Chapter Two
The sky went from daylight to darkness, and the field around Kaleb faded into four walls, a soft bed, and a moon hanging full beyond the panes of glass.
The view was a familiar one. Dead garden vines clinging to a high stone wall, trees with no leaves. But closer to the ground there would be green grass and blooming flowers even in the middle of winter.
Those flowers were special in more ways than the ability to withstand the cold. They gave men immortality, and they gave Doxies the ability to produce the nectar.
Once upon a time, Kaleb had been a Doxie to one of those men, a god, named Leo, also known as the Chimera. His abilities unsurpassed by any god in Sanctuary. His thirst for ambrosia a thing of legends.
Leo had taken Kaleb’s virginity. He’d humiliated him. Punished him. He’d given him Aaron. He’d protected him. Maybe, even loved him. No, no, Kaleb was sure Leo loved him. Aaron too.
Kaleb wished he’d never said those terrible things to Leo. He wished he’d been a better Doxie. Maybe if he’d had more control, maybe if he’d been more willing and welcoming to the pain Leo needed to inflict, if he’d been more grateful for Leo’s attention, he wouldn’t be gone.
Aaron had told Kaleb his dislike of pain and humiliation was what made him so special. Those were integral parts of a Doxie, even when they didn’t know it. But Kaleb knew he’d never welcome it, he just couldn’t, but that was okay too because his screams, tears, and broken pleas were exactly what the Chimera inside Leo needed so badly. It lived for the suffering of others.
Yet the one time Kaleb had been with the monster, it hadn’t really been any worse than Leo. The Chimera had protected him, cleaned his wounds, and yes…even though Kaleb did not want to admit it, the Chimera had given him pleasure just as powerful as anything Leo had ever delivered.
But all that was gone. The last few months a memory. Kaleb’s new life cut short by the fact Leo was dead.
The irony of it all, the real kick in the nuts, Kaleb had been the one who’d killed his god.
Ambrosia poisoning.
No one had said it to him directly, but the voices carried the words through the walls when The Priest spoke to Alton or Zen.
It had been easy to hear when Kaleb stopped screaming. Everything in the world had been easy to hear, even the sound of his heart shattering to dust. Kaleb waited, hoping to return to the field, but there was nothing but the room. One he’d shared with Aaron. And the view of the wall. The barrier Kaleb had climbed when he’d gone in search of Leo.
But there was no finding Leo now.
Without him, Kaleb wanted to disappear.
If there was no returning to the field to escaped the pain, he had to find another way. Kaleb climbed from the bed and went into the hallway. The Priest’s cottage was quiet except for the pop and crackle of the fire in the wood stove below.
Kaleb put his hand on the railing.
No. He didn’t want to go down there.
Off to his right a door at the end of the hall. He went to the door and opened it. Moonlight poured in from the surrounding windows. Where there weren’t windows, there were shelves of books and where there were no books there were curio cabinet of toys.
The plugs, he recognized: wood, metal, glass, even what looked like a carved gemstone. But there were also implements he couldn’t even begin to imagine what they’d been used for. Some of them were barbaric and primitive, made out of metal, sporting cranks, bolts, and heavy padlocks.
A spiral staircase in the middle of the room climbed beyond the ceiling and into a secondary level. Kaleb followed the steps to the top where a set of French doors were unlocked. He opened them and was surrounded by a wide circular space with a telescope and a couple of wooden chairs. Pinpoints of light sparkled against the field of black. Kaleb walked to the edge. The almost three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view was only outmatched by the tower where Alton’s private quarters were located. It was far enough away it didn’t inhibit the night sky and most of the horizon.
A breeze tossed Kaleb’s robe, cooling the ache in his throat and heat in his cheeks. When Kaleb had fevered for Leo, he’d been consumed with the need to run, to find him, to seek him out because his body would catch fire and his mind would melt if he didn’t.
There was no such feeling now. Only an empty place where there’d once been an inferno of desire. Where just thinking about Leo would make Kaleb hard. And no matter the punishment the god bestowed on Kaleb, he hungered for the man’s cock, Leo’s calloused hands raking over his skin, fingers pinching Kaleb’s nipples, or squeezing his balls. Most of all, how Leo would trap Kaleb under him making him completely helpless while he fucked Kaleb near delirium.
Even the memories of those events had somehow faded. Like they were years old rather than days. Or worse, they’d never been real at all.
Kaleb shivered, and his teeth chattered. Less from the cold and more from the urge to crawl over the short wrought iron railing and let everything go. But he wasn’t even sure if he was high enough. There were other towers in Sanctuary where he’d have a much better chance.
There was no reason for Kaleb to turn around, except for prickle of hairs rising on the back of his neck.
A few yards away, a pair of white eyes watched him from a black form. It stalked forward, catching the moonlight. Scales, fur, and iridescent hairs tracing the curves of its body flickered with deep oranges, reds, and yellows.
The head, some cross of a lion, a lizard, and a bird. Large vicious quills covered its skull and traveled down its back. The wings on its back dragged the ground. They should have been smaller, just big enough to glide not fly.
But the last time Kaleb had seen the Chimera it had been immense. Here it wasn’t any larger than a big dog.
The Chimera chirped.
How could it be here if Leo was dead?
There’d been a hole in Leo’s chest. Kaleb had no idea how it had gotten there, but looking at this creature…
If Kaleb was right, the Chimera had grown. Grown a lot in just a day and a half.
Kaleb took a step closer, and his knees gave out. The shock of hitting the stone floor rode up his spine and knocked his teeth together, catching his tongue.
The Chimera trotted up. It extended its long tongue and lapped Kaleb’s cheeks.
“Are you real?”
The Chimera jerked its head back and swiveled its ears. A deep thrum, not as deep as Kaleb remembered, but still unmistakable, rumbled in its chest. Kaleb leaned forward and pressed his face against the lush fur covering its chest. Last time, he’d been able to bury himself in there, wrap himself in the silken darkness and warmth.
“He’s gone.” Did it even understand him? Could it?
The Chimera clicked and chirped.
“I don’t know what to do.”
The creature pushed closer until its body covered Kaleb’s thighs. Thick muscle, heavy bone, and a long tail gave it a lot more weight than it seemed like it should. The Chimera tipped its head, looking Kaleb right in the eyes.
It knew him. Kaleb wasn’t sure why that was fact in his mind, but it was.
Mine.
Leo’s voice echoed around Kaleb. His heart jumped. There was no one on the terrace but him and the Chimera.
My Doxie.
Kaleb slowly turned his head back to the creature pinning him.
My Kaleb.
Tears filled Kaleb’s eyes, his lip trembled, and his nose tried to stuff up.
The Chimera nudged Kaleb with its muzzle. Always my Kaleb. You are not alone.
Kaleb wrapped his arms around the Chimera and buried his tears against its neck.
*****
“They say his name is Aaron.” Wren knelt beside the large stone chair Malum favored. It would seem like the worst place to sit, but hard surfaces never seemed to affect the god. Neither did cold, heat, lack of breathable air.
The man didn’t even sleep.
“I heard Pharaoh say Aaron makes potent nectar.” Wren laid his chin on his god’s knee.
“You make potent nectar.” Malum caressed Wren from head to shoulder.
Wren knew the ambrosia he made was strong, but if the whispers flying around Purgatory were true, what Aaron made would make what Wren produced seem like water. And he wanted to give his god, his Master, the strongest ambrosia possible.
“No.” Malum gripped Wren’s long brown hair. “Absolutely not.”
It was no surprised to Wren that Malum already knew what he was going to ask. “But—”
Malum leaned closer. The black void of his eyes didn’t reflect the firelight. His chambers were one of the few with a source of heat. “Do not vex me, boy.”
Oh, but if he did, Malum would punish him. Wren whimpered.
Malum licked the boy’s cheek. “If you want something, ask for it.”
“I only want to serve you.”
“And you do.”
“But I want to be stronger for you. They say he can make others more potent.”
“There is no such thing.”
“But…” The grip on Wren’s hair tightened. Tears sprang to the corners of his eyes and his cock hardened.
Malum grinned. “Are you thinking about my cock in your ass?”
Wren always thought about that. Or his mouth on Malum’s cock. Or his hands. Or Malum’s hands striking his ass until it bruised. Wren panted. Even after centuries with Malum, he simply couldn’t get enough of him. If anything, his craving for the god grew stronger each day.
Wren ran his hands up Malum’s legs to the kilt that barely touched the god’s knees. It was the only garment the god wore. His thick cock and heavy balls burned the palm of Wren’s hand.
Malum purred. “You are wanton this evening.”
No. Wren was just always wanting Malum. The beautiful gray god, his skin the color of granite, his long ebony hair, his massive shoulders. There was only one other god as big as him.
As powerful.
His brother. Marud.
“Please, sir.”
Malum’s gaze went to the stone table where they ate. “Go.”
Wren hurried to his feet. The table was closer to the fire and considerably warmer. Some nights Malum would put a blanket by the stone hearth and let Wren curl up in the folds and hold him while he slept. In Malum’s arms, Wren never missed the sun, the fresh air, the forests. Although, if the rumors about the world were true as well, then it had changed a lot since he’d seen it.
Wren lay over the table, leaving his ass hanging off.
Malum tilted his head, eyes raking over Wren. Just the heavy stare of the god was enough to push Wren close to the edge.
“Do not come, boy.”
He wouldn’t. Not till his god said. And knowing Malum, that could be hours. Hours he may make Wren offer his ass and just sit there or hours of fucking him. The times Malum did that, Wren could sleep for days, only waking up when his god washed him or insisted he eat.
Malum stood, his body rippling with muscle. He was taller than any man in Purgatory. Even the one with the bull’s head.
Taurus was always nice to Wren. The god had even given Wren his food rations on more than one occasion. Unlike other gods who did that, Taurus had never asked Malum to use Wren.
“You are thinking of someone besides me.” Malum stroked Wren’s back.
There was no need to try and lie. “Yes, sir.”
“Who?”
“The bull-god.”
“And why would you think of Taurus when you’re about to have my cock?” Malum leaned over Wren. “Do you wonder what it would feel like to have him fuck you?”
“No, sir.”
“Then tell me.”
“He’s nice.”
“All the gods are nice to you.” Malum exhaled against Wren’s neck. “If they weren’t, I’d kill them.”
A promise Malum had kept many times. Although not nearly as often as he had when they’d first gotten there. Wren didn’t regret following his god to Purgatory. He simply regretted his god would never be free again.
Malum’s touch traveled down Wren’s crack to his hole. Pressure against the opening forced him open. Lubricant squelched as Malum sank his finger to the knuckle. With no time to adjust to the invasion, Wren was forced up on his toes by the stinging burn.
“Just imagine if I had sensitizing creams and salves.”
Or better, lubricant. The oily plant that grew topside worked, but Wren constantly had to apply it during the day because it didn’t last nearly as long as the oils and creams they’d had before.
Malum pumped his finger and Wren moaned. “They say…they say Taurus has had the hot springs reopened. And better food brought in. That’s why we had fresh bread and fruit yesterday. And towels and—”
Malum added a second finger without warning and Wren cried out. His hard cock bumped the edge of the table with every thrust.
“Those are the only sounds I want coming out of your mouth, boy.”
Wren nodded.
Malum removed his fingers. There was a whisper of fabric, then the nudge of the god’s thick cock against Wren’s opening. He spread his legs wider. Malum lifted Wren higher with an arm under his hips. The ache of being invaded returned this time with vicious pressure, filling Wren until he could barely breathe. His god did not need sensitizing creams to make this hurt, it could only hurt.
Wren sobbed.
“What are you thinking of now, Doxie?”
“Y-You.”
“What else?”
“How it hurts.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Like he would if Wren did want him to. “No, no, never.”
Malum drew back to the tip and Wren pushed against the table, trying to follow him.
“You are hungry for this today.”
Wren could only nod.
Malum sank himself again. “I said let me hear you.”
Wren wailed and lost his hold on his tears. “Please, sir.”
He thrust in long slow draws.
“Please, please, please, Master…” Wren clawed at the table, tearing his nails on the slab.
“First, you want it, now you beg for me to stop.”
“No, no, never stop…never.”
Malum sank himself again and covered Wren with his body. The weight he let down on Wren’s back was just enough to make it impossible to move. Malum’s hot breath blew against Wren’s neck, his shoulder, his cheek. He turned his head, drinking his god’s exhale.
“I’m going to fuck you Wren, and I want everyone in this place to know it. I want to hear your voice echo through these halls for days. And if you please me. If you well and truly impress me. Maybe, I will let you go to this new Doxie and see what he has to offer.” Malum withdrew again. “Maybe, I’ll even let you fuck him.”
The force of Malum’s reentry shoved all the air from Wren’s lungs. The god continued, driving his cock over and over, harder and harder.
“I can’t hear you, boy.”
Wren fought for air to fuel his voice. But every breath was stolen by the relentless pummeling. He had to impress Malum, if for no other reason than to meet the other Doxie. Maybe they could even be friends. He’d been friends with Mikeal once until Insidious killed his god. Now Wren never saw the other boy, and he missed him. The rest of the gods who had Doxies were just as greedy, and Wren rarely saw them outside their god’s chambers. And when he did they were always thin, tired, and used up.
Malum’s thrusts changed angle and what had been a graze across Wren’s prostate became relentless. Almost striking the spot like a hammer. Pleasure didn’t even exist anymore there was simply the excruciating agony.
Wren screamed and bucked. He scrambled for a hold on the table, anything to get away, anything to make it stop. Malum returned to those long deep thrusts, fucking Wren with violence.
Black flowers bloomed in front of Wren’s eyes and the light from the fire fractured. He collapsed on the table as cry after cry rose and fell filling the room.
“That’s it, boy.” Malum put a hand on the table, holding himself over Wren. He knew what that meant yet he was never prepared for it. The hard fucking turned brutal. Every impact rang through Wren’s hips and rode up his spine.
The firelight dimmed, the room faded, even the heavy breaths and clap of their bodies impacting disappeared, leaving behind Wren’s voice. A high ragged sound. A howl of a wounded, frightened animal. A creature in so much pain, pleasure was the only place left to go.
And Wren strained to find that point. Now with the ambrosia boiling through his veins, he was ready. Malum shoved his cock deep one last time; the pulse sent a crackle through Wren’s body, teasing awake the nerves that had shorted out. His skin prickled, ice flowed over him, and the muscles in his legs cramped until his toes curled.
Wren’s aching cock leaked, and his balls remained tight. The waiting was worse than the journey. It would be worth it, though. He just had to convince himself.
Malum rolled Wren over and moved him higher up on the table. Wren’s arms flopped, and his legs were rubber, but somehow he found the strength to spread them.
“You ready, boy?”
Wren huffed air.
“When I put my mouth on you, you can come.” Malum buried two fingers in Wren’s ass. An electric burst radiated from Wren’s prostate as the god worked his fingers over the spot.
Wren arched against the table. Another high-pitched cry escaping from his abused vocal cords. Only this time he found the words he needed to beg. “Please, more, more sir. I need more.” A lesser Doxie would have died under Malum. His strength had broken them before. But Wren was strong. It’s why Malum chose him centuries ago. Because he could take the fucking the god could give. But there were times, like now, when the ambrosia seared through Wren, obliterating his thoughts, tearing him limb from limb, flaying the very flesh and muscle from his bones, he worried he might not survive.
Wet heat engulfed Wren’s cock, and he released his hold on the ambrosia. The euphoric rush crashed through him, whisking him away, pulling him under until there was nothing but blessed darkness.
There, Wren drowned without once fighting his way to the surface.
*****
Malum always lost time when he milked Wren for the most potent of his offerings. Sucking the boy until his cock withered and the skin purpled. Even then, Malum would continue to work Wren’s prostate. Centuries of conditioning had trained the Doxie’s body to give and give and give.
And in the time Wren had under Malum, his body had adapted to his needs. Producing ambrosia so potent it had killed unworthy gods, weak gods, men not worth the air Malum’s Doxie breathed. It had been both greed and protection that pushed Malum to take his boy there. The god did need ambrosia, a lot of ambrosia. The few times Wren had been taken from Malum, the potent ambrosia was the only way to kill the offenders for the indiscretion and keep Wren out of harm’s way.
Here in Purgatory, it was a rare event. Rarer now after so many years. Because if they took Wren without permission—and they never had permission—one way or another Malum would kill them.
He’d give those men a gruesome death, but only after Wren was where he couldn’t see it, and too tired to hear their screams. Malum’s boy would gladly spread himself for any god he was told to serve. But Malum always watched to make sure he was safe and so Wren could see how pleased he made the god. When Wren was taken without permission, he still served those gods without a fight, but the guilt always made it difficult to erase their touch from Wren’s body.
Sometimes it took days, other times, weeks.
The suffering of Wren’s heart for coming without the permission of his god, for serving without Malum’s blessing, was the driving force behind the punishment of those men.
No Doxie should ever be unhappy. No Doxie should ever cry from sorrow. The only sobs should be when the fucking was violent and the cock deep enough to hurt. And tears were meant to be shed because the pleasure was so great, the Doxie’s heart threatened to burst.
Malum let Wren go. His limp cock flopped against his belly. Not too small, not too large, and beautifully shaped. Like Malum’s Doxie, it was perfect. Wren was a true thoroughbred, made long before Alton’s tinkering. Unlike later Doxies, Wren had been shaped by the coming and going of the Tide.
It was close again. The pull of that catastrophic event tugged at Malum’s senses almost with as much force as the call of his boy.
Malum gathered Wren into his arms and carried him to the tired mattress. Blankets made mounds on the top. Gifts from other gods willing to give up their meager belongings for a taste of Wren’s cum.
Sometimes Malum would place a drop in their palm. Sometimes he just made them watch while he fucked Wren into oblivion and took everything he had.
There had only been a few Doxies throughout time as pure as Wren, but despite his potency, Malum had begun to feel the effects of time. Wren was strong, but there was only so far his body could go. Malum’s worst fear was becoming so desperate for ambrosia he’d take it by blood.
If he killed Wren, Malum wouldn’t need ambrosia madness to send him on a wave of destruction. And unless his brother Marud killed him, Malum could lay waste to the world.
Wren whimpered and reached for Malum. Even in sleep, he sought his god’s touch. Malum smiled and ran his fingers down Wren’s cheek, neck, his chest. His boy breathed deep and relaxed.
Sleep was something Malum had no use for. He never did. Another reason why Wren needed to be stronger. Malum did not get the luxury of vast stretches of time in a suspended state where he was impenetrable and completely inactive. A way to survive times when there was no ambrosia or not enough ambrosia. That was a gift only bestowed on his brother.
If Taurus’s Doxie really was everything the rumors said, then he could potentially make Wren stronger. It would be a blessing and a curse. Malum would need to milk Wren whether he needed the ambrosia or not. He already used Wren every day in some fashion, but Malum’s appetite was also being met. It could take centuries for a god to catch up to ambrosia levels in a Doxie.
Malum may even have to concede to sharing Wren more often.
The idea of a Doxie stronger than Wren would have been easy to dismiss except for the other details Wren spoke about. Details Malum already knew. The bathing pools were warm again, the food fresh, there was bedding, salves, and oils.
Things Wren didn’t just deserve but needed. It had been a long time since Malum was able to properly care for his Doxie. And the neglect was a crack in the god’s pride. There was no excuse good enough to explain a Doxie going without. Even when the supplies to tend to their needs were nonexistent.
Malum went to collect what he had: a pot of water he kept near the fire so it would be warm, the cleaning salves made from fungi and moss, and the pitiful cloth Malum used to clean Wren. The fabric was rough so he had to be extra gentle. Wren would often pretend he didn’t care, but the patches of angry skin did not go unnoticed by Malum.
That would end after today. Once he’d taken care of Wren, he’d go to collect the lion’s share.
Although, if those things were available, why wait? It would mean carrying his boy to the hot springs, exposing him to those other gods. Less of a danger for Wren than Malum who had to fight the urge to kill them just for gazing at what was his.
No matter how proud it made him feel, there was always that vicious need for bloodshed.
Malum would bare it. His boy deserved greatness, and if it meant taking it from the others, he would gladly do it. Malum wrapped Wren in the thickest blanket and carried him down the hall, from his chambers. It had once been a place where gods gathered to eat. Malum took it because he didn’t want Wren to be cold.
There had been a time when the other gods let their Doxies sleep there with Wren. But the past decades with almost no food or necessities had made them paranoid. With good reason. More than a few gods had died and their Doxies stolen by another. It was a kind of coup that had to be done very carefully and very slowly, or the Doxie could also perish.
Most did die, but the few who survived had been routinely shared, or fucked by the god who stole them until his presence overrode the god he’d destroyed. The hunger of these men was another way Doxies were lost down here. And no Doxie should ever die. Most certainly not at the hands of a god.
The Doxies who’d survived were now kept under lock and key and used to build groups who were willing to bully and torment other gods of their food.
Malum entered the bathing area. There were a few gods present, but it was Taurus and his Doxie that caught his attention. The bull-god kneeled in front of his boy who stood in the shallow end of a pool. The god’s big hands worked soap over the Doxie’s skin. The gentle fragrance enhanced just how inadequate the fungus was for proper cleaning. Malum took up the pool next to Taurus.
Either Taurus was too focus on his boy. or he ignored Malum.
The rumors had called this new boy strong. Willowy, sinfully young in appearance, with one half of his body ravaged by scars, and standing at a height that would barely reach Wren’s shoulder, the rich scent of ambrosia bleeding from the boy’s skin could only be the product of magic.
Alton’s magic. But magic all the same.
Yes, this Doxie was strong, and the way he saturated the air with nectar promised he could be stronger.
Malum found a ledge just under the surface of the water and lay Wren down. Steam rolled out of the pool, creating a thin fog next to the floor. The water wasn’t just warm, it was perfect.
“I hear I have you to thank for this.” A basket next to the edge held jars of salve, real soap, and washing cloths. The thick weave promised the gentlest of touches to a boy’s skin.
Taurus didn’t look at Malum when he spoke. “Don’t thank me. I am not proud of what I had to do.”
“And what did you do?” Malum started to soak a cloth but decided to use his hands instead. He lathered his palms and began working his boy’s body. Caressing, massaging, fondling Wren’s balls. Wren stirred and made a sleepy sound.
“I vowed my honor to Wolf.”
Malum almost stopped. “He put you down here.”
“And he will get us out.”
Us.
“You don’t mean just you and your Doxie do you?”
Taurus lifted a clay bowl full of water and poured it over his Doxie’s head, rinsing away the soap. The boy watched Malum, but his gaze kept wandering to Wren.
“What is his name?”
“Aaron.”
A strong name, fitting for a Doxie who could serve a god like Taurus.
Wren opened his eyes and lifted his hand. Water dripped from his fingers. He struggled to sit up. Malum helped him.
His boy looked around. “Where—” He stared at Aaron before giving Malum a surprised expression. Malum soaped up Wren’s hair.
Taurus lifted Aaron from the pool and picked up a towel.
“What does Wolf want?” Malum could only imagine. And all of it was bad.
“What does he always want?” Taurus dried his Doxie while he stood at the edge.
Death to the gods. Extinction of Doxies. One would inevitably follow the other. No matter which order it occurred. Malum was careful to keep his anger bottled up so he wouldn’t hurt Wren when he touched him.
Malum encouraged Wren to lie over the edge. His boy did as asked. Malum soaped up his hands again. “And the Doxie?”
“He is the payment for my loyalty.”
“Is he worth the price?” Malum already knew the answer. A sideways glance from Taurus confirmed it. There was no price too high for a Doxie. Especially one who could make potent ambrosia.
Malum sank a soapy finger into Wren’s hole. He moaned and spread his legs wider.
Taurus laid out the towel he’d used to dry his Doxie. Aaron got on all fours, giving the god his ass. They already had a routine, which meant Taurus had been tending to the boy. It was good to see a god who was thankful for the services of a Doxie.
Aaron turned his head, watching Wren.
Wren watched Aaron.
Malum kissed his boy between his shoulders. “Do you like him?”
Wren nodded. But what Doxie didn’t like another Doxie? Especially down here where there were so few of them.
Malum added a second finger, and Wren arched his back.
Aaron’s cock jutted between his legs. Taurus opened one of the jars and scooped up a glob. Aaron lowered his chest to the ground and widened his stance.
Taurus chuckled. “I think they might be trying to impress one another.”
Malum left his fingers deep in his boy. “Is he right? Are you trying to impress the new Doxie?”
Wren’s cheeks turned red.
Malum removed his fingers and tugged Wren back into the water. Soap bubbles danced on the surface only to be swept away into a vent. A surge of hot water rushed through the ports feeding the pools. Wren sighed and dunked himself under the water, rinsing away the soap. How many years had it been since his boy had a warm bath?
Wren smiled. “Feels good.”
“I’m sure it does.”
No sound came from Aaron even when Taurus went from rubbing the salve over his back to sinking his finger into his ass. But he clenched his eye shut and opened his mouth. The bliss of his expression absolute perfection.
“What’s wrong with his voice?” Clearly Aaron should have been howling.
“He was attacked by a god-son, a Chimera. His voice and eye were taken.”
And this frail creature survived. Indeed, he was strong. There weren’t many gods who could live through a mauling from such a beast.
“He is impressive.”
Taurus pumped his fingers faster. “He is. He is very impressive.”
Malum did not miss the subtle movement of Wren’s left shoulder. “That is mine, Wren.”
His boy dropped his chin. “Sorry, sir. He’s just so…” Wren stared again.
Taurus finished applying the cream to his boy’s hole. Aaron looked at him over his shoulder.
“I think he feels shorted.” Malum grinned.
“He’s had the mouths of fifty men on his cock in the past two days, and he still gets hard when I fuck him.”
Aaron’s cheeks reddened, but his smile stayed. And what a beautiful smile it was. This was a Doxie who was down here for no reason. He hadn’t followed a god. He hadn’t committed a crime. Knowing Wolf, Aaron was stolen, but if he was Alton’s, how had Wolf managed to get Aaron away from Sanctuary?
Wren touched Malum’s arm. He looked at his boy.
“May I, sir…” Wren glanced at Aaron again.
Taurus met Malum’s gaze. The bull-god gave a small nod.
“Go.” Malum waved Wren out of the pool, and he stumbled up the edge, his steps unsteady.
“Would you like for Aaron to tend to him on your behalf?” Taurus moved to the edge of the pool farthest from the two boys and sat on the ledge.
“I think that would be very nice.”
The smile Wren gave Malum was enough to make the god’s heart sing. It had been far too long since his boy showed happiness somewhere other than under his god.
And there was nothing more lovely than the pure joy of a Doxie.
*****
The pretty brown Doxie with deep auburn hair held his hand out to Aaron.
“My name is Wren.”
Aaron took the other boy’s hand and wove their fingers together. He stepped closer, and Wren kissed Aaron on the cheek. “What’s your name?”
Aaron stood on his toes and put his lips close to the boy’s ear. He turned his head and caught Aaron’s mouth. He grinned and made Wren stop.
Aaron forced the air through his shredded vocal cords. “Aaron.”
Wren petted the scars on Aaron’s face, shoulder, then his side. Aaron dropped his gaze. Did he repulse the other Doxie? He had to. As perfect as Wren was, with his flawless skin, his beautiful dark eyes.
Wren wrapped his arms around Aaron and pressed their mouths together. The sweet flavor of Wren’s tongue invaded Aaron’s mouth, probing, searching, commanding Aaron to submit. Not like a god, Wren’s dominance was playful. Aaron dug his fingers into Wren’s butt cheeks.
Wren moaned.
This wasn’t the first time Aaron wished he could make those sounds.
Aaron broke the kiss and Wren ran his hands up and down Aaron’s body. His light touch was so much like Kaleb’s.
The pain in Aaron’s chest flared, tears pooled in his eyes, and his bottom lip trembled.
Wren cast a worried look at his god, then Taurus. “Did I do something wrong?”
Aaron shook his head.
“I think he was taken from his god,” Taurus said.
“You don’t know?” Malum climbed out of the pool.
“He can’t speak, and I can’t read. But from his reaction to certain things, how he watches other gods, and he reaches for someone not there when he sleeps.”
He did? Aaron wouldn’t doubt it. He dreamed of Kaleb every night. Sometimes they were with Leo, but usually, they were with each other.
Wren held Aaron’s face. “Did you lose your god?”
Aaron nodded.
“Did someone take you from him?”
Aaron nodded again.
Tears pooled in Wren’s eyes. His beautiful smile threatened to fall. He watched his god.
“No one will ever take you from me, boy.” Malum joined Taurus at the edge of the pool. Aaron had never seen a god with skin the color of rock and eyes darker than onyx.
“But someone took you.” Wren hugged Aaron. The feel of the other boy’s body against Aaron’s was a comfort he didn’t realize he’d missed so badly. Wren peppered kisses over Aaron’s shoulder, up his neck where he latched on to Aaron’s earlobe and sucked.
Aaron shuddered as the tease became a static dance down his chest right to his cock.
“I want to fuck you.” Wren pinched the nipple on Aaron’s good side. Aaron moved the boy’s hand to his scarred one. There was only a moment where Wren looked unsure, then he twisted it, and Aaron gasped. “You like that.”
Aaron nodded.
“I’m glad.”
Aaron twisted Wren’s nipples, and the boy whimpered. “Will you let me, Aaron? Will you let me fuck you?”
Aaron glanced at Taurus, the god dipped his chin. Aaron pulled Wren down to the towel. Wren got behind Aaron and impaled Aaron on his cock.
Aaron rocked back meeting Wren’s thrust until the echo of their bodies slapping together filled the cavern.
“Good. So good.” Wren held himself deep for a moment, then resumed bucking his hips hard enough to send Aaron onto his elbows. Wren moved his hands from Aaron’s hips to his chest. He twisted both of his nipples in time with his thrusts.
Aaron’s silent howl wheezed from his gaping mouth.
“Don’t come, boy.” Taurus held Aaron’s gaze. “Do not come.”
Aaron wouldn’t. If it pleased his new Master, he would hold back till the pain made him black out. Serving so many gods over the past few days had made complying with the order much easier. Not because Aaron didn’t want to come but because he did not want to give up his ambrosia to the god sucking him until Taurus told him to. Failure resulted in punishment. Success let Aaron feel the crop. And he wanted to feel it every night.
Wren’s thrusts went frantic. Aaron pushed back, shortening the movement. Wren jerked, arching against Aaron, and his cock jumped in Aaron’s ass.
“I haven’t gotten to do that for so long.” Wren slumped over Aaron’s back.
Aaron turned his head enough to catch the other boy’s mouth. The kiss they exchanged was nothing more than a feather of lips and the tip of their tongues.
“And here I thought you were too worn out,” Malum said. “Perhaps next time I will milk you a bit more.”
Wren’s cheeks turned pink. “I didn’t spill anything, at least I don’t think.” He pulled out and touched Aaron’s hole. “I’m sure there was nothing left, sir.”
“Will you let him take from Aaron?” Taurus kept his gaze on his boy.
Aaron glanced at Wren.
The silence in the bathing room was punctuated by the heavy breathing of both Doxies and the trickle and gurgle of water entering and exiting the pools.
“Can he really make Wren stronger?” Malum watched Aaron now. He tried to hold the god’s gaze but couldn’t.
“I believe he can.”
“How is that possible?”
“If Wolf isn’t lying—” And Taurus said it like it was a rare event. “Alton made a Doxie who can make other Doxie’s more potent.”
“His magic?”
“They call it genetics, but yes, Alton’s magic.”
“Is this other Doxie how Aaron got so strong?”
Taurus grunted. “I believe so. I think perhaps they were together a lot.”
Aaron blinked away the tear trying to fall. He and Kaleb were together a lot.
“Would being with Aaron make you happy Wren?”
“Yes, yes it would. I mean, yes sir. Yes, Master, it would very much.”
Aaron sat back on his heels and Wren grabbed his hand. Wren would never be Kaleb, but he was a Doxie and playing with him would be so nice.
“Would you like that too, little one?” Taurus’s tail flicked beside his thigh. His god was agitated but not in a bad way. Aaron hadn’t seen enough of his moods to know what all his tail movements meant, but they reflected thoughts he didn’t say out loud.
Aaron nodded.
Taurus stood, and so did Aaron. “You will stay with Malum tonight, Aaron. Keep his boy company. Do this and I will crop you when you come back.”
Taurus was going to leave him, with…
Now Aaron realized where he’d heard the name before. Malum, the god who once killed a Doxie.
Malum continued to watch Aaron. “Are you not afraid I will take him from you?”
Taurus’s nostrils flared, but his tail remained still. “You are too honorable to do that. You know the value of a Doxie.”
“I do. Which is all the more reason to steal him away. Especially if he’s as strong as you claim.”
“I will trust you to do the right thing. If you don’t, then I will kill you.”
Malum chuckled.
Taurus started to walk away, Aaron hurried to follow. The god turned. “Stay. Obey Malum as you would me.”
But he didn’t want to leave Taurus.
“Do this for his Doxie, Aaron. He hasn’t gotten to see his friends in many years. The conditions down here have made it too dangerous to allow Doxies to be together.”
Then why would Taurus leave him with Malum?
Taurus knelt. “I am not throwing you away. I promised you I will always protect you.”
Aaron put his hand on Taurus’s muzzle and petted him to his ears. If Malum didn’t keep his word, Aaron wasn’t sure if Taurus could take him back. If he had to kill Malum, then what would happen to Wren?
Taurus caught one of Aaron’s hands and rubbed his chin across the back. Apparently that was Taurus’s way of kissing. The shape of his head made it impossible to do it like most people. Aaron held Taurus’s hand and did the same.
The god huffed. “Go. Be well. Be happy. You are changing this place in all the right ways, and I couldn’t be more proud. I want you to show Malum just how strong…how special you are.”
Aaron let Taurus go, and the god left without another look back.
A gentle touch brushed Aaron’s fingers. Wren stood beside him. He wove their hands together.
“Don’t be scared. Malum is a good god, an honest and strong god.”
Malum gathered up one of the baskets with jars of cream. The only sound came from the creak of wicker and the clink of clay jars. Did the man even breathe?
As if he heard Aaron thinking about him, Malum met his gaze and smiled. There was no doubt he was terrifying, but deep down Aaron knew Wren was right.
More than that, Taurus was right. Wren deserved to be happy. All Doxies deserved to be happy.