The Brothers of the Beasts Chapter 6
The Brothers of the Beasts
By Araddion
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Chapter 6 "Saga of the Outlaw Brethren, Part 3"
_Ever since the saurian tribes arose, we have found them the most useful of idiots. Fort Cataract's End presents us with a problem. Originally Established by the Golden Republic on the Greenwater's northern bank to guard their river trade, it has grown into a raucous town of filthy morals. It is also the spearpoint of the expanding Golden Republic and a threat to our long-term designs. We think it imperative that you implement a plan that will safeguard these designs. From our perspective, the tribes are expendable. _-- Secret communique from the Supreme Policy Bureau of the Goldenhorn Morognon to parties unknown
Heels beating his horse's lathered flanks, Owann tore along the lane. Rage twisted his face, a frightening thing to see, but agony was in his heart.
"Arik! Arik!" Owann's cries rolled across the desolate, wind-swept slopes. "Where are you?"
Owann knew what had happened but didn't understand. How could any living creature simply proclaim someone guilty of perversion and kick them out? It was inhuman.
The sweat flooding his eyes half-blinded him. The countryside rippled. Had he -- throbbing with fury, seized by panic -- ridden past Arik? Or worse ... Arik's corpse? Just the intimation that his brother's body -- incomparably symmetrical, strong, golden, infinitely precious ... had been butchered by Dwarven axes threatened to bring on tears.
Shadows lengthened across the hillsides. Onward rode Owann, half-naked, hatless, shoeless, weaponless, undaunted in this twilight hour.
"Arik! Arik!" He kept shouting even after he became hoarse.
When night fell, it was pitch black, for the elder moon was a mere sliver, and its twin younger siblings tarried somewhere below the horizon. A country boy's pragmatism overcame a country boy's wounded heart, and he halted his pell-mell rush.
Without flint or steel, without tent, without blanket, without even a canteen of clean water, he cuddled beside his horse for warmth during the bitter night. When he awoke dew-soaked him, and he shivered.
"Stay with me," he murmured, caressing the horse. "I don't have oats to give you but ... we've got to find Arik! We've got to"
Cresting a low, bare ridge, he studied the valley below. One of the hamlets that fringed the foothills nestled down there. Wisps of smoke rose into the pastel dawn, and tilled fields shimmered with young crops. His heels tapped his horse. Entering the hamlet, he scowled at a low-built but fancy dwelling. That residence must belong to a Dwarf ... a Dwarf who probably owned most of the countryside.
A crowd, almost entirely human, had gathered near the well at the hamlet's center. A Dwarf, standing on a barrel, shouted angrily at them. Someone had broken into his garden shed last night. Flints, knives, and a sack of potatoes were missing. He demanded the raising of a posse. Demanded a rider be sent to warn the Overseer Sauzmalk. The crowd seemed quietly bemused, more prone to hem and haw than act. Silently, Owann turned his horse around and rode back up the hamlet's street.
Owann cut through the Dwarf's side yard. On the shed, a door hung from a broken hinge. Tracks in the dew led to -- then across -- a meadow behind the garden. As the Sun rose, the dew evaporated, but by then Owann smelled smoke and roasting potatoes. The moment he saw a glint of blond hair, exposed by grass waving in the breeze, a big grin bloomed on his face.
"Took your sweet fucking time, didn't you, bro?" said Arik, plucking a smoking potato out of the bed of coals with a fork. "Here. Have one. I stole it myself."
The potato wasn't tasty, nor was it fully cooked, but it was food, so Owann set to work on it. Arik filled him in on what had happened in the piggery. His description of Sauzmalk's sex organs made Owann gag.
"Tentacles?"
"Yup. With a hole right in the middle. I reckon when Dwarves do it, those tentacles do like this." Arik interlaced his fingers. "Betcha the long one puts goo up the other's hole."
"Ugh! If it'd been me ... I'd have puked like a motherfucker."
Grinning, Arik folded his arms behind his head and stretched out in the grass. "Can't say the same. Ever since we started, you know, the buttsex ... I gotta admit, I'm into the freaky shit!" His blue eyes twinkled merrily.
Owann, aghast, stared at his brother. "You're shitting me, right? Tell me you're shitting me. Doing it with a Dwarf? Blech!"
Arik laughed. "You know what really pisses me off? Sauzmalk's as big a freak as us both! Now who was the two-faced shitfucker who had us whipped, huh?"
"He didn't want his Pa guessing what was going on in his weird little head." A fierce expression hardened Owann's face. "Little fucker's going to pay. And he's going to pay double for what he did to you, bro!"
With an enraged Dwarf calling for a posse, it didn't seem smart to linger. Owann swung into the saddle. Arik, the canvas sack into which he stashed his filched goods slung over his shoulder, settled in behind his brother. They set off north, left the valley behind, and rode onto the Saurian Steppes themselves.
"What're we gonna do?" asked Owann. "We gotta eat, and you don't have no more than three more potatoes in that sack." He belched. "And I don't much care for Dwarf potatoes."
Arik settled his chin on his brother's shoulder. For a long time, he said nothing, swaying with the motion of the horse. His eyes were dreamy, and you might've thought he was savoring his brother's proximity, or strength, or pungent teenaged funk. In fact, Arik's eyes were studying the broad, undulating sea of grass, imagining a future.
"I reckon we oughta be bandits," he announced.
Owann's head snapped around. "Going after the saurians? You're nuts, bro. Fucking nuts!"
"Nah! We leave them alone; hell, who wants to get eaten alive? Think, you tard! Merchants gotta have merchandize, right? Most of `em fetch it from that town out west on the Greenwater, that Fort Cataract's End, right? And they gotta move it by wagons, right? I say we find one of `em. We got knives. We grab food, water, maybe a horse, then skedaddle."
Owann thought about it. Robbing? He didn't care for that. But they didn't have much choice, did they? "Fine. But I say ... if they're human we let `em go."
Arik grinned and patted Owann's thigh. "Fuck the Dwarves!"
A little later, something rigid began throbbing against Owann's back. He shot a look over his shoulder.
"Wanna?"
"You read my mind, bro!".
The brothers did it like dogs in the grass, humping, growling, writhing, juicing, lying together hand in hand, then mounting up and doing it all over again. Life was back the way it should be.
The next day, the snowy peaks of the Goldenhorn Mountains disappeared into the haze on the southern horizon. The brothers felt cut loose, a little adrift, for the mountains had been the pillars of their young lives since birth. They were in the real world now, on the cusp of starvation, and they had only each other to rely upon. Stomachs growling, they searched the rolling plain for hints of passing wagons. Late in the afternoon, they found a rutted track. Crouching in the tall grass, they waited in ambush, but there wasn't any payoff until the next morning.
A distant rumbling woke the brothers. They disentangled their bodies and, still stark naked, grabbed knives. They crawled through the tall grass. Arik thumped Owann's shoulder.
"You got the first throw," he whispered. "I'll do the distracting."
Arik slunk away. Owann peered from behind a thicket. Between banks of tall grass, two donkeys drew a cart. A Dwarf held the reins. Goods were heaped in the back. Best of all, a tethered pony trotted behind it. Owann's thumb and forefinger closed on his blade, and he waited.
Thirty feet away, Arik leaped to his feet. "Yoo-hoo! Sexy Dwarf dude! Wanna play with my big kah-kah-kah cock?"
The muscular blond brazenly fondled his prodigious shaft. Shocked – or horrified – or titillated -- the Dwarf's jaw dropped. Owann flung hard. His knife spun straight and true. Thwock! Choking on blood, the Dwarven carter grabbed for the blade quivering in his throat. Arik's thrown knife pierced the Dwarf's right eye. He was dead before he hit the ground.
"Easier than shitting grease!" Arik smirked as he jogged up.
Owann grinned back fiercely. "I think I'm into this bandit thing!"
The cart was loaded mostly with forged goods. A pair of short swords would serve them nicely and there was always a need for spare knives. There weren't any bows but there were steel-tipped arrows, which they kept for future use. There was provender galore: spice meat, dried fruit, grain. They found only one canteen; disappointing, but nevertheless a step up. Arik's long legs looked ridiculous on the pony. The newly baptized highwaymen released the donkeys, having no use for them, but the stupid beasts wandered away northward.
"Poor guys," lamented Owann. "Saurianss gonna eat `em!"
Leaving the Dwarf's carcass for the circling vultures, the brothers headed south to escape any potential pursuit. They camped at dusk, pitching a stolen tent and kindling a huge fire. Dinner, though plain by home standards, tasted wonderful. Side by side, the brothers stretched out by the fire. A billion stars glimmered in the sky.
"Did you ever try to get it on with Ma?"
"Huh?"
Startled from drowsiness, Owann blinked rapidly. Arik was naked, his golden skin bathed in flickering firelight. Shadow outlined the muscular details of that beloved body like an artist's pen.
"You mean really?" Owann snickered. "Nah. Listen up. True confession. I never had the hots for Ma. I bullshitted you because ... I didn't want you to find out ... I had the hots for you, bro."
"Oh. Um. Can I tell you something?"
"Yup."
"I got the hots for Ma." Arik chuckled ruefully." Your fault, bro, your fault! You put the idea in my head, you dirty fuck."
Owann's gaze slid away from Arik's bright blue eyes, over the sculpture that was his torso, and onward to that groin. Arik's burgeoning cock leaped off his big ballsack and slithered along his inner thigh.
"Can I tell you something, Owann?" murmured Arik. "I mean ... something bad."
"Done answered that question already, dipshit."
"After, you know, we did the buttsex the first time and after, you know, Shitmalk whipped us ... and then, you know, we couldn't do the buttsex ... well, I was going fucking crazy. I was thinking about how hot it was drilling your butt. And I was wondering if Ma's cooze felt good as your butthole."
Blood began to swell Owann's cock. He shimmied out of his trousers. Arik's mighty dong lurched towards rigidity, but his eyes were fixed on the infinite sky.
"So ... I figured if you wanted to do it with me ... maybe Ma wanted to do it with me, too. Didn't have the balls to do anything about it. At first. At first. I kept jerking off, thinking about Ma. About Ma ... seeing my dong. Wanting it. Fuck! I kept spooging the ceiling, thinking about it!"
Arik's teenaged shaft quivered. Blood pounded in the veins webbing it. His foreskin was retracted just enough to expose the drizzling precum that joined, like spider silk, his cockhead to his granite-hard belly. Owann felt like growling.
"But, you know, jerking off ... just thinking, just thinking ... wasn't good enough. Not after the buttsex."
An embarrassed silence fell. Owann broke it: "Tell me, you fucker!"
Arik cleared his throat and spat. "I really tried, bro. I really tried to fuck our Ma."
Owann's heart thundered. "You shitting me?"
"Nope."
"Tell me!"
"Them welts from the whipping were healing ... and they itched something fierce. Drove me nuts. One morning, I just couldn't take that itching no more. That was my excuse but ... you know, I just wanted to tempt her. Fucking tempt her ... and see if she wanted to play. Got up really early, went out to the water trough. I did it naked, bro. Just walked through the house stark naked and went outside for a wash."
"Ballsy, bro. Ma always gets up early for the milking."
"Yeah. Yeah! And when she opened the door, there I was. I was wet ... soaping up ... naked as the day I came out her pussy. And there she was. Ma. Looking at me, bro. Looking at my butt. Just staring!"
Wordlessly, Owann rolled over to straddle Arik. He was face to groin with his brother's junk, one of the happiest places on Erthe. By the gods, if his brother's body didn't smell like the soil itself: dark, vital, fertile. He seized Arik's cock by the base, aimed it at his lips, and began nuzzling on the curds of headcheese just under the foreskin. Arik shuddered from head to toe.
"I looked at her over my shoulder. She didn't see it ... because all she could do was stare at my ass. Then ... Ma looked up ... and our eyes met. And then ... oh, yeah, do that thing with your tongue, bro! ... and then ... and then ... Ma blushed! And I knew she was hot for me!"
Owann cupped Arik's balls in one hand. He withdrew his tongue from its explorations under Arik's foreskin. His lips snuggled tight around Arik's cockhead, and he began impaling his face. He didn't gag when Arik's cockhead plugged his throat, nor did he choke once he got his brother's dripping, incestuous cock all the way down.
"You know what I did then, bro? You know what I did? I turned around, Owann. I turned around real slow ... real slow ... and I showed Ma my hardon. I got hard for her the moment I heard the back door open, so fucking hard I swear I almost passed out! By the fucking gods, Owann, I was so fucking hard for our mother!"
Arik began to twist and writhe and buck erratically. Owann slavered on the enormous cock like a wolf devouring his favorite bone.
"Bro, Ma had this look on her face. This look ... you should've seen it. She looked just like you ... when you look at me ... and you want what I got up your butt ... and I knew Ma wanted to fuck me. Hell, bro – ungh! Yeah! – I know Ma wants to fuck us both! I know it!"
Arik fell silent. Owann, bobbing manically on his brother's cock, sensed the struggle going on inside Arik. Sense the barely restrained explosion.
"That ain't all, bro ... ungh! ... I just held it there. Big sausage on show! Let her see all she wanted to see. I showed off my prong to Ma, Owann. And then ... and then ... I twitched. I twitched it `cause I wanted Ma to know I knew she wanted my nut. Dude, I showed Ma ... she could get it. And then ... and then ... I cocked my head. You know, kinda inviting her over. Like you ask a girl to dance. Ma was coming for me, bro. Ma was coming over to get stuffed by what you got down your throat. She took the step. She took it. She gave herself away, Owann. Ma's as big a perv as we are. And then ... and then ... I dunno, I think she heard Pa! Or maybe I was too much for her. She dropped the milk pail and ran back in the house. But listen, bro, listen!" Arik growled. "I almost did it with our Ma!"
A convulsion twisted Arik's body, and the blond teenager began dousing Owann's tonsils with torrents of thick spunk.
"Yeah, Ma!" Arik's brain blazed with fantasy. "Have my baby! Have my two-headed freak baby!"
Several days later, the brothers sighted another wagon, but it was driven by humans. They let it pass unmolested. They endured two foodless knights and drained their canteen. Luckily, the next morning, they espied from a mound a trio of ox-drawn wagons trundling south across the steppes. The drivers were Dwarves. Fair game. Swords upraised, the brothers charged. Drawn by those lumbering oxen, there was no escape. The brothers cut down two drivers. They let the third go because he was shooting arrows at them.
The crates and sacks in the beds were empty. Rummaging after food, Owann found a small locked chest hidden under a bench. Arik smashed open the lock. Owann goggled.
"Fuck, bro! Silver! Gold!"
And gems, too, little amethysts and glowing opals. The stolen provisions found in the other cart were of good quality and included a small cask of wine. The brothers had sloppy drunk sex all night long. It was Arik who, frying eggs in a pan over the fire next morning, suggested how they could dispose of their ill-gotten specie.
"Let's spend it!"
Owann, unsuccessfully trying to rub away a hangover, said, "Where?"
"Fort Cataract's End, dumbass!"
"Hmm." Owann looked up. "You know how to get there?"
"Bro! It's west! West of here! Big town. We can find it easy-peasy!"
A week of riding west across the steppes brought them to lands where human homesteads sprouted like mushrooms. The sight of humans living free of Dwarven control sent their spirits soaring. All sorts of helpful folk pointed the way to Fort Cataract's End.
Owann and Arik weren't small-town boys; they were rural boys, and the ride down Main Street almost overwhelmed them. Crowds surged this way and that like ungovernable tides. Shouting peddlers hawked goods they'd never known existed. The buildings were something out of fairy tales. Stores with glass windows! Houses with three stories! There were even stone edifices, permanent as the Erthe beneath their feet.
As they jauntily strutted through the gilt-and-leather lobby of the poshest hotel in Fort Cataract's End, they were conscious of eyes tracking them. The lads put this down to their raw, animal sexuality, emphasized by their shirtless torsos and their bare feet. Then Owann realized a good number of looks were, in fact, scandalized. Good thing they'd decided against a celebratory buttfuck behind the cuspidors, then. To keep the desk clerk from throwing them out, Owann slapped a handful of silver coins on the counter. They had a room within minutes.
Nestled in feather beds for the first time in their lives, the brothers slept a day and a night. Owann was astounded that a bellboy was more than happy to bring them steaming water with which to fill the tub. After bathing, he and Arik fucked in a real bed.
"Too bad it wasn't Ma's," said Owann.
"Aw, bro, don't get me started!"
"Do me again?"
"Roll over, then."
"Yeah! Put your babies up my butt!"
After breakfast, the brothers went out in search of clothing. Swank suits and elaborate robes weren't their style, and though the one or two Elves they passed inspired them to search out a shop that sold loincloths, Fort Cataract's End lacked one. They emerged from an outfitter clad in fine shirts, which they left unbuttoned because they felt they should have a trademark look. They stuffed their trim hips, their jutting butts, and muscled thighs into tight jeans. They screwed big hats on their heads. Both brothers grinned as they strutted down Main Street, for they sensed the gazes that fixated on their bulging crotches weren't scandalized at all. They were fascinated.
Neither Arik nor Owann remembered the first night in the saloons because the whiskey was superb and plentiful in every watering hole. The second night they never forgot, for that was when the brothers first heard the word "whorehouse."
"What's a whore?" Arik asked the barkeep who'd brought it up. "And why is it kept in a house?"
"Whores are people who fuck for money, and you can't lock `em up in a stable."
The brothers nursed their whiskeys silently. What the other was thinking was obvious but it was Owann who finally got up the nerve to broach it.
"These whores ... they do perverted shit?"
The barkeep grinned. "You got the money ... they do anything." He leaned closer. "I pay one `cause I like watching my sheepdog fuck her!"
"You wanna, bro?"
"Yup. I wanna."
The brothers asked for the name of the raunchiest, most perverted whorehouse in town. They had to put up with fifteen minutes of confused shouting while the fellows sorted this out. Five minutes later, button flies straining to contain their quivering hardons, they pushed through the swinging doors of the whorehouse.
"We want a chick!" called Arik. "How much?"
"How much," purred the madam, "is how long do you hung lads want her for?"
"What? You nuts? All fucking night, lady!"
Following Arik upstairs, Owann felt butterflies swarming in his belly. Arik's excitement was infectious ... but Owann's adolescent lust had focused entirely on his brother. Not Ma. Not any girl whatsoever. Just that hard body and big cock. What did you do with a woman, anyway? Maybe he could just wank ... and watch Arik do, for the first time ever, what he was born to do?
Outside the door, Arik turned to Owann. "Mind if I go first?" He clutched his throbbing bulge. "Please? Just thinking `bout it ... I'm gonna pop in my jeans!"
Owann slapped Arik's buttcheek. "Do her good, bro!"
Arik pranced into the room. Soft lantern light bathed the naked woman on the bed. She had drawn up her legs to cover her snatch. Arms were modestly folded across her breasts. There was nothing demure about her eyes; focused on the two brothers, they ignited with demonic lust. She was pretty, Owann thought, but not in Arik's league. Then again ... who was? Beaming, Arik flung his hat across the room and wriggled free of his shirt.
"Evening, ma'am! I'm Arik. Owann's my bro. C'mere! Never been kissed by a girl before ... and the gods know I wanna try!"
The young whore sashayed to the lanky bandit and molded herself to his lithe body. Arik's lips tasted their first woman and guzzled her up like whiskey. His hands, exploring her soft caramel skin, were rough and assertive. Any objections the girl may have murmured dissolved into gentle whimpers which Arik's mouth devoured. Arik's cock throbbed in his jeans. Drizzling precum darkened the denim. She got him out of his belt and began peeling open his fly. There Arik stopped her.
"Nah. Hair trigger. Lemma play my way."
As Owann seated himself on a sturdy table, Arik pushed her back onto the bed and parted her knees. Her eyes met Owann's. He nodded and grinned.
"You're in for a good time!"
Not a breast man, Arik dove face first for her thatch. Her head lolled back as his tongue slithered up and down her slit. Arik's sculpted ass drew Owann off the table. The black-haired lad knelt behind his brother. He inhaled a pungent cocktail of ballmusk and cooze. While Arik slobbered like a sheepdog at her cunt, Owann wrenched off those boots. Reaching between Arik's thigh, he finished the work the whore had begun on the fly. Owann tugged Arik's jeans as far down as he could get them. Arik remained where he was, happily lapping away, until Owann bent and laid a wet kiss on each of his little brother's buttocks.
Arik glanced back. Cunt juice shone on his chin, jaw, and cheeks, but his grin was the brightest of all. He winked. Arik stood and stripped out of his jeans. The girl stared up in awe at the huge cock looming above her. She shrieked when Arik pushed her down on the bed.
"Go slow! You're huge!"
Straddling her hips, Arik's eyes glinted like cold steel down at her. He trailed a finger over her heaving belly, through her bush, then fingered her gash. She squirmed, then shrieked. Arik flashed a hot look at Owann.
"C'mere. Aim me, bro."
Owann crouched behind Arik. There it was, framed by golden thighs. Owann was face-to-cunt with a girl's crotch. Her dark bush was drenched, and thick fluid like hot oil drooled around Arik's probing finger. Each withdrawal flashed a hint of hot pink flesh buried behind her swollen labia. He'd seen such a sight only when the mares were in heat for big stallion cock. He grasped Arik's prong by the base. Fuck, it was stiff as a sword and greasy. He wrenched it down until the big cockhead prodded the whore's sloppy cunt.
Arik's hips snapped forward. He skewered the girl hard enough to knock the breath from her. The blond stud's nuts quivered between her thighs. The bed bucked as Arik hammered away. Owann scrambled to his feet. Arik's graceful powerfucking stunned him. Bam-bam-bam! Full-length strokes, from cockhead to balls, delivered pitilessly. When he was fully embedded, Arik's spine curved like a bow, and his face glowed with sheer awe. Watching the whore's eyes spin, Owann smirked.
"Lucky lady," he said. "I know the feeling!"
Arik's head corkscrewed, then his hips, and he rammed home. He shouted: "Fuck-fuck-fuck!" The blond stud began unloading cannonballs of spunk into her womb.
Watching her eyes bulge, Owann snickered. "Yeah. Arik shoots some big loads, don't he?"
Panting, Arik fell atop her, burying her slim body under his powerful frame. He shot a pleading look at Owann. "You mind if I go again? I gotta! I just gotta!"
"Fuck her good and hard, bro! Good and hard!"
The whore looked stunned when Arik resumed pumping. She looked embarrassed as his massive load began blustering around his pistoning shaft. Then her expression turned gauzy, and pleasure filmed her eyes. She relinquished control of her body to the huge cock plunging in her. She moaned. She writhed. Her hips began rolling upward to greet Arik's strokes. When orgasm shrieked from her, it was a wonder that glass didn't shatter all through Fort Cataract's End. The brothers high-fived as Arik pounded on.
"That's how you do it!"
Rippling and flexing with each stroke, Arik's hard buttocks were twin marvels. They were the foundation of masculine supremacy. Drawn to them, Owann returned to the bed. He briefly cupped Arik's balls. The goo that came away reeked of his brother's testosterone-drenched power ... but there was also a hint of the girl, like apple pie scented from far away. It touched something deep in Owann's twisted mind. He ran his finger up her sweaty thigh until he felt her swollen vulva folds. He plunged his finger up her and felt Arik's cock pounding away.
But Arik's butt was right there. Right there, pumping furiously in front of Owann's hungry eyes. Arik's thighs were spread, exposing the seam on the backside of his balls, and that led Owann's eyes upward to the tiny pink starfish. He grinned. Oh yeah. He had the balls to do this! He plunged his forefinger up his brother's butthole. Arik's head snapped up. His eyes were wild.
"Fuck!" he roared. His spasming sphincter nearly pinched off Owann's finger.
"Lemme in there, bro!"
Owann grabbed his brother's hip and rolled Arik off the whore. When Arik's slack cock popped from her cooze, jism spurted and she queefed like a prospector who'd eaten ten pounds of beans. Laughing, Owann dove in, guzzling spunk and wallowing in his younger brother's virility. He felt hands stripping away his clothing, but he kept at it, slopping up Arik's seed as it gushed from her cunt. Terrible pressure crushed his head and he heard distant screaming and he wondered what the fuck was going on.
When her thighs relaxed, he looked up, and from her slack posture guessed she was recovering from orgasm. She met the black-haired brother's eyes. Seeing the strands of semen hanging from Owann's cheeks made her cum again.
Her cunt still disgorging streamers of spunk, Owann lifted her knees and moved over her. He gasped when Arik seized his cock. He gasped again when Arik lined him up with the fishy slit. As he sank into his first pussy, greased on his brother's seed, his eyes rolled heavenward. Yeah, he was into dudes ... but he was more into unnatural acts. His hips flashed into a blur.
"Yeah, bro! Do her like that! You look sweet!"
The night was long and richly satisfying. Owann got three nuts up her, then rolled off. Arik cuddled on one side, Owann on the other, and the brothers shared across her weary body the feelings they'd experienced fucking her. Arik got stiff again and wanted to get back at it; she complained of a sore pussy. Grinning, Arik flipped her over and fucked her in the ass. Owann followed suit.
After another brief rest, Arik asked politely if the girl's pussy was ready to go again. Stunned, the poor whore staggered to the door and meekly called out for help. Another woman appeared. The brothers proceeded to wear out a second whore. When for the first time in their lives every last jot and tittle of their lust had been satiated, they shoved the cum-dripping whore to the edge of the bed and spooned against each other.
"Owann ... I think we found heaven."
Feeling his brother's sticky, slack dong nestled in his buttcrack ... drugged by testosterone funk ..., Owann patted his brother's arm. "'Bout fucking time."
Living in a young man's paradise, the brothers saw no reason to go back to the hotel. In two weeks, naturally, they were flat broke and facing a madam who wanted hard cash.
"I say we kill Dwarves!" laughed Owann.
"Yup. They got the hardest money there is," said Arik, disentangling himself from two girls. "Don't pout, little ladies! We'll be back!" He winked and palmed his bulge.
They bought supplies on credit then left town. Seeking quarry on steppes that had become dishearteningly empty, they rode far to the east, coming within sight of the Goldenhorn where the mountain range bent in a long northward arc. Fruitless day after fruitless day drifted by.
At last, they sighted a wagon, lonely under the immense dome of the sky. A Dwarf drove it. Fair game. Whooping, they charged. Wrapped up in the joy of returning to the life they felt they were meant to lead, neither brother noted how the driver failed to panic. Failed to goad his team to speed. They were on it in a flash.
"Die, you sick little fuckhead!" Owann cried, brandishing his sword.
Several Dwarves popped up in the wagon bed. Blowpipes glinted at their lips. Something stung Owann. The world spun. He flashed on his sword receding over the grass, his numb hand reaching after it, too slow, too clumsy. There was a crash, and he was staring up at the sky. He tried calling for Arik, but his lips wouldn't obey his will. Struggling to crawl, he felt as if he were being crushed under sheets of lead.
A Dwarf loomed over him. He kicked Owann, but the lad felt nothing.
"Strap these bandits to the stretcher good and tight. They're young. Maybe we'll get a decent bounty for `em." He spat in Owann's face.
Mail-clad Dwarves bound the brothers to pole-and-hide stretchers then shoved them into the wagon bed. The bounty hunter, seated on the bench amidst his snickering flunkies, lashed the team into lumbering motion. The Sun glared down from its noontime supremacy. Did Owann sweat? Did he blink? He wasn't sure. Time halted.
As if floating in a dream, he became aware of the rising land. Of the smell of conifers. Of the boom of rushing waters. Of snowy peaks stark against blue. Sheer cliffs soared overhead. A hundred feet up, a line of half-turrets glowered down at the road. Above them, casements cut in the granite exposed the muzzles of massive brass bombards. Owann was too numb even to feel dread, or to pity himself or his brother for the fate that awaited them. They must be approaching the fabled Great Gates of the Goldenhorn Morognon, from which, it was said, no human had ever emerged living and whole.
There was a distant boom as one of the great iron gates swung open; another boom as it shut behind them. Dwarves chattered. Coins changed hands. The brothers' stretchers were taken up by soldiers. The long trek through the endless halls and vast chambers was a nightmare of marching Dwarves. Bioluminescent fungi, hanging like ectoplasmic curtains from vaulted ceilings or crawling like fibrous tumors over walls, lit the subterranean kingdom. Every pillar, every chamber, every gallery had been carved per the axioms and theorems of geometry. No stalagmites towered like indomitable hardons. No stalactites hung like dongs in repose. There were no waterfalls of frozen stone. The Morognon was a machine.
The outlaws were locked in a plain cell. The drip-drip-drip of water was maddening. Owann couldn't remember the last time he'd tasted it. Or food. He listened carefully and heard Arik's breathing, slow, regular, and strong. Good. Let that beloved sound be his anchor. Let that be his bulwark against whatever was coming.
Booted feet echoed in the hallway. Keys clinked. The lock turned. Snick. The door opened.
"Ah! The bugger brothers."
Rauthan knelt beside Owann. For one creepy moment, Owann feared the Dwarf might caress him. Might dare, while Owann was so helpless, to lift his kilt. But calculation glittered in the Commissar's eyes, not lust. Rauthan turned to examine Arik.
"This pair is usable. Let's get the paralytic neutralized."
Clunk. Clink. Clank. A strange figure lumbered into the cell. At first, Owann thought it was a knight, for the figure was clad helm to boots in dark metal like pig iron. But as it knelt over Owann, the lad noticed there was no seam between the vambraces on its forearm and its iron gloves. The metal was continuous, not separated by open joints or plated-over articulations. Two disks, glowing like steel extracted from a forge, were its eyes, for they burned into Owann's like an inquisitor. A grate served instead of a mouth. This, then, wasn't a knight. Did even a soul animate it?
The figure held up a metal hand. Its glove shimmered, flowed ... and the forefinger reshaped itself into a needle. It touched Owann's neck. The lad's spine tingled. He struggled, strained ... and imagined he flexed a finger. He felt his jaw twitch. The metal figure turned to Arik.
"Both of these young men hate you ... indeed, all Dwarves ... violently." The metal figure's voice had an undertone of buzzing bees.
"Of course, they do," said Rauthan nonchalantly. "They're perverts, and they've been punished for their fornication."
"Do not count on their loyalty," said the figure as it stepped across Arik.
Rauthan shrugged. "Their parents are slaves on my son's plantation. That's leverage."
"As you wish." The metal figure paused in the door. "The paralytic will be fully counteracted by tomorrow morning. Their mentation should be as cogent as it ever gets."
Clink. Clunk. Clank. The figure departed. Rauthan summoned guards from the hallway.
"Get water into them. Food, too. They'll be able to eat soon."
A few hours later, Arik was able to sit up. He took a few mouthfuls of the cold gruel the Dwarven guards had left, then helped Owann sit up and eat.
"H—how do we escape?" stammered Arik.
"B-- beats the shit out of me," murmured Owann.
Later, they were able to lurch to their feet. Supporting each other, they staggered from one wall to the other, but the effort exhausted them. The brothers collapsed into one of the sleeping niches carved out of the stone. They spooned against each other for warmth and slept. Rauthan's growl woke them.
"If you perverts are copulating ... I will have your organs sanded off!"
Slowly, the brothers separated, showing that no buttsex had been taking place. Rauthan nodded primly. The Commissar beckoned, and servitors entered bearing a table. They set covered dishes on it. Owann's mouth watered at the smell of eggs and sausage.
"Eat up, lads. You must be starving."
The brothers, like pigs, fell to it. Rauthan affected not to be offended by the grunting.
"All done? Good." Rauthan smiled. "You'll be wanting to know what this is all about. It's about redemption. Your long record of deviancy is bad enough, but when banished you compounded it with banditry. I'm now legally obliged to have you beheaded."
"But ... our balls are safe?" asked Arik.
"Any more sauce from that mouth, lad, and I'll have a Dwarven artificer pour molten silver down it."
Rauthan glared so fiercely that Arik's insouciance drained away like water into sand.
"Listen carefully. This is the one and only deal on the table. In exchange for carrying out a certain task on our behalf ... we'll pardon you for banditry. And fornication. Never let it be said Rauthan is parsimonious with justice to you humans!"
The brothers' gazes met. "What kind of mission?" Owann asked for both of them.
"One to your liking! I guarantee adventure. Swordplay. Derring-do. Plunder aplenty! How's that sound?"
Again, the brothers' gazes met. "Not good enough!" barked Arik. "You gotta tell us more about this ... mission!"
"As I just explained," said Rauthan irritably, "this is the one and only offer on the table. Take it or leave it."
"Well, since you put it that way ... we're so fucking honored to be in your service!"
"Excellent. Don't look so glum. This will be a quick and easy task. You could be free in a week." Rauthan gestured to his servitors, who cleared away the table. He followed them towards the door.
"Yo! Rauthan!" chirped Arik. "Who was that metal dude? From yesterday?"
Rauthan turned. His eyes were very chilly. "Perhaps your stupidity is due to your blondness. Listen closely. Our deal is ... you render us a service ... we pardon you. Note there is no clause in that agreement giving you the right to ask questions. Do I make myself clear?
"Yup."
Boom! The cell door shut. Arik rolled his eyes.
"Fucking midget douchebag!"
The brothers settled into the stone niche and spooned.
"I don't trust that fucker," murmured Owann into Arik's ear. "So I say we play the good little boys then skedaddle the first chance we get."
"I'm with you, bro."
Neither brother could say how many days passed, for the glow of the luminescent fungus never brightened, never darkened. Exercise was encouraged, and they were fed well. One day, a large company of Dwarven soldiers escorted them from the cell. They traversed miles of long, rough-hewn passages like mines. They ascended an interminable spiral stair hewn from the Erthe's bones, finally emerging into daylight.
The air was thin and cold in the high valley. A short climb and they'd be into the snowfields of the peaks. Ice-carved ridges sliced the sky. A stream gathered the melting snows and rushed down the valley. Across the rock-strewn floor, an outcropping bore the strangest structure Owann had ever seen. The tower was taller than two grain silos, and it stood on eight pilings. Steam and coal smoke billowed from vents drilled into the stone at its base. Lightning sizzled across the tower's copper cap, and the air reeked of ozone.
"What the fuck is that?" Owann murmured.
"Keep. Your mouth. Shut.," Arik warned in a whisper.
The soldiers milled about. The brothers, thoroughly chilled, hugged themselves.
"What are we waiting for?" Owann asked the company commander.
"Transportation," he answered.
That droning sound couldn't be bees. Not this high up. The brothers turned. A strange craft shaped like an enormous sausage flew low over the whitewater stream. The contraption swam through the air gracefully like a fish. Its tapering tail bore a cruciform array of horizontal flukes and vertical fins. The flying craft trailed a long, long wire whose sparking appeared synchronized to that of the tower. Windmills spun at the pointed end of a quartet of teardrop-shaped cars suspended from the belly. A glassed-in car clung to the vast hull abaft the turn of the bow.
"Well, fuck me silly," said Arik. "What in the hells is that."
The commander looked smug. "Our newest thing. Call it an airship."
Hinged surfaces at the rear of the flukes angled down, and the blunt nose dropped. The airship gently sloped towards the ground. Coils of rope dropped from its belly. The Dwarven soldiers ran forward and seized them. They were careful to avoid the sparking wire as they hauled the airship down.
"Get aboard," barked the commander. "Remember! No fornication."
A door in the side of the forward car was flung open. The brothers scrambled aboard via a swaying, sagging rope ladder. There was a bewildering array of wheels and dials in the control room, but they weren't given any time to study them. Cursing Dwarves herded them into a small cabin. They were locked within. Through a porthole, the brothers watched in awe as the ground sank.
"Holy fuck," murmured Owann. "We're flying, bro!"
The valley revolved slowly. Owann realized the airship was turning around. Having reversed course, the craft followed the milky-green stream. Being eye-level with mountain peaks mesmerized them. Finally, the airship turned once again, and the brothers looked out on the enormous plain of the Saurian Steppes.
"Fuck!" said Owann. "They run all the way to the edge of the world!"
Night fell. The vast bulk of the airship's hull occluded the stars, but they could see far out on the steppes. In the distance, constellations of orange campfires flickered.
"Never knew there were that many saurians," murmured Arik. His eyes were bleary, but like Owann he had no intention of sleeping. Earlier, they'd discovered there were shelves that could be unlatched and pulled flat for this purpose, but how could anyone sleep when the entire world was a beautiful toy?
In the distance, a snake of glowing silver wandered across the dark land. It was a river, they realized after the airship closed in on it, mirroring the moonlight. The airship flew low over it. They saw rapids, and pearlescent whirlpools, and heard the distant thunder of waterfalls. As those came to an end and the river ran on more placidly, a rectangular pattern of lights appeared on its banks.
"Fort Cataract's End!" cried Arik. "Hey! Look! You can see the whorehouses from here!"
Not much further on, the flight ended. The deck sloped steeply, and the brothers braced themselves to keep their vantage point at the porthole. Owann saw a rail fence rush by beneath them, then a long line of trees. Were they descending into a pasture? Shouting sounded through the airship. The ground rose up to meet them. Snick! The cabin door was unlocked.
The moment their boots touched grass the airship lifted. Neither brother moved. Twenty feet away, a huge man-shaped silhouette loomed. Backlit by the torches held by the twenty fierce-faced men, the figure's face was invisible.
"You two the perverts?" boomed a voice.
Owann stood proud and tall. "That's us!"
Laughter boomed. "Wonderful! No shame at all! I like you already! Well, gentlemen, you're the last to arrive. Let's get you armed then go kill some saurians!"
An Elf and a Lad will get it on in Chapter 7 "Wolf Brothers"
© 2019 R. Keith Peck