Desire Tends to Blur the Difference between Fiction and Reality
—
“Tell me, Lord Hans, how much longer do you think before the king and queen notice that you’re missing?” Sam asked, sipping at his wine. He didn’t like how lightheaded wine made him feel, so he only ever drank a small amount of it at a time. But he didn’t want to appear as a child who couldn’t handle drink, so he’d had two cups tonight.
“No doubt they already have,” Hans rumbled. He’d had more than two cups of wine, Sam was fairly certain. Servants were clearing away the table from their supper.
“And yet they’ve sent nobody to come rescue you. Why is that?”
Beside Sam, Henry was trying hard not to fidget, and knowing that was making it hard for Sam not to smile. He was playing a game with Henry the last several days, one Henry didn’t know about. Using a slightly dampened version of the same arousal spell he’d used on Henry once before, Sam had been influencing Henry’s libido for four days now, making his body want sex while at the same time not touching Henry once.
Inevitably it would build to the point where Henry would take it out on someone in the castle, and Sam was curious to know who.
“They know that I can handle myself,” Hans said, defensive. “They have no cause to be worried.”
“Or perhaps they don’t care,” Sam suggested. “They did send you here, after all. Did you consider the possibility that they were trying to be rid of you?”
Sam could hear Hans stiffen. “Of course not. I’ve given them no reason for that, and my brother would never do such a thing.”
“Hm.” Sam drank the last of his wine. If his brother wouldn’t do such a thing, then Sam wondered why it mattered that Hans had never given them reason to. “Mine would, but I suppose our families are very different.”
“Clearly,” Hans muttered, into his cup.
“Hm,” Sam said again, pushing back his chair and putting his cup down. “Thank you for the lovely conversation, Lord Hans. I’m afraid I grow tired. I’ll look forward to our next chat.”
“As will I,” Hans lied, as Sam stood up.
Sam turned away and headed for the door of the dining room, letting Henry precede him to open it. Outside the room, Cole was waiting, and Sam said to him, “Do let Lord Hans keep drinking until he’s finished before you take him back to his room.”
“Sure thing, your Majesty,” Cole said, in that slightly mocking tone.
Sam kept walking, with Henry behind him now. As he went, Cole asked, “You’re the Arkhewer boy, aren’t you?”
Henry went tense behind Sam. Sam smiled. “Yes.” Henry’s voice was hoarse. “I am.”
“Thought so,” Cole said. “You look like your dad.”
“You…” Henry took in a breath, didn’t say anything else, or at least didn’t say what he’d been planning to say. “You’re not very good at your job. There were only four of us and you let me get away. I’m surprised that Solomon put up with that level of incompetence.”
“Careful, kid. When his Majesty gets bored with you I can always finish the job.”
“As if you’re anything without a squad of thugs behind you,” Henry shot.
“You want to find out?” Cole asked, cocky.
“You’re both boring the hell out of me,” Sam told them, still walking. “Compare sizes later when I don’t have to listen to it.”
“Understood, your Majesty,” Cole said, armour clanking as he saluted. Henry just snorted, and followed after Sam.
“God,” Sam muttered as they headed for his rooms. “He’s more obnoxious than I realized. Why did Solomon put up with him?”
“Because Solomon was just as much a psychopath as he is.”
“Aw,” Sam teased. “And here I thought that was a word you only used for me, Henry. I thought it was a term of endearment.”
“Yeah, well.” Henry made an agitated noise. “You’re my favourite psychopath, how’s that?”
“That makes me happy,” Sam admitted, mocking. But it did, in a strange way. “You’re mine too.”
“I’m not…” Henry trailed off, making that noise again.
They got to Sam’s room and Henry opened the door, and shut it behind them.
Todd was in there, clattering around, cleaning up. Or whatever the hell it was that he did in here when Sam wasn’t around. “Oh, good evening, your Majesty.”
Sam ignored him, heading for the adjoining room, intending to leave Todd and Henry alone, just out of curiosity. As he went, he sent a pulse of power into Henry, increasing the arousal spell.
“Todd, come back in the morning,” Henry told him, voice a little deeper than usual. Sam paused, wondering what that was about.
“I…”
“Get out,” Henry ordered, gently. He was too gentle with Todd.
Sam didn’t say anything to contradict Henry, and Todd shuffled out of the room, door clicking shut behind him. Henry came up behind Sam. “What was that all about?” he asked. It would have been funny if he could have gotten Henry to rape Todd.
Henry put a hand on Sam’s wrist, pushed him into the wall. “What the fuck?”
Sam could hear Henry swallow, just holding Sam there against the wall. Sam’s power was crawling up his body, demanding to be unleashed against Henry for this, but Sam didn’t do anything yet. Their bodies were pressed together and Sam could feel Henry’s hardness through his pants. “What’s the matter with you? Sam asked.
Henry answered by leaning down and kissing Sam on the mouth, just once. Then he pulled back as if surprised that he’d done it, breathing on Sam’s face. Sam stood still, not sure how to react.
He hadn’t considered the possibility that Henry would take his sexual frustration out on him.
“That was unexpected,” Sam said, quiet. “Something you want to tell me?”
Henry reached up, brushed a finger along Sam’s jaw. “You know, you’re…”
“What?”
“You’re pretty cute,” Henry whispered, and he kissed Sam again. “Actually. I was surprised the first time I saw you.”
Sam felt hot all over at that. “Expected horns, did you?” he managed.
“I don’t know.” Henry’s voice was clouded by lust, just like his thoughts. He started kissing Sam again, more intently this time, tongue probing into Sam’s mouth as he did. He let go of Sam’s wrist, hands wandering down, lifting Sam’s shirt.
Sam let Henry take it off, wrapped his arms around Henry now. He tried to get Henry’s shirt off but Henry started kissing him again, harder now, pressing Sam against the wall, grinding their hips together. Sam kissed back, doing what Henry was doing, liking this more than he knew he should be.
Henry reached down as they kissed, trying to open the front of Sam’s pants with one hand and not really succeeding. “Stop being so gentle,” Sam whispered between kisses. “They’re just clothes.”
Henry grunted and reached his other hand down, ripping the front of Sam’s pants open and then doing the same to his smallclothes, pulling Sam’s erection free and gripping it in one hand, rutting clothed against Sam as he resumed kissing him.
With a louder grunt, Henry stiffened against Sam a moment later and filled his pants with cum, jerking Sam off furiously and keeping him pressed against the wall. A minute of that, of Henry kissing him, moving off his mouth and kissing Sam’s chin, his neck, his collar, and Sam came too, squirting into Henry’s hand and up in between them.
Sam slumped a little, finished, but Henry kept going, taking his hand off of Sam and still kissing his neck. Sam whimpered a little, and Henry started to push his own pants down. “What’s the matter, Sam?” Henry whispered, as his cock sprang free and he rubbed it against Sam’s. “Aren’t you going to stop me?”
“Why…” Sam swallowed. “Why should I do that?”
“You hate this,” Henry said, thrusting against Sam now. “You hate that I’m in control of you, that I’m doing this to you. You hate not being the one calling the shots.”
Sam did hate those things. But Henry didn’t know that Sam was the one in charge—he’d made Henry feel this way, and he could easily force Henry to stop if he wanted to. He knew that if he told Henry to let Sam have his way, let Sam do whatever he wanted, Henry would. But that was boring. This, this was fun.
Especially because he already knew how guilty Henry was going to feel afterwards. “Go ahead and do what you want,” he said, smiling. “You’ve had a stressful few weeks. Have some fun.”
“I…” Henry sounded agitated, but he pressed Sam harder against the wall. “I don’t believe you,” he whispered. “You’re going to stop me. You’re not going to let me do this.”
Sam wondered what Henry was planning to do. He had an idea or two, but he wondered if Henry had had those ideas too. “I’m not making you do anything, Henry,” Sam told him. “You can stop if you want. You could even do this to someone else. I promise not to stop you.”
“No,” Henry said, and his hand was in between Sam’s legs. His fingers were wet; Sam wondered when he’d done that. “I’m not…you’re not…” It sounded almost like a whimper, the way he said that, and he pressed his fingers, both of them, up into Sam.
Sam grunted, flinching at the intrusion, at the pain that came with it. He couldn’t help but tense, but he bore the pain just fine, and Henry jammed his fingers all the way into Sam, pushing them apart, trying to stretch Sam open. Sam tried to stop resisting him, he knew it would hurt less if he did. He also knew where this was going and if he couldn’t handle some fingers, it was going to get a whole lot worse in a minute.
“Knew you wouldn’t like it,” Henry muttered, still pressed against Sam. “You’re going to stop me.”
It sounded, Sam realized, like a plea.
“I’m not,” Sam told him. “I’m not going to stop you. Why would I stop you taking what you want, Henry?”
Henry whimpered a little. And he pulled his fingers out, very suddenly grabbing Sam by the thighs and lifting him, Sam’s pants tearing completely as he did. Sam yelped a little as he was pinned to the wall, but then he felt Henry poking at his stretched hole, and he couldn’t help the strangled cry he gave as Henry pressed into him, up and up and into him and it hurt, more than Sam had realized it would. It took everything he had to hold his power back, to bite his tongue and not rip Henry to shreds, to let Henry penetrate him until he was all the way in.
Or not; Henry pulled back a little and pushed, going in even farther, ignoring Sam’s cry and kissing Sam’s neck again as he kept pushing, until finally Sam was sure he couldn’t go in any farther. Sam was perfectly aware of how big Henry was, but he felt so much bigger like this.
Sam hated that a tear ran down his face, eyes clenched in pain. Henry kissed that tear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“No you’re not,” Sam gritted, arms around Henry’s neck. He wrapped his legs around Henry’s waist to keep himself in place. “I’ve told you about apologizing.”
“Yeah.” Henry let out a breath onto Sam’s cheek and he started moving, back and forth, up and down, in and out of Sam. Never totally out, never more than halfway, and getting faster and faster every time he pushed back in. Sam moved with him, bucking his hips a bit, rubbing his cock against Henry’s shirt as he moved, trying to create enough friction to cum.
It wasn’t enough though, and when Henry gave a particularly hard thrust, slamming Sam against the wall as he started to cum, Sam made a frustrated noise, the pain having ebbed to a gentle throb by now.
When he was done, Henry lifted Sam off him, nearly dropping him on the floor, though he did help Sam stand. “You okay?”
Sam was pretty sure he wasn’t. “Please, I barely felt that. It’s not a fraction of what I’ve done to you.”
“Yeah,” Henry whispered, panting.
“You’re not done, are you?” Sam demanded, reaching out finding Henry’s cock, still hard. Sam was shaking a little. “I’m sure that wasn’t all you wanted, was it?”
“I…I’m fine. I just…”
Sam patted Henry on the cheek, stroking his cock a little. Henry was hot in the face. “You’re too nice. To me, of all people? After everything I’ve done to you? You deserve to take what you want from me, don’t you?”
Sam expected resistance. He expected Henry to protest, to devolve into tears, to insist that he wasn’t like that. He wasn’t expecting Henry to snatch his arm, spin Sam around and slam him up against the stone wall again, pressing against him, breathing hard on his neck. And after only a moment’s indecision, he lined himself back up and slammed his cock back into Sam, much, much harder this time. Sam couldn’t hold in his cry as Henry forced his way back in and started moving, far harder than he had before, properly fucking Sam this time.
Henry had Sam’s arm pinned behind his back and he covered Sam’s wrist with his other hand, breath falling hot on Sam as he fucked him into the wall. It hurt, it hurt inside and it hurt in front where Sam was pressed up against the rough stone, scraping his skin as Henry went on, relentless, grunting like an animal.
The pain faded for the most part and was replaced with a numbness as Sam got used to Henry. He’d done this, he reminded himself as Henry fucked him, he’d made Henry do this. This was all Sam’s doing. He’d asked for this, demanded it. It was part of the game, part of what he was doing to Henry, that was all. The tears on his cheeks would make Henry feel bad later.
Sam slipped, losing a bit of feeling in his legs, and Henry hauled him up a little, painfully, by his arms, and started going at him harder as if to nail him to the wall. The new angle was slightly different and suddenly, Henry hit something that Sam hadn’t known was there, something that sent a surge of pleasure through Sam, something that made him cry out for a totally different reason. He was hitting that over and over now, and Sam was rutting against the wall, trying to go that extra inch, trying to get himself over.
And he did, clenching his body with a cry as he came against the stone, harder than he thought ever had. “You like that,” Henry whispered, voice rough. “You fucking like this, you little…ng.” Henry came again, heat filling Sam once more as he covered Sam’s body with his.
But Henry wasn’t done, he kept going, more slowly, fucking Sam through his own orgasm and not stopping. Sam had been keeping him in a state of arousal for several days, after all.
Held up entirely by Henry’s hands and his cock, Sam didn’t have the energy to protest as Henry just kept fucking him, for Sam didn’t even know how long, until with a groan, he came again, his cum spilling out around him, running down Sam’s legs.
Only then did he pull out, let go of Sam’s arms, and catch him before he fell.
“That’s better,” Sam muttered, as Henry half-carried him to the bed.
“You liked it,” Henry said, laying Sam down. It was an accusation.
“So did you,” Sam accused back, smiling as he listened to Henry undress. Some part of him liked that Henry had kept his clothes on throughout that. He reached out with his senses and cancelled the arousal spell, deciding to call the experiment a success.
“Yeah.” Henry admitted, climbing into bed with Sam. “Sex is good when it’s not rape.”
“Hm.” Sam wondered. It was pretty good when it was rape, too. “You really wanted me to stop you.”
“Yeah.”
Sam moved, laying his head on Henry’s chest as Henry pulled the blanket over them. He wanted a bath, but he wanted sleep more. He couldn’t feel his legs. “I’m glad I didn’t.”
Henry didn’t answer that.
Sam smiled. “You can kill Cole whenever you want.”
“What? I…”
“I’m feeling generous,” Sam explained.
“Thank you,” Henry whispered, putting an arm around Sam.
“Is it going to hurt?”
Henry was quiet for a long time about that, and Sam waited patiently, though he was drifting off. “Yes,” Henry finally said.
“Good. I’m glad. Let me know if you need any help.”
“I can do it.”
Sam shifted a little. “I know you can, Henry.”
—
How Best to Use a Sword 