Stolen Pleasures: version 2 - 1. SP: Chapter 1

Jahke took the stairs two at a time as silently as he could, holding his shoes in one hand, the book wrapped in brown paper wedged under his arm, his free hand grasping the tightly curving rail which wound up the spiral stairs all the way to the third floor, bypassing the mezzanine gallery completely. The door to the Reading Room wasn’t locked, it never had been in Jahke’s experience, and he spent two minutes standing motionless in the dark, listening. Having decided he was indeed alone, the young man took a plain wooden chair, and wedged it firmly under the door handle: it would be nice to have the rest of the late afternoon to himself after such a busy and frustrating day.

He’d spent all day cataloguing pottery fragments, writing out tiny labels with the finest quill he’d been able to carve, and entering the descriptions into the great ledger which had come to live on his desk as of late: only to have his desk upset and the delicate articles lost, broken, smashed, and scattered by a disagreement between two of the senior archaeologists which had come to blows, and hadn’t actually involved him at all. Jahke had shut himself in the first floor bathrooms, but even then he’d had no privacy, and he’d had to listen to a pair of the labourers who were working on the refurbishment of the marble staircase laughing and joking about the ‘stuck up toffs and pansies’ who occupied themselves in the museum. Jahke had to remind himself they weren’t talking about him specifically, but the experience had left him shaken nonetheless.

Now he placed his shoes on the floor, hung his jacket on the end of a bookcase filled with dusty reference volumes he’d never known anyone else to even look at, loosened his tie, and sat on the broad, velvet upholstered bench seat with his parcel. The book had cost him quite a lot of money, much more stress, and waiting around with a thick fold of bank notes under the leafy branches of the park’s beech trees had made Jahke shake with nervousness. He’d nearly talked himself out of it twice, and once the handover was complete, he’d not had a single moment of privacy to open it and look at what his money had bought him. The guest house where he was renting a room had suddenly been full of people who wanted to play cards, or drink when the landlady permitted, and Jahke had hidden the book inside the pocket of his heavy overcoat and spent his whole time thinking of it.

He unwrapped the brown paper with shivering fingers, more excited than he’d even been for a Yuletide present as a child, more nervous than he’d been before his first kiss, and revealed the soft leather cover of the book. It was plain, but neatly bound, and on the front sheet was the title which made Jahke’s mouth instantly dry. ‘The Gentleman’s Boy’ hadn’t needed to be banned or decried by the church as filth of the highest order, it status as these things was obvious. Even though pornography was frowned upon, it was still possible to go the old Holywell Road and find publishing houses who would sell you things full of indiscreet pleasures. Jahke had no idea how the anonymous author had even found someone to type-set the text, let alone print and bind the slim volume. If it was ever found in his possession, then five years of imprisonment and hard labour would be his. Which was nothing compared to the ten years for committing sodomy. Jahke thought quickly of the last time he’d had sex – a quick, unreciprocated blow job in a back alley behind the Cart and Horses – and the very real sense of danger which had heightened every single action. Being a sexual invert was a risky business, and Jahke was happy enough with his literature.

His hands shook so with excitement that he could barely turn the pages, his blue gaze lingering on single phrases before moving on. When he came to the first printed copper plate etching, Jahke groaned, his voice suddenly loud in the total stillness of the deserted Reading Room. The boy on the page was bent over on a bed so plush it was practically drowning in soft furnishings, naked from the waist down, his arsehole being examined by a refined gentleman in a full suit with his long cock on display. The text underneath made his heart hammer wildly.

‘I would like to crush my whole being into your sweet body; in your velvet mouth; your delicious chocolate bum-hole, and I would squirt therein countless jets of thick, rich seed.’

Jahke lifted the book from the bench seat, and held the page closer to the window, examining each detail of the etching, the way the artist had made the boy’s cheeks blush and the gentleman’s smile so proprietary. It was getting dark outside and the Reading Room was dim, so Jahke lifted himself uncomfortably from the bench seat and crossed to the little naphtha lamp on the table. As the light flared, he decided to sit instead in an easy chair in order to better enjoy his new purchase, and so did not return to the bench seat. He was therefore, unaware of the pair of dark figures who had been standing beneath the hissing gas street lamp, watching him with intent.

The young man unbuttoned his fly and pulled his shirt tails loose before he settled again. Jahke figured if he was going to have some alone time with his new book, he may as well really enjoy himself whilst he did so, the punishment if he was found would be the same after all. He thought of his first kiss – the most tender brush of lips – with a boy only a year older than himself when he was eleven, under the arch of the bridge which spanned the tributary which lead out to the shipping yards. He known, even then, it was wrong, the message long hammered home by hours of sermons every Sunday, but he’d hoped it would be like any other kind of sex outside of marriage. Everyone knew you weren’t allowed, but every man on the street he’d grown up on had known which house kept their lights on after dark and their doors unlocked. The constabulary’s relaxed attitudes to prostitutes who put out for men in uniform did not extend to sexual inverts, and though Jahke had often wanted to visit the notorious public washrooms which he’d been told saw all kinds of nightly delights, he didn’t dare. Instead, he flicked through his new book with one hand down the front of his trousers, stroking himself softly as his pulse stirred at each new drawing or written scene in turn.

The last picture in the book wasn’t related to the tale of sexual exploits of the gentleman and his young lover, that much was obvious. It had been drawn by another hand, and etched without finesse, no shading or contrast, just a line drawing which made Jahke’s cock spasm in his fist as he looked. A boy, slender and pale, about his own build, knelt naked on a bed, his eyes closed and knees parted. A creature with two heads crouched behind him, gripping his narrow chest with it’s skinny hands as both of it’s long tongues invaded the boy’s open mouth. The unnatural creature’s hard cock was shown spearing into the arse of the boy, and the boy’s cock too was hard and pointing up towards his face. Jahke could could barely breathe as his body reacted to something he’d never even had the imagination to dream about, and then the scrape of hooves on stone made him jump clean out of skin.

Looking up, Jahke was certain his imagination had just taken the picture from the book and played with it, because what he was seeing wasn’t possible, not in the slightest. The first of the dark figures turned to hiss in annoyance at the second who was lowering the sash window back into place above the bench seat where Jahke had been sitting before. It was the hooves of the second figure which had made the noise, and Jahke was about to let his mind be fully distracted by the knowledge that there was a man with hooves in the same room as him when the first figure stepped into the soft light of the naphtha lamp.

His skin was black, and decorated with patterns of slowly pulsating living fire, the same brightness echoed in his eyes. When he smiled, Jahke felt his blood run cold. He flicked his head to look at the door he’d wedged shut, knowing no help could come from that quarter, and by the time Jahke was up and out of the chair, the figure with hooves had moved to stand between him and his only route of escape.

“Hey Shindae.” The demon’s voice was like gravel in a silk purse, and his polished onyx eyes glinted with desire and malice. “We got ourselves a pretty one.”

Jahke stared, the demon who had spoken had horns, thick as his wrist and spiralled like a ram, and his smile revealed two long and pointed fangs.

“When has my nose ever been wrong?” the fire-patterned man proclaimed smugly. “He looks like a lot of fun.”

“Please...” Jahke begged the horned demon with the nice voice, “Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone you were here. Please don’t kill me.”

“Oh, Beautiful...” The demon’s smile was so soft and caring and Jahke forgot for a moment that he was begging for his life as well as his sanity with a creature the likes of which he’d never seen even in painted reproductions of The Inferno. “Don’t you worry, we ain’t gonna kill you-”

“Not yet anyway.” the other demon interrupted.

“We just want to show you a good time.”

The demon stepped closer, dwarfing him, and hunched his broad dusky-black shoulders to kiss him. Jahke was frozen, stunned at the feeling of lips on his, the demon’s long tongue in his mouth, and then the beast’s hand cupped the back of his neck, and a cool wash of sensation slipped down his spine.

“Sitka, don’t use too much. I don’t want a rag doll.”

The horned demon stood with a broad smile, not breaking Jahke’s slightly unfocused gaze.

“He can take it. He’s strong, I can taste it.” He stroked the young man’s cheek with the surprisingly soft knuckle of one finger. “You feel that, Beautiful? That’s compulsion. It’s good, right?” Jahke leant into his touch, and felt another dose of the cool sensation flooding through his body like a draught of strong, welcome ale. “Lets you do whatever you want, lets you be free. Why don’t you show Shindae what he’s missing?”

Jahke didn’t much want to stop looking a the horned demon, but he turned anyway at the suggestion, because turning around seemed like a good idea, and smiled at the demon with the fire branded skin. He looked a bit like a picture of a solider Jahke had seen once, but hadn’t been able to afford, bare-chested, well muscled, and with a sly smile which was very attractive despite his claw tipped fingers. Jahke reached for the demon, but Shindae took his shoulder, and pushed him to his knees. The demon was dressed in an outfit of scraps and strips of cloth, and Jahke watched in disconnected fascination as he unwound one of these strips and passed it to Sitka.

“You always liked them bound up and on their knees,” the demon muttered as he lashed Jahke’s wrists together behind his back.

“So do you. Strip him.”

The sound of shredding fabric penetrated Jahke’s haze of happy compulsion, and suddenly all his inhibitions came crashing back around him as Sitka cast away his shirt and tore away his trousers. He shook his head, clamped his mouth shut and tried to scramble away from the creatures. Shindae snarled angrily, but it was Sitka who wrapped strongly muscles arms around him and pinned Jahke against his bare chest.

“It’s good. No, don’t close your pretty eyes. You wanna see this.”

Jahke shook with terror as the fiery demon stripped away his loin cloth to reveal the length of his thick cock, it too veined with sluggish fire, glowing in the dim Reading Room.

“Don’t you wanna see how he tastes?” Sitka asked suggestively.

Jahke wanted to say no, of course not, absolutely not, but he’d only given three blow jobs in his entire life, and not one of them had been as amazing as Sitka’s kiss. And that had just been a kiss. Jahke had always wanted to be the kind of person who was brave and had fantastic experiences, and now there were two people – odd people, strange people – offering him such a chance. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, but when he moved forward towards the demon’s erection he shuddered again as his rational mind told him it was wrong. Suddenly, there was the soft, pleasant slide of Sitka’s compulsion down his spine, and Jahke made a pleased noise as he licked at the head of Shindae’s fiery member.

“I swear you never used to be this nice to playthings. Mmmmm….” Shindae wrapped a large hand around the back of Jahke’s hair and pulled him firmly onto his cock. “But he has got a good little mouth.”

Jahke relaxed into the action as he took Shindae’s hardness deeper into his mouth. He tasted musky, complicated, and very faintly ashen, but not unpleasant. He was warm though, warmer than a body could be, and Jahke felt like his muscles were turning to butter as he heated up. The horned demon was stroking his back and his shoulders, kissing down the back of his neck, and Jahke moaned softly despite having his mouth full.

“Gods, that’s good. He’s a natural.” Shindae sounded extremely pleased with himself. “Make him moan again Sitka.”

Sitka’s laugh rumbled like a steam train shedding coals, and Jahke felt his warm breath against his ear when he spoke.

“You look really beautiful with something in your mouth.”

Jahke gasped, and Shindae used the opportunity to push deeper into his mouth, the head of his cock bumping at his throat, making him gag. Jahke couldn’t get away, Shindae was too strong, but he struggled and grazed the sensitive member in his mouth with his teeth. Shindae’s slap set his ears ringing, his vision blurring, and Jahke cried with relief that it was over, fearing the worse was yet to come, and disappointment he’d performed so badly. He sniffed and snivelled, but when Shindae took his jaw with a firm grip, he parted his lips automatically to take the demon’s hardness again.

“Good boy.”

Jahke felt, irrationally, proud of the compliment, and then he became very intensely distracted by Sitka’s hands on his arse. Only once before had anyone touched him like Sitka was touching him, and it had been his first time too, and he clearly hadn’t been as skilled as Sitka was. The demon fondled and caressed him, and when he used the tip of one finger to breach Jahke’s entrance, the young man groaned openly.

“So tight… we’re so lucky to find you.”

Shindae stepped back and grinned at what he saw, and Sitka pushed a second digit into Jahke’s near-virginal arsehole, making the young man cry out in pleasure and pain together.

“You did bring lube, right?”

“Do I look like I wanna go searching for it?” Sitka’s voice was deeper, full of arousal as obvious as the hard, ridged shaft which was periodically pressed into the small of Jahke’s back. “Fuck...”

Jahke whimpered as he was abandoned, then glanced down at his naked body, his favourite shirt and tailored breeches in tatters on the wooden floor. He told himself he couldn’t get up and run because his hands were bound and there was no point trying to escape anyway, because the demons were quicker and stronger than he was. He certainly wasn’t kneeling there patiently curious and wanting to know what else the demons had in store for him. Shindae smiled broadly at him when Jahke glanced back up.

“Tomorrow you aren’t going to remember any of this, you’d best enjoy yourself.”

Jahke was going to ask him what he meant, but Sitka’s hard body had returned to kneel behind him, and Jahke yelped at the cold, wet touch of his fingers against the tight pucker of his hole. All of a sudden, he realised the demon was going to fuck him, and he as terrified of the length he’d felt pressing against him. No such thing could fit inside him, and he panicked.

“Sitka!” The fiery demon’s voice was a warning growl, and quick as blinking, Jahke felt his worries melt away. Sitka was touching him in intimate places which had never been touched before, and all he could think about was how good it felt. “That’s better. Back to work pretty boy.”

Jahke suckled the cock presented to him and whimpered when Sitka’s fingers left him. He moved back, trying to re-establish the pleasurable contact, and moaned when Sitka spread the globes of his arse with his thumbs, and prodded at his entrance with the tip of his cock. His erection was unlike anything Jahke had ever felt before, and he found himself wishing he’d gotten a better look at the demon who knelt behind him as he was ploughed into, inch by inch, his body gripped tightly around each ridge of Sitka’s tumescent swelling. His civilised mind, the part of him which had sat at his desk all day labelling samples in the neatest handwriting possessed by anyone in the entire building, told him there was no way he should be allowing a demon with horns to work its way inside him and he really shouldn’t have groaned when that same demon began to fondle his balls. But Sitka was kissing the back of his neck again, and there was something deeply delicious about being filled up by the two demons. Even though Sitka wasn’t giving him more compulsion, Jahke knew the civilised voice was losing. He was having fun, and that had been rather thin on the ground of late.

Shindae’s clawed fingers tightened painfully in his hair, scratching his scalp, and Jahke yelped, flinched automatically, and found Sitka’s arms wrapped around him, keeping him still.

“You can do it. There’s a good boy.”

Shindae let out a guttural groan, and then his already fire-brand hot cock was heating more and swelling in Jahke’s mouth, and the young man realised what was happening just before it did, and swallowed the demon’s seed to keep from choking. Shindae staggered backwards, and Jahke’s feeling of emptiness was quickly dispersed by Sitka, thrusting the entire length of his erection into him until he felt the demon’s flat hips smack into his arse.

“You gotta learn to warn people, Shindae.” Sitka’s voice became low and soft in Jahke’s ear. “You did great, Beautiful. We should be nice to him Shindae, he’s being so good to us.”

Jahke half wondered what the horned demon meant, but his mind was busy was the sensations coming from his stretched rear passage. The only man he’d been with was nothing like Sitka, and every muscle he had tried to grip and explore the textures of the demon who reamed him with gentle thoroughness. When Shindae dropped to his knees, Jahke was suddenly jealous of the kiss the two demons shared over his shoulder, then wasn’t when Shindae kissed him as well, his tongue just as hot as his seed had been, his lips firm and velvet smooth, before he continued south. Jahke cried and whimpered when the fiery demon enveloped his own begging erection in a mouth hotter than the summer sun.

“What’s he taste like?”

“Mmmph… try for yourself. You know you want to.” Shindae was clearly skilled at speaking with his mouth full.

Jahke felt the horned demon’s hands roaming over his chest, pressing on his heartbeat, skimming his throat, and for a moment he wished his hands were free so he could grab Sitka’s head and twist round to kiss him again. Shindae’s kiss had been good, but Sitka’s kiss had tasted amazing.

“What’s your name, Beautiful?”

“Jahke.” He was amazed his voice didn’t shake. “Please… I don’t want to forget tonight.”

Shindae made a noise in his throat, and Sitka’s trusts ceased momentarily, then returned with full vigour. Jahke moaned.

“You won’t. I promise.” Then he bent his head to Jahke’s neck, and sank his fangs into the boy’s flesh.

Jahke screamed in pain, his nerves shouting at him from either end of his body, and then Sitka was sucking at the puncture wounds he’d made, drinking his blood, and sitting up with a purr.

“He’s so sweet… fuck, Shindae you gotta taste this.”

The fire demon smiled smugly as he abandoned Jahke’s slender cock for the blood of his body. Jahke felt faint, but when Sitka’s fingers wrapped around him, his tongue soothing the angry wounds, he vibrated with pleasure.

“Don’t you two make a picture...” Shindae purred. He stroked Jahke’s jaw and held his gaze with eyes made of fire. “Show Sitka how much you like him.”

Jahke whimpered, groaned, and then his entire body was shaking and rigid as he came in Sitka’s hand, his cock pulsing and spurting over the floor of the Reading Room. His body clenching around the demon’s hard shaft, and Jahke cried out as Sitka’s hand gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, and his heavy horns knocked into his head as Sitka flooded him with his orgasm. Jahke collapsed back against the demon, panting, his chest heaving for breath, and wished again that his hands were free. Sitka’s ragged breaths made the skin on the back of his neck shiver. The black-skinned hands came up around his chest once more, and Jahke found himself wrapped in a warm embrace as Sitka’s spent member slipped from him.

“That...”

“Shh...” Sitka’s voice was low and gravelly, and made him want to close his eyes so he could better explore the textures of the noise. “You did great, Jahke.”

“Put him out, Sitka.” Shindae murmured, almost too quiet for Jahke to hear. “He’s done enough.”

“But-.”

“We agreed.” The fiery demon reminded him firmly.

Between long, slow blinks, Jahke saw his book he’d spent so much money and worry on, still lying open on the table by the lamp, then Shindae’s bare, clawed feet moving across the floor, bringing up tiny wood shavings as he marked the worn wooden surface. Then there was Sitka, smiling gently, his eyes shining.

“Sleep now, Beautiful.” Sitka’s kiss was warm and velvety, but the hand on his neck was cool, and poured compulsion in a torrent down his spine until Jahke felt his mind come loose from the tethers which kept him conscious. Without fuss, he slid into oblivion.