Answered Prayer

Dr. Polidori is in his room, horrified, satisfied and aroused by what he has finally just done with Byron. His mind keeps ranging back to the small scourge he keeps under his bed for moments of crisis such as this. Finally, he can’t take the internal torment anymore, and he rummages past the things that have collected under his bed for the instrument. Soon, he is reciting the mea culpa and flagellating himself. Unfortunately, it’s very hard to flog yourself quietly…

Byron opened the door quietly and watched the spectacle for a few minutes before clearing his throat.

"Ideo precor beátam Maríam semper Vírginem--" He times his blows to match the words, and Byron's throat clearing falls during a quiet moment. Startled, he drops the scourge and jumps, stifling his cry with a hand to his mouth. "My...my Lord! You startled me..." he says, quietly, eyes downcast, and bright red. He's panting a little, and his face is covered in a light sheen of sweat.

"Why are you flogging yourself, dear Poli?" Byron says patiently, folding his arms over his bare chest. He's wearing a robe, but it hasn't been tied, revealing absolutely everything.

Polidori can only stare, his mind absolutely blank at the dual prospect of explaining himself and of Byron's cock.

"Well?" Byron raised an eyebrow. "Is this just masochistic joy or are you punishing yourself for some sinful deed?"

"I--I--" he croaks, shoving the scourge under the bed, as if by hiding it he can make it go away. He's beginning to get chilled.

"Is this because we've fucked now?"

"Please leave," he says, very quietly.

"Why? Is this a private flogging?"

The statement is so absurd that Polidori gives a brief, startled burst of laughter, before collecting himself again. "I...I'm sorry if the noise disturbed you," he says, as calmly and rationally as he can.

"Answer me, Poli. Are you punishing yourself or just enjoying?"

Byron demanded.

"Yes," he says, the word coming out as a pained, reluctant gasp.

"Which one?"

"You know which one."

"Ah. What have you done this time, you sinful lech?" he smirked.

"What?" he gasps. "You--you know very well what I've done!"

"Because we've fucked? And you think you can flog yourself hard enough to punish yourself for that?" Byron grabbed the scourge from under the bed. "Would you like me to hit you properly?" he grinned like he was baring his teeth.

Polidori's eyes go wide with shock and, yes, terror...and his cock hardens, only adding to the absurdity of the situation. He falls backwards, catching himself on his hands, still on his knees.

Byron burst into laughter. "Well?"

He can only stare at the man standing over him, speechless again.

Byron raised the scourge and brought it down on Poli's back hard.

Polidori shrieks, his back arching and hands clawing as though he's cumming, his cock rising until it's resting against his stomach.

Byron chuckles, his own cock hardening at the masochist's reaction. "You like that?" he murmured.

"...yes..." he gasps, staring up at Byron, hands nearly touching the other's feet as he's on all fours.

"Kiss my feet." Byron demanded, raising the scourge and bringing it down across Poli's shoulders.

Polidori screams with wild ecstasy, and slides across the rough floor on his knees, lowering his lips to Byron's feet, kissing frantically.

The scourge arcs and connects again with his back with a wonderful snapping sound. Byron wasn't lying about being able to hurt him properly.

Polidori's hands are clenched so tightly that his nails are digging into his palms, but he hardly notices--his attention is all on the feet in front of him, and the delicious agony of the scourge across his back and shoulders. It does feel much better than when he does it himself.

"Suck my cock, Poli." Byron tells him after maybe twenty lashes. His cock is now fully hard and he can hardly stand to have Poli kissing his feet when his cock is demanding attention.

Polidori lifts himself, rather stiffly and painfully, to oblige. As satisfying as kissing the feet was, taking the engorged cock in his mouth is thousands of times better. He rests a hand on each of Byron's thighs to steady himself, braced for more blows.

Byron hits Poli more carefully now, though still hard enough that he's raising red welts across the man's back. He just doesn't want his cock getting bitten.

Polidori tries to feel Byron's muscles moving, so he'll know when the other is about to land a blow and not accidentally bit his cock off, and he's completely lost in the sensations of sucking and being expertly beaten.

Byron grabs Poli by the hair with one hand, keeping him steady in his motions and forcing his cock deeper into the other. With his other hand he arcs the flogger through the air until the tips bite against Poli's tender skin. His entire back and shoulders are red now, welts crisscrossing the area.

Polidori groans around his mouthful, arching his neck to test how far he can extend with the hand in his hair, eagerly leaning forward again to reach along the shaft, giving a stifled cry as the scourge strikes.

Byron forces Polidori's mouth all the way to the base of his cock, groaning. He bends over the other so his abdomen is pressed against Poli's forehead, the scourge reaching the other man's bare buttocks now.

Polidori helplessly wraps his arms around the other man's middle, pressing himself close, groaning in a fierce, desperate rhythm, as the scourge reaches this new area.

Byron curls the implement and snaps it over the tender white flesh, starting to cum in the back of Polidori's mouth.

Polidori struggles a bit as he tastes the unfamiliar substance, lifting his ass to meet the scourge.

Byron whips the flogger over Polidori's ass one last time as he orgasms, then drops it on the floor, pulling himself back from the other man's mouth.

Polidori screams all the sounds that had been trapped by the cock, clinging to his Lord and passionately kissing his firm stomach.

Byron chuckled, looking down at Poli with a smirk. "Feel better, or do we need to whip more sin out of you?"

"...ahhh..." he gasps, looking up Byron's chest at the man standing above him.

"Did you swallow my cum?"

"...yes..." Polidori says, eyes unfocused. He's swaying a bit, supported by Byron's hips.

Byron pulls him to his feet by a hand and his hair, helping him to the bed and sitting with him.

Polidori leans against him, head resting on Byron's shoulder, face turned to him with rather a guilty expression.

Byron laughs, "Still feeling guilty, are we?"

"Always," he says with a dramatic sigh, smiling.

Byron slapped him.

"Ah!" he cries, clapping a hand to his face, shocked. He looks at Byron with a hurt expression.

Byrrn chuckled, laying back on the bed and yawning. "Feel better now?"

Polidori hesitates for a moment before laying on his bed next to his lover. "...yes?" he says, not sure of the right answer.

"Oh Poli," the handsome man sighed. "You really should answer honestly."

"...mostly I just feel confused." He insinuates himself onto Byron's shoulder.

"So I shouldn't play into your masochistic desires?"

"Ah...I didn't..." he feels rather trapped by this conversation...although most conversations with this infernal man are traps.

"Speak up then."

"You should...do what you want..." he attempts.

"I always do," he chuckled.

"I'm glad..." he snuggles happily against the other.

Alban and Sitri

Alban's Master has left for his yearly private purification ceremony, leaving Alban with strict instructions of things to do and to NEVER EVER do while he's away. Naturally, it's been raining for three days straight, and Alban is very, very bored. He begins flipping through some of the books that he's been forbidden to even look at, gazing at pictures of demons. "‘Sitri...under the conjurer's request he changes into a very beautiful man’...huh, that's an odd request..." He laughs, and glances over the summoning ritual. Just for practice, he decides to try the ritual, and draws the necessary mystical diagrams, chants the required words, and stops short of the final step--spilling a drop of his blood. Until, of course, the cat, startled by the smell of herbs burning, claws Alban's hand...

With a puff of golden smoke, a leopard-faced creature appeared. Its eyes fixed on Alban and its lips drew back in what might have been a smile, or a snarl.

Alban screams and stumbles backwards, smudging one of the protective lines meant to hold the demon in as he does so.

The demon's grin widened and it stepped boldly over the lines Alban had drawn on the floor.

The apprentice's eyes widen and he steps back until he hits the wall. "...you...you can't do that! You're mine!" he says, almost whimpering.

"You broke the circle." the creature grew taller, towering over Alban by a good two feet. "You're mine, boy."

In a moment of shocked clarity, Alban starts flipping frantically through the book, looking for a way to return the demon, shooting horrified glances at the creature standing over him every few seconds.

Sitri reached down and grabbed his wrists, forcing them over his head and leaning into the boy, pressing him back against the table.

Alban screams for help, knowing that there's no one around for miles to hear him. Except the cat, who gives him an 'I told you so' look and jumps out the window. "Agh! I s-summoned you! You have to obey me!"

"You summoned me... with the help of a cat. And you broke your circle." Sitri chuckled, pulling his leopard face back to reveal a beautifully androgynous human face. "Did your master not teach you about demons?"

Alban shakes his head, mesmerized by the demon's beauty despite the danger. "N-no...we hadn't gotten that far yet..."

Sitri pressed into Alban harder, the line of his body working into the young man. Alban suddenly realized he was naked and the demon's free hand was sliding down his back to rest under his ass.

"Where did my clothes go?!" he asks, saying the first thing that comes into his head, realizing it doesn't make much sense.

"Didn't you read about me in that book of yours?" Sitri purred. "I'm not just any demon." he lifted Alban onto the table abruptly, spreading his legs and pulling the boy towards him. Suddenly Alban was very aware of the tall demon's swollen cock, nudging up against Alban's anus.

Alban doesn't quite understand what's happening, but part of him realizes he wants nothing to do with it, and he tries to push himself away across the table, staring in horrified fascination at the huge, swollen cock staring at him.

Sitri pulled the boy back again and the first few inches of his cock slid into Alban.

Alban screeches and claws the demon's chest before he goes limp, his upper body collapsing backwards onto the table, kicking feebly with his legs.

Sitri laughed, grabbing Alban's hips and forcing his way deeper, cock colliding with the boy's prostate forcefully.

Alban's eyes go wide again, for a rather different reason and he watches his cock harden of its own accord.

Sitri smiles down at the boy, his inhumanly large cock driving against Alban's nerves again and again, finally brushing deeper until he was sheathed in the boy and Alban thought he might burst.

Alban screams, nails digging into his palms with every motion of the demon's cock. "Please don't kill me!" he shrieks, tears running down his cheeks, his cock throbbing.

Sitri leaned down and bit the boy's chest, leaving a bloody bitemark around his nipple. He purred and growled with pleasure, finally finishing in Alban, his seed almost hot enough to burn.

Alban lays flat on the table, panting, biting his lip at the pain of the seed filling him, almost too exhausted to react to the bite.

Sitri bent down, taking the boy's cock in his mouth. He carefully wrapped his sharp teeth to protect the boy's cock as he sucked and licked at it.

Alban gasps, pushing himself up from the table to see what's going on, supporting himself on shaking arms. He closes his eyes, hips bucking rhythmically without conscious thought.

Sitri cupped the boy's ass as he sucked, allowing Alban to move however he pleased.

Alban tightens and loosens the muscles of his ass, enjoying the warm, almost hot rough hands on his soft skin, moaning with abandon.

The demon met Alban's eyes, delicately grazing his teeth up the boy's shaft.

The boy gasps, eyes locked on the demon's, his mouth gently open. "...why..." he murmurs.

Sitri sucked the head of Alban's cock, scratching down his ass and thigh.

"Ahhh...." Alban gasps, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Sitri's head, burying his face in the demon's hair.

He felt Sitri chuckle all through his body, the demon's fingers stroking the red marks he left.

Alban happens to clench his ass during his movement, and the feeling sends him over the edge. He frantically bucks at Sitri's mouth, not minding the sharp teeth.

Sitri catches Alban with a few teeth, but barely draws blood. He swallows the boy's cum, standing again to tower over the apprentice.

Alban looks up (and up) at the demon looming over him, his eyes wide with panic again. One hand strays to his lightly bleeding cock.

Sitri just smiles, then disappears in another puff of golden smoke. The bite over Alban's nipple starts to close over, leaving a strange golden scar.

Snake's First Time

Crow was very surprised when a messenger came from his old tribe-mate Badger, but he followed the messenger back to his friend's new tribe, carrying all of his ceremonial gear as he was requested.

Badger was waiting for him on his porch, his six-toed feet stretched out, smoking a pipe. He smiled when he saw Crow, standing to greet his old friend.

Crow smiles back, dropping his bundles and grabbing his much heaftier friend in an embrace. "Badger! Or should I say Shaman?"

Badger actually lifted his friend off his feet, squeezing him tightly in his customary hug. "I'm still just Badger to you, little Crow." he grinned. "How are you, my friend?"

Crow wheezes a bit at the enormous hug, smiling in a crushed sort of way. "Not so little anymore...I'm getting grey hairs," he sighs.

Badger touched his friend on the top of the head. "I'm still talking about your height." he teased. "But you certainly are older than I remember."

Crow frowns playfully at him. "You're not getting any younger," he says, poking Badger's gut with his carved walking stick.

Badger patted his round belly with a sigh. "Well, I don't do as much as I used to. I have an apprentice now, he's learning all the ceremonies and I sit here in my chair and smoke." he chuckled.

"Lazy old thing," Crow says fondly, sitting where Badger had been and deftly stealing his pipe. "Don't mind if I do."

Badger laughed, pulling out a spare and starting to pack it with tobacco. "Thieving Crow." he grinned. "And it wasn't even particularly shiny."

Crow gives a little bow, puffing for a few moments, before turning to Badger with a more serious expression. "So why did you have me haul all this all the way here?"

"Well, my apprentice is about to turn fifteen." Badger said, lighting his spare pipe, taking a few puffs.

"Ah," Crow laughs knowingly. "I remember that. You were so proud to be the first of us to have had sex. How little you knew." He grins at his friend, snuggling closer to him.

Badger grinned, pulling Crow in closer. "I was hoping you would perform the ceremony for me."

"...oh? Why is that? Fox-Shaman did you, didn't he?" He frowns quizzically at Badger's nethers, then leans in closer to interrogate them. "Are you not working?"

"Yes, it was Fox. And no, they work fine." Badger smacked Crow gently. "I've had this apprentice since he was five, he's like my son. It wouldn't feel right."

Crow leans back, serious again. "Ah. That makes sense. ...how are you going to explain this?"

"I've already told him that I would ask another shaman to do it. He knows how I feel."

"Ah, well that's less awkward, then. What's his name?"

"Snake." Badger chuckled. "And... another reason I called you here is because I know you'll be good for him." he said vaguely.

Crow laughs suddenly, imagining himself in animal form swooping off with a snake in his talons. "Oh?"

"He has two sets of genitalia, both male and female."

Crow raises an eyebrow. "He's alright, though? I mean...he can still have sex, right?"

"It might have to be anal, I'm really not sure." Badger shrugged. "You're still willing?"

"Yes, of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Badger kissed the top of Crow's head. "Thank you. How long can you stay?"

Crow rummages through Badger's pockets for interesting things. "As long as you need me," he says with a shrug.

"Hmph, more like as long as I can stand having you pocketing my things. I'll have to shake you upside down before you leave." Badger picked Crow up by his cloak and walking inside. Snake looked up when they came in from the herbs he was chopping.

Crow gives a little wave from his dangling position, before frowning at Badger, turning into a crow, and pecking his friend's hand to get loose.

Badger made a face, letting go of the now empty cloak and shaking his hand. "Snake, this is Crow."

The crow caws once, makes a brief, flapping circle of the lodge, and then landing as Crow. "...not the most dignified entrance," he grumbles. "Hello, Snake."

Snake bowed. "Hello, Shaman-Crow."

"Oh, I'm not a Shaman, I'm just Crow. I'm flattered that you thought so, though." He smiles at the shy little boy. He walks closer to Snake, and gently takes his face in one hand, much more serious than usual. "Do you know why I'm here? ...maybe smelly Badger should leave for this conversation," he says, conspiratorially with a wink to Snake.

Snake flushed, looking simultaneously shy and eager. Badger grumbled, but turned and left.

Crow smiles, sitting on a cushion and gesturing for Snake to do the same. He watched the boy's reaction carefully, and isn't disappointed. He's not worried.

Snake sits close to Crow, hands on his knees. His heart is pounding.

"Shh, it's alright. Were you making tea when I arrived?"

He nodded. "Badger's favorite."

Crow smiles to himself. "Would you make us some?"

Snake nodded, getting up and taking the kettle off the fire, putting leaves into two cups and pouring the hot water over them.

Crow watches the boy carefully--it takes him some time before he notices the small breasts, and he finds himself quite intrigued by the mixture. He also notices the little crotch-bulge.

Snake comes back with the cups, giving Badger's cup to Crow and sitting back down next to the older man. He's still a bit flushed.

Crow sips his tea, watching the young man out of the corner of his eye. He slowly puts an arm around the boy's waist, making sure Snake is comfortable with the contact.

Snake nestles into Crow, resting his head on the other man's shoulder.

Crow smiles, and thinks how to proceed. "So...what has Badger told you?" he asks, generally.

"You're here for my coming of age ceremony. You'll be my first lover and you'll teach me ... things."

Crow hides a smile in his teacup. "Yes...did he tell you what sort of...things...we'll be doing?"

He nodded, flushed.

Crow tries to proceed gently, even though it's against his nature. "Things like this?" He plants a delicate kiss on Snake's lips.

Snake's eyes close and he kisses back, insinuating himself into Crow's lap.

Crow blinks in surprise at his new loincloth, but tenderly wraps his arms around the boy. He hadn't expected things to move quite this quickly, but...he certainly seems eager.

Snake's hands shyly trace Crow's bare chest, finally pulling back from the kiss to breath.

Crow remains still, letting Snake do what he wants, but showing that he's open to whatever the younger man wants.

Snake leans his head on Crow's shoulder again, kissing his neck gently. He wraps his arms around Crow's middle.

Crow laughs happily, stroking Snake's hair and trying to peek down the clothing on his upper body.

Snake grinned at the older man, sitting back a little bit to start undressing. He hadn't been naked in front of anyone but Badger in a long time, so he moved a bit slowly.

Crow grins back, undressing to match Snake's pace, devouring the boy with his eyes, showing how much he's enjoying what he sees.

Snake is soon naked, pushing his clothes to the side, his legs closed demurely, watching Crow undress eagerly.

Crow finishes undressing with a flourish, listening for sounds of Badger lurking about outside. He lays back on a nearby fur, presenting himself for Snake.

He can hear the sound of Badger smoking somewhere outside, so clearly his friend is still lurking. Snake straddles Crow, hesitating.

Crow is definitely surprised by how eager the boy is, so he scrabbles around for some oil. He's not really surprised that he finds some--he's known Badger his whole life. He gently lifts Snake and applies some oil to the boy's cock, and to his own fingers.

Snake moans, head tilting back. He lays back on the cushions, watching Crow lustfully.

Crow places Snake's hand on his own cock, examining both opening beneath it. He decides for the lower one--he's always been more into that, anyway--and carefully slides one lubricated finger inside. Normally he would do much more foreplay, but...

Snake groans happily, stroking his cock almost frantically. He arches into Crow's fingers, sliding himself further onto the digits.

Crow groans happily, and adds a second finger, curling and tugging on the soft, elastic flesh.

Snake gasps, head thrown back. He makes soft, pleading noises.

Crow licks his lips, a little nervous now. He places a hand on the boy's back to steady him, and slowly draws his fingers out. He then positions Snake over his cock.

Snake wrapped his legs around Crow, helping to draw the other in, crying out.

Crow gasps, almost holding Snake up so that he won't go to quickly and hurt himself. He fights to enter the boy slowly.

Snake grabs Crow's back, fingers clutching at the other as he writhes and bucks. He hisses with pain once, sitting up a little, but doesn't wait long before he's lowering himself again.

Crow eases back a little, stroking Snake's back more than holding him back.

Snake finally lowers himself completely down, Crow completely inside him. He kisses the other, body quivering. He drops a hand into his lap to start stroking himself again.

Crow groans, mostly holding still now, letting Snake ride him at his own pace, but he's definitely enjoying watching the boy above him.

It doesn't take long for Snake to reach his limit, clenching tightly around Crow and practically screaming as he came.

Crow is...not really finished...so he quickly thrusts while Snake comes to catch up, stroking the boy's back.

Snake collapses into Crow's chest, moaning as Crow thrusts into him. He's completely relaxed now, making it much easier for Crow to finish without hurting Snake.

Crow finishes as quickly as he can, then settles down on the fur, snuggling the boy up against him, sighing happily and listening for Badger-sounds again, now that it's quiet.

Snake curled up with the older man, happily nestled into his arms. He gives a big yawn, then starts to doze. Crow can hear Badger chuckling to himself outside.

Crow waits until the boy is asleep before gently dislodging him and going outside.

Badger is sitting in his chair. He offers Crow a pipe.

Crow takes it and puffs gratefully--mostly to hide his huge grin.

Badger waits in silence for almost a minute before he grumbles. "Well?!"

"Yes?" Crow says, quite innocently.

Badger grabbed him by his neck. "How did it go?" he glared.

Crow feigns alarm. "My goodness! Such violence!"

Badger starts to growl.

"Tut-tut...I see you haven't changed a bit," Crow smiles. "What do you want to know, exactly?"

"You know what I want to know, Crow. Tell me before I decide to make you into dinner."

"I'd be a terrible dinner. Haven't you ever heard the expression 'eat crow'? It's not a good thing. And I honestly don't know what you want to hear."

"Is he alright?"

"Yes, of course he's alright. He's sleeping. Keep your voice down, you great beast. Honestly, I'm not sure how you raised a boy."

Badger scowled, grumbling. "He's happy?"

"Yes. Very. Almost...too happy. I didn't have to do much, honestly."

Badger chuckled, "Good. Now I don't have to eat you, skinny Crow."

Crow sticks his tongue out at Badger, then grabs his friend's hand and munches on it. "Mmm, much better than Crow. Nice fat Badger."

Badger makes a face at him, pulling his friend into a semi-threatening hug.

Crow grins and allows himself to be squished.

Preparation

“Diego, I need you to help me prepare.” Camaxtli enters their room without warning, as always. He is holding a reed and a jug.

Diego, who had been drowsing, is instantly awake when the other enters. “Of course. How can I help?”

"I will show you." he said. He led Diego outside to their small yard, where he slid the reed into his anus -without bothering with any lubrication- he bled a little. "You pour water through the reed. Slowly."

Diego is quite shocked by this. “What is this for?” he asks, trying to keep his voice neutral--he doesn’t want to make Camaxtli feel like he’s insulting his beliefs.

"Purification, for certain ceremonies." Camaxtli let Diego pour all the water in. "Take out the reed." he told him. When he was done, Camaxtli dug himself a hole and covered it up when he was done squatting. "Where is Miguel?" he asked Diego, watching his sacrifice.

“I think he’s shopping,” Diego said, still a little startled by what’s just happened.

"I do not understand why he does that so often." Camaxtli said. "I won't need you for the sacrifice tonight. I'd like you to stay somewhere else until I come and get you."

“Are you sure? I thought you were preparing for a ceremony,” Diego asks.

"No." The Aztec laughed. "The god I sacrifice to tonight does not want human blood."

Diego wonders if feces can be sacrificed to a god. "Oh." The laughter startles him, and he's suddenly tempted to hug the other. He turns to leave instead.

Camaxtli grabbed him by the wrist. "I didn't say to leave yet."

Diego froze, nestling against Camaxtli, hoping the other won't notice.

Camaxtli pulled back his head, biting his neck none too gently.

Diego's neck and back arch, from startled pleasure. His cock grows erect.

Smiling like a jaguar, Camaxtli went to his knees, taking Diego's cock in his mouth.

Diego nearly cums on the spot, his head snapping backward, hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms.

Using his fingernail, Camaxtli cut a line down the length of Diego's cock, letting it bleed for a moment before lapping it up.

Diego cries out, the unexpected sensation ruining his last drop of control, adding semen to the blood.

Camaxtli drinks it, waiting until the blood had stopped flowing before standing again

Diego feels his knees go weak, his nails digging harder into his palms as he fights to stay standing.

Camaxtli brought him to their 'bed', pushing him down and laying with him.

Diego more or less falls, coiling as close to Camaxtli as possible.

Camaxtli pets the boy's hair, being surprisingly gentle.

"That was...unexpected..." he murmurs.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

Diego blushes. "That...act...I always thought it would be me performing it on you..."

"And why is that?" he seemed a little amused, but he wasn't smiling

"It...I always thought...was something done for a more...powerful man."

"Hm." Camaxtli bit his ear gently, pulling with his teeth.

Diego shivers, twisting over top of Camaxtli.

Camaxtli laughed again, clawing his fingernails down the other's bare back.

Diego alternately sprawls, twists and writhes, both seeking and avoiding Camaxtli's nails.

Camaxtli continues to claw him, wrestling almost playfully.

He bit the other's shoulder, growling a little.

Diego finally laughs as Camaxtli finds a ticklish spot, an open, boyish sound, much as he must have sounded when alive. It's been a long time since he laughed so freely.

He smirks, pinning the other and biting his shoulder all the way up to his ear. Camaxtli growls a little in the Spaniard's ear.

Diego honest-to-god giggles, murmuring a quick, breathy "Loveyou" into Camaxtli's ear.

Camaxtli actually purred, murmuring it back to him in nahuatl.

Diego understood the tone, if not the words. (Although Camaxtli's tone could occasionally be deceptive.) Cautiously he lick-nibbled his lord's neck.

Camaxtli stroked the other man's hair gently, closing his eyes, enjoying the feelings.

Diego yawned, his jaw cracking, into the easy silence. He grinned a bit sheepishly, making happy, sleepy murmurs.

"Nehua monequiltia-ti." he murmured again, laughing softly.

Diego tries to repeat it, stumbling heavily over the strange words.

"Hm. Try it again." he said, surprisingly patient.

The Spaniard grins softly, looking very young, very innocent and open. "I...like it when you're happy like this. With me." He rolls his head to gaze at the other man.

"Hmm, you've pleased me." he stroked Diego's hair out of his face gently.

Diego smiles, nodding. "Neh...nehua moneh...tequila. Tea."

Camaxtli chuckled softly, biting the other's ear again gently.

Diego gives a happy groan, rapidly drifting off. Sleep doesn't usually come to him easily, and he welcomes it.

The Aztec stays awake, stroking the Spaniard's hair softly and letting him sleep. He will wait for Miguel to return before moving Diego and performing his sacrifice.

Young and Old Shamans

Badger is humming to himself, stirring leaves into hot water for tea, when he hears a scuffling outside his shelter, and footsteps leaving in a hurry.

Little Snake shivers outside the large door. He's shaking, wrapped in a fur cape, his ankles bound with leather strips. He falls to his knees, trying to undo the knots.

Badger steps outside, frowning at the boy huddled by his door. "Hey! Boy! Don't you know this isn't a place to play? Go on--" he notices the binding. "...oh." He kneels to be less imposing, and cuts the strips with his knife. "Who did this to you?" he asks, more softly.

Snake froze, looking up at Badger with huge yellowish eyes. He squeaked with fear when Badger cut his bindings.

Badger chuckles. "It's alright, little one. I won't hurt you. Would you like some tea?"

Snake nodded, standing shyly. "I'm Snake," he said softly.

"It's nice to meet you, Snake. I'm Shaman." He thinks of inviting the boy in, but figures that might frighten him more. "Will you wait here while I get it?" Luckily, he had made soothing tea, because of the nightmare that had woken him. He's now almost glad of it.

Snake nodded, sitting again to work the remains of his bindings off. The big man was imposing, but seemed safe.

Badger is careful to move slowly and carefully and not startle the boy. He brings a container of tea and two cups. He gives one to Snake, and sips one himself, watching the boy. He's very curious, and his Badger-self wants to dig right into the problem, but he forces himself to be patient.

Snake watches as Badger putters about, shivering. He wraps his little hands around the cup and sips at the soothing drink. "Thank you, sir."

"Of course. Please, call me Shaman." He waits a little longer, then picks up the cut leather strips, running them through his large fingers. "...I understand if you're not ready, but...I'd like to know what this was about."

Snake lowers his head, shamefully, then shrugs off the cape, revealing his budding breasts and small penis.

Badger has seen enough mysterious things to keep his face neutral. He nods, then pulls off his moccasins. Each of his feet have six toes. He wiggles them, not saying anything.

Snake smiles a little, looking up at Shaman hopefully.

Badger smiles back. "My parents knew when I was born that I would be a Shaman. Would you transform, so I can see your animal form? Would you mind if I picked you up and made sure you're not hurt?" He doesn't want to make the boy uncomfortable by using the word 'examine'.

He shook his head, and suddenly in his place on the cape was a little green and black snake.

Badger very carefully and gently picks up the snake, stroking it with one finger, making sure it seems relaxed. He examines near the base of the tail. He's seen lots of snakes--all animals--alive and dead. Sure enough, this snake has the vent appearance of a female, and the claspers of a male. He puts the snake back on the cape. "Thank you." He figured that it would be less intrusive to look at him as a snake, and less obvious.

Snake changed back into a human, pulling the cape back over his shoulders and hiding his body. He wanted to ask questions of the giant man who was very nice to him, but he was far too nervous.

Badger nibbles his lip, not sure what to say. "I'm not going to ask you any questions right now, but if it's alright, I'd like to tell you a story, and you stop me if part of it is wrong, alright?" He's done this many times before, especially when helping younger members of the tribe.

Snake nodded, glad to have something simple and comforting like a story. He clambered into Badger's lap without prompting and rested against the big, warm chest to listen.

Badger is momentarily startled--he hasn't dealt with children very much, and they're usually very much in awe of him--but he smiles, and wraps an arm around the boy's thin chest, avoiding the small breasts. "Once, a mother and a father had a son. They were very happy, because he was their first child, and they loved him very much."

Snake nodded, not really sure where this story is going yet, but enjoying it anyway.

"When they took him to their Shaman when he was a few days old, the Shaman noticed that the child had both male and female lower parts." He pauses to watch Snake's reaction.

"Like me." he murmured.

Badger smiles. "Yes, just like you." He's pleased with himself, and continues. "The Shaman warned the parents that this was a special child, and that it might not live, but if it did, it would certainly become a Shaman itself. The Shaman also told the parents that they would have to decide if they wanted the child to be raised as a boy or a girl."

Snake nodded, seriously. "What did they choose?"

Badger is glad the boy can't see his expression, but he manages to only smile. "They decided that this would be their son, and they would raise him and take care of him, no matter what. So he grew older, and they weren't afraid that he would die from being different. But his parents didn't want everyone to know--they were afraid the others would hurt him or tease him." He's pleased by how seriously Snake is taking this.

Snake nodded, feeling worried for this fictional boy who's story is very much like his own.

"So they kept him covered, even when the other boys were naked, and he had to stay inside more than the other boys."

"They were worried about him."

"His parents were worried about him, you mean?"

"Yes." he nodded.

"Why were they worried about him, do you think?"

"He was different. They didn't want him to get hurt."

"Yes, that's a good reason to worry about someone you love. What do you think might happen next?" he asks, encouraged.

"My parents talked to the shaman a lot, but then he died so they didn't have anyone to help." Snake said wisely.

"That's a good idea. His parents talked to their Shaman, too, and the Shaman helped the family a lot before dying." He's not completely sure of the gender of the previous Shaman, having never met them. "But life still went on, until the boy started noticing changes. He started covering himself up even more, and his parents were worried." He wonders if the boy gets his bleeding, and decides to guess--if he's wrong, then he'll know. "He started to bleed between his legs, and he was very frightened."

Snake looked momentarily ashamed, but nodded.

"It was nothing to worry about, though, and it was perfectly natural," he adds quickly, feeling Snake's movement, then continues. "He grew hair like the other boys, and he hid the bleeding and didn't tell anyone...and he didn't die, so he wasn't quite so frightened, but he still didn't understand..." He's a little less sure from here, but he keeps going. "One day, his chest started to swell."

Snake looked up at Badger with big eyes, still nodding.

Badger softly strokes his hair. "At first he was very frightened by this, too, but he noticed that some of the girls his age were showing their chests off to each other." Something clicks in his head--maybe this is why the boy was brought here now?

The little child nodded again. "What happened then?"

"So he decided that he would show his chest, as well. The girls were very upset and ran away. The boy didn't know why. He went back to his parents and told them what had happened. They were very angry, and he didn't understand why."

Snake nodded. "I was never supposed to show anyone under my loincloth. But I'd been naked besides that before."

Badger wonders if Snake finally gets it, and gently pets the boy's hair again. "Were you just naked at home, or when you were outside, too?"

"Outside too. Most of the boys went naked, so I could be mostly naked too. There was never a problem until..." he peeked under his cape at his growing breasts.

"I understand," Badger says, kindly, wrapping the boy in his arms. "And then your parents brought you here?" he asks.

He nodded, suddenly realizing that Badger was just telling his story.

Badger smiles, gently turning the boy's face so they can see each other. "Well...you're safe here, now. No one will ever call you different again, or control how you dress."

Snake smiled up at the shaman, no longer afraid of this giant tattooed man. He wraps his arms around Badger's neck and hugs him.

Badger smiles down at his new little apprentice, at the same time wondering what on earth he's gotten into...

A Light Man in a Dark Place

It begins with running, sweating, panting. His idea of love and his idea of the hunt, the chase, are very similar. Oh, God, I had hoped I would never see him again. His hand is on the back of my neck, tangled deep in my hair, so I can't move. (Even if I wanted to). His knee is between my legs, grinding, almost to the rhythm of his over-quick heartbeat. It hurts, his face is so close to mine, his eyes, his mouth, his nostrils open wide with rage and triumph. His face is all I can see. His scent..I had hardly seen his face before. I hadn't wanted to. Not ever. I remember with my whole body, my hips moving to meet his grinding knee, and we both scream.

He screams like a jungle cat, one I've never seen, but heard every night in this terrible place. He's on his knees, dragged straight out in front of him by laughing monsters. Men I've known for months, spent every hour with. I never met them before today. This savage on the ground in front of me, I understand better. There's a hand on the back of my neck, tangled deep in my hair, not one strand different than it is now. "Fuck him," he says, pushing me down so I'm bent over his broad, dark back, like I never will be again. I pray to God and all the Saints that I will somehow get hard, somehow be able to convince them. Hating myself, this prayer.

We enter each other. My cock fills his already bleeding ass, his force offering. His knife enters my chest, creating an opening. Time collides with itself, our eyes lock, and I die at long last. I thank him with my last breath. This is all it took, after all this time. If only I had stayed and let him finish me, I could have been dust by now.

In the end it didn't matter. I woke, if that's what it is, in his arms. His mouth and arms were covered in my blood, his hair matted with it, his eyes wild with it. He watched me wake, this terrible, beautiful god-child. I couldn't believe how young he was...had been...

"You're mine," he said, with the certainty of death, the knowledge of God. And I was: and I have been.

He held me, and I cried, and prayed, and screamed. He showed as little comprehension as a statue, but he didn't move. Didn't push me away. Didn't kill me again.

Finally, perhaps to quiet the unbearable sounds filling my mouth, spilling up out of me, he kissed me, my blood filling my mouth and silencing me. He smiled, bitter and full of teeth as a cactus, and pushed me into the position he wanted. Kneeling, arms dragged out in front of me. I knew what he wanted, what he would take. And I wanted it.

I knew that it would finally make me complete.

I didn't move.

Jaguar Dreams

Butterfly wings hover over my face, my eyes, my mouth. I feel their delicate legs trailing over my flesh, waiting for me to move.

Wings spread, larger and larger, until all I can see are bright splashes and spots of colour, like looking at a jewel through water. The butterflies shift, restless, drawn to the massive god of their kind, wings, butterfly wings of unimaginable size, not seen, only felt, rip through my back, and I scream. The sound is lost in the wild beating of the countless smaller butterflies.

I begin to fly.

Back.

Back in time, back in place, back to where it began, hurled back on massive jewel-wings that have stolen me.

Steam rises in breath-stealing heat. It is early morning, and the sun has risen just enough to begin to burn the gods-given rain sent by the night. I remember, outside the dream, when I first came to this land. The other hated it, called it black, heathen, evil. They thought it would kill them (I suppose it did).

I had heard of a creature, a cat, like a leopard. But like nothing else, at the same time. The jaguar. It was worshiped as a god, I was told. I wanted to know why. I wanted to see a jaguar.

I didn't hate this place. See where it got me.

A jaguar, larger than any natural beast, and the cold colour of good jade, waits in a clearing. His fiery green eyes, set in a living stone face, stare upward. He sees me. Although I am high, high in the air, I can see him so clearly. Blood drips from his fangs. My blood. A horrible and intoxicating contrast to the green of his teeth and muzzle, the red, almost glowing in the pre-dawn light, pools and dribbles at his paws. The wings-that-are-not-mine tip, and we descend to the waiting god-cat. I don't know his name. Names are power, and I am powerless.

I clutch at the massive wings above me, shuddering at the velvet covered scales of the monster butterfly. I've never felt anything like it. I hope I never do again. I pull and tear, trying to make the relentless wings turn or halt. Anything but face the jaguar waiting below. Watching.

I may as well pull on my own arm. The wings that have sprouted from my back are not mine, but are as firmly attached as any part of my body.

We land. The jaguar ignores me, for the moment, watching the wings. After a moment, I again feel horrible pressure on my back. A moment of agony later, and the god-butterfly has pulled free, taking most of the skin of my back with it. The blood runs down my rump, down my legs, flows over my feet. I can hear it being called by the blood at the jaguar's paws, an almost-audible sound. They're both my blood, but the jaguar changed it. Whether it was mine to begin with, it's his now. The fresh blood from my back runs toward him, most unnaturally.

Small butterflies emerge from the trees, touching, caressing their god, checking it for injuries from my hands, or simply wanting to touch it, be one with it.

The gods begin to speak. It's like your language, the language of the gods, but more powerful. Each word is like a mouthful of the steam that still flows from each leaf, trailing skyward.

Even the jungle makes blood sacrifice, here.

Each word burns my mouth, nose, ears, eyes, like standing too close to a fire.

I close my eyes, cover my ears.

I must have lost consciousness in my dream. When I awake, the butterfly is gone. The jaguar and I are alone.

Shaman and Lynx

Lynx is crouching in the snow outside the Chief's shelter, waiting for the shaman to come out--this will mean the Chief is dead, and he will become Chief. He swallows nervously, wanting to rush in and ask the dying woman thousands of questions. "I'm not ready..." he murmurs to himself.

The shaman came out, pausing under the fur flap and holding it open so the spirit of their deceased Chief could escape from the fur covered yurt. He looked to the new Chief and knelt in the snow in front of him, bowing his head.

Lynx bows his head, then prostrates himself full length in the snow. He blinks back a tear of panic and loss--he had loved the old Chief.

Shaman stood, offering his Chief a hand out of the snow both literally and symbolically.

Lynx takes the hand, his face under control by the time he looks up. He glances quickly at the open yurt, nodding his approval. "I'm ready," he says, a little tensely.

Around them, other men were already preparing to burn the old yurt with the Chief's body still within, it would be her funeral pyre. Shaman led Lynx through the men with torches to the more reclusive and private yurt meant for the Shaman. He bound the fur flaps closed so that they would not be disturbed.

Lynx follows silently, carefully avoiding making eye contact with anyone he passes, as to do so would be a grave omen. He fights to keep his breathing calm and steady as he prepares to face the unknown. Sitting in the darkened yurt, watching Shaman lace the opening shut, it's all he can do not to stand and bolt. He hasn't had much to do with Shaman since his initiation three years before.

There was the sound of a bowl being slid under the furs and into the yurt. Shaman picked it up, motioning Lynx to a pile of black furs on the floor and crouching there himself. He took a knife and a skin of water from his belt, laying them down with the bowl. "Undress."

Lynx undresses unselfconsciously--this is hardly new--and lays back on the furs, hoping Shaman won't be able to tell that his eyes are closed in the darkness.

Shaman presses his lips to his Chief's skin, just under his navel. Soon after, he feels the cut of the knife carving the sun symbol he'd seen so often on their now passed Chief.

Lynx shivers at the touch of the knife, biting his lip to keep still and quiet, breathing deeply and evenly, nails dug into his palms. Other than that, there is no sign that he feels it at all. He keeps trying to sit up and look at it.

Shaman lets him look briefly each time, then pushes him back down. He finishes the symbol, then takes the bowl, full of soft grey ash. He adds water from the skin and mixes it together with his hands to make a paste. Lynx's wound is bleeding freely now.

Lynx lies still, finding that he enjoys the feel of Shaman's hands in such a sensative spot--Shaman's hands are much softer than the others, who spend their lives working with them. His cock stirs a little, and he blushes softly. 'You remember him, then?' he thinks to it.

Shaman presses the ash into the wound, gently, working it under the skin so the scar will be raised. He

*He bent his head and kissed the wound where he had kissed earlier. "My Chief." he murmured.

"My Shaman," he murmurs back, in a pleasantly altered state.

Shaman smiled, then stood, undressing.

Lynx watches, not sure what to expect.

Shaman had never been naked in front of anyone except his parents and the old Shaman. He removed his clothing stonily, revealing soft breasts and his androgynous body.

He is at first puzzled by Shaman's expression, but as more of the man's body is revealed, he understands. He expects to be disturbed or repulsed, but instead finds himself very aroused--his cock is fully erect, and he feels his face flush.

Shaman isn't sure what to expect, already holding back tears, however when he sees Lynx's reaction he feels himself responding in the same way. He kneels down, now fully undressed.

Lynx gives a throaty gasp, barely restraining himself from reaching out and doing the exploring with his hands that he so badly wants to, but his eyes are full of longing.

Shaman grabs his hands and melts into his arms, pressing their bodies (and erect cocks) together.

Lynx moans, grinding, his hands gently stroking Shaman's soft, soft breasts. The sensation makes him moan again.

Shaman gasps, grinding back against Lynx, trying not to grind into his new scarification. He pulls back, laying on his back and spreading his legs, eyes closed in an almost shy expression.

Lynx's eyes widen, and he gently kneels between Shaman's legs, not entirely sure what to do. Bending some more, he gently takes the cock in his mouth.

"Ahhh..." Shaman moans, arching into Lynx's mouth. He gently takes the other man's hands and places them under his cock.

Lynx leaves his hands where they're put, not really sure what's going on there. He concentrates on sucking, finding that he enjoys the sensation in his mouth.

Shaman moves a little more and Lynx finds his fingers slowly penetrating.

Lynx slowly works his fingers in, enjoying the slick wetness, but not really getting the significance. He continues sucking, making little happy moans.

Shaman's moans get a little deeper and he works his fingers into Lynx's braid, moving against Lynx's fingers even more.

Lynx is making deep groaning sounds, grinding his hips. Suddenly, something occurs to...his penis...and he pulls his mouth and hands free, bringing his groin between Shaman's legs, waiting for approval.

Shaman bit his leg, but slid himself down on Lynx's cock, crying out.

Lynx groans furiously, driving as fast and deep as he can, watching Shaman's face to make sure he's not doing anything wrong.

Shaman's mouth widened and he yelled with pleasure, hand travelling down to stroke his still damp cock

Lynx leans as close as he can, sucking at Shaman's breasts and nipples with a rapturous expression, still pounding furiously.

Shaman's back arched and he came... twice. He came on his stomach and he came around Lynx, tightening. He had dripped enough that his anus was now lubricated and before Lynx had a chance to cum, Shaman had pulled him out and reinserted him into the tighter hole.

Lynx gasps at this new sensation, the confusion not registering yet as he pounds out his final few thrusts before coming with a sound that's almost a bellow.

Shaman cries out, biting into Lynx's shoulder as he does, wrapping his legs around his Chief. His anus tightens around the other man's cock, then relaxes. "Ohhh..."

Lynx gasps, going limp and collapsing beside Shaman, his breath coming in ragged pants.

Shaman was also out of breath, smiling a little. He kissed the top of Lynx's head. "I'm yours, my Chief." he murmured.

"I'm...very happy...to hear that..." he pants, smiling up at Shaman.

"Sleep now." he smiled back, feeling so happy now that he knew his chief accepted him.

"Yessir..." he murmurs, and is asleep almost immediately.