don’t like what you’re implying, cat.”

“You arrive under the most suspicious of circumstances and weasel your way into the Minshaari’s trust and affection within days of an important meeting of the Circle. You’ve admitted that Brixys’ intent was for you to act as his assassin, and we have only your word that you refused.” Fieryl’s tail puffed as his growl lowered in pitch yet increased in volume. “Now this crushá calls you by name and wants to speak to only you. Yes, I’m suspicious of you. It is my duty to protect my adopted home, my friends, and my Minshaari.”

“Brixys may be a hate-filled sack of shit, but that doesn’t make him stupid. He knew exactly what to say and do to get under your skin.” Draxton’s expression shuttered, revealing nothing of the turmoil inside him. He didn’t dare glance towards the Minshaari. He didn’t want confirmation that the beautiful Seshinaar shared his friend’s suspicions. “If this narakir is working for that bastard, it stands to reason he would know my name. Brixys coached him well to get exactly this type of reaction from you. The way to bring down any organization is to sow dissent from within.”

“Which makes you the perfect weapon.”

“Enough, Fieryl.” Authority saturated the Minshaari’s tone and demanded instant obedience. The rakshasa’s growls tapered away with a final hiss as Kasseus moved across the room to stand between the two. Draxton met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and pleading. “Draxton?”

“The cat is correct in that it’s the most logical and reasonable conclusion given the circumstances and the evidence.” His hands clenched and unclenched as he forced the confession past his lips. “If the situation was reversed, it’s what I would think.”

Kasseus muttered a curse in his lilting language. “Don’t you trust me at all?”

“Strangely, I do.” Some of the tension eased from Draxton’s shoulders, and he rubbed the back of his neck with a shaking hand. “We have known each other for such a short time, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. I felt it that first day, when Brixys paraded me before you like a sentient pleasure bot. There was a connection, there. Call it romantic nonsense or the gut feeling of a combat vet, but I know what I felt and still feel. I do trust you. The cat has every reason to suspect me. You have every reason to. But I swear to you, Kasseus, I’m not working for Brixys.”

The Seshinaar leaned forward and captured his lips in a heated kiss, deep and possessive. Draxton’s desire, on a slow burn since his last taste of his lover, flared to life at the first touch of Kasseus’ tongue. He chased the gorgeous male’s lips with a groan as he broke the kiss.

“I didn’t think you were,” Kasseus murmured against his lips between gentle nips and teasing licks.

Draxton was shocked at how much this man’s good opinion meant to him. He was a soldier used to transferring every cycle. Forming attachments created a weakness that an enemy could exploit. He took lovers; he did not enter into relationships. Yet, when he looked into Kasseus’ eyes, he saw more than the lust that remained on a constant simmer. He saw tomorrow. He saw the leaves changing from green to brown. He saw forever. It excited as much as it terrified him.

“It’s true then.” The rakshasa smirked as the couple reluctantly parted. “He really is your azyrha.”

“Yes, my friend.” Draxton stared down at their joined hands. Such public displays were frowned upon within the Legion. Few of his mates admitted that they found relief with other men. Even fewer accepted they were genuinely attracted to them. He fought the urge to pull his hand away even as he wanted to pull him closer. “We spent the morning at the Temple of Zarik’shaa. The Land recognized and accepted him.”

“Then, let me be the first to offer you my sincere congratulations, my Minshaari.” Fieryl offered them both a deep bow. As he straightened, his golden eyes locked with Draxton’s and his voice deepened to a growl. “Harm him in any way, human – physically, mentally, or emotionally – and I will take great delight in skinning the flesh from your body layer by layer as you beg for mercy.”

“Fieryl!”

“Kasseus, it’s okay. I understand where he’s coming from and agree.” Draxton brought their joined hands to his lips. “After we deal with the narakir, though, you’ve got to explain exactly what an azyrha is. I’m getting the idea it’s a bit more involved than just being a boyfriend.”

“We have many things to discuss, yes.” The Minshaari sighed and released his hand. As he approached the vidscreens, his expression hardened. “How much do you know of the narakir?”

“Not a damn thing. Only the elite troops ventured beyond the Rim. I was just a grunt.”

“Hardly.” Kasseus gave him a slow appraisal from head to toe. Draxton nearly melted on the spot at the heat in those emerald eyes when they locked with his. “You aren’t “just” anything, Draxton Larimore. As for the narakir, they are as infamous for their insanity as for their cunning. They are cheerfully psychotic, take great delight in inflicting pain on their victims, and will serve any master who gives them free reign to indulge in their murderous hobbies. In ancient times, they were called demons. Some religions called them elementals, for they’re tied one of the five basic elements of Seshinaar: fire, water, soil, air, and muykeesh.”

“Yeah, I remember how connected he is to fire.”

“Which is why it’s in the Pit. Cold, damp, and filled with stone that crumbles instead of sparks, this cell prevents the narakir from connecting to its element and regaining its strength.”

“You keep calling him “it.” Are they truly genderless or is that just a dig?”

Fieryl tapped a few times on one of the vidscreens and pulled up a complete breakdown of the narakir race. “From the few bodies we’ve retrieved after attacks, Seshinaar Law recognizes them as scientifically androgynous. Their mating rituals and reproduction are shrouded in mystery even after centuries of study. The narakir have massacred hundreds of research teams foolish enough to venture into their territory to study them.”

“Fascinating.” Draxton approached the screen and watched the featureless being cavort around the barren cell. “You said you needed answers, but it refuses to talk to anyone but me? Very well, tell me what I need to know to survive this interview.”

*****

The Pit was appropriately named. It was set deep into the ground on the forest floor into an old dried-up lake bed. Kasseus thought it was originally a storeroom from before the breaking of the monarchy, converted into a prison during the ensuing wars. A large grate covered the small opening at the top was its only entrance. Fieryl offered him a few last minute tips as he removed and set aside his clothing. Metal could cause a disastrous spark. Any material could build a static charge. He even buzzed his hair shorter than a recruit’s at boot camp.

The Minshaari scowled as he approached. He had protested Draxton actually going into the Pit. They tried to conduct the interview from above, but the narakir refused to yell up to the opening. With less than twenty-four hours until the Circle gathered, time was running out to gather all the evidence against Brixys. The slave bands had revealed much, but a confession from one of his assassins would sway even those most loyal to the neighboring chief. Draxton stiffened when Kasseus embraced him in front of his guards. This public acceptance was still new to him. They shared a deep, slow kiss – a promise for later. Their arms stretched to maintain contact as he stepped towards the grate. Their eyes remained locked as the guards lowered him into the Pit.

Then, he was alone. Naked. With an insane killer.

As his feet touched the cold floor, Draxton locked away his emotions. He was a soldier. He had a job to do, a duty. Not for an uncaring superior or an increasingly power-hungry galactic political force, but for a beautiful Seshinaar male who showed him the possibility of forever.

He tugged on the rope but didn’t watch it retreat through the opening. He heard rather than saw the grate fall into place. His eyes were locked on the narakir. He followed its every move as it danced around the tiny cell and a pattern emerged. The creature made three more journeys around the cell confirming his assumption.

Draxton remained silent and appeared relaxed as he watched the narakir, yet every muscle quivered with tension. When the creature turned a corner and leapt towards him, he was ready. He sidestepped the tackle and wrapped his arm around the creature’s neck. Stepping behind him, he locked in the hold by grabbing his wrist and applying pressure. His guard remained up; this was too easy.

“How romantic. We’re alone, naked, and cuddling.” A swift kick to the back of the narakir’s knee sent him sprawling to the ground. Draxton followed and sat on the creature’s back as its struggles grew weaker. “I’ll play the game, though, and get to know you first. So, let’s chat. Tell me all about yourself.”

“The Cycle ends, a new one begins.” The narakir’s voice hissed like a pneumatic cargo lift. “The land demands its king. The Circle knows whose power grows. They planned everything.”

Draxton’s Destiny – The Narakir

I am so happy. I actually finished this one on time for once. Which is not to say that it all came easy. There were a lot of changes made to the piece, a lot of things added, deleted, re-added, deleted again. Finally, I set it aside for a day until I knew where I wanted it to go. It flowed pretty easily from there.

This week’s prompt was an image of a crypt or prison cell. It came at a perfect time in my story, though it was picked ages ago, and I hope the others don’t struggle with it too much. Please check out Night Tempest‘s blog for her Great Mage flash serial along with links to all the other participants. If you’d like to jump in and join the fun, contact her or me and you’ll be brought into the flashy loop. We’d like to see more stories (and no, they don’t have to be M/M, SciFi, fantasy, or even paranormal – nor do you have to write them in serial format)! Also, if you’re not reading Night’s Second City series on her blog, well, I can’t know you. Sorry.

The Pit

Previous chapters (in order):

Brixys
The Gift
Decisions
Under Attack
The Traitor
Beware the Hydra
The Temple of Zarik’shaa
Elements of Truth

******

As the platform approached Minshaar, Draxton watched their plans dissolve. Fieryl paced the dock with his ears pinned to his head. His tail swished as he hissed at anyone who wandered too close. He growled as they locked onto the dais. His golden glare raised the hairs on Draxton’s arms and put him on instant alert.

“What’s happened, Fieryl?” Kasseus jumped from the platform before it fully settled. Draxton landed a moment later.

“It’s the narakir, My Minshaari.” His ear twitched as the guards who had accompanied the couple arrived at the docks. “I’d rather not discuss it here.”

Kasseus arched a brow, but motioned for him to lead the way. “As you wish.”

The feline led them away from the public area. Draxton studied the new wing as they wound their way down the twisting corridors and into a spacious, yet Spartan room. A long table with seating for thirty filled the area. A frame displayed an ancient map of Minshaar on one wall, a virtual map receiving real-time data dominated another. The third contained vidscreens with feeds from various parts of the village, including the holding cells. The narakir danced around its bare, cold prison, muttering and giggling in its sing-song voice.

The soldier approached the vidscreens, shocked at the severity of the cell. It was little more than a rectangular room carved from stone. Stone and dirt covered the floor. Moss grew on the slick, damp walls. The sun provided the only light through a narrow window high above the floor. Ancient texts from Old Earth described similar prisons. His team often encountered creatures held in collapsed caverns or trapped in pits, but never upon a civilized planet. Until now.

“I’ve questioned it about its involvement in the attack, but it refuses to talk to anyone except Sgt. Larimore.”

“Me?” Draxton dragged his eyes away from the deranged creature. “What does he think I’ll do for him? He burned the hell out of me last time we got together for a chat.”

“You tell me, human.” The rakshasa crossed his arms over his furred chest and glared.

“How the hell should I know? He doesn’t exactly look in his right mind.”

“It specifically asked for you. By name. It chanted it over and over until I left its cell.” Fieryl stalked forward, ears and tail twitching. “How does it know your name, human? Does it think you’ll help it escape, or does it already know this?”

“I don’t like what you’re implying, cat.”

“You arrive under the most suspicious of circumstances and weasel your way into the Minshaari’s trust and affection within days of an important meeting of the Circle. You’ve admitted that Brixys’ intent was for you to act as his assassin, and we have only your word that you refused.” Fieryl’s tail puffed as his growl lowered in pitch yet increased in volume. “Now this crushá calls you by name and wants to speak to only you. Yes, I’m suspicious of you. It is my duty to protect my adopted home, my friends, and my Minshaari.”

“Brixys may be a hate-filled sack of shit, but that doesn’t make him stupid. He knew exactly what to say and do to get under your skin.” Draxton’s expression shuttered, revealing nothing of the turmoil inside him. He didn’t dare glance towards the Minshaari. He didn’t want confirmation that the beautiful Seshinaar shared his friend’s suspicions. “If this narakir is working for that bastard, it stands to reason he would know my name. Brixys coached him well to get exactly this type of reaction from you. The way to bring down any organization is to sow dissent from within.”

“Which makes you the perfect weapon.”

“Enough, Fieryl.” Authority saturated the Minshaari’s tone and demanded instant obedience. The rakshasa’s growls tapered away with a final hiss as Kasseus moved across the room to stand between the two. Draxton met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and pleading. “Draxton?”

“The cat is correct in that it’s the most logical and reasonable conclusion given the circumstances and the evidence.” His hands clenched and unclenched as he forced the confession past his lips. “If the situation was reversed, it’s what I would think.”

Kasseus muttered a curse in his lilting language. “Don’t you trust me at all?”

“Strangely, I do.” Some of the tension eased from Draxton’s shoulders, and he rubbed the back of his neck with a shaking hand. “We have known each other for such a short time, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. I felt it that first day, when Brixys paraded me before you like a sentient pleasure bot. There was a connection, there. Call it romantic nonsense or the gut feeling of a combat vet, but I know what I felt and still feel. I do trust you. The cat has every reason to suspect me. You have every reason to. But I swear to you, Kasseus, I’m not working for Brixys.”

The Seshinaar leaned forward and captured his lips in a heated kiss, deep and possessive. Draxton’s desire, on a slow burn since his last taste of his lover, flared to life at the first touch of Kasseus’ tongue. He chased the gorgeous male’s lips with a groan as he broke the kiss.

“I didn’t think you were,” Kasseus murmured against his lips between gentle nips and teasing licks.

Draxton was shocked at how much this man’s good opinion meant to him. He was a soldier used to transferring every cycle. Forming attachments created a weakness that an enemy could exploit. He took lovers; he did not enter into relationships. Yet, when he looked into Kasseus’ eyes, he saw more than the lust that remained on a constant simmer. He saw tomorrow. He saw the leaves changing from green to brown. He saw forever. It excited as much as it terrified him.

“It’s true then.” The rakshasa smirked as the couple reluctantly parted. “He really is your azyrha.”

“Yes, my friend.” Draxton stared down at their joined hands. Such public displays were frowned upon within the Legion. Few of his mates admitted that they found relief with other men. Even fewer accepted they were genuinely attracted to them. He fought the urge to pull his hand away even as he wanted to pull him closer. “We spent the morning at the Temple of Zarik’shaa. The Land recognized and accepted him.”

“Then, let me be the first to offer you my sincere congratulations, my Minshaari.” Fieryl offered them both a deep bow. As he straightened, his golden eyes locked with Draxton’s and his voice deepened to a growl. “Harm him in any way, human – physically, mentally, or emotionally – and I will take great delight in skinning the flesh from your body layer by layer as you beg for mercy.”

“Fieryl!”

“Kasseus, it’s okay. I understand where he’s coming from and agree.” Draxton brought their joined hands to his lips. “After we deal with the narakir, though, you’ve got to explain exactly what an azyrha is. I’m getting the idea it’s a bit more involved than just being a boyfriend.”

“We have many things to discuss, yes.” The Minshaari sighed and released his hand. As he approached the vidscreens, his expression hardened. “How much do you know of the narakir?”

“Not a damn thing. Only the elite troops ventured beyond the Rim. I was just a grunt.”

“Hardly.” Kasseus gave him a slow appraisal from head to toe. Draxton nearly melted on the spot at the heat in those emerald eyes when they locked with his. “You aren’t “just” anything, Draxton Larimore. As for the narakir, they are as infamous for their insanity as for their cunning. They are cheerfully psychotic, take great delight in inflicting pain on their victims, and will serve any master who gives them free reign to indulge in their murderous hobbies. In ancient times, they were called demons. Some religions called them elementals, for they’re tied one of the five basic elements of Seshinaar: fire, water, soil, air, and muykeesh.”

“Yeah, I remember how connected he is to fire.”

“Which is why it’s in the Pit. Cold, damp, and filled with stone that crumbles instead of sparks, this cell prevents the narakir from connecting to its element and regaining its strength.”

“You keep calling him “it.” Are they truly genderless or is that just a dig?”

Fieryl tapped a few times on one of the vidscreens and pulled up a complete breakdown of the narakir race. “From the few bodies we’ve retrieved after attacks, Seshinaar Law recognizes them as scientifically androgynous. Their mating rituals and reproduction are shrouded in mystery even after centuries of study. The narakir have massacred hundreds of research teams foolish enough to venture into their territory to study them.”

“Fascinating.” Draxton approached the screen and watched the featureless being cavort around the barren cell. “You said you needed answers, but it refuses to talk to anyone but me? Very well, tell me what I need to know to survive this interview.”

*****

The Pit was appropriately named. It was set deep into the ground on the forest floor into an old dried-up lake bed. Kasseus thought it was originally a storeroom from before the breaking of the monarchy, converted into a prison during the ensuing wars. A large grate covered the small opening at the top was its only entrance. Fieryl offered him a few last minute tips as he removed and set aside his clothing. Metal could cause a disastrous spark. Any material could build a static charge. He even buzzed his hair shorter than a recruit’s at boot camp.

The Minshaari scowled as he approached. He had protested Draxton actually going into the Pit. They tried to conduct the interview from above, but the narakir refused to yell up to the opening. With less than twenty-four hours until the Circle gathered, time was running out to gather all the evidence against Brixys. The slave bands had revealed much, but a confession from one of his assassins would sway even those most loyal to the neighboring chief. Draxton stiffened when Kasseus embraced him in front of his guards. This public acceptance was still new to him. They shared a deep, slow kiss – a promise for later. Their arms stretched to maintain contact as he stepped towards the grate. Their eyes remained locked as the guards lowered him into the Pit.

Then, he was alone. Naked. With an insane killer.

As his feet touched the cold floor, Draxton locked away his emotions. He was a soldier. He had a job to do, a duty. Not for an uncaring superior or an increasingly power-hungry galactic political force, but for a beautiful Seshinaar male who showed him the possibility of forever.

He tugged on the rope but didn’t watch it retreat through the opening. He heard rather than saw the grate fall into place. His eyes were locked on the narakir. He followed its every move as it danced around the tiny cell and a pattern emerged. The creature made three more journeys around the cell confirming his assumption.

Draxton remained silent and appeared relaxed as he watched the narakir, yet every muscle quivered with tension. When the creature turned a corner and leapt towards him, he was ready. He sidestepped the tackle and wrapped his arm around the creature’s neck. Stepping behind him, he locked in the hold by grabbing his wrist and applying pressure. His guard remained up; this was too easy.

“How romantic. We’re alone, naked, and cuddling.” A swift kick to the back of the narakir’s knee sent him sprawling to the ground. Draxton followed and sat on the creature’s back as its struggles grew weaker. “I’ll play the game, though, and get to know you first. So, let’s chat. Tell me all about yourself.”

“The Cycle ends, a new one begins.” The narakir’s voice hissed like a pneumatic cargo lift. “The land demands its king. The Circle knows whose power grows. They planned everything.”

Draxton’s Destiny (08) – Elements of Truth

Howdy folks! Lookit! I’m actually fairly early this week on my flash fiction piece! Yes, that’s far too many exclamation marks for one introduction. I need an intervention.

This week’s chapter continues Draxton and the Minshaari’s story and is once more not recommended for the under 18 crowd. My guys are enjoying their time in the temple a bit too much, if that’s possible. So, if you click the ‘continue’ button, you agree that you aren’t going to throw a snippy hissy fit because you read naughty things centered around two men exploring a new relationship.

Today’s prompt dealt with an adjusted list of the elements, because I’m crazy that way. Fire, Air, Water, and Earth welcomed Time and Magic into their clubhouse. For my chapter, I chose mostly Earth – though I changed it to ‘soil’ since they’re on Seshinaar – but mention a bit of all of them. I managed to come in at an even 2000 words and it was fairly painless. Hurrah!

Please check out Night Tempest‘s blog, her Flash story, The Great Mage, her vamp stories, drool over Knox (I’m allowed a favorite!), then read up on the other participant’s entries.

Previous chapters (in order):

Brixys
The Gift
Decisions
Under Attack
The Traitor
Beware the Hydra
The Temple of Zarik’shaa

******

The sun marched a steady path across the sky as the new couple lounged in the ruined temple. The Seshinaar rested upon a pillow of moss and fragrant flowers created by his muykeesh. Draxton lay on his side running his fingers along the male’s slim but defined chest.

“When is this meeting that Brixys feels is so important?”

“The Circle?” Draxton’s hand smoothed over Kasseus’ stomach to encircle his semi-erect shaft. He smirked at his indrawn breath and faint moan. “Yessss, harder.”

“The date, Minshaari.”

“Tomorrow… cruel man expecting me to talk.” His hips rose off the grass with every stroke. Draxton delighted in the feel of the smooth skin over the rock-hard shaft, the pearly bead of moisture that pooled at the tip. Licking his lips, he smeared the slick drop over the smooth head then brought his finger to his lips.

“Self-discipline is a mark of a seasoned warrior and excellent leader.” Draxton knelt between Kasseus’ thighs, holding his legs open with his knees. He caressed the male’s thighs, marveling at his smooth skin. The Seshinaar possessed no body hair beyond his gorgeous green-streaked locks. It made his cock appear longer than its already impressive length, but also more vulnerable. He leaned forward to get his first taste of his lover and murmured against the satiny skin. “Tell me about the Circle.”

“The Circle consists of the chiefs of the twelve major tribes, plus a member of the former ruling house to provide the definitive vote in case of a tie. They oversee the governing of Seshinaar and –” His words dissolved into a gasping moan as Draxton eased his lips down the hard shaft. The solder gripped the male’s toned thighs, keeping Kasseus from bucking him off. He looked up, catching his lover’s startling green eyes. The challenge was clear. “Draxton, gods!”

Fingers scrambled for a grip in his cropped hair, urging him to take the thick cock deep in his throat. He fought their pull, their strength, and his own desire in order to draw out his lover’s torment.

“Tell me, or I stop.”

Kasseus released a stream of Seshinaar curses as Draxton resumed licking and teasing the head of his cock. “Evil, cruel, wonderful man. The Circle – please, gods, more! – decides Planetary Law which applies to every tribe. They dictate the punishments for atrocities like torture, which you seem to be quite skilled at; murder, you’re killing me here; and tribal warfare.”

Draxton chuckled around the throbbing shaft in his mouth, drawing another pleasure-filled moan from the beautiful man. He released him from his mouth with a pop and kissed and nipped his way to his tight balls. “Minshaar doesn’t seem that big. Is that why the others object to your being included?” He waited until the Seshinaar opened his mouth to reply, and then sucked a smooth testicle into his mouth. The man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a shudder ran the length of his body.

“N-No.” Vines sprouted from the ground beneath his fingers, bursting into bloom with a rainbow of colorful flowers. Draxton wrapped his arms around Kasseus’ thighs to hold them open and pin his quivering legs to the ground. He ran his tongue over the seam between the two fragile globes, then up his shaft to swirl around the sensitive rim. “Minshaar has a – oh, please don’t stop – a permanent seat on the Circle. We are the descendants of the ruling house.”

“Your family were once kings?” The twitching cock fell from his gaping mouth. No wonder the man seemed regal, he fucking was!

“Yes, but that was centuries ago. Now for the love of all that is holy, finish what you started!”

“This is why Brixys hates you. His family were nobles but not in the direct line to rule.”

“That and I’ve been trying to stop many of our more barbaric practices like forcing our people to become concubines, slavery, and teasing men with a wicked mouth then leaving them hanging.”

Draxton grinned and pinched the male’s ass. “Maybe I should stop, then? I wouldn’t want to run afoul of the Minshaari.”

“Stop and I’ll hunt you down and chain you to my bed.”

“I’m not seeing the bad side of that.” He slid his mouth over the smooth skin and ran his tongue up the thick vein. With each bob of his head, he took it deeper, sucked harder, and had to put his weight into holding the male’s legs in place. Plants sprouted in a ring around them, drawing the tinkling prism wings to add to echoes of Kasseus’ moans.

Taking a deep breath, he swallowed the spongy head and held him in his throat. He missed burying his nose in a bed of coarse curls, but groaned at the exquisite feel of his lover. Kasseus filled him like no other. Thick, long, and delectable, the male’s cock deserved hours of worship. He pulled back with a gasp, scraping his teeth lightly over the smooth dome.

“You’re delicious, you know that?” Draxton caught of pearl of clear fluid on his tongue and hummed. “Salty, sweet, but with a hint of earthy spice. Unique. Like you.” Kasseus simply moaned as he took that gorgeous cock back into his mouth.

He stared into his lover’s eyes as he established a smooth, but swift rhythm. How he loved the slide of a thick cock in his mouth! The way every ridge and vein gave texture to the smooth perfection of the silky shaft. The scent of a man’s musk as his nose bumps against his groin. The taste that teased his tongue and left him begging for more. Yes, he loved a nice cock, but this one demanded more. This amazing cock that filled his throat and stretched his mouth until his jaw ached demanded nothing less than worship. He was a very willing supplicant.

Draxton hummed in pleasure as his lover’s cock thickened in his mouth. Kasseus stuttered a warning, pushing at his head in the foolish belief he would give up his erotic prize. As the moans became disjointed gasps, Draxton swallowed his throbbing cock until his nose pressed against smooth skin. The constriction sent Kasseus over the edge. With a strangled shout, and a sudden profusion of blooming plants in the ruined temple, the Seshinaar pumped his mouth and throat full of his warm, spicy seed.

“Hmm.” Draxton crawled up Kasseus’ body to press a heated kiss to his lips. The Seshinaar released his grip upon the dirt and grass to hold him tightly to his chest. The vines followed his unspoken command, binding the two together. “If that vine crawls up my ass, Minshaari, I’m kicking yours all over this temple.”

“What?”

Chuckling, the former sergeant smoothed Kasseus’ damp hair from his face and brushed another kiss across his lips. The Seshinaar chief’s hair lay tangled in the waving grass, the greens and browns blending beautifully with the local flora. His skin was still flushed from his orgasm, his eyes half-closed with sated lassitude. Cool fingers traced along Draxton’s back, running up and down the length of his spine. The vines advanced and retreated to avoid his touch, adding a strange but interesting sensation to their embrace. He rested his arm on his lover’s chest and propped his chin on his fist. Damn, but he was beautiful!

“Your sorcery – what did Fieryl call it? muykeesh? – yeah, your muykeesh is working overtime. You’ve managed to create some rather grabby vines that are getting a little too touchy-feely for me.”

The Minshaari looked over his shoulder then laid his head back with a groan. With a wave of his hand, the vines retreated. Draxton released a curse as one tickled his balls on the way by.

“My apologies, Drax. I’m not usually so careless.”

Draxton shrugged and rolled to the side. Propping on his elbow, he drank in the site of his sated lover. Much better view. “I just didn’t want to get felt up by a leafy creeper.” He swooped in and stole a quick kiss, nipping at the plump lips that tried to capture his own. “How does that work, anyway? Humans have myths about magic, but that’s it.”

“Seshinaar ‘magic,’ as you call it, is tied to the four elements – Fire, Air, Water, and Soil. As a member of the former royal family, my muykeesh is tied to the land. We thrive together and suffer together. It’s why Brixys arranged an off-world buyer for my enslavement. He thought it would weaken me as well as Minshaar.”

“Let me guess. He hoped to claim the land while you were gone.” Draxton snorted and shook his head. “I take it he underestimated you?”

“He underestimated many things.” Kasseus rose and brushed away the grass and leaves. Draxton admired the play of sinuous muscle under satiny skin as he roamed the clearing and gathered their clothing. “The strength of my ties to the land, the loyalty of my people, and yes, he underestimated me. He didn’t know it works, that distance only weakens the bond. It doesn’t sever it. When the land itself rose up to oppose him, I hear he got a rather rude awakening.”

“Doesn’t he have magic of his own?”

“To an extent, all Seshinaar have ties to a certain element. Training, natural ability, and dedication guide them as to the strength of their muykeesh. Brixys may have natural ability, as a distant relative of the royal family, but he refused to train under a ‘peasant.’ He’s always been an arrogant fool, but his insult to the masters of the elements was never forgotten.”

“Which brings us back to the Circle.” Draxton scowled at the clothes dumped on his stomach. He would much prefer to remain as he was – naked and ready to indulge in the delights of his gorgeous companion. “When he was getting me all whored up for our visit to Minshaar, Brixys offered me freedom in exchange for your assassination. If the land has rejected him once, why does he think it would accept him this time?”

“If we retained a monarchy as in the early days of Seshinaar, he would be next in line to rule. I have no children, no brothers or sisters. The former royal family has all but died out, leaving just myself and Brixys. The land would have little choice but to accept him or perish.”

“Result – He merges his tribe with yours and expands his territory.” Draxton glared at the soggy boot in his hand. He scooped out a small golden fish and tossed it back in the pond with a sigh. “The Circle wouldn’t be suspicious that a slave he gifted to you killed his main opponent? Are they really that stupid or are they that corrupt?”

“We both have our allies within the Circle.” Kasseus twined their fingers together as he led the way back to the transport platform. “All know of my power. Many fear I’ll reestablish the monarchy, rendering them powerless. Several are vehemently opposed to my radical idea that all our people deserve dignity and freedom of choice. And a few find my sexual preferences abhorrent.”

“Politics are the same, no matter the planet or the galaxy.” His boot squished as he walked, a somewhat uncomfortable reminder of their earlier joy. The Minshaari held him close to his side as they rode the platform. The lurking guards grinned and saluted as they passed. “Brixys will keep trying until one of you is either dead or discredited before the Circle. Since today has been all about choices, I know which one I’d choose, but we need a plan.”

“That we do. Fieryl can join us after dinner. He’s as canny as any feline and should have deconstructed the code implanted in the bands.”

“Dinner’s hours away.” Draxton turned to wrap his arms around the slender Seshinaar. He cupped his ass and pulled him flush against his erection. “What shall we do until then?”

“What, indeed?”

Draxton’s Destiny – Elements of Truth

Howdy folks! Lookit! I’m actually fairly early this week on my flash fiction piece! Yes, that’s far too many exclamation marks for one introduction. I need an intervention.

This week’s chapter continues Draxton and the Minshaari’s story and is once more not recommended for the under 18 crowd. My guys are enjoying their time in the temple a bit too much, if that’s possible. So, if you click the ‘continue’ button, you agree that you aren’t going to throw a snippy hissy fit because you read naughty things centered around two men exploring a new relationship.

Today’s prompt dealt with an adjusted list of the elements, because I’m crazy that way. Fire, Air, Water, and Earth welcomed Time and Magic into their clubhouse. For my chapter, I chose mostly Earth – though I changed it to ‘soil’ since they’re on Seshinaar – but mention a bit of all of them. I managed to come in at an even 2000 words and it was fairly painless. Hurrah!

Please check out Night Tempest‘s blog, her Flash story, The Great Mage, her vamp stories, drool over Knox (I’m allowed a favorite!), then read up on the other participant’s entries.

Previous chapters (in order):

Brixys
The Gift
Decisions
Under Attack
The Traitor
Beware the Hydra
The Temple of Zarik’shaa

******

The sun marched a steady path across the sky as the new couple lounged in the ruined temple. The Seshinaar rested upon a pillow of moss and fragrant flowers created by his muykeesh. Draxton lay on his side running his fingers along the male’s slim but defined chest.

“When is this meeting that Brixys feels is so important?”

“The Circle?” Draxton’s hand smoothed over Kasseus’ stomach to encircle his semi-erect shaft. He smirked at his indrawn breath and faint moan. “Yessss, harder.”

“The date, Minshaari.”

“Tomorrow… cruel man expecting me to talk.” His hips rose off the grass with every stroke. Draxton delighted in the feel of the smooth skin over the rock-hard shaft, the pearly bead of moisture that pooled at the tip. Licking his lips, he smeared the slick drop over the smooth head then brought his finger to his lips.

“Self-discipline is a mark of a seasoned warrior and excellent leader.” Draxton knelt between Kasseus’ thighs, holding his legs open with his knees. He caressed the male’s thighs, marveling at his smooth skin. The Seshinaar possessed no body hair beyond his gorgeous green-streaked locks. It made his cock appear longer than its already impressive length, but also more vulnerable. He leaned forward to get his first taste of his lover and murmured against the satiny skin. “Tell me about the Circle.”

“The Circle consists of the chiefs of the twelve major tribes, plus a member of the former ruling house to provide the definitive vote in case of a tie. They oversee the governing of Seshinaar and –” His words dissolved into a gasping moan as Draxton eased his lips down the hard shaft. The solder gripped the male’s toned thighs, keeping Kasseus from bucking him off. He looked up, catching his lover’s startling green eyes. The challenge was clear. “Draxton, gods!”

Fingers scrambled for a grip in his cropped hair, urging him to take the thick cock deep in his throat. He fought their pull, their strength, and his own desire in order to draw out his lover’s torment.

“Tell me, or I stop.”

Kasseus released a stream of Seshinaar curses as Draxton resumed licking and teasing the head of his cock. “Evil, cruel, wonderful man. The Circle – please, gods, more! – decides Planetary Law which applies to every tribe. They dictate the punishments for atrocities like torture, which you seem to be quite skilled at; murder, you’re killing me here; and tribal warfare.”

Draxton chuckled around the throbbing shaft in his mouth, drawing another pleasure-filled moan from the beautiful man. He released him from his mouth with a pop and kissed and nipped his way to his tight balls. “Minshaar doesn’t seem that big. Is that why the others object to your being included?” He waited until the Seshinaar opened his mouth to reply, and then sucked a smooth testicle into his mouth. The man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a shudder ran the length of his body.

“N-No.” Vines sprouted from the ground beneath his fingers, bursting into bloom with a rainbow of colorful flowers. Draxton wrapped his arms around Kasseus’ thighs to hold them open and pin his quivering legs to the ground. He ran his tongue over the seam between the two fragile globes, then up his shaft to swirl around the sensitive rim. “Minshaar has a – oh, please don’t stop – a permanent seat on the Circle. We are the descendants of the ruling house.”

“Your family were once kings?” The twitching cock fell from his gaping mouth. No wonder the man seemed regal, he fucking was!

“Yes, but that was centuries ago. Now for the love of all that is holy, finish what you started!”

“This is why Brixys hates you. His family were nobles but not in the direct line to rule.”

“That and I’ve been trying to stop many of our more barbaric practices like forcing our people to become concubines, slavery, and teasing men with a wicked mouth then leaving them hanging.”

Draxton grinned and pinched the male’s ass. “Maybe I should stop, then? I wouldn’t want to run afoul of the Minshaari.”

“Stop and I’ll hunt you down and chain you to my bed.”

“I’m not seeing the bad side of that.” He slid his mouth over the smooth skin and ran his tongue up the thick vein. With each bob of his head, he took it deeper, sucked harder, and had to put his weight into holding the male’s legs in place. Plants sprouted in a ring around them, drawing the tinkling prism wings to add to echoes of Kasseus’ moans.

Taking a deep breath, he swallowed the spongy head and held him in his throat. He missed burying his nose in a bed of coarse curls, but groaned at the exquisite feel of his lover. Kasseus filled him like no other. Thick, long, and delectable, the male’s cock deserved hours of worship. He pulled back with a gasp, scraping his teeth lightly over the smooth dome.

“You’re delicious, you know that?” Draxton caught of pearl of clear fluid on his tongue and hummed. “Salty, sweet, but with a hint of earthy spice. Unique. Like you.” Kasseus simply moaned as he took that gorgeous cock back into his mouth.

He stared into his lover’s eyes as he established a smooth, but swift rhythm. How he loved the slide of a thick cock in his mouth! The way every ridge and vein gave texture to the smooth perfection of the silky shaft. The scent of a man’s musk as his nose bumps against his groin. The taste that teased his tongue and left him begging for more. Yes, he loved a nice cock, but this one demanded more. This amazing cock that filled his throat and stretched his mouth until his jaw ached demanded nothing less than worship. He was a very willing supplicant.

Draxton hummed in pleasure as his lover’s cock thickened in his mouth. Kasseus stuttered a warning, pushing at his head in the foolish belief he would give up his erotic prize. As the moans became disjointed gasps, Draxton swallowed his throbbing cock until his nose pressed against smooth skin. The constriction sent Kasseus over the edge. With a strangled shout, and a sudden profusion of blooming plants in the ruined temple, the Seshinaar pumped his mouth and throat full of his warm, spicy seed.

“Hmm.” Draxton crawled up Kasseus’ body to press a heated kiss to his lips. The Seshinaar released his grip upon the dirt and grass to hold him tightly to his chest. The vines followed his unspoken command, binding the two together. “If that vine crawls up my ass, Minshaari, I’m kicking yours all over this temple.”

“What?”

Chuckling, the former sergeant smoothed Kasseus’ damp hair from his face and brushed another kiss across his lips. The Seshinaar chief’s hair lay tangled in the waving grass, the greens and browns blending beautifully with the local flora. His skin was still flushed from his orgasm, his eyes half-closed with sated lassitude. Cool fingers traced along Draxton’s back, running up and down the length of his spine. The vines advanced and retreated to avoid his touch, adding a strange but interesting sensation to their embrace. He rested his arm on his lover’s chest and propped his chin on his fist. Damn, but he was beautiful!

“Your sorcery – what did Fieryl call it? muykeesh? – yeah, your muykeesh is working overtime. You’ve managed to create some rather grabby vines that are getting a little too touchy-feely for me.”

The Minshaari looked over his shoulder then laid his head back with a groan. With a wave of his hand, the vines retreated. Draxton released a curse as one tickled his balls on the way by.

“My apologies, Drax. I’m not usually so careless.”

Draxton shrugged and rolled to the side. Propping on his elbow, he drank in the site of his sated lover. Much better view. “I just didn’t want to get felt up by a leafy creeper.” He swooped in and stole a quick kiss, nipping at the plump lips that tried to capture his own. “How does that work, anyway? Humans have myths about magic, but that’s it.”

“Seshinaar ‘magic,’ as you call it, is tied to the four elements – Fire, Air, Water, and Soil. As a member of the former royal family, my muykeesh is tied to the land. We thrive together and suffer together. It’s why Brixys arranged an off-world buyer for my enslavement. He thought it would weaken me as well as Minshaar.”

“Let me guess. He hoped to claim the land while you were gone.” Draxton snorted and shook his head. “I take it he underestimated you?”

“He underestimated many things.” Kasseus rose and brushed away the grass and leaves. Draxton admired the play of sinuous muscle under satiny skin as he roamed the clearing and gathered their clothing. “The strength of my ties to the land, the loyalty of my people, and yes, he underestimated me. He didn’t know it works, that distance only weakens the bond. It doesn’t sever it. When the land itself rose up to oppose him, I hear he got a rather rude awakening.”

“Doesn’t he have magic of his own?”

“To an extent, all Seshinaar have ties to a certain element. Training, natural ability, and dedication guide them as to the strength of their muykeesh. Brixys may have natural ability, as a distant relative of the royal family, but he refused to train under a ‘peasant.’ He’s always been an arrogant fool, but his insult to the masters of the elements was never forgotten.”

“Which brings us back to the Circle.” Draxton scowled at the clothes dumped on his stomach. He would much prefer to remain as he was – naked and ready to indulge in the delights of his gorgeous companion. “When he was getting me all whored up for our visit to Minshaar, Brixys offered me freedom in exchange for your assassination. If the land has rejected him once, why does he think it would accept him this time?”

“If we retained a monarchy as in the early days of Seshinaar, he would be next in line to rule. I have no children, no brothers or sisters. The former royal family has all but died out, leaving just myself and Brixys. The land would have little choice but to accept him or perish.”

“Result – He merges his tribe with yours and expands his territory.” Draxton glared at the soggy boot in his hand. He scooped out a small golden fish and tossed it back in the pond with a sigh. “The Circle wouldn’t be suspicious that a slave he gifted to you killed his main opponent? Are they really that stupid or are they that corrupt?”

“We both have our allies within the Circle.” Kasseus twined their fingers together as he led the way back to the transport platform. “All know of my power. Many fear I’ll reestablish the monarchy, rendering them powerless. Several are vehemently opposed to my radical idea that all our people deserve dignity and freedom of choice. And a few find my sexual preferences abhorrent.”

“Politics are the same, no matter the planet or the galaxy.” His boot squished as he walked, a somewhat uncomfortable reminder of their earlier joy. The Minshaari held him close to his side as they rode the platform. The lurking guards grinned and saluted as they passed. “Brixys will keep trying until one of you is either dead or discredited before the Circle. Since today has been all about choices, I know which one I’d choose, but we need a plan.”

“That we do. Fieryl can join us after dinner. He’s as canny as any feline and should have deconstructed the code implanted in the bands.”

“Dinner’s hours away.” Draxton turned to wrap his arms around the slender Seshinaar. He cupped his ass and pulled him flush against his erection. “What shall we do until then?”

“What, indeed?”

Draxton’s Destiny – The Temple of Zarik’shaa

It’s late, I know, but better late than never, right? I’ve been doing my damnedest to keep up with my NaNo wordcount and kept putting this week’s flash entry aside until later. Then I realized it was Thursday and I still had nothing but a blank word doc. I started the story but real life happened, so here I am finishing up and posting with only fifteen minutes of Friday remaining (in my time zone at least).

Things heat up this week, so remember the rule – if you’re not 18, don’t go any further.

This week’s prompt was a simple one:

Ancient Ruins – Use a set of ruins (fictional or a real location) as a key location in your chapter/story.

The prompt was much easier than carving out time to write the darn chapter! As always, check in with Night Tempest, who was finished far earlier than I, to see how things are faring for Aneris and Seth and get the links to the other players in the flash fiction game.

Previous chapters (in order):

Brixys
The Gift
Decisions
Under Attack
The Traitor
Beware the Hydra

******

“I’ve figured it out.” Draxton swatted at a sanguire fly before it could attach to his arm. The blasted pests had drained him of at least a pint of blood already and still swarmed around like a bunch of miniscule vampires.

“Dare I ask what, sergeant?”

He scowled at the amusement in his companion’s voice. The beautiful male appeared invisible to the blood-sucking insects, thus directing all their hunger towards him. “At first I thought my punishment was this death march across the tallest damn trees on Seshinaar. I’ve now concluded that there are many more layers to your scheme than I originally believed. Should I fail to slip off one of these treacherously narrow branches and fall to my death, you’ve sent the tiniest of your villagers to drain me of my blood.”

“The sanguire are quite persistent, aren’t they?” The Minshaari jogged across a branch barely as wide as the sergeant’s forearm, grabbed a thick vine, and swung across to the next tree.

“You think?” He gauged the distance between the two trees. Ten Alliance meters. Taking a deep breath to regain his focus, Draxton planted only two feet on the thin branch, leapt for a vine, and landed next to the Minshaari with a thud. “It’s the only explanation for both this obstacle course and why they aren’t draining you dry.”

“And here I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“It is beautiful. The last time I went to a planet as green as this one, my orders didn’t include admiring the flora, fauna, or natives.”

“Might I ask what your orders were?”

Draxton considered his answer as they worked their way towards a nearby dock created by woven branches and cushioned by thick green leaves. The sunlight filtering through the forest’s canopy brought out the green highlights in the Minshaari’s hair. It fell in loose waves down his back with only a pair of braids keeping it from falling into his eyes. He had dressed simply for the outing, wearing nothing but a pair of soft soled boots, breeches, and a loose shirt.

The male was simply mouth-watering. The stretchy material of his breeches hugged his body like a lover. From behind, he was treated to an amazing display of flexing muscles in the Minshaari’s firm ass and thick thighs. But it was the front view that made his mouth water and his cock stand at attention. The cloth did little to conceal the Seshinaar’s half-hard manhood as it molded itself all along the impressive length. A damp spot glistened in the dappled light, proof that Draxton wasn’t the only one affected by the other’s nearness. Still, the soldier’s keen eye detected the pair of daggers hidden in the boots and a pulse pistol in a holster at the small of his back. Beautiful and deadly. A sexy, potent combination.

They stepped onto a standard transport platform tethered to the dock. As he leaned against the rail, he wondered what his companion would say if he pulled down those clingy breeches and got a taste of his beautiful cock. His own throbbed in enthusiastic agreement as the Minshaari typed in the required codes. Best to not think about that now. He turned away from the beautiful male and gripped the safety bar as the platform began its descent.

“You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not.” The Minshaari joined him at the rail. Leaning against it, his hair flowed over the side, his shirt gaped open to bare his smooth chest, and his hips thrust forward placing that delectable cock into prominence.

“What?” Draxton croaked, his eyes fixated on the beauty before him. All moisture fled his mouth as more than just the glistening spot grew. “Oh. Yes. Orders. I was sent to Kandaria to retrieve Alliance… property. The property in question was adamantly opposed to the idea. My failure on that mission is what landed me in the slave pens.”

“Your own people sold you to the slavers because you failed one mission?”

“They wanted to make a statement. The entire unit suffered – some were booted from service, some reduced in rank, others spent time in the brig. I was the NCOIC, so my punishment was worse than the others.”

They stepped off the platform after it settled onto the forest floor. The Minshaari led the way through the underbrush towards a crumbling ruin. “If the item was so important, perhaps the Alliance should have guarded it better?”

“Oh they did, but they failed to realize just how successful their experiment had been. Subject 5691 killed a scientist and two genetically modified guards so quickly they didn’t have time to raise an alarm. He managed to travel down seventeen floors, clear three checkpoints, enter the space docks, and gain passage off the station with little resistance.”

“What kind of experiment were they conducting on the poor man?”

“He was the experiment. A completely engineered being, created from DNA. It worked a bit too well; he ended up developing free will, thus his escape.”

The Minshaari’s hands glowed with an emerald light. The vines snaking along an ancient stone wall quivered, then slithered aside to reveal an intricately etched archway. Beyond, a field of wildflowers gently swayed in the breeze. “You don’t seem terribly disappointed.”

“What they did was against every regulation and treaty the Alliance has with other galaxies. Cyborgs and androids are one thing, playing God with sentient beings is another.” Draxton scanned the forest canopy with the recent attack still fresh in his mind. The discreet presence of the Minshaari’s guards settled his nerves enough to step through the arch. “Besides, I saw a vid of him in combat. I wasn’t looking forward to squaring off against him.”

The air was cooler within the ruined building. Above the ruin, a break in the dense canopy of limbs and leaves allowed plenty of sunlight to guide their steps. The ancient walls lay in crumbling piles of stone and encroaching vines. A massive tree trunk obscured one corner, and fish swam in a small pond that broke through another. Delicate prismwings fluttered from flower to flower, their crystalline wings casting rainbows of refracted light onto the ground. It was a peaceful and beautiful picture. It was almost as breathtaking as the sexy Seshinaar male that stood by his side.

“What is this place?” His muted whisper disturbed a handful of the brilliantly colored prismwings. Their fluttering sounded like fragile wind chimes as they avoided his approach.

“The Holy Temple of Zarik’shaa.” The Minshaari picked his way into the center of the ruin. The prismwings scattered then slowly returned to perch upon his shoulders and hair. “Centuries ago, before the Seshinaar splintered into feuding tribes and took to the trees, great cities covered much of the forest floor. There were trading ports, cultural centers for music and art, and grand temples to the gods. This one is my favorite. Zarik’shaa – god of endings, beginnings, and renewal.”

“Are we here for an ending or a beginning?”

“That’s up to you, sergeant. You came to my village against your will, enslaved by your own people but purchased by mine. Your superiors stripped you of your ability to choose your future. I felt this was an appropriate place to return that to you.”

Draxton approached slowly. His careful steps caused no sounds, left no trace. He didn’t like how this was going; it sounded too much like an ending before they’d even made an attempt at a beginning. He clenched his jaw, hiding his emotions behind a façade of professional courtesy. “What are my choices, Minshaari?”

“The first is an ending, of course. A shuttle will take you to Seshir 4 where a suite of rooms await your use. There, you will find a week’s worth of clothing, a credit chip that should last you at least one Alliance year, and a seat on a transport to the galaxy of your choosing.”

“I see. And the second?”

“A renewal of sorts. I offer you a place in Minshaar as a warrior for the village. It’s clear that my warriors could learn much from you and your training. They were impressed by your methods in clearing the outlying huts, and many have expressed a desire to learn more.”

“I could learn a lot from them as well. Your people use ancient weapons no longer taught by the Alliance. We learn hand to hand and small arms, but not swordplay.” He pushed aside his gut-wrenching disappointment. He wanted to lick every inch of the beautiful male, not serve him as a fighter.

“They would be pleased to demonstrate their prowess, I’m sure.” A smile teased the Minshaari’s lips as he closed the distance between them. “There is still one more option. A beginning. One without slave bands or obligations. One without political maneuverings and nighttime attacks. Just two men… and this.”

His lips were soft and cool and tasted of cinnamon and the fruity wine they drank with lunch. Draxton groaned, grabbing a fistful of his green-streaked hair to deepen the kiss. As their tongues stroked and tasted, he slid his hand over the ass that had teased him since they’d met. He kneaded the firm flesh, pressing their groins together as one kiss blended into the next, with none of it being enough. He wanted this male with a fervor that shocked him.

“Can I get another of those?” He captured the Minshaari’s plump lip between his teeth as he explored the male’s body. He was about three seconds from making a mess in his trousers but didn’t much care. “I need to thoroughly explore all of my options.”

“I always encourage my people to explore new things,” the Minshaari murmured against his lips.

“Good plan.”

Draxton’s heart pounded like he’d double-timed a twenty kilometer march carrying an eighty kilo ruck. He reclaimed the male’s lips, fixing his taste on this tongue. He explored every inch of his mouth before wrenching his lips away to lay a hot, moist trail down the Minshaari’s neck. He nipped at where his neck met his shoulder; he nudged aside the loose shirt to lap at each hard nipple.

As they sank to their knees in the grass, they tossed aside their clothing. Shirts flew into tree limbs. A boot landed in the pond. A pair of breeches trapped an unwary prismwing who fought its way free. He moaned as their bodies met for the first time, flesh to flesh.

Pleasure shot along his nerves. It traveled from his weeping cock, down to his curled toes, then all the way back up to his ravenous mouth. The intensity made him light-headed. He smoothed his hands over the Minshaari’s muscular body, listening for an indrawn breath or a whispered sigh. The sounds delighted and inflamed his lust. He wrapped his fingers around their cocks and stroked. Their moans echoed in the sheltered ruin.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Draxton sucked the Minshaari’s pulse, raising a purple bruise and marking the male as his. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Then we’ll have to try again.” The Seshinaar’s cool hand joined his around their thrusting cocks, increasing the pressure, the friction, the mind-blowing pleasure. Nails scraped down his back and over the globe of his ass. The stinging pain only added to his desire.

“True. Perfection from repetition. Lots,” he grunted as he breath caught on the first wave of his orgasm, “and lots of repetition.” He buried his face in the smooth neck of his lover as he coated their hands and chests with his come. The Minshaari followed him within seconds.

Their hands slowed as urgency gave way to sensitivity. Draxton peppered his shoulder and neck with light kisses. He ran his hand along the Minshaari’s damp skin and sighed.

“Well, sergeant? What’s the verdict?”

He felt the Seshinaar’s smile and heard it in his voice; still, he pinched his ass for even asking. “What do you think, Minshaari?”

“Good choice, Draxton.”

“I agree…Kasseus.”

Draxton’s Destiny – Beware the Hydra

Sorry for the missed week. Things have been crazy over in Night Tempest’s side of the world. Show her some love and support (and visit her site and read her stuff) while she wrestles things back to normal. I’ve been grateful for the respite since I’ve delved back into NaNoWriMo for the hectic month of November. It’ll be interesting juggling all this. Hopefully December will be a bit calmer since I’ll be focusing on editing until something is ready for publication.

This week’s prompt was a toughie and I admit to a bit of cheating. Instead of creating a new character, I simply gave the traits to an existing one. I do think it worked better this way. The prompt was as follows:

Motivation – Pick one of the five listed character motivations and create a tertiary character utilizing your choice:

This character is motivated by self-hatred and feigned love. They are unaware of at least one of these.
This character is motivated by boredom, curiosity, desire for knowledge, and twisted stubbornness.
This character is motivated by self-hatred, greed and loyalty.
This character is motivated by twisted suspicion and deep-seated idealism.
This character is motivated by overpowering desire to prove themself, duty and insanity. They are not entirely aware of all of these.

I chose the second, atrributing it to Fieryl as I thought it suited a feline character pretty well. I clocked in at just under the word count – 1994. There are some unique (read: made up by me) words in this story, as in the last. If anyone has trouble figuring out their meaning in context, let me know!

Previous chapters (in order):

Brixys
The Gift
Decisions
Under Attack
The Traitor

******

The presence of the Minshaari energized his warriors. They converged on the trio and pushed forward, breaking the attackers’ morale and sending them scurrying into the trees. Draxton took out five before they escaped the range of his stolen pulse guns. Stuffing the weapons into his pockets, he grabbed three warriors and started searching the surrounding buildings in a series of concentric rings. While the shaman set up a temporary hospital, teams of Minshaar warriors scoured the surrounding treetops for fleeing combatants.

Draxton moved from building to building, checking each for wounded, dead, or enemy soldiers. As they searched, he explained his methods to his companions. By the tenth building, they coalesced into an efficient unit. They found three enemy combatants holed up in a storage shed. The fight was brief but heated, and ended with more soldiers to question about the unprovoked attack. They called for a pick up over the comlinks, continuing their search once the others arrived.

As they moved towards the third circle of buildings, Draxton’s wrist bands emitted a series of high-pitched beeps. Night creatures rustled in the trees then fell silent as the shrill sound pierced the air. His weapons fell from numb fingers as electric shocks flooded his body. He gritted his teeth against his groans as waves of sharp agony rolled through is body. Falling to his knees, he twitched with every pulse of energy.

“Com Fieryl,” he managed to grit through his teeth, “and keep searching! Don’t let anymore of those bastards get away.” When they hesitated, he drew himself up as straight as his assaulted nerves would allow. “That’s an order, soldiers! Keep to the mission.”

The more experienced of the trio sent out the call on the comlink, stressing the urgency of the request. She moved the fallen pulse guns within the reach of Draxton’s twitching fingers and patted his shoulder. “May the Great Canopy protect you, sergeant.” Rising, she unholstered her weapon and took point. “Let’s go.”

Draxton sagged forward, holding himself upright by stubbornness and sheer force of will. His breathing hitched with each wave of energy. His heart stuttered, then raced to catch up. He’d been shocked before. Every Legionnaire went through pulse training where they learned the effects of the pistols they carried. This was like a career’s worth of training condensed into a constant slow boil of agony.

He heard footsteps on the oversized branch that bridged the gap between the village center and the third ring. Closing his hand around his pistol, he used his last reserve of strength to force his arm to obey. Sweat coated his face. The pistol wavered with each rolling shock.

“Stand down, sergeant.” The Minshaari’s supernal voice washed over him.

The nose of the pistol drooped as the shocks robbed him of his remaining strength. The beautiful Seshinaar’s face swam into focus. The illusion cast over the bracers fell away, and the chieftain tapped out the security code. Another jolt shot up his arms, dragging a groan from between gritted teeth. Draxton clamped his lips shut and clung to the pulse gun. The effort cost him dearly. Spots swam before his eyes before they fluttered shut.

“B-Bastard. I wasn’t trying to escape. I was trying to keep your people safe.”

******

Consciousness flowed over him like a morning fog and brought muted pain in its wake. He twitched with every rolling shock from the slave bands. It felt like someone had docked a cargo vessel on his chest. His head pounded and his mouth was as dry as the Minostian Desert. Muffled voices pulled him further into awareness, and he pried his eyes open in search of his tormentors.

“I’m working as quickly as possible, My Minshaari,” the rakshasa began.

“Not quickly enough!” Kasseus Minshaar slammed his fist onto the table, upsetting a glass and knocking several papers onto the floor. Fieryl hissed and mopped up the liquid before it could spread onto his notes. “The shocks are taking their toll on Sgt. Larimore’s body. If we don’t get those bands off soon, they’ll cause permanent damage to his heart and nervous system.”

“Brixys wove traps on top of traps in the coding. Dismantling one thread creates two – sometimes three – others. If I remove them out of order, they’ll trigger a cascade of programs that will do far worse than the warning shocks he’s receiving now.”

The Minshaari paced the room, rubbing his hand over his wrist. “Tell me what to do to help. Do you need assistants? Equipment?”

“Just time.”

“Time is the one thing my azyrha has little of.” When he stepped into Draxton’s line of sight, little remained of the Seshinaar’s poise and elegance. His loose shirt fluttered over the waist of his leather breeches, untucked and unlaced to the middle of his chest. The wrinkles made it look as if he’d slept in it. A loose braid held his long hair from his face, though several strands escaped to frame a face drawn with worry and lack of sleep.

“I won’t let you down, My Minshaari.”

Draxton struggled to speak through the numbness in his lips, the thickness of his tongue. All he managed was a rasping cough that seared his throat and robbed him of his fleeting strength. The Minshaari was at his side in an instant.

“Don’t try to talk, m’azyrha.” The beautiful male pressed a straw between his lips and dribbled cool juice into his mouth. He managed a few swallows before the pain grew too sharp. “I’m siphoning as much of your pain as I can until Fieryl finds a way to dismantle the bands. The alarm and shocks are part of their security measures, but they – like the locking mechanisms – aren’t responding to the release codes.”

“Hydra.” The word grated over his vocal cords like coarse sandpaper. “Program…developed by Alliance. Used for torture.”

“That’s where I’ve seen this coding structure!” There was a flurry of typing, then the oversized screen filled with several intergalactic news memos discussing the Alliance’s newest interrogation technique. “I knew it looked familiar but it’s been years…”

“Can you disable it, Fieryl?”

“It’ll be tricky, but we’ve shaved a lot of time knowing the code’s base. For some reason, the entire thing hinges on a single line of code that launches the attacks. As long as it’s active, you can’t disable the rest without creating more attacks.”

“Old Earth myth.” The juice had eased some of his throat’s discomfort, but each word rasped at his damaged throat. “Twelve labors…Hercules.”

“The myth may hold the key.” The Minshaari urged him to drink more of the cool liquid as a pale green aura covered them both. The Seshinaar’s muykeesh soothed his battered body and muffled the worst of the shocks. The drugs in the juice urged him into blessed unconsciousness. “Study this hydra and its nemesis, the slave Hercules. If the creature was but one of his punishments, surely there must be a way to defeat it.”

Though he fought the allure of sleep, his body embraced the escape from the rolling pain. When he next awoke, all but two of the vidscreens contained endless lines of code. On the remaining two, one bore an ancient drawing of the mythical hydra with its eight fanged heads, while the other listed the legend as recorded from a time that was ancient even before humans took to the skies. The rakshasa stood before the largest screen, his ears laid flat against his skull, his tail swishing from side to side as he highlighted lines of code or typed on a portable vidscreen. He consulted the text of the myth often, the illustration occasionally. Draxton succumbed to sleep to the low, rumbling growls of the feline researcher.

A triumphant roar pulled him from the endless black of dreamless sleep. “Brixys, you fecal-brained son of a rotting crushá, I have you now. You didn’t consider the tenacity of a rakshasa, did you?”

Fieryl scrolled through the sea of code, searching for the key line of code, the hydra’s immortal ‘head.’ He started a low purring as he altered the code and searched for the next. Within moments, the bands not only ceased their torment, they popped open and fell from his wrists.

Draxton struggled to sit up though his arms felt like overheated rubber gaskets. The Minshaari was by his side in an instant. The Seshinaar’s arm felt good around his back. He leaned into the strong, slender body, inhaled his heady mix of cologne and sexy male musk. He was too weak to act on his desires at this time, too battered and sore. But he knew what the future held. He’d have that gorgeous male in his bed eventually, one way or another.

“Thank you, Fieryl.” Draxton made room as the Minshaari hopped onto the side of the bed. He leaned against the male’s side, frowning at the unusual pallor to his skin.

“Yes, thank you, my friend. Once more, you prove invaluable.”

“Remember that, Kasseus, when I do something that makes you so crazy you threaten to chop off my tail.” The rakshasa’s laughter was accented with deep purrs as he double-checked the slave bands’ coding. “I’ve kept the codes in place, just commented out the hydra so they’d release. You didn’t ask for it, but my advice is to show them to the Circle. Brixys’ attacks have grown far too bold.”

“He is a fool.” The Minshaari piled more pillows against the wall, and leaned back with Draxton held close to his side. “He’s never taken you seriously as a researcher because you’re not Seshinaar. I’ve yet to see another with a greater thirst for knowledge or more focused persistence in solving a problem.”

“I believe the phrase you’re searching for is ‘stubborn old cat.” Fieryl gathered the discarded bands and sealed them in static boxes. “I’ll put these away for later. Want me to order you both a meal before I collapse for a few days’ worth of sleep?”

“Please. I’m sure Sgt. Larimore could use something to build his strength back up. Light but filling. No heavy spices.”

“Don’t I get a vote?” Draxton looked from one to the other, a frown wrinkling his brow. “I’d like something a little less bland and a hell of a lot more appetizing than what you’re describing.”

“As you wish. I’ll send up a variety of items, sergeant If there is nothing else, Minshaari, I’ll leave you both to rest.”

“Just one thing,” Draxton halted the rakshasa before he reached the door. “How do you know Brixys coded the Hydra program onto the bands? The Legion sent me to the slave pens to send a message to the rest of the rank and file. They wanted to make a statement. They could have been the ones who coded it.”

“Currently, all I have is intuition. One of your ‘gut feelings.’ After ordering your meal, I’ll deconstruct the code one line at a time until I know all its secrets. Built-in or aftermarket add-on, I’ll find out when the Hydra was installed and by whom.”

“More tenacity?”

Fieryl threw his head back and laughed, a deep rumbling sound with an undercurrent of purrs. “Exactly. Plus, I’m fascinated by the history of hydra myth. I wish to read more of this Heracles and his Labors.”

“Good luck, and thanks again.”

The rakshasa bowed deeply then closed the door behind him with a soft click. Draxton sagged against the pillows, his burst of energy fading. Strong arms pulled him against a smooth, firm chest, and he looked in to the mesmerizing eyes of the Minshaari.

“Before our meal arrives, Sgt. Larimore, there’s a small matter we need to discuss.”

“And that is?” Was that his voice? It was little more than a whisper of sound on a held breath. He focused on the Seshinaar’s lips, full and inviting and close enough to steal a taste.

“Your punishment for turning your weapon against the Minshaari.”