A gay story: Sex God Saga Ch. 12 ### Sex God Saga 12
### Party Hard, Fuck Harder
Still SUNDAY:
Theo would have accepted being under ‘house arrest’ or getting stored in the Mage Tower and chatting with whoever was playing music for Ascelin today or maybe meeting some random muses.
But the Onxy Skies invited him over, so Keith dropped him off at the darkest among the towers piercing the skyline of Harpersfield.
It was his first time entering through the lobby by himself. Leylani fetched him. She was dressed more for a party than business, light silver bands woven into her cornrows, a formfitting dress under a dark, flowy gown.
They ascended to the 25th floor, where the Stygians tended to hold council, and Theo was led into a small lounge overlooking the square.
“So Theo,” Leylani started. “I can call you Theo, right?” She appeared to summon a notebook from thin air and leaved through it. “This is Calendar, my familiar. Or the familiar of whoever is steward. It keeps information from prying eyes. Damien mentioned we found your birth parents?”
“Yes, ma’am. They’re apparently… unremarkable Europeans.”
“Baseliners, pretty sure. So we’re not going to push too much. But I found *something* pertaining to the Mysterium.” Her polite, minimal smile grew into a softer expression. “Would you rather know more about them or not?”
“Not really? Not right now at least.”
She took it in stride. “In that case… A few years before your birth, your bio-father was good friends with a known, white Stygian. Felix Nilsson from Copenhagen. And I mean really good friends. Bank records show he lent your bio-father serious sums a few times, likely for rent and heating bills. And he seems to have traveled to your bio-parents location several times. We don’t know how they met initially but… I’m not sure how to say this.”
Theo stayed quiet but gave an encouraging nod.
“Your bio-father is blond but… so was Felix. His financial aid intensified after you were born. And he’s dead now. Maybe he just moved to a different host and went off the record but there’s a grave and… I’m not sure how much you know about Stygians creating descendants but it’s a tricky process that can cost more than one of us can give.”
“You think he… I’m a Stygian?”
“It’s a stretch, I admit, but if he felt guilty for using your bio-parents like this, probably tricking your official bio-father.” She wiggled her hand. “You might be a… botched transfer.”
She let him stew for a moment before continuing. “Would you like to try unlocking your abilities, *if* they exist?”
“Sure. Can’t hurt. Or, wait, *does* it hurt?”
Leylani laughed for the first time. “Depends.”
“On?”
“If you can make your teacher go gentle on you.”
### ### ###
Floor 21. Theo was just out the elevator and Paris opened his apartment door, wearing slacks and a fully open shirt with gold buttons. His hair was tied up by a gold-thread scrunchy.
“Hey cutie,” the prince said, leaning on his own door. “I heard you had a tough day so far. Tell me how to make it better.”
Theo slipped his hands under the shirt, around Paris’ waist. “I can tell what *you’re* in the mood for.”
He pushed the prince into the apartment while kissing passionately.
Paris pushed him off with a chuckle. “Damn, that worked a little too well on you, huh?”
“Not to make this weird but getting demon raped riles me up and I haven’t found the time to jerk o- Hi Damien!”
Paris laughed and led Theo by the small of his back into the living room.
Damien sat on the sofa with legs far apart. The slightly taller, broader built Stygian wore a leopard pattern silk shirt and artfully torn jeans.
“So I heard you might be one of us,” Damien said. “If a little wonky.”
Theo shrugged. “Your steward seems to think so.”
The crown prince patted the spot next to him. “Shouldn’t be so hard to teach you a thing or two.”
Theo sat down, Paris dropped next to him, his arm around the backrest and gently brushing Theo’s neck.
“Mesmerizing,” Damien started, “And noosphere sight are inherent powers so they should be no more difficult to access than your so called ‘pulse’.”
### ### ###
Any attempt to mesmerize was a failure. Theo couldn’t command Paris to so much as close his eyes. The prince kept revenge-mesmerizing the shaman, though. Theo had involuntarily taken off his shirt enough times that Damien eventually told his brother off.
By contrast, Theo saw into the noosphere within a minute.
The room seemed tinged in gray, with only the Stygians emanating impressions, like colors. Not colors Theo could have put a name to — it was just his closest metaphor.
“Great,” Damien said. “You can now perceive emotions, motives and drives. The more people there are, having the same feelings or motivations, the more obvious it’s going to be and the more anyone who feels differently will stick out.”
Paris put his hand on Theo’s thigh. “It takes practice to know what you’re seeing exactly. Can you guess what drives me right now?”
“Guessing you’re horny.”
“Bingo.”
Theo looked over at Damien. “You’re, uh, am I overlooking something or…”
“Nope,” Damien said with a chuckle. “I’m horny, too. Paris had sung your praises enough I’m at least curious. I’d rather you weren’t a guy, but apparently you convinced Tank to jump teams.”
“I… That’s a compliment or…”
Paris’ hand moved up to Theo’s crotch. “An invitation, dummy. Do you want to? No obligations but we can both tell it excites you.”
“Hey, no f-fair,” Theo said. “Don’t noosphere-scan me like that. A-are you two okay with that?”
Damien gave a shrug and grunt. “We’ve not shared someone before but we’ve been… in the same room. Fucking different people.”
“Um, o…kay?”
The crown prince picked up his scarf of faded green linen and balled it up in his hand where it turned into a brown mouse. “Alice, honey, you keep an eye out.”
“Will do,” the mouse said with the voice of a girl and hopped off the hand to race onto a bookshelf across the room.
Theo was already getting stripped by Paris and returned the favor. Quickly, the blond shaman sat naked between the Bellerose heirs who were down to their underwear. All three erections were hard or getting there.
Damien traced Theo’s collarbones. “I can’t do this with any chicks cause I can’t ask Baseliners for magic consent. Can I mesmerize you?”
“Sure,” Theo said. “Didn’t make it less fun last time.”
Damien paused. “Paris dazzled you before? Okay then.” He leaned in, pulling his Calvin Klein boxers down. “Suck me.”
Theo slipped off the sofa, onto his knees and took the dickhead in his mouth. The dick was comparable to Paris’ but more upward bent. He’d have to be on his back to take it in comfortably but his attention had been narrowed. He didn’t have a care besides the crown prince’s dick. Oh and his balls, too.
The shaman pressed his face into the black abs and gagged his way down. He was slowly slickening it enough to bob halfway each time. His fingers gripped Damien’s thighs, wandering to and from his balls. He was slowly getting-
Something pulled him away with some force. Right, Paris was there. The prince had slipped Theo’s dazed mind.
The world came into focus again.
Damien was quivering as if he was freezing, hands half raised, an expression of terror on his face. A tear rolled down his cheek. “H-holy fuck. Holy *fuck*. Holy. Fuck.”
Paris gave Theo a pat on the head. “Maybe we don’t mesmerize for now if that makes our little twink forget to hold back.”
Damien managed to get a nod through the quivering. “A-agreed. Fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” Theo said.
Paris laughed. “I’m not. Bro brought this on himself. Okay, bottom bitch. Time to take this to the bedroom.”
Alice the mouse jumped ahead while the three men went to Paris’ generous bed. The prince put a white and gold leather collar on the bottom and matching cuffs around his ankles.
Damien facefucked Theo from above and now that the shaman was on his back he could semi-comfortably take the curved dick with little retching.
The crown prince was pinning Theo down by the neck so the bottom didn’t dare give more than first gear. Something slipped along his legs, pulled by Paris. He was being put into a jockstrap. His dick poked over the pouch hem.
Paris hooked chains to the ceiling and soon Theo’s legs were rising and getting spread.
“I’m going to use lube,” Paris said. “I know you don’t need it but I wonder if that makes it more comfortable.”
Theo could only give a thumbs up. He ass got invaded by what had to be Paris’ dick. Damien now kneeled on the bottom’s biceps so his arms were as pinned down as his legs were tied apart.
He tested second gear. The facefuck stayed rhythmic enough to let him breathe so he stuck to that level.
Paris went wilder than his older brother, slapping with his hands, pinching, even biting Theo’s nipples. The bottom’s dick obediently softened into the pouch even though his lust increased.
He knew the Bellerose men would have been able to go for hours like this but he eventually felt too short on breath. He lowered his power output and tapped the bedsheets.
Damien pulled out. “Yeah?”
Theo coughed. “Can my throat get a break?”
“Ah, sorry. I usually check the noosphere to give my sex partners what they need before they know they need it. But you’re… fucking distracting.”
Paris pulled out, too. “Trade me, bro. I need some tools anyway.”
Damien scooted around and fucked Theo’s ass, holding the bottom’s legs stable and pounding with hip thrusts. He looked so pleased, yet so powerful, Theo was almost annoyed by how much lust he experienced.
He felt comfortable using his higher tiers of power and enjoyed the spasms of shock and pleading joy racing across Damien’s expression.
Paris returned with a cat o’ nine tails whip. “A little more sensation, slut?”
“You always know just what I want, sir.”
The Stygian’s switched Theo’s leg chains and turned him around. Some pillows under his torso made sure he stayed stable with his legs pulled up and apart behind him.
Paris kneeled in front of Theo so the bottom had no choice but to take the cleaned dick in his mouth, face to crotch. It wasn’t as deep a blowjob so Theo could just hold still and let the prince rub off on his tongue.
Then the whip came down.
Theo could make Paris stop by going max level. Otherwise he was getting a competently distributed pattern of hits. Eventually, Paris drizzled oil on Theo’s back and massaged the sore spots which was as much relief as torture. Then the whip came back. The pain was close to Theo’s limit now.
Damien was getting more creative, too. He reached under Theo for nipple pinches, slapped his jockstrap-clad balls and dragged his fingers along the thighs. But he also nibbled Theo’s toes. Not even Fulin had gotten into something so gay.
They were interrupted about two hours later by squeaking. Alice was telling them to stop.
Theo reached first into Damien, then Paris and made them orgasm. Their climax was as easy to induce as blowing dust off a surface.
Two grips tightened. One on Theo’s thighs, one on his pecs. Two uncontrolled screams.
Paris cumshot filled Theo’s mouth. He let it flow past his lips onto the sheets.
“Fuck,” Damien said, defeated and spanked Theo’s sore ass cheeks one last time.
“Fuck indeed,” Paris said and sank back. “Half an hour to get ready and I feel like dropping.”
Damien flexed his biceps — Theo had to twist to see it. “You’ll liven up once you’re up there. Excuse me, I gotta get ready.”
Paris undid Theo’s chains. “Care to join me in the shower for some wet cuddles? Man, I could go for another five rounds right away.”
“Yes to shower,” Theo said and rolled onto his side. “Yes to cuddles. No to five more rounds.”
Paris laughed. “Honestly. With what you can do, *you* should be the one giving *us* aftercare.”
### ### ###
The shower was the most luxurious one Theo had ever enjoyed.
Paris had spare clothes for Theo — as in specifically tailored to Theo’s frame.
The shaman let himself get dressed in a sleeveless black mesh shirt with a rather flimsy jacket over it that matched tight white jeans.
Paris dressed in a slightly transparent, black shirt and gold pants. He wore more jewelry than usual, his short dreadlocks raised in a clasp that was almost a tiny crown.
They ate at the apartment — something with a name too French for Theo to memorize — then Paris painstakingly put on gold lipstick and eyeliner to match his nails.
“Ready to absorb some Vibrancy?” the prince asked.
“You won’t mind if I retreat early, would you?”
“Whatever you feel like. Midnight’s going to give you the coziest slumber.”
The cat meow’d in agreement from top of a bookshelf.
“What kind of party is it? I hope you dressed me to not stand to too much.”
“I’m leaving out the collar. This time.” Paris stroked Theo’s neck. “It’s just the typical party for semi high society. The Onyx is fairly popular in some niches. We hire some mid-tier influencers to show up and keep us relevant and their fanbase fills the place to the brim. Works so far.”
They entered the elevator and Theo froze. In the mirror, three silhouettes were facing him, eyes glinting.
“Oh,” he said. “The Watcher. Starting to hate that guy.”
“Yeah,” Paris said, drawing out the word. “Don’t think the Watcher usually sticks around a person so much. Maybe he’s expecting something.”
“Not sure I’m going to like whatever it is.”
Paris drew him into a loose hug. “Hey, tonight’s just a little party. Okay, slut?”
“Are you going to call me that in front of others?”
“Would you be into that?”
Theo paused a little too long.
The prince broke into a wide grin and groped the shaman’s ass. “Maybe once the collar is on.”
### ### ###
The Onyx’ top floor was a rooftop bar. A quarter of it was reserved for staff, other logistics and the elevators that brought them there, leaving a generous L-shape for a DJ booth, bar, grill, standing tables and a few seating areas. Glass ran all the way around, continuing overhead. It could be opened to turn the area into an outdoor space but nights had gotten a bit too chilly.
High braziers of actual flame and electric orange ceiling lanterns shone on gargoyles and half-naked statues.
Theo basically *hoovered up* Vibrancy as he slid through the crowd. His attire didn’t stand out, but it wasn’t a queer crowd, just a young, wealthy and extravagant one.
Paris pointed out Chase Powell, the biracial Stygian with neck tats who was dressed in a black suit — acting as security.
Theo checked if any Baseliners were in hearing range, or moving their way. “Didn’t know the Onyx Skies had Shining Dark guys working for them.
Paris grabbed Theo by the shoulder and seemed to be looking for someone. “Multiple truly independent covens per city are a rarity. The Shining Dark is, you could say, on our payroll. Their Arch-duke should be here.”
“Arch-duke?”
“It’s a bit tongue-in-cheek. Is he subordinate to Caius or not? Better not restart the quandary. Mo Butler. I think you’ve heard of him, right?”
Mo was a slender, deep-black guy with a Tarzan look to him, his dreadlocks long and dense. His leather pants and silk shirt hinted at a twinky body but his jaw was so sharp and angular he seemed jock-ish without trying. A feather boa was draped around his shoulders.
“Hey Paris,” Mo said, pulling Paris into a bro hug.
“Hey Mo, this is Theo.”
“Wouldn’t I know it.” The ‘arch-duke’ gave the shaman a long once-over. “That’s still your type, huh? There’s one of those at every corner.”
Paris held Theo close. “Watch it, Mo. This boy isn’t a random bitch who’s tossed himself at me to get up here.”
“Oooh,” Mo made. “Wedding bells ringing?”
Paris started pulling Theo away. “He’s never heard of moderation, sorry, Theo. He’ll get more bearable with alcohol.”
“I wasn’t going to drink that much,” Theo said.
“I meant Mo,” Paris said. “He’s feisty when sober at a party. It’s hilarious when Chase has to kick him out for drinking too little. Give it time.”
The Bellerose family practically ambushed them, surrounding Theo and Paris by a glass front that overlooked all of town.
Caius wore more casual clothes now, but still in stark cyan and with Dia, the white rose broche, on his chest. Damien had put on a sequin shirt, half open. His mouse familiar was a small, loose scarf. With them was the queen, Bianca Bellerose.
She’d been born in 1874, as the daughter of slaves. Her parents had been Stygians and sacrificed enough of themselves to allow her to be born that they had died after barely more than a human lifespan. Where the king wore cyan, Bianca was dressed in red, from the high heels to the earrings.
“Theo, glad to finally meet you,” the queen said.
“Likewise, ma’am.”
“I assume Paris is taking good care of you?”
“He is, ma’am.”
“I was so hoping he’d find a Knowing boyfriend. And now you’ve wrapped my little Damien around your finger, too.”
“I…”
“Mom,” Damien said, looking shocked.
She chuckled and waved him off. “My sons can handle themselves. I further assume you won’t cause problems on purpose, Theo? It is easy to forget for your people, but my sons are much more mature than they may look, and sometimes act.”
“Mom,” Paris said, looking a bit angry. “No threats. Please.”
Theo tried to look into the noosphere but the party goers were clogging his vision with their fun, anxiety, and horniness.
Noosphere reading translated other people’s feelings into terms familiar to Theo, so it was like having to interpret his own thoughts and habits randomly popping into his mind. It was a lot like reading someone else’s Atlas glyphs.
Bianca’s effect on the noosphere felt eerily ordered, like a lake too calm for its size, a shelf refusing to strain under a never-ending row of books, and the gaze of a stern teacher all at once. She carried the wisdom suitable for her age and was ready to spring it on her charges.
“Then, son, may I introduce your shaman friend to your grandmother?”
Bianca gestured behind her. An African woman, looking 50-something with white hair, wearing an elegant dress with gold stitching and big hoop earrings.
She stood by a brazier, more flame-lit than the people standing near her. She remained out of earshot but her eyes were on Theo.
“That’s Mila,” Paris said. “She’s over 300 years old, which is extreme even for a Stygian. Her familiar’s in that brazier, I think. Arri, also known as Sparky.”
“Over 300?” Theo asked. “She’s seen a lot, huh?”
Damien lightly shook his head. “Don’t talk to her about it. She’s come here on a ship where not many passengers made it, if you know what I mean. She’s not going to like you.”
“Oh come on,” Caius said. “Don’t act like she’s that unreasonable.”
“Okay,” Damien said with a smirk. “Being fair. She doesn’t like *anyone*.”
Bianca playfully crossed her arms. “I see. An hour with Theo and you’re siding with him over family.” She gave the shaman an overacted once-over. “That good, huh?”
Theo had no idea what to say.
Paris pulled him away, while looking back at his family. “Keep it down with the hazing. He’s easily frazzled.”
“I’m n-n-n-not,” Theo started. “Am I?”
“Honey, we can all see your emotions. You may not be blushing but you’re a firework in my eyes.”
Theo smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. “That’s unintentionally a really romantic thing to say.”
“What do you mean unintentional. I’m seducing you on purpose. Oh, last one, Uncle Bart.”
A middle aged, black man in expansive clothes, his hands on the back of a brown woman. He had short hair and a small chin beard. He nodded at Paris, then Theo but didn’t come toward them.
“Bartholomew Bellerose,” Paris said. “Businessman from Africa. Bought his way into being a Stygian.”
“What?”
Paris shrugged. “If you’re semi-immortal but you can’t take care of your family of mortals… Not sure how it went but Bart’s technically younger than me, there’s just a *lot* from the previous guy in him.”
“I recall you saying it’s complicated. Gotcha. So what do you want to drink?”
“Uh, you pick. I just got a message. Oh, look at this. I sent him the same pic you got in the morning.”
Theo showed off a picture of Fulin’s full sized erection, laying on the alpha’s abs. Cum ropes were spread across his pecs.
“I’ve been thinking all day,” Theo read Fulin’s message, “how to respond, cause I don’t care about your body for its own sake but seeing you naked makes me think about how much pleasure I could take from it and *that* made me realize how much I think about you anyway.”
Theo chuckled into Paris’ shoulder before continuing to read. “So fuck you but also fuck you, if you know what I mean. Don’t show me your ass unless it’s actually in front of me. You’ll regret making me think that much. Ace said I should be nice to you, but we both know you want me mean, faggot. See you. Soon!”
Theo took a selfie with Paris, the party in the background, and sent it to Fulin with the text ‘Work on your texting game, puppy boy’.
At the same time Paris sent a text to Fulin. He didn’t let Theo see what it said but he got a response — a candid selfie of Fulin in a stringer top, flashing a middle finger at the camera with a snarling expression.
“I like that guy,” Paris said. “I’ll invite him next time.”
“To the party?” Theo asked. “Or the sex?”
Paris drew Theo close by the chin. “The former is my decision, the latter is up to you. But I know what a slut you are.” They kissed.
Theo had never kissed in public, let alone at a mostly straight party, let alone the location owner’s son. He played with the idea of giving Paris a pulse of power but that would have been more trouble than gift.
“Um,” Paris made. “Can I leave you alone for a bit? I’m expected to mingle and there’s some folk I’ve not seen in a while who’d be mad if I snuffed them. You can come, of course, but…”
“I’ll be by the bar,” Theo said. “Practicing my sight.”
“Keith is supposed to show up later. I’ll send him your way if so.”
“Oh, thanks? I can handle myself.”
“I know,” Paris said and winked. “But he’s your favorite eye candy.”
### ### ###
Theo glanced at the room through his drink, pretending to examine the glass. The only Outsider of notable power present had been the fire sprite jumping unseen between braziers where Mila wandered but the ‘grandmother’ had retreated.
There were three wisps present, attracted perhaps by the gathering of people. One wisp was slithering along the power lines in the walls, another lived in a bottle of beer, another-
Someone backhugged Theo and pinched his nipples. The shaman involuntarily cringed further into the hug.
“H-hey.”
Mo Butler, the black Tarzan with a feather boa kept Theo in a half-hug. Beside him was Bartholomew Bellerose. There was a smear moving across Mo’s forehead. Did he store an Outsider in his head?
“Theo, buddy,” Mo started, “I was so rude to you earlier. Damien’s been singing your praises and whoever can impress a crown prince is good enough for a king like me, right? All’s forgiven?”
“I’m not- I guess.” Theo was distracted because he’d switched to view the noosphere and he was getting pretty good at recognizing one thing — horniness.
“So I was thinking,” Mo said, “since everyone who’s getting a bite of you, seems to like the taste, how about I join the snacking?”
Bart put his fingers into Theo’s hair. “I understand you can give us a trial run without so much as undressing.”
“That’s not a good idea. I think I should find Paris and-”
“The prince is busy,” Bart said and tightened his grip. “We’re not asking for an orgy. We don’t like boys, you see? Boys like *you* least of all. But you don’t need sex to work your magic. Come on.”
Theo placed a hand on each man’s pectoral. Just as he released his pulse he recognized the effects of Stygian dazzle. The narrowing of focus, the automatic movement. He was mesmerized. Which one of them had-
Both men looked like they were in excruciating pain and stared at him with fear, then anger. Mo and Bart looked at each other with determination and pulled Theo along, Bart by the hair and shoulder, Mo with a hand in Theo’s pants, gripping his ass.
Individually they were only a bit stronger than him, but Theo felt no urge to fight, even if he rationally knew they used magic to make him pliant.
They entered the staff only area and shoved Theo into a storage room where shelves rose with barely two feet between them.
In the moments of mesmerization fading or waning, Theo didn’t quite have the wherewithal to fight back effectively but he knew they’d run out of power soon. Especially since both were a little tipsy.
Mo bound Theo’s left wrist to a shelf with his silk shirt, Bart the other with his designer attire.
The shirtless Stygians’ hands shook as they pulled their pants down. Mo was in front of Theo and pushed the blond’s face down to suck him.
Theo’s tied wrists stayed in the air as he was pulled forward, the shelves creaking. He wanted to hold back but a new spell of mesmerization made him let loose.
Bart was behind the victim and pulled the tight pants down with frantic struggle, continuously almost making Theo go to his knees, which the wrist ties prevented. Now the tightness of the pants around his calves made them act as simple ties.
Bart forced his way in and Theo’s ass accepted. The hole had recovered from the Paris-Damien fuck but the rest of his body didn’t have that magic healing. His sore cheeks got pounded anew as Bart dove all the way in.
Maybe it only felt like a huge dick while being average, but Theo got wrecked by anal sensation and lost control of himself. He squirted a few sprays of piss from his chubbing dick while tremors shook him.
Something got wrapped around his neck. The feather boa, picked up by Bart and pulled around Theo from behind to make him rise and keep him close.
The bottom stood straight, no longer able to reach Mo’s dick.
The Shining Dark king wasn’t having it.
Mo reached past the bottom and pushed Bart away. Theo had no idea what was happening but Bart seemed to crash into something.
Mo tried to stick his dick into Theo from the front, his jittery motions not helping the effort. The Stygian bent down and pulled Theo’s legs out of the pants.
Meanwhile Bart was back, stuck it in and fucked relentlessly. Both men sounded more animal than human.
Bart tried to hold onto Theo’s mesh shirt and ripped it up, tearing a strip from collar to hem with every trust.
Mo pushed the businessman again, kicked Theo’s legs apart and stuck his dick in from the front. He whimpered into the bottom’s neck.
Bart had barely slipped out and was back already, pushing his dick in next to Mo’s.
Theo’s ass accepted both. It wasn’t quite Fulin-monster territory but it was enough of a spread to make him cry out with joy despite the terror and wrongness.
He hoped Paris would rescue him any second but the fuck was great.
The tops clung to Theo, one man resting his head on each shoulder, faces pressed into Theo’s neck, and fucked with the same rhythm, partly lifting Theo with their thrusts.
The mesmerization had long stopped. He could probably have shouted for help, but the walls were concrete and the door was steel. Was there a point? He couldn’t get loose. His legs were free but could he have kicked them into submission faster than they could use their abilities again?
There was nothing he could do but get fucked and wait for Paris.
Well, he could do *one* thing.
Theo reeled in his power, switching to first gear, which was as low as it went.
“Listen, you don’t want-”
Bart pulled Theo’s hair hard and just roar-screamed into his ear. Mo grabbed the shaman’s jaw and brought their faces together. “Gimmi fuck.” One of the men’s hands was on his neck, tightening.
Theo obliged. There was no winning two-on-one sex-fights like this.
### ### ###
Later, Paris would tell him he’d been missing for half an hour, but eventually the door opened and Bart was pulled away.
Theo hung in the shelves, his back to his rescuers. Keith and Paris reached past him and shoved Mo away. The Shining Dark king looked like he was going to attack either one of them, then he found his composure and touched his own head.
Something stretched from Mo’s forehead to his finger and trailed his motion as he reached for Theo.
The something — a wisp? — touched Theo and sleep overcame him near instantly. Mo tried to run but some figures had walked around the selves and blocked his path. A man in cyan and a woman in red.
Then Theo sagged in his restraints and his eyelids shut.
### ### ###
Theo recognized the room. The lounge on floor 25. He was sleeping on the sofa in front of the skyline, naked but covered in a blanket. The room was only dimly lit by wall sconces.
“He would be shared,” Bart said, dressed in some more business-like attire now.
Mila, the whitehaired grandma, stood in a corner, slightly separate from the rest. A fire lily was tucked behind her ear. “We do not keep slaves,” she said like a mantra. “If you want to keep one, you are no longer of the Bellerose.”
“As if that name meant that much to *you*,” Bart countered.
“Stay on topic,” Caius said, sitting next to his wife, his legs up on the table.
“You’re not listening,” Bart said. “It’s not that *I* want a slave, that’s just what I’m saying. We can even… rent him out. He can even be… a weapon.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Bianca asked, loud.
Every Bellerose was present, except Paris. Theo tried to catch Damien’s attention without giving away that he had woken up.
“Either way,” Caius said, “I agree with Mila, we’re not using ‘the bond’ on anybody. *If* there is consent after a lot of debate, we could put it up to a vote-”
“Against,” Mila said. “In case I’m not attending that meeting.”
“Noted,” Caius said. “But for now, it’s out of the question anyway.”
Theo tried to check the noosphere but it was a whirlwind of confetti. No telling who felt or was driven by what.
Bart started to talk but Leylani shut her notebook with an unrealistically loud, echoing bang. Maybe the sprite living in it was helping. “Bart,” she said, looking straight at him as she rose, “we might need someone checking on our ventures in Tokyo.”
“Getting rid of me?” Bart asked.
“Giving you distance,” Caius said. “So you can think. Clear your mind of… what happened tonight. Anyway, Theo’s awake now.”
Of course the king knew. Theo sat up. There were clothes for him but he’d have to get off the sofa to reach them.
Damien leaned back in his seat. “If anyone is going to bind him it would be me or Paris anyway.”
Bianca and Mila shouted the crown prince’s name at the same time.
Damien raised his hands. “You don’t know how good… Okay, we’ll keep him around by being *nice*, not by binding him. But we’ll keep him around. Uncle Bart can go to Japan, though. Or to hell.”
Caius took a deep breath. “Theo? How would you like to move in here? With Paris or into your own apartment? Bartholomew is going to leave us for a bit. *Yes* Bart, it’s decided.”
Damien leaned forward, keeping his voice level but smirking. “Or move in with me. I’m told I make a demanding boyfriend.” He sagged lightly when Theo only stared back. “Sorry. Paris’ll have you. I guess if anyone’s binding you-”
“Damien,” Bianca warned.
“-with your consent-”
The door burst open. It was Paris, followed by Keith, followed by a quarter of all shamans in the city’s orders.
Shanghai Payne, the bald, barrel-shaped half-Asian sun god champion and magic repairman. Knox Porter, the mustached, rotund policeman in blue who served as Omen of the Wake — internal affairs. Bastian Mills, a red-blond guy with thick glasses who was Omen of Concord — mediation in conflict. Juniper Upatham, a Thai man, thin, Omen of the Bleed, responsible for tracking evil shamans.
Then there were the women. Brielle Boyd, Hierarch of the female shaman order – Conjunction of Cassia – with curly hair and striking green eyes. Leelah Tate, also an Omen of the Bleed, her long blond hair in a gown like shed been called away from an event. Dawn, the strike team member, in casual combat gear — no crossbow on her from what Theo could see.
The room was getting crowded.
Caius started to rise but changed his mind. “I assume we… don’t get to keep Theo?”
Paris spoke. “Afraid not. I can’t keep him safe. I can’t…” He looked at Theo who was still under covers on the sofa. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where it’s safest but it’s not here.”
Juniper Upatham put a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “It was our responsibility, too. We should have figured something out, sooner.”
Theo gestured. “C-can someone hand me those clothes? And I’m fine staying with Paris. He did- *You* did what you could. I wouldn’t have expected double dazzling either. And what is ‘the bond’?”
Paris let Theo get dressed under cover.
Caius explained. “We Stygians have access to a special bond before the god Athan. Bianca and I used it and perhaps that is what keeps me immune to your… appeal, Theo. Between Stygians it is a very deep marriage. But it can be used with a non-Stygian, as a one sided affair.”
Mile stepped out of her corner, walking between the shaman women. “After the civil war, the American Stygian’s made a promise. No black and no female slaves through the bond. It didn’t go far enough but times were chaotic.”
“We insist,” Juniper said, “that he comes with us.”
“Mind if I come, too?” Paris asked.
Damien stirred as if he wanted to say something but held back.
Keith pulled Theo up by both hands. “Come on. Your prince has got to pack. I’ll drive you.”
Knox and Bastian shielded him from Bart.
There was a lot to think about but more than anything Theo wanted to jerk off. He’d woken up hard and barely calmed down. He kind of hoped Paris would join him in bed.