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

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” I groaned into his powerful shoulders. “I’m cumming!”

His slipped his calloused hands down my trembling thighs, “Good boi,” he groaned, deep voice rumbling against my chest, “Hold on to my neck.”

I hugged tightly as he pulled us upward; his half-giant blood gave him more than a foot on me and at least 200 pounds. My orgasming cock was trapped between our stomachs while his arms wrapped under my knees, holding my whole body aloft against his.

“I want to go deeper,” he pleaded, “I want to feel you at my root.”

I whispered my consent, orgasm still washing through my body. He’d rutted shallow to give me what I needed, but his blood demanded a deeper prize.

“A boi who cums from being buggered?” he grunted, “You don’t hear about that in the stories.”

“A giant tender enough to make love?” I nuzzled into his hairy chest, “You never hear about that in the stories either.”

“Half-giant,” he nipped at my ear, “and I’m only halfway inside…”

With a gasp, I felt his cock arrive at my deepest spot, “G-go slowly!”

“Here’s your real cunny,” His breath steamed, “Will you give it up for me?”

He bounced gently, coaxing his length deeper into my gash. A low, guttural groan erupted from my throat as we rounded a corner together – my toes curling in frustrated delight as he passed my last defenses.

“Oh my Mother…” I whimpered, “Y-you’re an animal!”

He chuckled wickedly, “No, but I’m about to fuck you like one.”

“Sweet boi,” he kissed me into consciousness, “Are you still with us?”

My head spun and my stomach felt... “I-I’m sorry!” I apologized, quickly realizing what happened, “I passed out… didn’t I?”

His eyes told me the truth before his words, “I was too rough with you – I didn’t realize until after spilling my seed,” He cupped my distended belly “Did I hurt you?”

It was said that giants moved slowly throughout the world because they had 3 pairs of balls swinging from their cocks. These were tales describing their insatiable lust – about maidens defiled grotesquely as seed ruptured their delicate frames. Valfred was only half giant, but the tales held true – between his legs hung 3 pairs of testes, churning away inside his massive sack.

“Valf…” I cooed, “You’d never hurt me.”

He wrapped himself protectively around my swollen frame, pulling me into the nook of his arm. “You smell different afterward,” his nose caressed the nape of my neck, “You smell of me… it’s cute.”

My stomach sloshed with his seed as I rolled onto my side. The dewy ground beneath our bedroll was hard, and I wanted to rest my head on the meat of his shoulder. “How far is it to the keep?” I asked.

“Depends,” he chuckled, “Can you ride in your state?”

“It’ll go down in a few hours,” I cradled my tummy, “It all absorbs so quickly.”

He kissed my cheek, “You know I love you… right?”

I grinned and returned his affections, “I do my knight… I do.”

The journey to the keep took three more days of hard riding and while the swelling in my stomach went down overnight, the dull pains of our love-making stayed with me for the rest of the trip.

“Are you hungry?” he offered me a slice of hard-tack.

I shook my head no. I always felt full after we coupled, my body needing time to metabolize his large deposit.

He grinned knowingly, “Maybe I’ll feed you again once we get to the keep?”

“I might allow that,” I teased, “Assuming we aren’t immediately thrown in the cells.”

“They would never throw a beauty like you in there,” he chomped into his mid-afternoon meal, “You’d call down the wrath of The Mother upon them.”

“The Mother’s wrath is fickle,” I mused, “And not likely to ward off an entire keep’s worth of guards.”

“Have you ever tried?” It was a serious question, “How many guards do you think you could incapacitate?”

The frost magic of my patron, The Mother, was known for its healing properties as well as its ability to decimate foes, but it wasn’t nearly as powerful as some of the other magic’s. The Father’s practitioners were known to burn down whole villages in rage, while followers of The Trickster might bleed chaos into the minds of whole armies.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, “Let’s just hope we don’t have to find out.”

“Presenting Patryk, Keeper of The Mother,” The banner-man announced, “And Ser Valfred Karr, Knight of The Starless Vale!”

As Valf and I marched through throngs of nobles, I noticed several older faces in the crowd. They seemed in awe to have a Keeper of The Mother this far south, as my kind hadn’t journeyed here in almost a generation. There were also young nobles in the crowd, and they snickered and sneered as we drew close. Valfred’s sword kept any from open mockery, but it was clear we were not welcome.

“My esteemed guests,” the High Lord of Timberseat perched on a resplendent living throne. The towering oak filled a whole wall of the keep, mightiest among the fabled southern redwoods. “A little dove tells me you’ve come with urgent news?”

“My esteemed lord,” I offered the response expected to one of his station, “If you received our message early, you would know we requested a private audience. You do us too great an honor, bringing us before the full court.” My azure robes danced in the air as I spun around, acknowledging all of the lords and lesser lords in attendance. “I am humbled.”

The High Lord of Timberseat, Keeper of the South and Master of the Forest, was a powerfully built man growing into the final years of his life. He was a respected general, having been taught combat and tactics from his father, one of the heroes from the War of Unification. “We do not care much for the requests of northerners here,” he chided, “nor do we keep secrets from our subjects.”

The audience chamber clamored in approval as the tree-lords waved their ceremonial staves and axes – grunting about ‘southern honor.’

“You know your home best my lord,” I bowed deeply, “and no offense was intended. Her majesty, Queen Marina II only wanted to spare your subjects the-“

“Enough,” The High Lord gestured, “You will deliver your message so that I may send you on your way.”

I felt Valf tense next to me, his warrior’s instincts sensing danger.

“Very well my lord,” I continued, “We northerners and southerners share a common enemy, do we not?”

A dread quiet fell across the entire hall.

“Indeed we do,” The high lord replied, drawing the circle and star across his chest to ward away evil, “It has been many, many moons since one of their kind was seen in this wood. Even longer since they last marched united.”

“Aye my lord,” I reached into my robes and pulled out a small crystal shell the size of my hand. In truth it was ice, a prison of The Mother’s making for my very deadly message. “But I’m afraid that creatures like these do not simply vanish from the world.”

“Approach,” the High Lord ordered, “Bring me your true message.”

I walked carefully up the steps, aware that each and every nobleman of the south was watching me. I laid the shell of ice upon the High Lord’s dais and stepped back; Releasing the magic of my order.

The ice melted rapidly, steaming and bubbling as it was consumed. At its core was a black substance; it seemed to shimmer, yet absorbed all light that came near it.

“Interesting” a dark but familiar voice filled my head, drowning out the screams of the unprepared noblemen. “Many fine specimens here… This one in particular looks, delicious.”

Through the screams I noticed a nobleman fall to his knees. He groaned in ecstasy, as the voice whispered of dark and unnatural delights.

“Join with us,” the voice ordered, “Offer your flesh to the stars, and we will make it sing!”

I summoned forth The Mother’s grace with my outstretched palm, “Jökul,” I whispered, causing wisps of ice to sparkle into being around the shadowy liquid, sealing it back inside a frosty prison.

“Stop that whore!” The voice raged, “Lover of Giants, bitch of The Mother, we hate it!”

The afflicted nobleman rose to his feet, axe in hand, “The stars are so beautiful!” his eyes were crazed, orgasmic, “Give yourself to them! Give yourself to the pleasure!”

He rushed forward, ready to bury his axe in my neck, but Valfred was too quick for him. With one stroke he beheaded the nobleman.

“Giant’s-son,” The voice cursed, “Mongrel! Dog! We will teach you of pain. We will grant you suffering from beyond hell! We-“

The voice was cut off abruptly as my spell finished encasing the vile liquid. Bodies of weaker nobleman lined the hall, many having lost consciousness as the dark voice overpowered them.

“They are not dead, High Lord.” I wiped sweat from my brow, “The Children have a powerful song, and your men have merely fainted.”

The High Lord of Timberseat, Keeper of the South and Master of the Forest, was pallid. Each wrinkle showed on his face, as rings growing on an ancient pine. “Where did you find this devil?” he demanded. “From what hell did it seep up into our kingdoms?

As Valf cleaned his sword he finished muttering a prayer for the dead, “Forgive me my High Lord,” he bowed, “But perhaps that is a conversation best held in private.”

Chapter Two

The High Lord of Timberseat was not amused, “That nobleman you beheaded was heir to the Thistle lands,” In the dim fire light of his council chambers he appeared gaunt and age-worn. “I’ll have to spend the remaining years of my life apologizing and prostrating to keep those lands in the Southern fold.”

“I do apologize my high lord,” Valf bowed repentantly, “Once the Children wiggle their way inside your mind there is no unseating them.”

“In all honesty, my high lord,” I too bowed and formed the circle and star across my breast, “It was only the second time I’d ever heard their song. I did not expect them to overpower one of your court so easily.”

The High Lord grunted, “The threat is real enough and worthy of pushing aside our Southern pride.” He offered us seats at his table, “You knew we would be inhospitable to your kind, and you are also very young. I cannot blame you for a bit of theatrics when the fate of creation in the balance.”

“You are too forgiving, my High Lord,” I sat down in an actual chair. It felt like a luxury after our month-long ride into the South. Valf sat next to me, pouring himself a large portion of mead.

“So tell me,” the High Lord sat at the end of the table. “How did this evil leak back into our kingdoms?”

“You are filthy,” I giggled as Valf pulled himself under the bed-furs, “Go take a bath first you big olf!”

“I thought you like me filthy?” his massive hands slipped up my lithe frame until they came to rest around my chest. His thumbs plucked at my breasts as he planted kisses around my navel.

“L-let me bathe you,” I laughed as he worked his own form of carnal magic on my flesh. “We’ve been on the road for too many nights.”

He released me, pulling himself back off our giant-sized bed. The men of the South had kept it from The War of Unification – almost 50 year ago – in honor of The Giant Commander, Bjarke. Bjarke of the Westlands had broken the siege of the South without burning a single of their sacred trees. He was remembered far more kindly than any of the other conquering lords.

I too rose from our bed and took my lover by the hand, “Over here,” I pulled him toward a gigantic wash basin. Valf had polished his longsword for most of the evening while I soaked in the warm bath. “Step in the water and I’ll clean you.”

“Promise to let me have my fun after?” he teased, “My giants-skin needs your soft kisses.”

Giants-skin was slang for his sack. It hung potently between his powerful thighs, nestled in a dense patch of coarse hair. The mere mention of it was enough to make me blush, especially since I knew days had gone by since and he was getting pent-up.

“Promise,” I cooed, licking my lips, “Why do you think I want to wash you so badly?”

I let out a silent prayer to The Mother, connecting my magic to the bath water and allowing my will to flow through it. Sleek tendrils of water climbed up Valf’s thighs, wisping and washing away built up grime.

My magic paid special attention to his tool; spiraling around his well-hung shaft and sack, “Fuck, Patryk.” His base grunts encouraged me to increase the pressure. “You’re playing a dangerous game, get me too horny and you may never walk again.”

Another five or so minutes passed before I released my spell. Valf stood in front of me, steam wafting up from his now closely scrubbed frame. He was fully erect, all fifteen inches of giant’s-girth pointing at the ceiling.

“I want you to taste me,” he urged, stepping to the edge of the wash basin.

I barely had to bend my head down to reach his tip. It was as wide around as my open mouth, and already dripped with his seedy gift. My lips greeted his piss-slit, slipping under his thick foreskin to envelop only his head inside my eager mouth.

“Good boi…” he groaned as my tongue stroked up and down the lid of his slit, whorishly scooping up dribbles of his gift to taste and savor.

With both hands I cupped his giants-skin, squeezing and tugging all six of his gonads. He cupped my head with one hand, spitting into the other before greasing up his pole. He jacked himself slowly, staring down at me with loving eyes.

“Let it kiss you, baby,” His strokes closed the tip of his foreskin around my lips, coating me with dewy essence. I opened my mouth wider, longing to take more of him inside.

It was a deeply erotic ritual, dating back to the days of first contact between Giants and Man. The nations of men had always used marriage to broker peace, and offered wives to the Giants of the West. The new wives quickly learned that bedding their massive husbands was unwise and thus began practicing ‘the nuptial kiss.’

“Kiss it boi,” Valf stroked harder, “Kiss your lover!”

It wouldn’t be long. My attentive maw sought out his most private of pleasures and my hands applied a gentle pressure to his giant’s-skin. Five minutes in and he was already panting; a beast longing for sweet release. I groaned, tickling him with the vibrations from my throat.

All at once my mouth was filled. I swallowed great globs of his spunk as it streamed into my throat. There was more than I could swallow at once, and I could feel my cheeks puff out like a chipmunk.

Valf panted like an animal, his orgasm dragging on for almost a whole minute, “Fuck, Patryk…”

His heady cream was a drug, its blissful warmth and aroma intoxicating me with waves of euphoria. Stronger willed woman who gave ‘the nuptial kiss’ might manage to hold on to the last drops of their husband’s seed, planting it inside their quims to beget sons and heirs. I had neither the parts nor the willpower, so my tongue was left to wander the hidden crevices of his foreskin.

“You look pregnant again,” Valf cupped my swollen belly, “Seems I can fill you from both ends.”

I let him catch me in his arms, my knees finally giving way. He carried me back to our bed as I groaned and quivered. “Please fuck me, Valf…?” I whined, drunk off his nut.

“I’ll give you a finger…” he slipped his thick index finger into my mouth, “You’re too full for another load.”

While coating his digit with my saliva he slipped into bed next to me. He cradled my head against his bicep and parted my legs. I whorishly guided his hand down to my hole, gasping as his finger slipped inside.

“Cum for me baby,” he groaned at my ear, “Cum on Daddy’s finger.”

“We can’t stay,” Valf circled my navel with his fingers, “We have to go further into the forest.”

I snuggled into his warmth, “I know.”

It was said The Children first attacked from the South. That they raised an army of infatuated men and stormed throughout all creation; pillaging, raping, and indoctrinating wherever they went. To hear their voice was to know evil and to know evil was to become one with The Children.

Valf kissed my cheek “Are you frightened?”

“No,” I blushed, and placed my chin against his shoulder, “I have you to keep me safe.”

“Flatterer,” he chuckled, “But I fear even a Knight of the Starless Vale can be overcome in the deepwood.”

“The deepwood…” I shivered. It was a place out of myth and horrible fantasy; a shadowy, dark place. Children-spawn roamed there and many other treacherous dangers. “Let’s not speak of it. We are safe for now.”

“For now,” Valf agreed.

We laid together –  enjoying our last night of safety and respite – before journeying away from Timberseat and into the heart of the South. In another two weeks we would reach Last Keep, and from there our real journey would begin.

“Sleep well my love,” Valf rolled away to the far side of the bed, “And I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter Three

Valfred was not a particularly superstitious man, but he had been raised by Giants.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, trying to wake up for my turn at watch. The fire was burning low, and Valf sat on the far side of our clearing, cleaning his longsword. “Why do you polish it every night?” I asked lazily.

His response was laced with sarcasm, “To keep it clean.”

I stretched out on top of my bed roll, massaging away stiff muscles. “Surely it doesn’t get too dirty laying on your back all day.”

He looked up at the clear night sky, “My kin say one should always be armed in the presence of stars.” The giants held many ancient and rigid traditions, one of which was the dishonor of dying with a dirtied blade. A clean blade meant the warrior died either in a time of peace, or had time after a battle to prepare for death. A dirty blade meant a dirty death, and signified a warrior who had been defeated. Valf’s greatsword sang as he slipped it back into its sheath. “Besides, it helps me think.”

The nearby stream trickled gently, easing my mind as I reached out and made contact. I felt my power sink into the water and return energized and fresh. “Fair enough” I grinned, finally rising up and walking over to relieve him. “Sleep well, my knight.”

He grabbed me into his arms, grinning, “Just your knight?”

“No,” I grinned back, planting a kiss on his lips, “Not just my knight.”

“Give it to me…” Valf’s whisper burned my neck.

I groaned, arching my back almost painfully as he pushed into me, “I-I can’t!”

Making love to one as well-endowed as Valfred was no easy task, especially after a long day of riding. His tip was very thick – almost as wide around as a normal man’s clenched fist – and required much pre, foreplay, and luck to slip inside.

“Give me your quim…” He squeezed his cock, smearing an ample coating of pre up into my crevice. “Let Daddy make it sing…”

I held my cheeks open wide on the forest floor as he mounted me like a missionary. It wouldn’t be long until he was inside my first gate and my spine quivered with remembered sensations. He would fill me; stretch into new, exciting places I’d never shared with another.

“Just a little push…” he promised tenderly, “You can moan if you need to.”

It wasn’t painful, nor was it quite pleasurable. I squealed into his bicep as he fucked his meaty tip inside.

“It’s in,” he nipped my ear, “Now I want to hear you sing for me.”

One time, when I was early on in my apprenticeship, I had walked in on one of the masters as he entertained a lady-friend. He had propped her legs up over his shoulders and was humping her rapidly, but it was his fingers that caught my eye. They pressed down on her cunny, seeming to press a button that made her gasp. He urged her to cum for him, stroked her special spot; it was the most arousing thing I’d ever seen.

“Sing for me, baby,” Valf sank in to a comfortable length, “Let Daddy know when he’s found your spot.”

It was rare that I managed to get hard. I’d been frustrated the first time we made love, until he showed me a trick he’d learned in his youth.

“Is this your button, baby?” He pressed his fingers down on my taint and carefully began to fuck me. The pressure from both his fingers and his cock was tantric, especially when he found that special spot in my-

“Valf!” I groaned, pleasure blossoming throughout my groin. “Right there!”

“Yeah?” he flashed a cocky grin and applied more pressure, “Sing me a song about it.”

I writhed in his arms as he worked his magic on my smaller, weaker body. He got off on every high-pitched whimper forced from my lips; keeping his fuck-strokes shallow and short. My pussy screamed with pleasure even though my cocklet stayed soft and dry.

“You want to cum, I can feel it,” he shook his head lovingly, “Just let it happen.”

My lips parted almost exactly as my pelvis began to shake, “Vaallf…?” My whole cunny trembled and flexed in delicate climax.

He didn’t waste the opportunity, taking advantage of the momentary fluctuations in my gash to fuck himself past my second, and final, layer of defenses. “That’s the whole cock, baby.” I could feel his giant’s skin pressing into me as he bottomed out.

I was always speechless when he was this deep. The tip of his girth was visible in my belly, and reminded me of how intimate our lovemaking truly was.

“Want my nut in you, baby?” he grunted, grabbing my throat with his massive hand, “Gonna make your whole cunny swell with it.”

Valfred had been extremely possessive lately, wanting to fuck almost nightly.

“I like seeing your belly,” he finally admitted after our third night in a row, “I like how it makes you blush all day; how you cradle your stomach while we ride.”

I tried to jerk him off another night, while our dinner was boiling on the fire. He would have none of it.

“I don’t want your hand,” he pulled me into his lap, “I want your pussy.”

We were still a three-day ride from Last Keep, and I couldn’t say no to him. He took me from behind, so my belly could hang low and ripe with his fruit. I had stopped eating halfway through our journey, because he was keeping me full. I didn’t even need to clean as the only thing inside me was his deposit.

His fuck-strokes were slow and deep, “Look at what my cock did,” he caressed my rounded stomach, “Daddy’s nut made you all round… soft…”

To keep my thighs and saddle from getting sticky during the day, I’d taken to wrapping up a small piece of cloth and inserting it in my hole. Valfred’s chest puffed with pride when I took it out the first time, and he insisted that I kiss it while we made love.

“Hear how sticky you are?” he grunted, his cock slipping and sliding, “Daddy keeps you wet all day.”

I loved our time together in the woods. We weren’t knights or priests, we didn’t have urgent missions to attend to. We were simply lovers.

Warmth flooded out of his length and into my belly, “Fuck!” he groaned, hilting me with his last few strokes. “Look what you made Daddy do!”

It would almost be a shame when we finally arrived.

Chapter Four

Last Keep was a desolate and bleak castle. It was tucked into a small outcropping of rock; rock that had naturally hewn a small glade in the otherwise thickly wooded forest.

“Cheerful place,” Valf lamented upon our approach, “Makes me long for the deserts of home.”

The commander of the keep was a gluttonous man, embarrassing enough to the Southern army’s leadership to post him at the very cusp of the realm. He was easily in his late fifties, and his gut protruded out almost to his knees. He was not fat in a jovial or charming way, and his face was weathered with signs of cruel boredom.

“Never seen a North-wretch here before,” he scoffed as we approached his throne, “You’re a long way from home.”

With a snap of his fingers, he summoned a chamber-boi in from the adjacent room. The boi could not have been more than twenty, and was gaunt beyond all reason. His lord must have been starving him, possibly for sport.

“See,” the cruel little man continued, “I already have a wench.”

The room was lined with misanthropic guards who seemed to have no interest in securing the keep or their lord. Instead, many of them drank or looked on with cruel amusement as the master of their keep eschewed curtesy and openly mocked his guests.

I suppressed a desire to wretch and summoned my courage, “Your boi can rest easy, I’m not here for his job.”

“Did you hear that boi?” the lord of Last Keep chuckled, “You get to keep your job. Aren’t you lucky?”

The guards leered and chortled, enjoying their master’s hateful humor.

The boi looked broken, “H-how may I be of service m’lord?”

“Give us a kiss,” the man wiggled lustily in his chair, “Show your commander proper respect.”

I could feel rage radiating off of Valfred. As a knight, he was unused to observing cruelty without the opportunity to right it, and if I were not in the room he would have torn the brutish man’s head from his shoulders.

“Yes m’lord,” The boi knelt between his commander’s bugling thighs, fumbling with his clasp before freeing his torturer’s manhood. It quickly passed the boi’s lips, with no small amount of laughter from the guards.

The commander returned his attention to me, “As you can see,” he grinned, “I’m a rather busy man, and have no time for foreign whores. What is your business here?”

As a Keeper of the Mother, I had traveled to all five realms and seen my share of debauchery and malice. The unfortunate truth was that this beast of a man was the rule, and not the exception. I suppressed my own desire to deliver justice and focused on the mission ahead.

“We travel to the deepwood on urgent business,” I stepped forward and offered my official documentation, “On orders from both the Empress and your own High Lord.”

The boi made a delicate gagging noise as his commander sat forward. The lord didn’t seem to notice, “Very well, it seems your documents are in order.” He passed the papers back, “You are welcome in Last Keep for the night. Make sure you don’t stay overlong.”

I bowed, “You have my word, Commander.”

“The barbarism of Southern lords is, apparently, not exaggerated!” Valf bent over our bed, stretching his weary riding muscles. “You said nothing to him! That poor boi…”

My head hurt from arguing, “We are surrounded by his men, what would you have me do? Denounce a lord in his own keep?”

“Some lord…” Valf grunted.

I sat on the edge of the bed, tucking my knees under my chin and hugging my calves. It had been a long day, made longer by the commander insisting we eat with him and his men. The food had been served by a fleet of young servants – most likely vagrants or orphans – all of whom cowered before their Commander.

They wore scant clothing and many featured fresh welts and whip marks on their flesh. Throughout the meal they had been taunted by the lord’s guards, one of the lads even used as a chamber pot so his lord ‘didn’t have to get up from the table.’ Last Keep was some kind of sadistic hell.

“Hey,” Valf slipped a kind arm around my shoulders, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t blaming you…”

I teared up; hating myself for the rush of weakness, and grateful for Valf’s warmth. “I’ve seen worse,” I admitted, “Sometimes it makes me think we deserve the children.”

“Shhh…” Valf hugged me close, “Don’t think about the past. It can’t hurt you.”

It was tradition in the courts of the East to keep all the major priesthoods on as advisers.  Patrons of the Father were known for their aggressive fire magic and the priests or priestesses of that order often advised on military matters. Readers of the Sky were revered mathematicians and only admitted women into their ranks. The air and storm magic they commanded kept order in many a city, and thus they most often advised on city planning. Singers of the Earth were most akin to bards, but their deep understanding of earth and hearth magic made them natural advisers on farming and other civilian matters.

I, however, was a Keeper of The Mother, an order known for its immense knowledge on diplomacy, nobility, water magicks, and healing. Fresh out of my training, I was sent to advise The lord of the Starless Vale, a respected house far to the East.

The young knight sent to escort me was not human. Clearly of giant’s blood, my tall bodyguard was a measure in both courtesy and knightly charm. I hoped all of the knights and nobles of the Starless Vale would be so chivalrous.

“Have you traveled much, Sir Knight?” I asked him too eagerly, “It must be wondrous to travel the lands so freely!”

“I have traveled in service of my Lord,” he responded in a measured and polite tone, “and yes, it is a wondrous land out there.”

“What were you thinking of, my love?” Valf kissed me on the cheek as we prepared for bed.

I bit my lip, focusing on the present and trying not to drift into the nightmares of the past. “I was thinking of our first journey together.”

“Oh?” he pulled me close to him under the covers, “It’s not wise to think about such sad things…”

“Our old master…” I buried myself in his chest, “I can still feel the lash of his whip sometimes.”

Valf squeezed me gently, “Shhh… baby. Go to sleep.”

Chapter Five

“P-please, my lord…”  A branding iron burned in the dim light of the Starless Keep’s dungeons, glowing as hot as the sun. Why did he want to hurt me…?

“So young,” The mind-sick man massaged my flesh, “Your ‘Mother’ can’t help you down here.”

I winced as the poker approached my skin, voice catching in my throat, “N-no…”

“Hey, baby.” Valf shook me awake. “It was just a dream.”

We were already a full day’s ride from Last Keep, but the malice of that place hung to my consciousness like a thick fog. I must have cried out, dreaming of evils I’d hoped were long forgotten.

“I’m sorry,” I stretched in my bedroll. “It may be the evil we’re riding toward, or maybe it’s the evil we’ve just ridden from… Whatever it is, I can’t seem to shake it from my dreams.”

Valf put a finger to his lips, “Listen.”

As we entered the outskirts of the Deepwood, the trees grew closer and closer together. Our path wound through the wood, following ancient rune-stones carved into bare rock. They kept the forest from growing over the road, the only signs that man had ever ventured this far South.  Nothing here felt right, and Valf had a wary look in his eyes.

“I know not about the path before us,” he whispered, “But the path behind us has many eyes.”

I relaxed my mind, flexing my water-sense. There was a small stream East of our camp, but through it I could sense nothing. Even the water here was foul.

Returning my attention to the clearing I whispered my response, “The water here is too corrupted or too far for me to commune with.” Rising from my bedroll, I began to draw runes in the ground. In time, small pools of water would seep up from the earth, allowing me a small arsenal should fighting erupt. I could weave shields of frost, or launch icicles at distant foes. In great need, I could even summon a construct of ice to defend, or break, the enemy’s lines.

“I think we should move on,” Valf cautioned, “Whatever is out there is getting closer, and its woodcraft is better than mine.”

I swallowed my gasp, “Children-spawn?”

A dread silence fell over our little camp and the wood seemed to grow thicker around us.

Valf shot me a perilous glance, “I’d rather not stay and find out.”

We rode hard for the next few days, but, to our dismay, whatever lurked behind us was gaining ground.

Our problems didn’t end there, “We have to stop.” I cried, leaping from my horse. Ever since we’d entered the forest, the glacial spell caging The Children had begun to weaken. In my darkest thoughts I swore I could hear their whispers…

“Patryk?!” Valf slowed his stallion several paces behind me. “We have to keep moving!”

Heat radiated from the satchel under my robes, “I need water!” I glanced back at him helplessly, pulling out the crystalline orb. “Their prison is weakening; the Children could escape!”

“God’s damn it…” he furrowed his brow, “I will stay with the horses. Work your magic quickly!”

I ran into the woods, seeking out the stream that lay nearby. The prison was warming, despite my best efforts to maintain The Mother’s magic. If I didn’t get to a water source quickly, the spell could fail!

Strange noises filled the forest; the hooting of owls, the cawing of crows. They were unnatural sounds, much like-

“Let us… out…”

I stopped dead in my tracks. Looking down, I was captivated by the malicious swirl inside the center of the orb.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Was that a man’s voice? It sounded familiar. “Oh, little-bitch of The Mother, where are you!?” it taunted.

“I know that voice…” I focused my memory. The voice belonged to the commander from Last Keep, what was he doing in the forest?

“We have your Giant!” The commander called out, “Come back to your horses, we only want to offer you a bit of Southern ‘hospitality.’”

From the jeers and laughter, I could tell he’d brought most of his men for the hunt. I’d been a fool not to kill him sooner.

“You have five minutes to show yourself, or I’ll feed your lover’s head to the forest!”

Valfred… When I had been a prisoner in his lord’s dungeon he’d come to my rescue. I couldn’t just leave him….

“Let us… help you…” The dark voice of the Children whispered from their cage. “We can be… sweet…”

“Shut up, shut up!” I snapped. The choice between love and duty was never easy. Valfred would want me to run, he would have told me that surrender meant failing our mission; failing the realm.

“Four minutes,” the commander laughed, “Little love is lost on giants, they say…”

“I’m so sorry Valf,” I drug my unsure feet back in the direction of the horses, concealing the Children’s prison in my robes. “Forgive my weakness…”

“Ah,” The commander sneered as I emerged from the woods, resting his fat frame on the back of a large stallion. Valf was on his knees, surrounded by a tight circle of Southern soldiers. “Looks like love truly conquers all.”

“What do you want from us?” I eyed the clearing warily, knowing that I was outnumbered and outmaneuvered.

“My wench had an unfortunate fall the morning you left,” The commander reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a blood soaked package. “Would you believe it? His neck fell right against my sword!”

Amid the laughter of his men, the commander tossed his package forward. It rolled towards me, unwrapping itself as it tumbled. Inside was the head of the unfortunate lad, already starting to decompose.

“So you see,” the commander continued, “I believe I have need of your ‘services.’ What say you do your duty to the realm, and come on home with me? I’ve never had a northern whore before.”

I made eye contact with Valf, noting the bruises and scrapes that already covered his face. There was no way to save him if it came down to a fight. I placed my hands above my head, “Very well, I’d b-be happy to serve, my lord.”

“Very good,” he chuckled, motioning one of his men forward. The lumbering commander dismounted from his horse even as my hands were bound. “But I only have room at my Keep for one whore.”

“No!” I screamed as he drew his blade, “I’ll serve you, but you let him go!”

“Shut up, whore.” He spat on the ground. “A real Man is speaking.”

Time stood almost still. The commander’s blade was raised high above his malevolent head, and as it descended I was helpless to do aught but watch. Valfred never shut his eyes; looking upon me only with pity and sadness. A knight should not die on his knees.

“There,” the commander panted, tired. He kicked Valfred’s severed head jovially, “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. You can focus on your new master.”

Rage curdled in every fiber of my being. I reached out into the forest, searching desperately for any weapon. Anything I could use to end this evil man and his tiny dominion.

“Let… Us…” The Children’s song was so sweet. “Let us help… you…”

I grinned wickedly, releasing the magic imprisoning my new ally. “Commander?”

He looked down at me warily, a sense of foreboding filling the minds of all those present.

Dark tendrils whipped out of my robes in every direction. The men were easy targets; flesh tore apart like paper, minds broke as easily as glass.

I stepped forward, darkness spiraling around me as I changed. There was no Patryk, there were no Children, there was only us.

“We’ve always wondered,” our voice filled their minds, “Why is there so much pain in this world?”

The commander was on his knees, trembling as our magnificence overwhelmed him. He was a pitiful creature; one we would enjoy dominating.

“It’s men,” we grinned.  “Don’t you see? You are what hurts this world. You are the infection.”

Loud groans filled the air as we began our work. The men left alive in the clearing were important. We could… stimulate them, exploit their hidden pleasures and weaknesses. One by one they would join us. We would make them whole.

The commander’s fear turned to lust as we explored his body. His mind opening as we granted our most sacred gift. It would be beyond orgasm, beyond torture.

“Don’t worry, we can purify you,” we promised the men, “We won’t stop. We won’t relent.”

We stood over the body of the commander as our tendrils began their work. He, and the rest of his men, were violated. We sought out their most tender spots; their lips, their cocks, their nipples. Some enjoyed having their toes massaged, and others preferred a firm tentacle around their throats. Each had his own, personal weakness to exploit. We whispered to their minds and used their secrets against them.

“Don’t be afraid,” We whispered directly to the commander. One of our tendrils wrapped around his tongue in an intimate french-kiss while a group of thin tentacles slithered and stretched around his cock. We selected the smallest one and allowed it to slip inside his urethra. He stared up at us, eyes glazed with fear and wonder as we tickled his every fancy. “Just stop resisting.”

We were no longer the Children, and we were no longer human. “We will save you all.” We promised, enjoying our captives' bliss as they began to break, “We will save the world.”

Chapter Six

The Starless Vale wasn’t the glorious bastion it had been in the days of the Children’s War, but it maintained a desolate sort of beauty. As I jogged past the palace’s guards I took in the arid landscape; the early morning sun hadn’t yet peaked over the valley’s crest and the moon was still high in the sky. Had I not seen it thousands of times before, the visage would have been breathtaking.

“My lord?” Wisteria, Reader of the Sky, and one of my most trusted advisors called to me from the far end of the battlements. She was a powerful woman in her mid-thirties, sculpted physically from mastering the Aether, a form of martial yoga revered by her sect. Despite her obvious strength, it was her svelte mind that I had come to rely upon.

“Good morning,” I called, slowing my pace as I approached her. “What news?”

“The city sleeps,” she smiled wryly, “Few of them, it seems, have the endurance or discipline to wake when their lord does.”

She and I had been friends in adolescence, and we maintained a more casual working relationship since I’d inherited the Vale from my late father. It had been a fel time for all living in the palace. A madness had crept into my father’s scull over the course of many years, and his rule sickened as he did. I was grateful for the support Wisteria had shown me, both before and after my ascension to the throne.

“I can see the city,” I raised an eyebrow, “I mean what news of our friends?”

Her gaze darkened, and she seemed unwilling to speak, “My Lord… I can no longer see them.”

Valfred, my stoutest knight, and Patryk, my Keeper of the Mother, had been summoned to the Imperial Court by order of Queen Marina II. It had been some months since they journeyed out, and I expected them to have returned by now. Wisteria kept the Sky’s gaze on them as they journeyed to the capitol, and then again as they traveled swiftly Southward.

“I lost sight of them as they approached Last Keep,” she continued, “The skies there have too many stars, and I am no longer able to see them clearly.”

“So it’s true then,” I mused warily, “They journeyed to the Deepwood.”

“Please, Hadrian,” the boi’s supple tongue licked playfully up my shaft. “Let me kiss you…”

Since the Children’s War, when all of humanity had been forced to the brink of extinction, it had been customary here for men to lay with men and women to lay with women except for procreation. Legend held that, in our darkest days, all of mankind lived within the shelter of the Vale, and we daren’t increase the population til the Children had been pushed back.

I grabbed my chamber-boi, Cecil, gently by the chin, “You have such beautiful lips, but I don’t want kisses…”

The brown-eyed beauty ginned mischievously, “Then what is it my lord desires?”

Using my strong biceps, I lowered myself down next to him on the bed and parted his silken thighs. “I desire a warm quim…” Kissing the back of his neck I let my fingers wander toward his bud. “Any idea where I might find one?”

He whimpered delightedly in my arms, resting his head against the bed. It was customary for a Lord to keep a chamber-boi, and Cecil had been my lover even before I inherited the throne. He was several years my junior, but was maturing slowly into his late twenties. As I grew into my full manhood, he seemed to stay soft and delicate.

“My lord,” he whispered as my girth found its target, “U-unlock me?”

It was also customary for The Lord of the Vale to keep his boi pure. His length had always been diminutive, but trapped inside its gilded cage it continued to shrink. My forbears had been virile cocks-men, and the cage was a symbol of a boi’s surrender to his lord.

“I’ve got all the cock you need right here,” I promised, sinking into his gash.

Once my tip was inside, I took a moment to prepare Cecil for the rut. I rubbed his nipples between my fingers, pinching and pleasuring them tenderly. His caged cocklet was warm from body heat and dribbled juice from a small, jewel encrusted slit at the tip.

He tightened appreciatively around my length and bit into one of the bed’s many soft pillows.

That’s when I felt it. A sudden wash of lust-addled euphoria blossomed over Cecil’s frame and I was able to sink in past every conceivable defense. The entirety of my love was inside him; eight and a half inches of noble meat stretching his twat to its limits.

“D-don’t unlock me,” he groaned, once again reveling in the pleasure his subservience could bring.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I promised.

Cecil slept soundly in our bed, cheeks ever-so-slightly flushed from our exertions. I fondled the key around my neck, unwilling to believe the amount of trust and adoration the boi gave me willingly. It had been one thing to be the lord-apparent’s lover; blowing off steam behind the stables or in the dark recesses of the library. Becoming my chamber-boi, however, came with many restrictions, the least of which was now clamped tightly around his length.

I always made sure he came. Beyond that, I always made sure he knew I would unlock him if he used the safe word. I wasn’t my father; I didn’t find sadistic pleasure in torturing those precious to me.

The night sky was dark and starless, as it always was here. With my lust sated and my lover sleeping peacefully, I rose and wandered over to the window. Looking out across my humble, starless kingdom I felt a sudden wash of responsibility. These were my subjects, and they needed protection.

Why had the queen ordered my most loyal servants into the South? Both Patryk and Valfred had been present at the time of my father’s death, but neither spoke of it. In the three year since that tragic night, the only details I’d managed to uncover were horrific. My father had maintained a vast dungeon, and there were many still recovering from his almost surgical malevolence.

“H-hadrien?” Cecil sat up lazily in bed, wincing pleasantly at the pressure in his hole. When I’d finished inside him, I’d bent him over my knee. Slowly, I’d filled his precious quim with thick, golden beads. They were tied together on a long silver chain and had been wrought with very powerful magics.

“Sleeping well?” I cooed, lowering myself back into bed.

“H-ow…?” His toes curled as he pressed against me. “I dreamt of you… of us.”

“I know,” I kissed his cheek, “The dreams felt good, didn’t they?”

He shivered into my shoulder; a delicate and trusting gesture. The toy I’d inserted into him was all the rage in the Imperial city. When activated by the seed of the giver, they could have many wonderful effects. This particular chain gifted the user with erotic dreams about their partner, until their fuel was all used up.

At a back alley in Stellis, the capitol, I’d watched a beefy Giant use a funnel to fill a boi with gallons of spooge before inserting the beads. With a clever spell, we were able to witness the boi’s dreams as seven swarthy men – the crew of a ship who’d donated their ‘gift’ for the evening – made passionate love to him as he slept.

“Yes,” Cecil, squeezed my hands appreciatively, “I love it. I don’t ever want you to take them out!”

“That would be a shame,” I shook my head with mock sadness as I reached between his thighs. Finding my mark, I began to slip the chain from his ever-tight pussy, “Then I couldn’t fuck you anymore.”

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