Your Kinky Boifriend

A wonderful follower recently sent me copies of the original versions of my stories, which I wrote almost a decade ago. I'm posting them here, unedited, for folks to enjoy. 

Chapter One

My head was spinning and, try as I might, I couldn’t seem to put the room in focus.

A blurred figure next to me spoke, “He’ll make the perfect gift for our Warlord.”

Piece by piece I assembled the room around me. I seemed to be on some sort of altar, the cool obsidian slab pressing against my back. My skin waxed and washed, it tingled with a cleanliness I had only rarely known in the slums.

“I agree,” Another form stepped into my field of vision, “but wait until you see the finishing touch.” The figure stood between my spread and elevated legs, “Easy there boi, I won’t hurt you.”

My breath quickened as he approached my exposed genitals. Something cool and slippery pressed against my sphincter.  Moaned weakly, I couldn’t stop my cock from standing straight up in the air as he massaged his fingers into my rear-end. I had been touched there before when I was younger; some of the older kids had their way with me before I was old enough to defend myself. It had never felt this… good.

The form between my legs playfully pumped my meat, “He’ll wish he could do that in a few days.”

Their faces began to take shape as my vision cleared. They were older men, both wearing robes signifying their rank in the College of Mages. I had seen many of their order wander through the slums on their way to and from the college, but the symbols on these men were unfamiliar to me. I had the dreadful sense that they were far more powerful than the mages I’d seen on the streets.

The second man stood at my side, “What do you mean Magister Galenos?”

I trembled. The man massaging my nethers was a Magister; a terrible commander of the arcane arts and likely someone of high noble standing.

“Bring me the stone, Minister Aktis,” The Magister spoke, “and I will show you what I mean.”

“P-please,” I groaned as the Magister’s fingers pressed deeper into my hole, “What are you doing?”

“It’s all right,” the old man soothed me with his voice, “You will come to no harm.”

Minister Aktis returned from a small anti-chamber holding a small chest. “Here you are Magister.”

I gasped as the room filled with a twinkling-blue starlight. Inside of the chest, resting on a pillow of black velvet, was the deepest, most azure, purest stone my young eyes had ever seen.

“This,” The Magister continued, his wizened fingers removing the stone from its cradle, “Is a very rare, very old magic.” He looked down at me, “Tell me my boi, have you ever heard of Ganymede’s Tears?”

I feebly shock my head no.

“Well,” He continued, “This little stone happens to be one of those tears, and it is very valuable.” He chuckled, “You see, when I insert this stone here,” I drew in a sharp breath as he pushed the stone inside my lubricated hole, “It will take root at the base of your sex.” My throbbing cock instantly went soft. “And will produce some very pleasant effects; one of which your new master will enjoy quite thoroughly.”

The Minister couldn’t help himself, “Will this be enough to save our college?”

Magister Galenos beamed, “With a bit of luck, it will do far more than that.”

My insides pulsed with an eerie rhythm, “Wh-what’s happening to me…?”

“Hush dear boi,” the old man’s tone was dismissive, “Soon you will meet our Warlord, and you’ll need your rest to face the likes of him.”

By magic or exhaustion, I drifted off once again…

It was a hot and humid day in the capitol city; My cotton toga sticking against my stomach as if it were a second skin. Even though it covered only one shoulder, and barely stretched to mid-thigh, it was like wearing a winter coat. I was paraded through the streets, like a trophy.

“My Lord Magister,” I shuffled uncomfortably on the golden litter, “What are you to do with me?”

He walked next to my litter; One of many in a stream of tribute running through the capitol city streets. Tribute Day had begun a decade earlier when the Sultan had been deposed. They said Warlord Hadrian had run his predecessor through with a sword of pure glass, shattering the old man and ending a dynasty of over a thousand years. Now all the noble families and guilds gathered yearly to pay tribute to our new ruler and, if rumor were true, protect themselves from his wrath.

The wizened Magister shot me a stern glance, “Be silent,” he hissed, “You were selected for talents other than inane questioning.”

I lounged back on a particularly plush pillow, resigning myself to whatever the fates held in store. It may have been the heat, or the excitement of the day, but I could swear I felt vibrations from the bed of the litter.

“Presenting tribute from the Grand College of Mages, High Magister Galenos!” the announcer’s voice boomed throughout the throne room, magically amplified from his location near the entrance.

The Warlord was a shockingly handsome man. He stood taller than most, at least a head’s height taller than me, and his broad shoulders spoke anthems about his battle prowess. “Master Galenos,” he spoke with a voice that needed no amplification. “I hear you have worked some strange magic into this year’s tribute, and yet all I see before me is a frightened boi.” He stroked his trimmed beard; dark brown hair frosted with hints grey.

Master Galenos made his approach through the throne room and gestured for me to follow, “Quite true my lord, you will find our tribute valuable indeed.” He bowed low to the floor and I followed suit. “It is known, throughout our land, that you have an insatiable appetite and vigor; ten men could not have fathered more children then you.”

Entranced as I was with The Warlord’s dark grey eyes, I almost missed the flicker of anger they let out, “You know, as well as I that, no children bear my face, old man. Why else would you have brought me a boi as tribute?”

“My lord,” the prostrate Magister continued, “I meant no disrespect. I merely mean to say that no man could have fathered more children then you. It is not a question of ability or potency, but one of a more... delicate nature.”

“Go on,” The Warlord’s gaze settled on me. I quickly looked to the floor for refuge, but could not help trembling.

“This boi has been enchanted by a very old, and very rare magic,” Galenos’ chest swelled with pride, “He could bear your child.”

I must not have heard him correctly. I was no woman, unless… The stone?

“Bonded to this boi is a stone the likes of which will never again be seen; a tear out of a legend, from one taken and loved by a God.” The Magister paused for effect, “None were thought to still exist, but our humble college unearthed one, and it now resides within his womb.”

The Warlord rose from his throne, “A Tear of Ganymede… you found one?”

Galenos bragged, “We did my lord, and I implanted it in the boi myse-”

“What of the secondary effects?” The Warlord interrupted, “The bonding?”

“My lord is well versed,” the old scholar was impressed, “The boi has exhibited all the signs; he has lost his ability to grow hair on all places but his head, and no beard shall ever sprout on his face again.”

Subconsciously, I ran a hand across my smooth cheek.

“Furthermore, he will never again be able to mate like Men do. The stone has implanted itself within his core, and will keep him ever clean and willing.”

T-the old man must be crazy... right? It had been several weeks since The Magister had implanted me with the stone, and I had never once been erect or aroused. But…  surely that was just the stress?

“His only release will come from the first man to bed him. Once you have your way with him, he will be loyal to you, or he will never again know pleasure.” The Magister grinned, “It will take the magic time to fully prepare his body, but soon his womb shall be as plentiful as any woman’s. He is my gift to you, the tribute of our college.”

My cheeks were wet. Somehow, and without knowing it, I had begun to cry. If only I could disappear, flee from the palace! I opened my eyes and-

“You knew nothing of this… did you?” the Warlord stood immediately before me, his height and splendor too much to bear.

“N-no my lord… Th-they took me in the night… I-I don’t remember a-anything...” He wouldn’t stop looking at me. The courtiers and guests of the hall had gone completely silent, each and every eye trained on me, the freakish slave-boi, and his new master.

Without so much as another word, The Warlord turned and went back to his throne. It was a glorious sight, black onyx carved with faceless carvings of warriors long dead. I wept silently, overwhelmed and completely out of my element.

“Master Galenos, you have outdone yourself.” The Warlord spoke, “I accept your tribute and know that I will forever owe a debt to the ‘Grand’ College of Mages.”

The Magister bowed deeply, “You are too kind my lord, I assu-“

“However,” The Warlord interrupted Galenos’s pandering, “You will not live to see the end of this day.”

I felt relief as all eyes turned from me to Galenos, who appeared to age with each passing moment. “M-my lord I-“

“You kidnapped and violated one of my subjects. What? Do you think me some barbarian king of the wastes?” The Warlord addressed the court, “I will accept your gift, and spare your college. You, however, have wronged a citizen of the land, and will enjoy only what my finest torturer can provide before you die.” He gestured to the nearest guard, “Take him from my sight.”

“You are but a MAN, you know NOTHING of the powers I wield!” Galenos was no more, his form ablaze with purple fire as his skin shriveled and stretched grotesquely. “I have seen the Book; I have learned true POWER!” A scorpion of massive size took shape in the fire; glittering scales and venomous tail tremendous and terrifying for all to behold.

The Warlord rose, grinning, “I always knew I’d have to kill you, but never did I think you’d give me cause to end your College.” He snapped his fingers, magic coalescing effortlessly around him. Three of the faceless statues sprang to life, freeing themselves from his throne. The Warlord shone with a blinding aura as he issued orders to his constructs. “Please dispose of this garbage, then bring in the captain of the guard. I will see the college ended this night.”

The scorpion hissed in rage and leapt for a lethal blow. One of the statues raised a hand, immobilizing the scorpion in mid-air. The second statue shuddered as if cold and a hoarfrost blanketed the monstrous arachnid. Galenos was revealed at its core; writhing in frustration and unable to move. The final statue drew a blade of pure light and sliced clean through the scorpion-skin, impaling the man entombed in his own magic.

I fell to my knees. Either the room was spinning or I was going mad.

What was left of the Magister shattered like a mirror, pieces falling to the floor and fragmenting into nothing.

I looked up to see Warlord Hadrian, our eyes locking as his gaze softened. Slowly the floor seemed to slide out from under me and it was only moments before I hit the floor that I realized I was falling.

With a dull thud my head hit the floor, turning my world to shadow.

Chapter Two

A gentle buzzing blossomed deep in my core. I rolled over on the lusciously smooth, red sheets; disoriented and out of sorts. I was on an enormous bed, seemingly oceanic in breadth. I felt… aroused; It was a feeling that came in waves, and always with the same incessant buzzing sensation.

“That’s the Tear,” it was The Warlord’s voice, “The stone has attached itself to the inner walls of your prostate. It’s massaging you, preparing you to receive…” He sounded hesitant to continue, “…carnal pleasures.” He stepped out from the shadows, robbed in royal furs with his crown glittering in the evening starlight. He bared his hands to show he meant no harm, “Please don’t be alarmed, I’ve simply moved you to my chambers.”

“S-stay back!” I tried to pull myself upright, but a wave of pleasure knocked the air from my lungs. My toes curled in exquisite pain as my insides hummed with an incapacitating bliss.

“It will be easier if you lay calmly,” The Warlord counseled, making a point not to approach too quickly, “No magic or tool can stop what is happening in your body.” His voice smacked of pity, “You’ll have a womb soon, and then…”

“I don’t u-understand.” I interrupted, “Am I becoming a w-woman?”

A bemused twinkle crept into his eye, “No, you will still be very much a boi.”

“But I’ll b-be…” I rubbed my smooth cheek once again, “I mean y-you’re going to…”

“Hush,” The Warlord slowly approached the bed, “You’ve been through a lot these past few weeks, haven’t you?”

My eyes sank to the floor, “Y-yes, my lord.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, “Do you remember what happened?”

The fluid in my stomach lurched as I thought back to The Magister. He said I’d been ‘selected,’ but I didn’t know what that meant.

I muttered a feeble answer, “All I can remember is waking up on a slab,”

“Nothing else?” The Warlord asked.

“I-I remember a stone, a beautiful blue stone,” my thoughts stalled as I recalled its splendor, “Magister Galenos put it inside me a-and…”

I gasped as sudden waves of pleasure rippled up my spine. The Warlord placed a hand on my shoulder, steadying me through my embarrassing contraction.

“They f-forced me,” I crumpled, the full gravity of the stone’s changes sinking in. My voice broke and caught in my throat. “I-I’m becoming a woman.”

The Warlord gently pulled back the sheets, exposing my naked form, “Hmm… I don’t see breasts… and there seems to be something extra between your legs,” he grinned compassionately, “No… I don’t believe you are becoming a woman.”

I cocked my head angrily, “M-my lord… forgive me, but I don’t find this very funny.”

“Nor do I,” he was fatherly, protective, “You were violated, and will have little say in what happens next.”

“…What happens next?” The words were painful.

“You will continue to feel this,” he placed his palm directly above where the buzzing was at its strongest. “And it will grow more intense over time.” He paused, measuring his words carefully. “Have you ever heard the story of Ganymede?”

I shook my head silently.

“Allow me to sit more comfortably, and I’ll tell you the tale,” I blushed, but moved over so The Warlord could settle next to me on the bed, “Long ago, there was a beautiful youth by the name of Ganymede. He was the envy of men and women alike, yet he never took a mortal lover. He dreamed only of faraway lands, for he was an explorer and adventurer at heart.”

I shuffled uncomfortably. It didn’t feel right for someone of such high status to address me so casually; it was disconcerting.

“But he caught the gaze of Zeus, king of all Gods,” The Warlord continued, “And Zeus came down from his throne to court the youth. They say that at first Ganymede resisted, but that Zeus was clever and tricked the boi into giving away his heart.”

“Giving away his heart?” I cupped my stomach pensively as the buzzing started up again.

The Warlord noticed my gesture, but carried on, “The accounts vary by province, but they all agree that on the eve of his twentieth year Ganymede laid with Zeus and was overcome by the God’s potency. He was soon with child.”

I let out a high pitched whimper, “I’m s-sorry, my lord,” I tried to cover my face as it flushed, “I feel s-so…” The buzzing made my legs tremble somewhere between frustration and delight.

“It’s all right,” He reached around and enveloped me in a side hug. The furs on his robe pressed against my cheek as I let him hold me. “We can talk more later. Here,” he offered his hand like a gentleman, “Squeeze as much as you need to, I know this can’t be comfortable.”

“I-I don’t know how to thank you, my lord,” I struggled to maintain my poise in front of him.

“That’s simple,” he embraced me tightly, “You don’t need to.”

Despite the comfort of The Warlord’s chambers I did not sleep well. I had disturbing dreams. Being chased down dark corridors; monsters following me, tearing at my clothing and drooling obscenely at my naked form. I cried out!

“Easy, easy…” There was someone in the room with me, “You’re still safe, you’re still in my chambers.” The Warlord was seated beside me, a kind expression painted on his face.

I suddenly became aware that I’d kicked off the sheets in my terror. I covered myself life a prudish school-child; rumors of The Warlord’s sexual prowess fogging my thoughts, “M-my lord… I-i…”

His teeth flashed in a wide grin, “No need to be afraid,” he caressed my cheek, “As Warlord I am used to being feared, but you are as a delicate flower,” he seemed to peer into my thoughts with his every word, “And I will not force you to bloom against your will.”

My cheeks burned red, “A-about last night, I just want to- I mean I’m grateful you-“

“None of that,” he interrupted, “I know it was not an ideal way for us to meet, and I know you were… disadvantaged by the changes going on in here.” He patted my abdomen. “But today is a new day,” He turned around and grabbed a silver tray from off one of the side tables, “and I had the servants prepare breakfast for you.”

Lifting the lid, he revealed a sumptuous assortment of fresh fruits. I felt my stomach rumble audibly.

He smiled, “I thought you might accept The Warlord feeding you breakfast as a sign that things are improving.”

I made direct eye contact with him for the first time. There was a kindness in him that seemed genuine. His dark grey orbs flickered with a humor and joviality that almost made me forget my predicament.

He picked up a branch of grapes, popping the bottom-most one past his lips. “See?” he chided, “No poison, no tricks, just breakfast.”

He laid out comfortably on the bed; content to select morsels of fruit to feed me.

It was more luxury that I usually expected in an entire year. I chewed happily as he informed me of last night’s events.

“After you feel asleep I joined the full host of my guard for an assault,” He described the evening’s battle at The Grand College of Mages; how he’d struck down the Magisters one by one, pardoning the younger students for their master’s crimes. “It was almost daybreak before we had cleared the tower, but it was good work. The College was overdue for a good cleansing.”

“Did you get no sleep last night, my lord?” I asked between mouthfuls of melon.

“You slept most of the morning away,” he taunted, “I was back by six of the o’clock, and still had time for a quick nap.

It was unreal. The Warlord himself was offering me morsels of fruit and joking about his military conquests. I felt myself relaxing, grateful for his good company.

He picked up the last piece of fruit, “A cherry, how… appropriate.”

I was ripped back to reality in a sobering flash. My body was changing, and The Warlord had other motives for treating me so well.

“There, there,” He knew his joke had been in bad taste. “It’s just a piece of fruit. I’ll eat it.” He popped it into his mouth, dropping the stem back onto the platter. “See, no harm done.”

“Will you j-just do it already!” my outburst was pitiable. The buzzing had come back the moment he’d pulled close to me, reinforcing last night’s terrors.

His was tender, “Do what, my blossom?”

“I can feel it inside of me, that thing the Magister put in.” I bit my lip in frustration, “I know what it’s doing, what it means to you.” I pleaded with everything I had, the memories previous slum rapes replaying in my mind “Just don’t h-hurt me…”

He pulled me in closer, the furs of his royal robes rough against my bare skin. His fingers teased their way up my spine until he was cupping the base of my skull. His face drew near, grey eyes full of longing. As he kissed my cheek I began to cry.

“There, there…” he held me as my body shook with sobs. “Please don’t cry.” I felt my skin tickle with the electricity of magic. I buried my face in his robes and prayed to the Gods that I would disappear. “Open your eyes.”

I gasped. The entire bed, no, the entire room was covered in desert blooms. Their scent kissed my nostrils as The Warlord’s spell finished its work. “W-why? H-how did yo-“

He chose a flower from next to my head, “I told you,” he brought the bloom to his mouth, tracing its outline tenderly, “I will not force a flower to bloom before it’s ready.” The petals kissed my lips next, their soft flesh ticklingly sweet. “When a Warlord chooses his bride to be he takes his time.”

“B-bride to be…?” I caught myself blushing again.

He chuckled, “Well… anything else simply won’t do. All the work of raising an heir just for it to be a bastard?” I couldn’t look away from his grey eyes, “There are rules about that sort of thing here in this ‘civilized’ capitol you know.”

For the first time, I laughed in his arms.

“Please,” he continued, “Give me a chance. I’ll prove to you I’m not just some baby crazed tyrant.”

He had comforted me, fed me, and seemingly wasn’t going to rape me. Maybe things really were looking up? I rested my head on his warm shoulder, “As you will, my lord.”

“Hadrian,” He pulled back and locked eyes with me again, “My name is Hadrian.”

Chapter Three

“Are you almost done in there?” The Warlord’s voice wasn’t angry, but I could tell he was starting to grow anxious.

“But my lord,” I protested, “Bubbles!”

I dunked my hands back into the effervescent bath water; its jasmine scented warmth radiating through my pores. It was undeniably the most luxurious experience I’d ever had in my whole twenty-one years, and I never wanted it to end.

“I thought I told you to call me Hadrian,” an exasperated sigh issued forth from the bedroom, “If you don’t get out soon you’ll turn into a prune!”

 “All right,” I unenthusiastically removed myself from the water, slinking out over bath’s white marble. My skin was as smooth as the tile floor below me. “I’m drying off, my lor- I mean Hadrian.”

“You remember the word I taught you?” he teased, “I don’t want you getting my chambers wet.” 

“Siccum.” The word gave power to the tiles below me, activating their stored magic. Sunlight and warmth streamed across my naked form, wicking away any excess moisture. I was dry in moments.

“The magic should release automatically when you’re dry,” he continued to speak through the bathroom door, “Try on the robes, I want to see you.”

I pulled on the sea-green toga The Warlord had selected for me. “It’s a little… short, my lord,” The cloth only came down to cover a third of my thigh. I blushed and attempted to pull it down further.

He opened the door a crack, peeking through his fingers with a grin, “Don’t be such a prude, my blossom,” he entered the chamber, “May I look now?”

“It’s a little short,” I repeated, “But I appreciate it, thank you.”

“I can get a longer one for you,” he offered, moving toward me.  He was not wearing his full regalia, having chosen a simple white undershirt and loincloth. His muscles stretched and flexed enticingly as he approached.

“Mmmmmhh?!” I fell to the floor as my pelvis spasmed wickedly.

“Hey, hey,” he was at my side in an instant, cradling me through the sensations, “It will be all right, the tear is making some final… adjustments.”

He stroked my hair, prompting me to focus and breath. I did as we’d practiced over the past week; slow, deep breaths, in and out. I felt his chest rise and fall next to mine and tried to match it.

This wasn’t the first spasm he’d held me through. “It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

I didn’t believe him. The spasms might go away for an hour or two, but they always came back. They seemed to be getting worse, and I was starting to have… desires.

“You’re beautiful,” I snuggled into his powerful chest, “Thank you for helping me.”

His pupils dilated as he stared down at me, “You’re gorgeous,” one of his hands wandered up my silky leg, pausing briefly at the hem of my robe.

My heart raced, “I n-need something… but I don’t know what it is.” I shivered as he lowered me down to the floor, “Doesn’t that seem strange?”

His breath had quickened; his face racked with symptoms resembling pain, “It makes perfect sense,” he pulled himself on top, spreading my thighs with his wandering fingers. “Maybe I can give you what you need?”

Our lips locked in a passionate kiss; his warmth a stark contrast to the cool tile beneath my back. He devoured me, every sinew in my body craving more.

“Fuck!” he pulled away abruptly, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I tried to pull him back down, “It’s okay, I’ve been with men before,” I remembered the hasty rapes behind my old tavern – the way each of those bastards seemed to lose control as they violated me. “I won’t fight you.”

He looked confused, “Fight me?”

I didn’t want him to be angry, “I won’t, I promise…”

His face twisted, “Fuck!” He punched the tile floor, cringing as the pain washed up his arm.

“Don’t be angry!” I curled up into a protective ball, “I’ll do whatever you want, I p-promise…”

He didn’t respond as I curled myself tighter, praying that when he started hitting it would be rough enough to knock me out. I didn’t want to be awake when the real punishment began. Men who liked inflicting pain were slow, methodical. I didn’t think I could go through that again…

“I’m not going to hurt you,” his breathing had calmed significantly, “Though, it sounds like you’ve been hit before.”

This was a new tactic, most men who had me cornered didn’t try calming me down first.

“Sit up,” he ordered, “I just want to talk.”

I sheepishly crawled to the opposite side of the bathroom, wrapping my arms around my legs before gathering the courage to respond. “Talk?”

“You’ve been raped…” he stared at the floor, “… Haven’t you?”

I thought back over the past week with him. The food, the clothing, the baths; what if he didn’t want me anymore? Would I have to go back to the slums? “I-I can still make it feel good,” I whimpered, “I promise…”

We sat in silence again. He seemed troubled, but calm. Maybe he really wasn’t going to hurt me?

“You have to understand,” he finally spoke, “That stone in your gut, it’s not just changing your insides.” He massaged his bruised hand, “You smell beautiful, you feel so inviting. My mind goes all fuzzy and all I want to do is…”

His voice trailed off but I knew what he meant. My spine shivered delightfully, the memory of his lips still fresh and tantalizing.

“It’s happening to me too,” I admitted, “My knees start to wobble whenever you get close, and I’ve been feeling strange… down here.” My hand circled around my lower abdomen. “I’m not getting h-hard anymore, but my insides… ache? I don’t really know how to describe it.”

He nodded, “The stone wants to fulfil its function.”

I almost hesitated to ask, “…Its function?”

Hadrian sighed heavily and rubbed his temples, “When Zeus took Ganymede the boi was forever changed. The God’s seed impregnated the boi; it forced a kind of femininity on his features, and ‘stole’ his heart.”

“You mentioned that before,” I shuffled uncomfortably, “But what does it mean?”

“Only Zeus could ever satisfy him.” Hadrian looked into my eyes, searching for an understanding I couldn’t provide. “Don’t you get it? Zeus was the only partner who could ever please him. The stories say that after giving birth to their child, Ganymede tried to run from the God, to go on the adventures he’d always dreamed of.”

“Did he escape?” I asked.

“Zeus let him go,” Hadrian continued, “The boi couldn’t please himself, couldn’t be pleased by anyone else, and had felt the touch of a God. He crawled back to Zeus in less than a month, begging the God to take him back.”

A slow sense of understanding crept in around the corners of my mind. “That’s when he cried, isn’t it? That’s when Ganymede wept his tears.”

“Yes,” Hadrian nodded grimly, “Upon reuniting with Zeus, the boi wept. Ever a slave to lust and desire; bound by a God’s love.”

“So I have to sleep with Zeus?” My attempt at humor fell short.

“No, my blossom,” Hadrian offered me a pitying glance, “It means that the first man to plant his seed in there will own you forever.”

Chapter Four

We sat out on the balcony, feasting while he regaled me with stories from around the land. The wine was red and plentiful; quickly going to my head as I enjoyed his tales.

“Magic doesn’t come from nothing,” he grinned, “It is all energy, converted from one form to another.”

I took another swig, “Like food?”

He beamed from across the table, “Just so; mages use their own life force or the life force of those around them, shaman call upon nature, sorcerers summon forces from the beyond... All schools of magic draw their power from somewhere.”

“What about you?” I asked, genuinely intrigued.

He cocked his head roguishly, “A Man has to keep some secrets.”

I could smell his warmth all around me. “Hadrian…?” My sleep-weakened voice was barely audible.

At some point he must have wrapped me in his robes and carried me back inside. The wine had lulled me into a stupor and even now made me dizzy and disoriented.

“You’re not used to the finer things in life,” he was seated at a massive oaken desk on the far side of the chamber, apparently embroiled in the affairs of state. “Go back to sleep.”

I quivered inside the cocoon of furs, my body tingling as I imagined being near him. My hand wandered low across my stomach and I parted my legs ever so tenderly. I pulled on my soft cock, whimpering as it refused to harden.

“What are you doing over there, my blossom?” Hadrian rose from his desk and wandered toward me.

“I want to feel good…” I mumbled, drunk on more than just wine, “Why can’t I feel good?”

He sat on the bed next to me, “I shouldn’t have wrapped you in my robe,” with strong hands he began to unwrap me.

“Wait,” I rolled onto my side, unwrapping the fur. I took his hand in mine and slowly guided it under my clothes. His finger-tips brushed against my soft sex and-

“No,” he pulled his hand back, “Not like this.”

I moaned in frustration, “I don’t understand…” I felt the tear pulse against the base of my groin; vibrating and teasing me maddeningly. “I thought you wanted me.”

He snuggled in next to me on the bed, “I do want you, my blossom.”

“Please…” I pushed myself into him, “I need you.”

Despite his undergarments, I could feel his girth begin to rouse. He seemed unsure; holding back his body as though scared he would break me. I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed my way along his neck, desperate for his affection. It had been almost four weeks since the tear had been implanted, and my whole body yearned for release.

“Kiss me,” I pleaded, “I’ll be yours forever, just please kiss m-”

I pulled back abruptly as something shifted in my core. I moaned in panic as my pelvic muscles began to contract of their own accord.

“Blossom?” He reached out a hand to steady me, “What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happening,” I reached below my limp boi-hood, “I f-feel… wet.”

Over the past several weeks, Hadrian had explained a bit more about the changes I’d experience through the magic of the tear. The stone converted all of my food and drink into energy for growing my womb; meaning I was eternally clean and ready. Why then did I feel wet?

I didn’t want to look. “A-am I bleeding?”

“Let me look,” he pulled my legs apart, tenderly examining my exposed hole. He looked fascinated instead of disgusted, “It’s a clear liquid… it kind of looks like, pre?”

I blushed as he caressed my inner thigh, “What does that mean?”

“Here,” he gently pulled one of my ankles up over his shoulder, “I’ll show you.”

He touched my hole, the smooth skin of his fingertips massaging circles around my pucker. It was the first time he’d ever touched me there.

My pelvis contracted once again, and I gripped the sheets in depraved pleasure.

“Wow,” he pulled his glistening fingers away, “You’ve got a real honey-pot down here.”

“F-fuck…” I trembled on the bed, my legs wide open. My fingers slipped in and out of my newly awakened hole with ease; the tear and my lack of release keeping it wet and eager.

My body danced against the edge of orgasm; the special spot inside me rippling with carnal delight. Just as quickly as it approached it was gone again – My pelvis contracted, forcing my fingers away.

I doubled over in frustration, “WHY?!” I bucked my hips like a wild thing, desperate for any form of release. Only five weeks in and the need was overwhelming me.

“You look upset,”

I gasped, startled by the sudden appearance of Hadrian’s voice. He must have come in while I was… distracted.

“I can’t cum.” I rolled over, “I can’t cum, I can’t cum, I ca-“

Hadrian interrupted me with a kiss on the neck, “You smell so sexy,” he pushed into my back.

“Please don’t tease me,” I begged, “I can’t lie next to you in bed anymore, or have you kiss me like this; I’m going mad!”

“You want me to fuck you?” Using his powerful arms, he flopped me onto my back, “All right, I’ll fuck you…”

I felt tears well up in the corners of my eyes as he kissed me. Maybe he really meant it? Maybe I would really get to cum? “Yes, please,” I dug my fingers into his shoulders, “I need it!”

His fingers massaged my plump ass, “What sweet boi,” he groaned in my ear, “You get all wet for me?”

I trembled in his experienced hands; wanting desperately for him to make me feel good. There was a momentary pang of jealousy as I felt his turgid cock press into my leg, but it was quickly replaced with a greater sense of lust.

“Take me,” I pleaded.

He gripped my neck roughly, forcing kisses against my lips like an animal.  His tip pressed against my well lubricated hole, playfully stretching and teasing my opening. It felt massive and, despite my fingering, I was intimidated.

“Look at me,” he held my chin; face inches away from mine, “I want to see you.”

I struggled meekly, embarrassed to be so vulnerable in front of him. Every other man had taken me from behind.

“Beautiful,” he squeezed me roughly, his eyes dilated and bestial.

I cried out as he sank into me, but he wouldn’t let me look away.

“Give me your cunny,” he inched his dick in, forcing me to maintain direct eye contact, “All slick and wet for your Warlord.”

The fuck was filthy, rough, and extremely arousing. He wasn’t interested in simply plundering my hole, he got inside my mind; toying and teasing me higher and higher.

It was working, “Oh my g-gods…” I quivered from his full, deep thrusts.

“Fuck, baby,” his pace quickened and beads of his sweat dripped down onto my cheek.

It happened all at once. He thrust in to the hilt, squeezing my jaw painfully as his entire body clenched. I cried out as my hole began to spasm, waves of pleasure blossoming from my pelvic muscles and reverberating through my spine and legs.

He covered my lips with his, grinding against me as he achieved his brutal climax. Something at the back of my mind told me he wasn’t simply getting off, he was breeding.

It took him several moments to calm down, the animal giving way to the gentleman. “Hot fuck, baby,” he exhaled, kissing my cheek, “I needed that.”

My spasms were still constant. Every second my whole pelvis would contract, seeming to draw Hadrian’s softening cock further inside me. I felt strange, content in a way I’d never felt before.

“I’m sorry I lost control; I was going a bit mad, myself,” he whispered at my ear, “Did I hurt you?”

The fog of my orgasm was slowly lifting. I looked up into Hadrian’s eyes only to see them fill with regret. “You were a bit rough,” I confessed, “But I needed to cum so badly… thank you.”

He looked heartbroken. “Oh my sweet blossom,” he rested his forehead against mine, nuzzling our noses together intimately. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

I enjoyed his nearness; enjoyed the way he held and caressed me. “Please don’t leave me tonight,” I ran my hands up his back, “I don’t think I could sleep without you.”

He pulled out of my freshly sown hole and wrapped me into a bear hug, “I’ll be right here,” he whispered, “I wouldn’t dream of leaving your side.”

Chapter Five

“Please, my lord!” I cried, “I-it’s too… mhmmmm…”

He gripped my waist, pulling me down against his gruff, bearded face. I tried to pull myself off him, but the entirety of my limp sex was trapped in his mouth.  With a devilish tongue, he slurped and suckled me past the point of bliss.

But there was no climax, the pleasure only built. “M-my lord,” my loins were on fire. “I c-can’t!”

As he let go, I fell forward onto the smooth tile. “You taste so sweet,” He pulled himself up off the floor, “Sweet, like honeysuckle.”

The tear buzzed away inside, seeming to grow more intense without his touch. “Please…” I was begged, “Please make it stop buzzing…”

He leaned forward to untie my crumpled toga and slid it off my back, “I’ll be gentle…” the cool, evening breeze tickled my bare skin in contrast to his warm, sturdy hands. “I’ll be sweet…” he rolled me over onto my back, lowering me to the tile floor. Crouching over my supple frame, he pulled me into a slow, intimate kiss.

I felt dizzy. His thick member glinted with passion in the candlelight, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before it was buried in my loins.

He spit in his hand, rubbing the saliva confidently. His foreskin pulled back, exposing a pink, fleshy tip. “Come here,” he lifted my legs above his shoulders.

“Nnnn…” The tip was large and took what seemed like an eternity to slip past my gates. My hole remained tight, even after weeks of lovemaking. The tear seemed to want each time to feel like the first.

“You all wet for me baby?” He sank in deeper, reveling in my silken gash. “It’s a proper cunny now...”

My cheeks flushed red as the tear began its carnal dance. No matter what position we took, and no matter what angle he took me from, the results were always the same. His pleasure was my pleasure. I came when he came.

“You have to earn it,” He groaned, getting off on the control. Our lovemaking had started out sweet – with foreplay and gentle kisses – until it became obvious that none of that mattered. The stone tied me to his climax, and that was the only thing that mattered.

“Please, Daddy,” I whined, using the moniker he liked most. “Make me a mommy…?”

“Your breasts look swollen,” He leaned forward and took one of my teats in his mouth, nipping and biting roughly.

My whimpers were high pitched and effeminate, the tear rewarding me with doses of pleasure as I gave in to his desires. It wasn’t a conscious thing; he wasn’t forcing me to become his perfect lover. The magic that bound me was subtle, seeming to replace my own thoughts with his fantasies.

He released my swollen nipple with a final nip, coming up for air, “I’ll make you a mommy,” he promised, enjoying a slow, deep fuck-stroke. “But you have to be a good boi… you have to whisper sweet things in Daddy’s ear…”

“I’ll give you a son…” I murmured into his ear, resting my head against his sweaty neck, “He’ll grow big and strong in my tummy…”

He panted, rutting with every ounce of his strength, “I’ll keep you full,” he grunted, “We’ll fill the palace with heirs!”

The tear buzzed away the last of my inhibitions, and I wrapped my arms and legs around his torso. I hung from his muscled frame as he fucked, no longer touching the floor.

His bestial roar exploded in my ear as he climaxed. My cunny muscles spasmed and squeezed, milking every last drop of his batter into my core. A part of me felt a deeper magic at work, churning an unbelievable amount of seed from his bullocks.

“FUCK!” he was in a realm of paternal delight, knowing only of thrusting and seeding. His eyes were blank and dark with pleasure.

Finally free from the buzzing, my mind began to clear and focus. In the moments after orgasm I became keenly aware of my subversion. I trembled, pulling away from his strength as tears began to stream down my cheek, “W-what is happening to me?”

His duties often took him away from the residential wing, and I spent long afternoons alone or with the eunuchs he left to guard me. Anxiety often welled up in my chest, especially if he was gone overnight.

“Good afternoon, my blossom.” He sauntered into the solarium where I lay resting, “How was your afternoon.”

The buzzing had already started, and I felt sick, “It’s started again…” I looked over at him, seeking pity and comfort in his eyes, “Why does it keep buzzing?”

“You haven’t figured it out yet,” He sat down next to me on the chaise, “Have you?”

“Figured out what?” I pulled myself onto his lap.

“It buzzes when I’m horny,” he squeezed me into his chest, “Every time I’m aroused, or randy, or even slightly excited you start to tingle… in here.” He rubbed my lower belly.

“You’re horny a lot,” I teased innocently, “What will it take to satisfy you?”

He continued to rub my stomach, as if willing something to appear. “I think you know what I want.”

“Daddy, please…? Please make the buzzing s-top…” he had draped me over the bed, my rump angled up to ease his entry.

He pinned my tummy against the sheets, “Easy boi…” his sex was almost painfully deep, “If you moan too much I’ll cum early. You know what happens when I cum early…”

Groaning, I buried my face in the sheets. He was right, of course! Over the past few nights we’d experimented, testing the magic of my pleasure spot. We knew it reacted directly to his sexual state, the more aroused he was the more I felt the buzzing.

“Please,” I pushed back against his thrusts, “It’s been buzzing for so long…”

The buzzing no longer stopping when he orgasmed. It wasn’t enough for him to simply cum anymore, it had to be completely satisfying. I was starting to learn just how kinky the Warlord really was.

With a slick ‘pop’ he pulled out of me, “Roll over,” he ordered, reaching below the bed, “I know exactly what I want.” He resurfaced with a short silver chain, “Put your hands over your head.”

“Wh-what is that?” I obediently raised my arms, anxiously looking towards his new implement.

Bringing the chain closer, he showed me the two flower-shaped clamps on either end. “It’s a toy,” He lowered his lips down to my right nipple, slurping and suckling the tender flesh.

I closed my eyes, blushing at the sudden rush of stimulation.

He released my teat with a kiss, “No matter what happens, keep your arms above your head.”

“Yes, Dadd-AAAh?!” I almost leapt off the bed as sharp pain rippled through my nipple. “Wh-what are you doing!?”

Looking down I could see one of the flower clips firmly attached to my already swelling nipple. The Warlord was suckling my other teat, priming it for his toy.

He flicked my unclamped nipple with his tongue before speaking, “You have such tender flesh my blossom.”

I had to fight to keep my arms where he wanted them as he slowly brought the second clip to bear, “My L-lord, it stings!”

His cock was already lining back up with my hole, “Thank me.” he ordered, firmly gripping the silver chain, “Thank me and I may take the buzzing away…”

I felt tears well up in my eyes, as the chain tormented my nipples, “Th-thank you, m-my Lord.” I could almost smell his arousal. Maybe this… maybe this time he’d be satisfied?

He tugged abruptly on the chain, “That’s not what you call me.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I endured his new toy bravely, trying to give him everything he needed. Did he want me to hurt?

It was like he could ready my mind, “You’re so beautiful when you squirm…” He kissed me tenderly, “I’m sorry I want this…” he began to fuck in earnest, “I’m sorry that I need this...” He pulled my legs over his shoulders, “Focus on my cock,” he pulled the chain brutishly, “Tighten up, baby. Show me you need it.”

It wasn’t long until I was a mess of tears and whimpers, “Please m-make me a Mommy…”

YOUR KINKY BOIFRIEND
 Fantasy, roleplay, and kink
 ABOUT ME—CAPTIONS—STORIES—MY PLEDGE