GAY* M, part 02 Between a Brock and a Hard Place
By Sean
Sean_dude88@yahoo.com
This is a sort of crossover story I guess, combining science fiction, fantasy, and gay humor. It is not the usual sex-filled jerk-off story, but I hope it may entertain. It is based loosely on "Another Fine Myth", one of the Myth (or MYTH) series by Robert Asprin, 1978, which I discovered in paperback from Ace Books, New York, in the 1990s.
This is the second part of the story. While I have crafted it to stand on its own as much as possible, I would advise readers to start with part one. For those not of a patient nature, I offer the following summary.
We last left our hero, 16-year-old Skeeve, about to join the GAYM -- Galactic Alliance of Young Magicians. Having met Aahz the wizard (not to be confused with the phony Wizard of Oz), Skeeve was then enlisted by circumstance into Aahz's plan to avenge the murder of Skeeve's prior mentor, and prevent further murders by the rogue Isstvan.
GAYM, part 02 Between a Brock and a Hard Place
Having just heard about D'Bois Academy (sometimes pronounced Do Bwa, but more often as Da Boyz), and learned of the existence of the GAYM (pronounced "game"), I was eager to learn more, but also a bit apprehensive as to what now lay in my future.
I looked over to Brockhurst, the young Imp my partner and I had captured, now asleep. Of the three Imps (Throckwaddle, whom I was impersonating, Higgins, and Brockhurst) hired by Isstvan as assassins to kill my former teacher (and lover), Garkin, only Brockhurst was still alive. Garkin had managed to kill Throckwaddle the first Imp (thus saving me), when attacked, but he'd been killed in the process. Then Aahz had killed Higgins the second Imp when He got too `IMP-pert,' as Aahz would say. Impertinence and Impudence seemed to be major flaws among Imps. Brockhurst was different from most Imps, and that was what had kept him alive. Aahz said Brockhurst showed all the rare GOOD qualities of Imps -- especially his ability to IMP-revise or improvise. He also seemed to have a great desire to prove himself worthy, and to improve himself, or "IMP-prove' himself Aahz would say. I wondered what was going to become of him, but I also wondered what was to become of me.
"Aahzy, you aren't just going to dump me with D'Bois, are you?" I asked my catlike companion. Aahz was like a smaller, more handsome, better proportioned version of the Sphinx, which he claimed was built in homage to one of his Purrfect race, a traveler that had visited Earth thousands of years ago.
"So THAT's what's been bothering you," Aahz replied. "With everything in our futures looking bright for the first time in days, I wondered why you were so blue. I'm not `dumping' you, but your being with D'Bois and getting in the GAYM is the best thing for you right now, until I get my powers back and can launch a plan against Isstvan. And I've still got to figure out what to do with his flunky Imp, Brockhurst."
"The reminds me," I said, "is Isstvan an Imp?"
"I should say not!"
"Then what is he? Is he Devo, or what?"
"I think he's PART Devo, part Giant, that makes him Defiant, " (Pronounced De FIE Ant) "or no, I think that makes him Deviant," (DEE Vie Ant) said Aahz.
"A defiant Deviant," I said. "Figures."
I awoke before dawn to find Aahz gently shaking young Brockhurst, trying to waken him.
"Oh Rock," said Brockhurst, sleepily. "Mmmm." Aahz shock him bit harder. "No Higgins, not tonight. Let me sleep." Aahz shook him again. Soon Brockhurst awoke with a jolt. "Sir!?"
"I've decided what to do with you," Aahz told him, now that Brockhurst was awake.
"So, you ARE a Perv- a Purrfect with desires." Brockhurst stopped himself from using the derogatory pervert', for to call a Purrfect that to his face was invite your doom. Such rudeness had cost the Imp Higgins his life. "Very well sir, let's get this over with." Brockhurst climbed out of his sleeping bag and began to disrobe. I began to drool. This Imp was HOT! Only a little older than I, (he looked about 19 or 20 in human years) he was the youngest-looking of the 3 Imps (Throckwaddle, whom I was impersonating, I guessed HAD been 21). Brockhurst was much more human-like than the others were; he had no horns on his head, and had a wider more human face with a cute dimpled smile. Only his pointy ears, his diminutive stature, and his still ruddy (though not impish red) complexion suggested he was an Imp. I began to try to probe into his mind to learn all I could about him. This was a trick I'd learned on my own -- not from Garkin's Standard' book of spells but from one of the more advanced books.
"You misunderstand me," said Aahz. "I mean it's time to send you on your way to Isstvan."
"But it isn't even light yet, sir!"
"It's almost dawn, it will be light soon," argued Aahz. "Listen, Brock if we take much more time, your employer is going to wonder what's happening and send someone, or something after you, and us. Maybe it wouldn't bother You, Brockhurst, but I don't want an unknown quantity of unknown assassins tracking me. Go back to Isstvan. Tell him that your buddies Throckwaddle and Higgins were killed in the attempt, but you managed to kill Garkin. Say nothing more. Refuse any future assignments, and find a way to stay close to Isstvan to observe him. You'll be our spy until we get there. You help us, and I WILL reward you -- there's nothing I couldn't get for you -- after all, I'm Purrfect."
"What makes you trust me so, sir?" asked Brockhurst. "And why should I trust you? For I have long been told that Imps and Purrfects are enemies."
"Then what makes you treat me with such respect?" returned Aahz.
"You have shown your powers by trapping my friend and killing our commander."
"Cut the act," said Aahz, "I know you're not afraid of me."
"Not for myself, now that I know you would free me, but I fear for my friend Throckwaddle, or `Rock' as I know him."
"Such loyalty and love. You're unlike any other Imp I've met," said Aahz.
It took me a minute to remember that I had not yet dropped my disguise, and that Brockhurst still did not know that the real Throckwaddle, or Rock' as he'd called him, was dead. This could be a good thing if Brock' (as I decided to call him) thought I'd be held as a sort of ransom.
"So, if I am to return to Isstvan," said Brock, "how will I be going? Will you be sending me with a D-Hopper, or by spell?"
"Just teleport yourself there like you teleport yourself around here," said Aahz, a bit nervously. I wondered if he feared Brock had guessed his weakness, for Aahz had lost his powers when Garkin, demonstrating protective spells to me, had put a constraining spell on Aahz, then been killed before he could reverse or remove the spell.
"Sir, do you think Rock and I would still be in your company if we had such power? I can teleport on this planet because I have been trained to do so. To visualize navigation across the cosmos to Deville (where we left Isstvan) that is beyond the Collective skill of Rock and myself. It would take tremendous energy and be dangerous for us to try, for who knows where we would go with our limited knowledge of star charts. Experience is the best teacher, and we have not had sufficient experience yet. Higgins was our guide, our passport, but you killed him."
"Then we'll be going on to D'Bois," said Aahz. "I want to check what you Imps have told me about Isstvan with whatever is known by D'Bois."
"Then you definitely will need me, or you'll never find D'Bois," said Brock.
"Isn't it on a force line?" Aahz asked.
"No, it's on a force Spring." (this last word almost shouted.)
"A force Spring?" Aahz was awed. "Those are Incredibly rare!"
"What's a force Spring?" I asked, breaking off my mind probe, sounding as though I'd just been awakened.
"Oh Rock, didn't know you were awake."
I was glad Brock had addressed me. Had Aahz addressed me, in his startled state, he might have called me by my real name of Skeeve, and ruined our deception.
"It's a rare occurrence where geothermal, mineral, and natural energies combine in such a way that Magical energy just bubbles up like a spring," Aahz told me.
"You understand correctly, sir," said Brock. "It is that blessing of its location that has allowed it to exist in such secret, and thus in peace. It cannot be found by tracing force lines. So you had better keep me, for how will you find your way to D'Bois without me?"
"How does an Imp know so much about a school on Earth?" Aahz asked.
"In truth, I am only half Imp," said Brock. "My mother was an earthling, a human student at the girls' extension of D'Bois, about 20 earth years ago, when it was still pronounced Do Bwa', (after the founder Dubois) where she was raped by an Imp. That's why I'm not proud of my Imp heritage. Beings like me at the academy are called "D'Imple" -- a human would pronounce that dimple,' a product of an Imp breeding with people. We are increasingly rare, now that the Academy has become all-boy, and is now pronounced Da Boyz.' The school board felt it safest to become a boys-only school so as to avoid unfortunate half-breeds like me. Shunned as a pointy-eared freak by most humans, even most of my human relatives, I was sent to father's planet of Imp ewer once I finished at the Academy. Most Imps have not been kind to me, because I am not all-Imp. My given name, by my mother, is simply Brock.' Because of my being a half-breed, I was called Brock the cursed,' which over time became Brockhurst.' Throckwaddle was my only real friend at the Academy, but he got kicked out for some reason. By the time I finished at D'Bois, being rather angry for the way most of the universe had treated me, I jumped at the opportunity to become an assassin. Now, as I see what is involved, I see why Higgins did not choose me to be first on our assignment. He probably had doubts that I could do it, and now I have such doubts myself."
"I have a confession," I said, now knowing all I needed to know about Brock. Aahz looked at me with a puzzled expression. "I'm more human than you think." Aahz was looking worried now. "I too am D'Imple," I announced. "And I now go by Skeeve. Throckwaddle was just a nickname."
"Wow," said Brock. "That explains a lot. And I always thought you had kind of a funny walk back at the academy."
"Ah yes, the Rock waddle,' say it fast and you get Throckwaddle.' You see Brock, I knew I was gay but I didn't know if I should reveal that. I supposed my natural walk would have been rather effeminate so I tried to walk more macho."
"You looked like Nathan Lang in The Birdcage' -- you know Le Cage aux Folles,' when he does the John Wayne walk," laughed Brock. It was the first time I had heard him laugh, and I loved it.
I began to change my transformation/transfiguration spell of deception. I began to melt away the features of Throckwaddle to let hints of my real human ones show through. Studying Brock's face, I began to choose some of his features to blend with mine. When I finished, I was basically a pointy-eared Skeeve. "I'm surprised you never learned, or used, the art of deception if your appearance gave you trouble, Brock," I said.
"I wanted to be accepted for me," Brock said. "I didn't want to have to live a lie. This is what you really look like? I loved you before, but you're even more beautiful with your human features."
"Sorry to break up the reunion, guys," said Aahz, "but the sun's been up for some time now, and I'd like to get to D'Bois while I'm still young."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
It was mid afternoon before we got to D'Bois. It appeared classes had just finished for the day as several boys were already on the grounds, and more were making their ways outside. A whole school of nothing but magical boys aged 11 to 19 or so; the Hormones would be raging; I knew mine were. Of course not ALL the boys were good looking, but enough of them were to excite me.
I asked one particularly attractive boy (he looked about 15) "Where can I find the headmaster?"
"You're looking at him," the boy replied. "When it comes to giving head, I'm a master!" the boy explained with a wink and mischievous grin. (Oh I was going to LIKE this place!) "Seriously, I suppose you want Sir Sebastian: Master Bastian, or, as we like to call him, Masturbation.' He's a Devo, and not only is he headmaster, he's also a great teacher. His office is first floor up, first door on the left." Then the boy disappeared, literally, having transported himself somewhere. I don't know how long I stood there, staring at where this Adonis had stood.
"Careful there," Brock's voice brought me out of my trance. "That boy could be a Troilus. They often look and act like trollops as teenagers. If you want him, (and he certainly seemed to be trolling for sex with you) be faithful as long as he wants you. The Troilii (pronounced `trolley') can be great friends, but you don't want to give one reason to turn on you."
"Why, what might he do to me?" I asked.
"He'd fight you. A Troilus is a great lover, but also a great fighter. It's said `Hell hath no fury like a Troilus scorned.' They become Trolls -- green, mean fighting machines."
"Really?" said Aahz. "I hope we meet him again. A boy of those talents could be quite useful against Isstvan."
With a mix of fear and excitement, I entered the school.
To be continued