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Advent: Day Nine (NSFW)

December 5, 2011

Title: To Be Free
Characters: Jeryth, Zhen
Origin: World of Egaea (WIP)
Advent Day: Day 9 (December 5th)
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 7,228
Warning: Sex in half-shifted form

Zhen took a deep breath, feeling the cold air prickle at the inside of his nose and send a shiver down his spine. It was his second attempt at escaping into the snow. The first had been foiled by Gauwyn, who had caught him sneaking out in his barely-there slave’s outfit. He’d nearly thought he would be ordered back to Jeryth’s room, but Gauwyn had simply taken him to another Elf’s quarters and dressed him in the softest, warmest clothing he had ever worn. All bundled up, the cold didn’t bother him nearly as much, and he gingerly stepped outside, delighting in the crunch the snow made beneath his feet. It was beautiful, the way the snow dressed the trees around him, and he felt the most wicked sense of freedom.

Lust slaves weren’t allowed outside into the snow, not like this. He hadn’t gotten Jeryth’s permission. He should have, but he hadn’t been able to find his master in the library. If Jeryth wasn’t working, he didn’t know where Jeryth had gone. He should have just returned to Jeryth’s rooms and stayed there, but he’d watched the snow fall all morning, and he had ached to walk in it.

He wasn’t sure where to go now that he had taken the first step outside, but he looked around. There was a well-trodden path filled with other Elves, but to the far left, there was another path with only a couple old trails of footprints. It was so forbidden to him, that quiet path that fewer people had followed. If he were in the House of Water, following it would mean such a horrible punishment, but could he get away with it here? Would Jeryth want to punish him if he was found? Or worse, if Jeryth returned to their rooms to find him missing…

He looked longingly at the path for several seconds. Once he inched toward it, took a couple more steps closer—just to look, he told himself—he was pulled in. He couldn’t help himself and whispered a soft apology to the trees before setting down on the path, smiling at the beautiful, snow-dusted landscape.

The forest was beautiful. The previous winter, he hadn’t spent much time outside the main keep. He’d been kept with Maelog and Darron, and their needs hadn’t led them—or him—outside the bedroom much. But, this winter, he didn’t belong to Maelog and Darron. Zhen paused by a large evergreen and pressed his left hand to its thick bark. The cuff surrounding his wrist glittered in the winter sunlight. The fine white gold surrounded five carefully positioned rubies and spread two inches up his arm. It was a weight he was familiar with, having worn the cuffs since his body had stopped growing at the age of sixty-three. Maelog and Darron had never used the Master Gem magically linked to his cuffs, and something told him his new master—Jeryth—wouldn’t either.

But Jeryth could. If Zhen angered Jeryth, the sweet librarian could bring him such pain. It just made Zhen want to be even better, so good Jeryth would never need to hurt him or send him back to the House of Water. Still, he’d left the compound without permission, and he was walking through the forest like a free Elf. Zhen bit his lip, debating turning around, rushing back to the keep and going back to Jeryth’s room. He stood in the middle of the path, unsure, looking behind him and forward. Oh, he wanted to see the rest of the forest. He wanted to know what lay over the hill in the distance, but Jeryth… if Jeryth needed him… wanted him…

A rustle of the forest drew his attention from his internal debate. Zhen’s heart began to race. Whatever was just beyond the treeline was following him. He tested the theory, moving forward another hundred steps, and the rustle followed. Zhen whimpered softly, fear stealing all sense from him, and he began to run. He didn’t even think to run back to the main compound. He ran toward the hill, to that distant landmark, hoping to outrun whatever was behind him.

Just as he was about to reach the hill, whatever was chasing him sprung from the forest. In a flurry of black robes, white snow, and his own blue-white hair, Zhen toppled into a snowdrift, a panting form straddling him. He cried out, and then that voice rang in his ears.

“Zhen? Why were you running from me?”

Zhen stared up, eyes wide and lined with tears. “Jeryth?”

Jeryth smiled at him, face flushed. “You ran.”

“I—I—” Zhen choked on the words, and his body trembled as they poured out of him all at once. “I’m sorry! I should have waited, should have stayed in your rooms and not strayed, but the snow was falling outside the window and I couldn’t help myself and Gauwyn gave me new clothes and I wanted to follow the path and see the snow and—”

Jeryth’s fingers pressed against his lips, and Jeryth’s laughter caught him off guard. Why was Jeryth laughing? Gods, had he done something so bad that Jeryth was actually amused by his disobedience? He trembled beneath Jeryth, and the laughter died down. Jeryth tilted his head to the side, confusion marring the Wood Elf’s beautiful face. “Why are you trembling? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Zhen answered quickly, shaking his head.

He wasn’t planning on answering the first question, but Jeryth never get away with silence. “Then why are you trembling?”

“Because I know I deserve to be punished,” Zhen whimpered. It was only then he realized he was looking directly at Jeryth, and he instantly averted his eyes. Such a simple mistake! He’d probably pay for it, though.

“Zhen.” Jeryth called to him, and the warmth and sweetness in Jeryth’s voice made him hesitantly look up through his pale lashes. “Zhen, I’m not going to punish you for going outside.”

Disbelief made his face go slack, and he stared up at Jeryth again. “You… you aren’t?”

“Of course not. I just didn’t know you wanted to go outside. I thought I would join you, but then you ran.” A bright smile came over Jeryth’s face. “I can’t help but give chase when you run like that.”

Relief was a rush of warmth through Zhen, and his breath shuddered out of him. His eyes stung, and he had to blink several times to keep the tears at bay as his cheeks flushed brightly. “Never gone out… into the snow alone. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jeryth chuckled, and he felt Jeryth’s fingers play with his wispy bangs. “You like the snow?”

It was so strange, the way Jeryth always asked about his likes and dislikes. He was used to giving noncommittal answers, saying anything that would please his master, but with Jeryth, he wasn’t able to read what the answers should be, which meant answering truthfully or not answering at all. He swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

“Why?” Jeryth’s fingers continued to touch Zhen in light, gentle ways.

A question without a simple answer. How could he answer it without upsetting his master? What would be the best response? “It’s cold. And pure. White. When the sun shines off it, it’s so bright…”

Jeryth’s smile never faltered. “It can be so bright, you can blind yourself looking at it.”

Jeryth’s presence, those soft touches, that beautiful smile, all soothed his fright, but in its own strange way, that soothing made him nervous. Having a master like Jeryth, who treated him so well, was more than he could have ever hoped for himself. It was pleasurable just being within ten paces of Jeryth. It was a sensation he never knew how to cope with. He shifted on his back in the snow, his eyes averting. “Like your eyes.”

He saw Jeryth’s head tilt in the corner of his vision. “My eyes? What do you mean?”

A flush worked its way to Zhen’s cheeks. “Your eyes are so bright and beautiful, I fear I might blind myself looking into them.” It was a pretty compliment, one he might have given to any master if given the chance, but with Jeryth, he meant every word.

Jeryth ducked his head and chuffed softly as he sat back on Zhen’s thighs. It was now, when sprawled on his back in the snow, that Zhen was thoroughly grateful for Gauwyn’s outfitting him in proper winter clothes. He couldn’t help but stare up at at Jeryth, so quiet, but so noble. Maelog and Darron were noble in their ways, but Jeryth… Zhen couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something deep inside him told him he could trust Jeryth as few lust slaves could trust their masters.

“My eyes give me away as the feline I am,” Jeryth murmured. He was absently stroking his hands up and down Zhen’s chest. “If you look close enough—and most Wood Elves do—you can see the slightly oval shape of my pupils. It was a cause for much shame when I was a child.”

Zhen licked his lips. It took a bit of effort to keep his magic in check when Jeryth touched him like that. He was thankful his voice came out as steady as it did when he said, “Felines are elegant, agile, sleek, and mysterious. I admire such qualities.”

“Are you simply flattering me?” Jeryth asked, a soft chuckle in the words.

“N-No,” Zhen said, his heart beginning to pound. Had he said something wrong? “We didn’t see many Wood Elves, and weren’t trained for them. There were small classes that vaguely told us what we might encounter should we be sold to a Wood Elf—”

“But King Terfel dislikes the slavery so much that he forbids Wood Elves from owning lust slaves or any other enslaved Elf.”

Zhen wondered briefly about that last half. “Other enslaved Elves?”

Jeryth raised an eyebrow. “They don’t educate you much outside of how to serve a master or mistress, do they?”

Zhen couldn’t help but blush deeply. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“No! Don’t be sorry.” Jeryth smiled at him again. “I only mean, they shouldn’t handicap you so you can’t carry a conversation with those you serve. In some of the other Houses, prisoners who are deemed worthy of a life-long sentence for a crime are enslaved. The same powers that bind lust slaves,” he said, running his fingers over one of Zhen’s wrist cuffs, “bind those Elves, but much more severely. While lust slaves are… trained… from childhood on, these enslaved Elves aren’t. They fight. In order to make them save, the Houses enchant collars and cuffs—wrists and ankles—that bind the Elves’ magic. Completely.”

Bind their magic? Horror welled in Zhen. “Such punishment!”

A look of disgust crossed Jeryth’s face. “It’s cruel. Inhumane. Just as cruel and inhumane as what they do to the lust slaves.”

“We were chosen for this life, though. It’s who we are, what our magic calls us to be.” That was what they had taught him, at least. It’s what all his masters and mistresses in the House of Water thought. He shifted a little beneath Jeryth, troubled by the thought of Elves being bound so tightly that their magic was taken away.

Jeryth sniffed the air above Zhen’s face, as if tasting the puffs of fog that his breath made in the cold air. It was an incredibly feline movement that made Zhen want to squirm for a completely different reason. “What makes you smell of fear?”

Always questions without answers he could read! He scrambled for some excuse, some placating statement, but Jeryth’s keen eyes seemed to pin him in place and demand he answer truthfully. “Would… would you ever b-bind my magic like that? If I displease you?”

He saw shock pass over Jeryth’s face. “Absolutely not! Never, Zhen. Did I not just say how cruel and inhumane it is? I don’t intend to punish you at all, much less in such a terrible way.”

Zhen let out a soft sigh of relief. Jeryth spoke so emphatically, he couldn’t help but believe every word. He could trust Jeryth. When his eyes met Jeryth’s again, the thoughtful frown on Jeryth’s face made his heart sink. He should have kept his fears to himself. He lifted a hand and smoothed his long fingers over Jeryth’s face, brushing through a few dark strands of hair in the process. “I still think your eyes are beautiful. The feline within you must be beautiful, too.”

Jeryth chuckled, leaning into each soft touch of Zhen’s fingers. “A leopard. My fur is black, and my eyes are the color of amber.”

“Amber.” Oh, to see such a thing! Zhen let his fingers come close to Jeryth’s eyes. “Wolves dominate here.”

“Yes.” Jeryth’s hands smoothed down Zhen’s chest. “Felines are rare, a random mutation. King Terfel’s eldest daughter is a feline.”

“You’re not the only one, then. Not alone.” An involuntary purr escaped Zhen as he tried to envision Jeryth’s other form. He had seen the large wolves around Beithe since he’d arrived, but he hadn’t seen any felines like Jeryth.

A smile slowly unfurled on Jeryth’s face. “Would you like to see me change?”

“Yes,” Zhen whispered. There was no use in trying to hide what was obvious.

“I can shift fully or into a partial form that is halfway between.” Zhen’s eyes widened, his heart pounding at that second option, and Jeryth laughed softly. “I think I know which intrigues you more.”

“I’m sorry,” Zhen breathed. “I’ve just never—”

“Don’t apologize,” Jeryth reprimanded gently. “Never apologize for curiosity.”

Jeryth rose and stepped back. “It’s not a pleasant sight to watch.” He began to undress, setting his clothes on a low hanging branch. “And I’d rather not ruin my clothing if I can help it.”

“Does it hurt?” Zhen asked as he sat up.

“Yes and no.” At Zhen’s look of confusion, Jeryth laughed. “I’ve grown used to the pain of shifting. Most Wood Elves do. But, eventually I’ll need to complete the shift and remain as the panther for a full turn of the sun and moons. I’m not powerful enough to do immediate, short term shifts.”

“You’ll be a black leopard for a full day?” Zhen couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice, and at Jeryth’s nod, he grinned. “I’ll take very good care of you. I promise.”

Jeryth laughed again. “I’ll still be able to communicate with you. I won’t be a mindless animal.” Jeryth bent down and pressed the sweetest of kisses to Zhen’s lips and breathed against them, “But you can still take care of me if you wish. I do enjoy having a brush through my fur when fully shifted. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been groomed in that form.”

Zhen moaned softly, the kiss stirring his blood, making his heart race. “I’ll brush you until your coat shines.”

“I know you will,” Jeryth said. “Now, don’t touch me until I’m done and tell you to, all right?”

Zhen nodded solemnly. “I promise.”

Jeryth stood back and finally removed his trousers and boots. Zhen couldn’t help but drink in the sight of his master naked. Jeryth didn’t use him as much as Zhen thought he should, though he knew he had no right to think about what his master should or shouldn’t be doing. Still, Zhen hoped. The times Jeryth did have him were wonderful, so new and different. His own pleasure was important, and it still made Zhen’s head spin to think he was allowed the fullness of pleasure each time he coupled with his master.

The shift began slowly, a slight ripple moving through Jeryth’s skin in time with his breathing. He wondered for a moment if the shift wasn’t nearly as bad as Jeryth had said, but then Jeryth grimaced, lurched forward, and the ripple became a violent jerking, as if something were beneath Jeryth’s skin and trying to escape. Zhen gasped as he watched, and the sound of bones snapping and tendons bursting was horrific. Jeryth shouted, but the sound caught in his throat and garbled as even the delicate bones of face and neck broke and contorted.

Zhen’s hands went to his mouth, and he struggled not to cry out in fear or rush to Jeryth’s side to ease that pain. For an instant, he thought of extending his own magic. He could ease that pain with pleasure if he wanted to, but then he remembered Jeryth’s order. He couldn’t touch, and that probably meant his magic, too. Unwilling to risk it, he bit at his lower lip and waited for the painful shift to finish.

Fur replaced skin, and when Jeryth fell forward onto his hands, Zhen sat up and leaned forward. Jeryth’s breathing was labored, but he looked all right. He looked… well, Zhen had difficulty defining what he saw. Jeryth’s body had elongated, become a little broader. His face was a strange mixture of feral and Elvish, his muscles toned, visible under skin covered with a sleek coat of black fur. As his eyes moved down Jeryth’s form, he smiled at the sight of a long, black tail before his cheeks tinted pink at what dangled between Jeryth’s legs. He looked up from the sight and was instantly caught in an amber gaze that made him shiver with unexpected warmth. He swallowed thickly, and the fear disappeared, replaced with an intense desire to touch, to feel the similarities and revel in the differences. It was still Jeryth, but it was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

Jeryth was panting, but there was intelligent in the cat-like eyes. You can touch now.

The voice that rang in Zhen’s head was not just Jeryth’s voice—that soothing, gentle voice that calmed him at his most frightened—but it was also deeper, a little harsher. There was a bestial edge to it that just made Zhen’s curiosity all the more potent.

He reached out, fingers moving across Jeryth’s shoulders, down his arm, and along his chest. The fur was fine, not too thick, and the muscles beneath the furry flesh was lean, firm. Zhen swallowed as Jeryth moaned, the sound guttural in the half-beast throat. It was enough to harden him completely in the restrictive clothing Gauwyn had wrapped him in. Now he wasn’t so pleased about the warm clothing. He wanted to be naked, press himself to the large, hot bulk of Jeryth’s half-cat form. He didn’t even realize he was making a soft whining noise until Jeryth’s cold nose nuzzled him.

You smell good. No fear. Only… want. Jeryth’s mindvoice was curious, awed. Arousal. I can smell it. Thick and sweet.

“I can’t help it,” Zhen moaned softly. “You’re beautiful, powerful, and…” His fingers trailed lower, tracing ever so lightly along the thickness of Jeryth’s flaccid sex. “…large,” he finished. “I didn’t anticipate that change.”

A low growl rumbled from Jeryth, but it wasn’t a growl that froze him with fear. Instead, that growl made arousal twist and roil in Zhen’s gut, and he couldn’t help but whine softly. You aren’t using your magic on me, are you?

Zhen shook his head. “No. Would you like me to? Is it… possible to pleasure you in this form?” He didn’t want to make Jeryth uncomfortable, even if he didn’t feel the need to apologize for his own arousal.

Surprise was obvious on the feral face. You want to… while I am like this?

Uncertainty warred with desire in Zhen, and he met Jeryth’s shocked gaze. “Yes, if… if you can, that is. I would give you pleasure.”

No, I didn’t ask if you would fuck me like this. I asked if you wanted me like this.

Zhen couldn’t deny his bodies reaction, and if Jeryth could smell him, scent his arousal, there was truly only one answer to give. “Yes. Am I not supposed to want you like this?”

It isn’t often that we couple in this form, even with one another. I have never heard of an Elf outside the House of Wood wanting one of us. Jeryth’s amber eyes sparked, though, and the stirrings of arousal tingled at Zhen’s magical senses. His fingers were still feather-light on Jeryth’s skin, and he felt it begin to tighten, the flesh growing hard against his touch. A glance down, and he realized Jeryth was even longer and thicker when aroused in this form, and it sent a shudder through him.

You like the size. Jeryth tilted his head, expression unreadable. Am I unsatisfactory as an Elf?

Zhen’s eyes widened, and he shook his head so hard that it nearly made him dizzy. “Of course not! You fit my mouth, body, and hands so well, I’ve wondered if I was made for you,” he blurted out, immediately averting his gaze in apology for the outburst.

Jeryth’s large, clawed hand cupped his cheek in an amazingly gentle gesture, forced Zhen’s eyes to meet his again. Pleasure radiated in that half-feral, half-Elven mindvoice. Perhaps we were made for one another, which is why the gods took you on a strange journey until our paths crossed.

“You were destined to be my master?” Zhen whispered, leaning into Jeryth’s warm, large hand.

Destined to be your lover, Jeryth corrected.

Zhen’s heart raced, and his chest felt tight for a moment. He didn’t understand the emotions that bubbled up inside him when Jeryth spoke so openly about love. Being lovers was something he wasn’t sure he would ever understand, but the way Jeryth called him that made him eager to try. “How would you like me?”

I have no oil. If you would like to use your mouth… Jeryth’s cock was almost completely hard under Zhen’s fingers. Zhen couldn’t believe the thickness, the heat, and the slick, copious fluid that filled the slit and dripped from the plump head peeking out from beneath the foreskin.

“You’re slick,” Zhen pointed out, circling the slit, the fluid so slippery. “And I always oil myself throughout the day.” Didn’t Jeryth remember? Zhen was always ready to be used by his master.

Jeryth groaned, the sound wonderfully low and animal-like, his hips pushing forward. I don’t want to hurt you.

“You won’t,” Zhen promised, leaning forward to nuzzle Jeryth’s throat. “Please, don’t be afraid.” Jeryth’s fur and body were warm in the sunlight despite the chill of the air, and he breathed in the musky scent of Jeryth’s skin, recognizing the hints of his Elvish form, simply enhanced by the feline musk of fur. He rubbed his face along the dark fur from Jeryth’s neck down to his chest, and he smiled. “So soft,” he breathed before finding a nipple in the dark fur and curling his tongue around it, expertly teasing it to hardness with his mouth as his hand continued to lightly stroke Jeryth.

A rumbling purr soon filled the cold air around them, and Jeryth’s hands began to knead at Zhen’s shoulders. The sharp claws pricked at him through the thick padding of his clothing, and it only made Zhen more determined to be naked and pressed to his master’s feral body. He teased one nipple, and then the other, his own cock aching in the restrictive trousers. He whined, and that brought a different, sharper sound from Jeryth.

I can’t take you in the snow. Jeryth leaned down and licked up Zhen’s throat, the tongue broad and rasping. You’ll freeze.

“No, I won’t,” Zhen panted, not even realizing how need was making him directly contradict his master. “Please, Jeryth. We can spread out your cloak. I’ve been naked in the snow before. Your fur and touch will make the chill a pleasure.”

You’re certain you wouldn’t rather just taste me? Jeryth’s mindvoice was hot with arousal. The energy swirled through Zhen’s senses, and his mouth watered at the thought, but when he didn’t answer, Jeryth chuckled, or at least chuffed his amusement. Something tells me you would rather do both.

“Anything you wish,” Zhen moaned softly, desperate for the smallest bit of direction. Did Jeryth mind if he sucked him first? Did Jeryth wish him naked first?

Jeryth ducked his head, brought their faces close together. What do you want?

Always asking him what he wanted! Zhen didn’t know how to choose those things. He didn’t know what answer would please Jeryth most, and the strangeness only made him whimper. Direction. Couldn’t Jeryth see how much he needed direction? He was a slave, not a free Elf, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to choose!

After a moment, Jeryth nuzzled him, licked his throat again, and one of those big, clawed hands cupped the back of his head. Jeryth guided him down onto his hands and knees in the snow, drew him toward his cock. Suck me, Zhen.

Relief and lust flooded Zhen as he gave in, and he moaned as he sucked the slick tip of Jeryth’s cock between his lips. Heat and musk filled his senses as he sucked, and he closed his eyes, slowly sinking down on the thick, long cock as his mind extended simple words to Jeryth’s. Thank you.

Jeryth groaned, the sound guttural and feral, but the way Jeryth held the back of his head was so tender. He might be in a more animalistic form, but it was still Jeryth who was possessing his mouth and throat, still his quiet, beautiful Wood Elf master. That was what made him so eager, not just the sight of a large cock, but that it was Jeryth who was with him, claws carding through his hair, purr vibrating the air between them.

In this form, Jeryth’s cock was thick, wide, and long. It was a stretch for Zhen to swallow most of the flesh. It pushed his limits, but he loved it. Jeryth’s mewls and whining cries only made his own lusts run even hotter, and he wove a spell around them, ensured there would be plenty of endurance for them both. He wove a second spell to enhance the sensations they felt, and he was rewarded with another, throatier cry from Jeryth. Zhen reveled in the relief he felt as the magic in him bled out into the spells, the well inside draining to a more tolerable level.

With the spells in place, he didn’t worry about making Jeryth come too quickly, didn’t have to worry about pleasing him. Jeryth had resisted his magic at first, but now that he had been given permission to work his spells around Jeryth when he needed to, he took full advantage and worked his mouth and throat around as much of Jeryth as he could.

He could feel Jeryth’s pleasure rising, tickling at his magical senses, but he didn’t stop, sucking and bobbing his head, using his hands on every bit of Jeryth that he couldn’t swallow. It was decadent, arousing, and so very freeing. Any other master would have punished him for being outside without permission, and especially for running, but Jeryth didn’t punish him. Instead, Jeryth showed him part of his inner self, exposing himself, making himself vulnerable, all to a slave. It was the most humbling thing Jeryth could ever do, and Zhen inwardly swore to make sure Jeryth never regretted being so open with him.

When Jeryth bucked up into his mouth, he swallowed, nearly gagging despite his formidable training. There were more fluids than he had expected, and they flooded his mouth, spilling down his chin and jaw. He kept sucking with all his strength, and the feral shouts and growls it forced from Jeryth above him made his own cock positively ache in his thick trousers.

Jeryth had to pry him off, in fact, and even then, Zhen gasped, reached for him.

Zhen! Jeryth held him back, the strength of his arms twice that as an Elf’s. I promise, you can suck me again. Whenever you want. I’ll shift for you. Gods! The mindvoice was thick with arousal, with animal need, and an image filtered over into Zhen’s mind, one of him on his hands and knees in the snow, that massive, glistening cock pushing into him over and over.

Zhen whined, shuddered, the lust so high in him, he thought he’d go mad. Jeryth’s sandpapery tongue lapped at his face, his lips, cleaned him of the smeared fluids. It was such a sweet gesture that it made Zhen’s eyes sting. He didn’t understand what he felt other than the aching, burning need to make that vision of Jeryth’s a reality.

He started pulling mindlessly at his clothes, pulling away the fabric that he could. Jeryth’s clawed hands joined his, and the fabric fell away from his chest in ribbons as he moaned. There was just a hint of danger, a thrill sent down his spine at feeling those claws so easily disrobe him, and he shivered as the chilly air licked across his overheated skin. His nipples tightened, and he panted raggedly, his eyes locked with Jeryth’s. The instant he managed to pull the belt free from around his waist, Jeryth’s claws were on him again. He cried out when Jeryth’s hand cupped him through his trousers, and before he could draw another breath, the fabric was ripped apart, the pressure relieved. He gasped at the cold against his cock as Jeryth stripped him down to his boots. There was nothing but Jeryth in that moment, nothing but his master and that vision in his mind. He turned and got into position on the snow, the ice biting into his knees, shins, and hands.

No, Zhen. Jeryth’s mindvoice was joined by a growl that sent a heat through him so intense that he thought all the snow would melt around them. The cloak, or I won’t take you.

Zhen whined, but immediately stood and crossed to the tree branches that held Jeryth’s clothing. He snatched the cloak and spread it out on the snow. Before he could get on his knees again, Jeryth pulled him close and nuzzled his throat, giving it a nip that felt so intimate and loving that it pulled a soft sound from his chest. He savored that intimacy—intimacy, for a lust slave!—and then sat back, kissing the feline muzzle that had replaced Jeryth’s lips and nose. Then, he deliberately turned, lowered himself to his hands and knees on the cloak, and presented his ass.

A desperate, hungry sound issued from behind him, and then Jeryth’s rough tongue was on him, in him. He cried out, reaching back to spread his buttocks wide, let Jeryth as close as possible. It didn’t worry him that the deep licking was removing oil. The fluids of Jeryth’s cock were slick enough. He’d be smarter next time, though, and carry an extra vial everywhere he went. If this was a possibility now, he didn’t want to ever miss a chance to couple with his master like this.

Jeryth’s tongue pushed deeper, and then deeper still. It occurred to Zhen that no Elf’s tongue should be quite that long, but then again, Jeryth wasn’t quite an Elf at the moment. He shuddered, trembled, his cock positively aching with need the longer Jeryth tongue-fucked him. “M-Master,” he managed, arching, moving into each thrust of Jeryth’s cat-like tongue.

So wanton. So beautifully eager… but how much is really because of me?

The thought from Jeryth made his heart ache terribly for an instant, and he looked behind him, reaching with one hand to pet through Jeryth’s fur. “It’s all because of you. Every ounce of desire. I swear!” Jeryth’s tongue left him, and he whined, spreading himself and wriggling his hips a little.

I believe you, Zhen. You don’t swear lightly.

It was true. He didn’t like to swear to things he didn’t believe. Even his training hadn’t robbed him of that. He might lie, might evade, but when he swore, he meant it. He heard the snow crunch behind him, and the cloak shifted with Jeryth’s weight.

Jeryth’s cock nudged him, and he shivered, the cold all around him pushed away by the pure heat of Jeryth’s flesh. He whimpered, and Jeryth made that low, purring growl behind him as he pushed forward. The pain of being stretched so wide with only Jeryth’s fluids to ease the way was bright and vibrant, and gods above, he loved it, crying out to the sky and trees as he was filled so completely.

There was no moment of adjustment. Jeryth drew back and thrust forward again. With his spells still fueling them, and his own lusts simply raging, there was no hope of holding back. Zhen screamed, squirmed, and met Jeryth thrust for almost brutal thrust. The clawed hands gripped his narrow hips perfectly, just a little bruising force, and Zhen knew then and there he could not have wished for a better master than his Jeryth.

His training made this possible. If they hadn’t used large phalli on him through those formative years, taking Jeryth this hard and fast into his body would have been agony. As it was, it only drove Zhen mad. He was so close to coming, so close and without his master’s command, that it frightened him. Holding back was painful. All he wanted to do was scream and let loose, and that desire was so far removed from his training that it disturbed him a little.

Come for me, Jeryth’s mindvoice growled, that muzzle with its sharp teeth nosing his shoulders. Come for me, but stay hard. I’m not done. Not close enough.

Zhen screamed as he followed that command, and he came hard, his fluids spattering to Jeryth’s cloak beneath them. He had no time to enjoy the release, no time to savor the burning pleasure in his veins. Instead, he had to pull himself from the pleasure and weave another spell. It took the last of his magic to keep himself achingly hard, but the spell bound around his cock as tightly as any cock ring would have. He practically sobbed as Jeryth continued to take him hard and deep. “M-Master… please… ah!”

Jeryth bit and licked at his throat, shoulders, back, all while those powerful hips pushed that thick cock in and out of him, making him ache. Please what, Zhen? What is it you want?

Zhen bucked, his knuckles turning white with how hard he gripped the cloak beneath him. He whimpered and snapped his neck to the side. It sent his hair over one shoulder, and he looked back at Jeryth. “I… I want…”

Jeryth seemed to understand his difficulty, because the next words that growled comfortingly through his mind were, Tell me.

The order made it so much easier, took some of the burden of responsibility from his shoulders. “I want… you to bite my neck. I want you to be free with me.”

Jeryth’s hips snapped forward so hard, Zhen couldn’t help but scream a third time. But then those sharp teeth were pressed to his throat, his heart hammering in time with the pounding of Jeryth into his body. He would be sore for days, and he relished carrying that physical reminder of his master’s desire for him. In a moment’s time, Jeryth’s teeth sank into the vulnerable flesh of his throat, and pain streaked through Zhen’s senses, enhancing the pleasure, his spells making his mind absolutely spin. He bucked, writhed, moved on Jeryth’s cock with abandon, a creature of lust and pleasure and need.

It felt like an eternity, thrust after thrust, pleasure and pain mingled into a single glorious sensation that pulled cries from Zhen and the deepest growls from Jeryth that he’d ever heard. He never wanted it to end, never wanted to give up that pleasure and pain, the freedom Zhen just knew Jeryth could feel as he was marked Zhen with teeth and cock, taken without a care. Jeryth always kept such a close hold on his control, stayed reserved because of Zhen’s life as a lust slave, but now, Jeryth was free, and Zhen simply reveled in every moment as each bled into the next.

It was with a tightening of teeth and hands that Jeryth finally came, slamming forward into him over and over, and the liquid heat that spread through him made his body feel hotter than the sun in the cold winter afternoon.

After a moment of Jeryth huffing wetly against his marred throat, Jeryth pulled out, leaving him gaping and empty. He cried out, panicked. Had he not satisfied Jeryth after all? Had he overstepped his place? Was he to be punished now for wanting? For stating what he wanted? Zhen was trying to gather his wits about him enough to beg for forgiveness when Jeryth turned him over, spread him out on the cloak. Jeryth pushed his legs wide and ducked down, those amber, slitted eyes canted up at Zhen as that long, rough tongue snaked out of the cat-like muzzle and licked him from balls to the wet tip of his cock.

His eyes widened with shock, a startled cry leaving him as he stared down at Jeryth. He couldn’t find any words, couldn’t force his tongue to work in his mouth. All he could do was watch as Jeryth licked him over and over, making him flush and arch his hips in desperation until Jeryth took him in hand and stroked him, lapping at just the head of his cock. The rasp of Jeryth’s feline tongue, the curl of it against his slit, was one of the most erotic things he had ever experienced in all his years, and he whined as he was brought to the edge by hand and tongue, aching for release but unable to let himself go.

Zhen hovered there, nearly sobbing as he squirmed, arched, and tugged at Jeryth’s hair. It hurt. It hurt and didn’t hurt and his heart pounded while his pulse burned through him. He thought he was going insane, losing his mind to pleasure and breathless agony. The cold air, the icy snow, the wetness of the cloak, none of it registered to Zhen. Just Jeryth’s heat, that clawed hand pumping him, and that rough, demanding tongue lapping at the oversensitive head of his cock. His ass, balls, and cock would bring him such sweet anguish come the next day, reminding him of this moment in the snow as he trembled and Jeryth withheld that one word.

That. One. Word.

It never came, and Zhen was openly crying, his limbs trembling as he sobbed up at the gray sky. This must be the punishment for some infraction. He’d done something wrong. Something terribly, unforgivably—

Zhen’s back arched, his toes curled, and a ragged, soul-worn scream left his lips as his body was wracked with the painful pleasure of orgasm after prolonged denial. He sagged back against the cloak, weeping, terror taking hold as he realized the magnitude of his sin. When Jeryth’s body hovered over him, he winced, waiting for that moment when he would be struck for coming without permission. “I-I’m s-s-sorry, Master!” he managed, hoping that would lessen whatever punishment was coming.

Zhen… what are you sorry for? Jeryth’s mindvoice wasn’t angry in his, was only colored by confusion and worry. That warm tongue rasped over his cheeks, and the clawed hands soothed down his flushed, sweaty skin. Why are you afraid?

“I-I came. I couldn’t hold on and I came and I’m sorry I came without your permission. I didn’t mean to!” The words just rushed out of him, leaving him gasping for breath, and he squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see the disappointment in Jeryth’s eyes.

Zhen… Zhen, listen to me. He whimpered at the order, but tried to obey, tried to still the trembling of his body in the aftermath. I wanted you to come without my permission.

That caught his attention. His face contorted with confusion, and he sniffled as he peeked up from beneath his lashes. “You… You what?”

You heard me. Jeryth’s voice was soft as the caresses he was given by those clawed hands, and was that a chuckle, an actual chuckle he felt Jeryth huffing out against his skin? It didn’t make sense!

“I don’t un-understand,” he choked out.

You did exactly as I wanted you to do. You let go for me. You wanted me to be free with you. I just wanted the same. Jeryth licked lightly at his lips, and he whimpered. You’ve pleased me. Don’t be afraid. You’ve made me very, very happy.

“I have?” Zhen dared to hope.

Jeryth nosed him, began to groom him with his tongue. You have. You were so amazing, tasted so good in that moment. I’m so glad you came out into the snow today, and that I followed.

Zhen felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He had expected the worst. It’s what his training had always demanded. If he expected the worst, he had fewer chances of being hurt. “I… I am… glad, too.” It took so much for the words to pass his lips, but the moment they did, Jeryth’s purr erupted from him in a warm rumble that chased away the chill of the day and his own fears. Well, almost. A shiver crept over him.

Are you cold?

“My clothes,” Zhen breathed, evading the question with a solemn look. “Gauwyn gave them to me. Do you think he will be angry that I’ve ruined them?”

Another growling laugh left Jeryth’s feral throat. Gauwyn will blush brightly and scamper away the moment you tell him how you lost the clothing. Don’t worry. You can wear my clothes back to our room, and then you can take a hot bath.

“What… about you?” Zhen had to ask.

I will shift completely. A full turn of sun and moon as a large leopard at your side, and then I’ll be able to shift back to my Elven form. I hope you don’t mind. Jeryth reached for his own clothing, using the ripped shreds of the fine clothes Gauwyn had given Zhen to clean spent seed from Zhen’s body.

The gestures were so thoughtful, so tender. They made his chest ache as he composed himself and pulled Jeryth’s shirt over his head. Jeryth had a shorter torso than he did, which meant a bit of his midriff showed beneath the soft, comfortable fabric. “I don’t mind,” he finally said with a small smile. “I said I would care for you, brush your coat until it shines. I’m still happy to do so.”

You are a sweet Elf. Has anyone ever told you that?

Zhen blushed. “Not the way you do.”

Jeryth collected the ruined clothing and his cloak, and then nuzzled Zhen again. I can’t wait until I can kiss you again.

Kissing was also a treat Jeryth gave him often, and Zhen smiled, ducked his head. “Tomorrow, I will lavish my master with kisses until he is satisfied.”

As they walked back toward the compound, Jeryth huffed softly. Please, Zhen, I am no master. You are not property of mine. Call me Jeryth, remember? He nipped playfully at Zhen’s shoulder. I am just a librarian.

Zhen nipped back with a smile, taking a chance with the gesture. “You’re more than a librarian,” he murmured into Jeryth’s dark fur. “You’re the most kind, gentle Elf I know… Jeryth.”

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