Freebie Friday: NSFW Torn Apart, Part 2 (m/m)

Blurb:

After a massive natural disaster all but destroys the planet of Torn, William—a Human soldier—must find his native lover, Intugu. Will the two be reunited, or will William's dreams end in a pile of rubble?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Intugu's gaze swept up and down, and William thought he saw a barely perceptible nod. Intugu arched an eyebrow, licked his lips slowly, and offered William a crooked smile—the look in his eyes one of lust. William's insides tensed and his cock twitched. He glanced from Intugu to the commander and back again—then looked away quickly, praying Intugu would understand and not do anything embarrassing in front of his superior.

But Intugu never had been very good at the subtle nuances of Human body language. Something nudged William beneath the stone table; his eyes went wide as he realized the something was Intugu's bare foot. That foot inched higher, sliding up along the inside of his thigh and settling between his legs. Intugu scooted forward just enough to deliver a slight pressure to William's crotch. William bit down on his tongue to keep from gasping and tore his gaze away from Intugu as five skillful toes began to knead his cock.

Across from William, Intugu's attention remained fixed on the commander's presentation, though his foot stayed just as active. His big toe rubbed up and down; William shifted in his seat to allow for the uncomfortable bulge in his pants. How he would stand up and show his face after this, he wasn't certain—he'd either be contending with a very obvious erection, or a very obvious stain. And he wasn't sure Intugu was too particularly concerned with his predicament.

"Weyom...."

William awoke to the whisper of his name in Intugu's deep, husky, heavily accented voice, and a shudder of lust running up and down his spine. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, savoring the image of Intugu's dark eyes and darker skin, arms folded across that bare, muscular chest, long, black hair flowing down around a head held high and proud. He savored it for a long, long time, simply sitting there, mentally clutching the memory close as if he could pull Intugu to him somehow by doing so.

He opened his eyes and banged the back of his head against what remained of a wall. He'd been unable to bring himself to look through the rubble, but equally unable to leave. If he looked—if he found Intugu's body—that would be the end of it. No hope. But if he left without looking, might he be leaving his lover to the ravages of time and worse? What would he do with Intugu's body, even if it were there? Intugu's people had strict ceremonial requirements for their remains—embalming, special wrappings, not to mention the display ritual—none of which William could fulfill by himself.

He could search the building, and assuming he found Intugu, he could go and try to find a Godswoman, if any still remained in the city. But how would he protect Intugu's remains in the meantime? There was a temple nearby, but he doubted it still stood. William blinked back tears of frustration. Who was he kidding? He could barely support his own weight, let alone shoulder Intugu's. He kicked at the ground with his heel dejectedly.

William sighed. Nothing for it, he supposed. He had neither the physical nor the mental strength to look for Intugu. He had to hold onto the thought that his lover was still out there somewhere, searching for him, just as he searched. With a groan, he pushed unsteadily to his feet, catching himself on a pile of smashed building just before he toppled into it face first.

Thunder rumbled in the distance; fat, heavy drops of rain splattered to the ground. William turned his gaze skyward. "Really?"

To be continued...

Freebie Friday: Torn Apart (m/m)

Blurb:

After a massive natural disaster all but destroys the planet of Torn, William—a Human soldier—must find his native lover, Intugu. Will the two be reunited, or will William's dreams end in a pile of rubble?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Torn's not like any other place you've ever been. That planet has a soul—remember that. She'll demand your respect, and you'd do best to give it.

And in true Human fashion, William had dismissed the words of his superior officer. Ten years of living in the barely-describable-as-civilized wilderness of Torn without incident had only served to cement his belief—no, his conceit—that nothing could stop him. There existed nothing that William—indeed any Human—couldn't conquer, couldn't bend to their will. Couldn't convert.

Except Torn. She'd proven that, at last, and taken back the land from terraforming, digging, and drilling. Torn had handed down her revenge. The storm—the natives called it The Great Anger—had come on quickly. No preceding black skies, no foretelling howling winds. No time to react. No warning. Nothing.

Crudely built, the wooden shanties they lived in had splintered and crumbled under the powerful gusting gales. The Great Anger ripped mighty trees from their roots as if they had not been rooted at all, careened them through the air like they'd weighed no more than twigs. They'd become weapons in Torn's plan, a way of bringing about even more damage as they slammed through walls and rooftops. Quakes split the roads open, torrential rains flooded the cities. In its wake, the Great Anger left nothing but devastation.

William recalled passing the bodies of the dead and dying, some trapped beneath rubble but somehow still drawing breath. Though he'd known many of them—as an Earth Liaison he had crossed paths with almost everyone in the village at some point or another—he hadn't stopped to help anyone—not the dying, at any rate. There'd been nothing to do for the dead; no way to see their remains properly honored. He'd comforted himself by saying he'd come back for them, but he doubted the truth of that even now, in the aftermath, in the eerie silence that surrounded him—in the moldy, wet dark. William had one thing on his mind, one person left in the world whom he gave a damn about besides himself. Intugu.

Where his lover had ended up, William didn't know. He'd searched as much as he could during the storm—run up and down alleyways, darted in and out of huts screaming Intugu's name to no avail. The last they had spoken, Intugu had mentioned a meeting in the council hall on the other side of town. William would reach the hall within the next hour, if he'd guessed the distance correctly earlier.

He crouched low at the sound of voices off to his left. Only two days since The Great Anger, and already the looting and pillaging had started. Not just those from other ravaged towns come to prey upon the weak, but their own townspeople as well. There was no one left to enforce the law—the Honor Guard had long since fled, had taken possession of anything that would fly the very hour The Great Anger had ended and left the planet behind. There was no justice to be had, no safety anymore. Not from the elements, not from the animals—four legged or two. And they were surely all animals now.

He waited for the voices to move away before he stood again and continued down the path. Pain shot up from his ankle, sizzled along the muscles of his leg, and nearly made him cry out. He surrendered to it, though only momentarily, kneeling to inspect the makeshift bandage he'd fashioned. Seeped through with blood and muck, the thing clung to his wound with a tenacity that seemed almost Human. He grimaced at the sickly squishy sound it made as he pulled it back.

He might as well have not even bothered, since all that met his eyes was the same gnarled flesh scraped down to the bone. The smell though—the scent of overripe meat, the sharp tang of blood, and the heated stench of sweat combined with pus—would've raised food to the back of his throat if there'd been anything left in his stomach. As it was, he failed to stifle a cough. William replaced the bandage as best he could and stood again, shouldering his pack. Time to move on, to focus on his goal of finding Intugu.

He limped along slowly. In truth it drove him mad to move at such a snail's pace, but he supposed it didn't matter anyway. If Intugu had managed to live, he'd be somewhere waiting. And if he hadn't, well, he'd still be somewhere waiting. Fatigue tugging at him, William started to mentally catalog the supplies he'd managed to scrounge before he'd headed out after Intugu. His bag held a length of rope—not much longer than his arm, but maybe it would prove useful for something—a hunk of sambat bread—though he hated the stuff—a large knife, a spoon—in case he somehow managed to find something more appetizing than that disgustingly dry, crumbly bread—and a hunk of chain. A paltry lot, indeed, but the Honor Guard had taken most everything else.

Following the winding gravel trail through what remained of the forest, he finally arrived at the council hall. He stood frozen in that spot, mesmerized, as the sheer magnitude of what had happened pressed down on him. What had once been a tall, proud, sprawling building was now a barely recognizable, ruined heap.

To be continued...

Freebie Friday: NSFW What the Lady Wants, Part 5 (m/m, crossdressing, feminization)

Blurb:  

When Keenan's lover, Naro, reveals the deep, dark secret of his past, Keenan must decide how strong their love really is. But Keenan has a secret of his own—one that's right up Naro's alley.

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"Just as lovely as I'd imagined."

Naro jumped at Keenan's voice. Keenan stood in the doorway, shoulder propped against the jam, smiling. Naro smoothed his hands down along the dress, shivering. "Do you like it?"

Keenan leaned his head to the side and nodded. "I do. I didn't know if I would or not, but I really do. You look very sweet. But, and forgive me for saying this, because I know it's not what you want, you're still very masculine." Keenan moved to stand behind Naro at the mirror, slid his arms around Naro's waist. "And I like the way we look together."

Naro turned his gaze to the reflection again. The sight of Keenan's strong arms around him, against the shimmering dress, hardened his cock in a split second. His mind filled with a vision of him on his back in their bed, the dress rumpled up around his hips and Keenan between his legs, sucking him off. Naro let out a groan and turned in Keenan's arms, pressing his cock against Keenan's thigh.

Keenan grinned. "You'd better take it off now." He lowered his head and planted a nibbling kiss on Naro's lips. "I'd hate to muss up your shiny new dress."

But Naro shook his head. "Will you do something for me?" He began to work the buttons of Keenan's shirt open.

"Anything. Surely you know that after this?" Keenan gestured to the dress. "What would you have me do?"

Naro licked his lips. "Take me to bed and suck my cock while I wear the dress."

Keenan's grin widened and he shrugged. "Well, you know what they say. What the lady wants"—he pushed Naro toward the door that led back to their bedroom—"the lady gets."

Naro walked backward into the bedroom, undoing the last of Keenan's buttons and pushing the shirt from his shoulders as he followed. The edge of the bed bumped the backs of Naro's knees and he sat down with a sigh.

Keenan cupped Naro's chin and kissed him quickly before turning his attention to the rest of his clothing. He unbuttoned his breeches and slid them down slowly, wiggling his hips as they emerged. Tossing the pants aside, he went down on his knees in front of Naro.

Naro shivered as Keenan pushed up the skirt of the dress and glided his hands up along Naro's thighs.

"Is this what you had in mind?" Keenan asked. He lowered his head under the skirt and licked at the head of Naro's cock.

A moan escaped Naro's lips and he reached down to stroke his hands through Keenan's long hair, letting the strands filter through his fingers one by one. He scooted back on the bed so that his legs hung off from the knees down, and grabbed a pillow to prop himself up so he could watch. He absolutely didn't want to miss a single second of this. Naro stuffed the pillow under his head and hiked his skirt up further, loving the way the material rustled as he bunched it in his hands.

Keenan wrapped his fingers around Naro's cock, lowered his head, and pursed his lips around the tip to suck.

"Yes," Naro sighed breathlessly, hands fisting in the dress.

Keenan's head bobbed up and down, the dark of his skin made even darker by the vibrant richness of the shiny dress. He slid his hands under Naro's ass, dug his fingers into the pliant flesh there, using it for leverage. Naro wanted nothing more than to simply close his eyes and ride the pleasure, but the erotic scene before him kept his attention fixed; he couldn't tear his eyes away. He'd never seen anything sexier than Keenan with his head buried in a dress-enshrouded groin.

Naro groaned as his cock slipped just that much deeper into the heat of Keenan's mouth and Keenan moaned around it, sending ripples of ecstasy along his shaft and up into his balls. His mind drifted back to last night, when Keenan had spoken to him during their lovemaking, called him pretty. That had sounded and felt so good; he wanted it again now. Naro tugged on Keenan's hair and squirmed away from that deviously skilled mouth. "Talk to me."

Keenan grinned and climbed onto the bed to straddle Naro. He bent and trailed his tongue along the top edge of the dress, where Naro's cleavage would've been had he been a woman. "Your skin is so soft," he whispered.

Naro shivered, waves of need and lust crashing against him. "More."

Keenan palmed Naro's left nipple though the dress, closed his hand and squeezed as if there were far more beneath his touch than there really was. "Such lovely breasts." He nuzzled his cheek against the satin. "So round and firm."

Naro's eyes rolled back in his head. Gods, but Keenan was good at this for someone who didn't like to lay with women.

"I've never wanted a woman like I want you, Naro," Keenan purred. He thrust his hips against Naro. "I've never wanted to touch a woman, never wanted to be with one. But you"—he pressed the heel of his hand to Naro's cock and rubbed in slow circles—"you're just too pretty to resist. I want to slide inside and feel your womanhood surround me, all slick and hot."

"Kee!" Naro wrapped his legs around Keenan's waist, his arms around Keenan's neck, and pulled Keenan down on top of him, lips seeking Keenan's. He whimpered into Keenan's mouth, their tongues twining and sliding in a slippery battle for supremacy. He let Keenan win, let Keenan deepen the kiss, Keenan's large, powerful body pressing him down into the bed as he clung.

Keenan broke the kiss, and the look of crazed lust burning in his eyes went straight to Naro's cock, making him whimper even more.

"Fuck," Keenan growled. He lowered his head and claimed Naro's mouth again, the kiss hurried, nearly frantic. His teeth nipped Naro's bottom lip; Naro's eyes opened wide at the pleasant pain.

"Do that again," Naro pleaded. "I…I liked the pain. Bite me again."

Keenan reared back and simply looked at Naro for a long moment, seemed to be warring with himself, brow furrowed. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "How far do you want this to go?"

Naro arched an eyebrow, not knowing how to interpret the question. "What…what do you mean?"

"Before we met—years ago—when I lived in Kembi, I was a Master in the Nulphillium."

"By the gods…" Naro shook his head, trying to digest the revelation that his lover had been a member of an organization devoted to providing the region's royalty with pleasures of the flesh—and not always mundane, ordinary pleasures. Naro had heard tales of kings who liked to be tied up and flogged until they bled, of queens who demanded that their sexual partners put them on display and all but rape them. He shivered, wondering just what acts Keenan had performed.

"You're not the only one with secrets." Keenan caressed Naro's upper arms. "Thoughts?" he prompted.

"Will you tell me about it, some time? Will you describe the things you saw and the things you"—he suppressed another whimper—"the things you did?"

"If you'd like to hear them."

"I would. Did you…did you enjoy your time there?"

Keenan nodded. "Very, very much. Nothing would please me more than to show you some of the delights I learned, as long as you're willing."

Was he willing? Naro let his mind wander for a moment, brought forth images of himself wearing delicate black stockings, lacy black gloves, and a fancy, flowing dress, trussed up in shiny black ropes for Keenan's amusement. He nearly came. "I'm willing."

Keenan closed his eyes for a second, then nodded. When he opened his eyes again there was that same crazed lust, but something else lurked in those bright green depths; something primal and dominant, and Naro felt a shift inside himself as something buried deep within his soul respond instantly, instinctively.

Naro cried out as Keenan's teeth sank into his shoulder, biting and pulling, gnawing none too gently. He pressed his hand to the back of Keenan's head, pushing his flesh against Keenan's mouth. "Gods…Kee…harder."

Keenan's bite intensified; he went so far as to tug back, Naro's skin between his teeth, and shake his head like a dog.

Moaning, writhing beneath Keenan in bliss, Naro could barely believe he'd asked for such a thing, had never thought of himself as someone who would consider it, let alone like it. But he couldn't deny how alive he felt as the pain of Keenan's bites pounded through him.

Keenan pulled away roughly, caught Naro's hands and pinned them together above his head. The bites began again, across Naro's other shoulder, all along his exposed flesh above the collar of the dress, then up along his arms, alternating between one and then the other, Keenan's teeth pulling and tugging on the tender, meaty flesh through the dress, leaving little wet marks on the shiny fabric.

Naro squirmed and gasped, crying out over and over, wanting it never to end, his cock beyond painful, balls tighter than tight. It did end though, as Keenan slid from him and stood, crossed over to the small cabinet by the window and rummaged around for a bottle of oil. The bottle he brought back was red, with a flame painted on one side. Naro had never seen it before.

Keenan came back to the bed and straddled Naro once again. He leaned in for another biting kiss, then sat back.

Naro wiggled impatiently, drawing a deep, rumbling chuckle from Keenan.

"Wanton whore," Keenan snarled.

Why those two words enticed him, Naro didn't know. But the shiver that climbed his spine was undeniable.

"But you're a pretty whore," Keenan continued. He pushed the skirt of Naro's dress up even further, uncorked the bottle, and poured a small amount of liquid onto Naro's stomach.

Naro gasped, the wind sucked from his body by a hot sting that settled into his skin. "What…what is that?"

"It's a special oil made by the monks in Creval. It's meant to be for aches, but it has certain other uses that are far more interesting." Keenan dumped the oil into his palm and reached down to stroke his own cock. He moaned long and low, thrusting his hips against his hand. "It's one of my favorite things."

Naro mewled in frustration.

"I haven't forgotten you, my pretty little whore." Keenan tipped the bottle and dribbled oil directly onto Naro's cock.

"Kee!" Liquid flame slid along the length of Naro's cock and down the sides. Keenan's hand slipped down to Naro's balls, his fingers like tiny points of fire on Naro's skin. Keenan teased his opening, ringing that unholy heat around the rim before sliding two fingers deep inside.

Coherent thought fled, and so did the ability to speak or make any sounds that made sense. Naro cried out, voice more like a choked sob than anything else as Keenan worked him, fingers curling and scissoring, toying with that sweetest of sweet spots before withdrawing. Naro thought to argue, beg Keenan not to stop, but no sooner had the thought occurred to him than Keenan's cock replaced his fingers, sliding deep.

"You like my cock, don't you, little whore?"

Naro nodded quickly, bucking his hips up and shifting so that he could take more. Keenan thrust hard; Naro likened it to being fucked with a blunt, thick, red-hot fire iron that had just been dipped in flame. The harder Keenan slammed, the harder Naro wanted it. He dug his fingers into the bed sheets and hung on, added his own strength to the force of Keenan's movements. Like the kiss had earlier, it became another war between them, both of them fighting to show the other which of them controlled the situation, both of them vying to wring the other's strength out.

Keenan grabbed hold of Naro's wrists and pinned them at his side, leaning down so that all his weight rested in that embrace. Naro put up a token struggle, loving the rush of fear and adrenaline that being held down brought.

"You're mine," Keenan growled. "Give up."

Naro shook his head in response. "Make me." He struggled more, twisting his hips in a half-hearted attempt to throw Keenan off, though that was the last thing he wanted. But it earned him the reaction he craved.

Keenan snarled and released one of Naro's wrists, raised his hand to Naro's throat and squeezed just slightly, just enough to cause Naro's eyes to widen in surprise and uncoil the fear nestled in his belly, send it spiraling out along his skin. Keenan redoubled his pace, thrusting painfully hard and fast, pistoning Naro into the bed with every stroke. "Filthy whore!"

And that part of Naro that had responded earlier, that instinctive submission that had risen inside him now swelled to the surface. He stopped fighting and his body went limp except for his legs, which he kept wrapped tight around Keenan's waist. He closed his eyes and stretched his neck out as much as he could, offering the gesture to Keenan as a symbol of Keenan's hard fought victory.

Keenan howled and thrust himself home again and again. He let go of Naro's other wrist at last and wrapped that iron hard grip around Naro's cock. He started to stroke but he needed have bothered. The moment their flesh touched, Naro's cock erupted in a painful climax that stripped reality away, leaving Naro shaking and screaming out his pleasure.

Keenan went rigid, burying his cock to the root one final time, tip striking that spot hard, his pleasure wresting another hoarse scream from Naro. Nostrils flared, sweat-slick muscles taunt, hair falling around him, Keenan reminded Naro of a wild stallion. He didn't move—only his chest heaved as he panted heavily—he simply stared down, wide-eyed, at Naro, his expression warring between disbelief and elation.

"Are you all right?" Keenan finally asked, voice hoarse and strained.

Naro nodded. "Are you?"

A hard, powerful shiver started in Keenan's legs and ran up his body, forcing him to close his eyes and lean his head back. If Naro hadn't known better, he'd have sworn Keenan had just climaxed again.

Keenan eased his body from Naro's, stretched out, and gathered the blankets up around them. He pulled Naro close, nibbled a path along Naro's jaw. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Naro sighed happily and closed his eyes, reveling in the drowsy warmth radiating from Keenan's skin. He turned and snuggled into Keenan, pressed his lips to Keenan's still damp chest and gently licked up a drop of sweat. Keenan chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest like a rumble of distant thunder.

Naro awoke later, though he didn’t know how much time had passed. Keenan wasn't in bed with him anymore. Indeed, his lover had straightened up the bedding and changed Naro out of his dress. He was about to get up and go searching for Keenan, when the object of his thoughts appeared in the doorway, carrying a small wooden trunk. "What's that?"

Keenan placed the trunk in the middle of the bed. "Tools of my former trade. See for yourself."

Naro opened the lid and peeked inside. The trunk contained an assortment of whips, chains, manacles, and other items he'd never seen before, but somehow knew what they'd be used for. He reached in and withdrew a long, thick, leather-wrapped item, almost resembling a cock. Tapered at one end, and studded all along its length with metal nubs, the thing looked positively menacing. And thrilling. He ran his hand over the nubs. "Will you try this on me?"

Keenan grinned. "Like I said before, what the lady wants, the lady gets."

~The End~

Freebie Friday: What the Lady Wants, Part 4 (m/m, crossdressing, feminization)

Blurb:  

When Keenan's lover, Naro, reveals the deep, dark secret of his past, Keenan must decide how strong their love really is. But Keenan has a secret of his own—one that's right up Naro's alley.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Naro yawned and stretched, languishing in the warmth of the bed and the memory of last night. His first night with Keenan. And things had gone so well! He'd been terrified of revealing the secret of his past, but if anyone had deserved to know—if he'd wanted anyone in the world to know—it had been Keenan. Keenan hadn't turned from him, as he'd feared. He rolled over onto his stomach and gazed out the window. Keenan had apparently opened it before he'd left for his duties this morning; a light, crisp breeze ruffled the curtains and the scent of the flowers in the garden wafted in.

Just beyond the fence that bordered their land, Naro could see the birds flying on their way to their winter homes, and two horses out for a romp around the neighbors' grounds. He could hear the steeds' happy whinnies and snorts as they ran after each other, pawing the ground and shaking their heads, their manes flaring out around them. Naro climbed lazily from bed and stretched again, standing on his toes, arms reaching out above his head, the chilly air raising bumps on his naked flesh. He turned to head into the washroom, but something caught his attention.

A plainly wrapped box sat on the chair in the corner, his name written on it in Keenan's handwriting. Keenan had left him a gift? How very thoughtful! Naro hurried across the room, feeling a little childish for such an eager response, but he did love presents! He plucked the package up, lowered himself into the plush chair, and ripped the outer wrapping off, digging into the box.

Naro frowned as his hands encountered something soft and frilly, but the frown quickly turned to a gasp of wonder and a large, excited grin. He held up a long sleeved dress made of shimmering forest green satin, embellished with delicate velvet roses, and trimmed at its collar and cuffs with white lace. Tucked into it was a note also written in Keenan's handwriting. You never know unless you try.

Naro stood and carried the dress into the washroom, to the floor length mirror that hung on the wall beside the pedestal sink. He held it up to himself, gasping at his reflection, and the swell of pride and happiness that soared through him. Eyes tearing up, he hung the dress on a hook by the door, keeping watch on it—though he wasn't sure why, it wasn't like anyone was going to steal it—as he drew himself a bath.

He washed quickly, barely able to contain his nervous excitement, not wanting to delay the moment of truth any longer. Naro stepped from the tub and dried himself off, then moved to stand in front of the dress. He took a long, deep breath and reached for it. There were no buttons or other fasteners, and he was glad for that, for he wasn't sure how he'd get them closed without help anyhow. He pulled the dress on over his head, eyes closing at the shock of sheer pleasure that met him as the soft, silky material slid along his skin, leaving a trail of tingles.

Naro fluffed his hair, straightened the dress's tight-fitting bodice—Keenan had gauged his size perfectly—and stepped over to the mirror. The air left his chest in a wheeze as his muscles constricted with joy and he began to cry in earnest. He'd never felt so right, so complete. So beautiful. "Oh…my…"

To be continued...