Vayne continues to struggle with his missing memories but the influence of Hell is not so easy to erase. When he notices that his squire, Edric, is rather well-endowed, the corruption of his mortal soul begins to resurface.
"I-if you would sign here, p-please…"
Vayne blinked and bit back a chuckle. He hadn’t meant to stare. He just couldn’t help it. Everything around him was new and, in a sense, quite exciting.
From the moment he was captured by the forces of Hell, Vayne had been a prisoner. He’d spent his days in a dark dungeon, far away from the light of day.
Not to say that he hadn’t grown accustomed to his accommodation, eventually. He’d come a long way since he was first captured. In the beginning, all he could think about was escaping—or at least holding out for long enough to be rescued.
Now, he itched to return to his cell. The heavy iron bars and the small cot in the corner were familiar and comforting. He even had a small collection of books he could read while waiting for the warden to call on him.
It had been so long since his capture, Vayne hardly remembered normal life. He’d grown so used to the cramped quarters of his cell that the wide-open layout of this drawing-room was unsettling.
There was nothing particularly unique about the room, either. There was a fireplace. A desk. Bookshelves. Two couches in front of one another with a knee-high table in between.
Then again, maybe that was the problem. Vayne was in Hell. The dungeons had better fit his preconceptions. Never, in a thousand years, would he have imagined that just overhead was a perfectly normal house.
It was just too bizarre.
Vayne looked up with a start. He’d been lost in thought, again. "Sorry," he said, somewhat sheepishly.
The man seated across from him—the fiend—was nothing like the hellborn in the stories he grew up with. The warden, yes, but not this one.
Vayne looked at the devil and said, "I don’t believe I caught your name."
The devil’s eyes widened. "I-it’s of n-no consequence, sir," he mumbled.
Adorable, Vayne thought to himself. "I insist," he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the faint reddish tint of the devil’s complexion flushed a deeper red. He never would have imagined it was so easy to make a devil blush.
"B-Bannogg, s-sir," the devil stammered.
The devils in the stories Vayne’s mother read to him as a child were all dashing and charismatic. They were cunning and silver-tongued, capable of tempting a man to part ways with his own soul. Bannogg was none of those things.
Bannogg reminded of the meek and timid scribes in the Fort Radiance library, not the confident swindlers and panhandlers he saw down every other side street in the capital.
"Thank you," said Vayne. He gestured toward the piece of parchment that was on the table. "Now, if you please, Bannogg?"
"O-oh, y-yes, sir," Bannogg squeaked. He pointed at a line at the bottom of the contract. "I-if you find the terms of the contract acceptable, S-sir Vayne, a-all you need to do is sign here."
Vayne chuckled. His mother would have killed him if she knew what he was doing. She’d always warned him to be vigilant. She’d ever emphasized the importance of mental discipline and fortitude so that he might never fall for the wiles of the hellborn.
He’d always taken her words to heart. As a paladin of the Radiant Order, he’d trained day after day in the means of resisting mental and physical coercion. As a decorated knight he learned how to endure mental and physical torture.
Pity, then, that the hellborn did not resort to such measures. Had they done so, Vayne might have had a chance to resist. Alas, his faith and training failed to prepare him for one thing: seduction.
Vayne shivered as he traced a finger along one particular line in the contract. There were many binding words on the document, words to specify the rights and responsibilities of both parties, but this was the one that summed it all up in four words.
"Servitude, grateful and eternal."
No. Vayne had no objections to the terms of the contract. It hadn’t even been the warden’s idea, to begin with. It had been his.
It was laughable—now that he thought about it—that a grown man should have no defense against something that should have otherwise been natural. Most other men would have managed to resist for at least a little longer than he had.
Had the Church not insisted on its teachings of modesty and celibacy outside of wedlock, he might have had a healthier relationship with his sexuality. Alas, the very fact that he felt an attraction to men was decried by his faith.
As a devoted man, Vayne had maintained his "purity" for years. He’d battled against his desires, had thought he had triumphed over his "sinful" inclinations.
He now understood that the only thing he’d managed to do was bottle it all up. He’d ignored his urges for so long he failed to notice the pressure building up inside him.
All it took to open the floodgates was the warden easing the cork loose. The moment he got a taste of what he’d been missing, it was over.
Vayne licked his lips. "Please," he said, holding his hand out for the quill in Bannogg’s.
The devil flushed and handed it over. Seeing this, Vayne chuckled. He acted coy as he reached for the quill. Before he took it, however, he looked into Bannogg’s eyes and smiled, brushing his fingers along the inside of the devil’s wrist.
The quiet, high-pitched squeak that followed was adorable. Vayne knew it was a mean thing to do but it was just way too easy to fluster Bannogg.
Vayne’s old self would have never gotten up to such mischief but he had to admit it was fun. He was still getting used to his new sexual freedom but it felt good to know he could have such an effect on another man.
He smirked at Bannogg. There was time enough for fun with him later, though. For now, the contract demanded his attention.
His fingers trembled as he placed the quill against the parchment. He didn’t feel nervous at all, which was unexpected. Rather, all he felt was a mild sense of apprehension and a faint buzz of excitement.
A part of him couldn’t believe he was going through with this. Maybe it had been holding on to hope that he’d find his way back to the "right" path at some point but he was committed now.
He felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he should have fought harder. Maybe he had abandoned his beliefs and principles too easily. It didn’t matter. It was too late for regrets now, anyway.
Vayne’s cock twitched. He was on the cusp of signing a document that would damn him to irrevocable servitude. It should have alarmed him but it didn’t. All he did feel was a perverse sort of pleasure churning in his guts.
He didn’t know why it felt so goddamned good to abandon everything he’d ever known, to betray the things he’d once stood for, but it did. There was no denying that.
His heart thumped in his chest as the quill scraped across the parchment. Heat bubbled up in his stomach with every indelible stroke that took him inexorably closer to eternity as a demon’s fucktoy.
He didn’t care. It felt so good. He wanted it. Needed it. Craved it with every fiber of his being.
Vayne moaned, pressing down on the quill for the final stroke. The pen nib nearly tore through the parchment. It flicked past the edge of the sheet, leaving a streak of glistening red ink across the table.
His cock strained between his legs. He was leaking profusely. Clear, sticky pre-cum dribbled down the underside of his cock in globs and dripped from his balls onto the couch under him.
Vayne leaned back and watched his handiwork. There wasn’t a trace of ink on the quill, but that wasn’t surprising as it didn’t use ink. Instead, he’d writ his signature in his own blood, drawn by magic from his veins.
His forearm hurt but the pain was tempered by the arousal coursing through him. As he massaged his arm, golden flames raced along the strokes of his signature, burning an indelible mark into the parchment.
Vayne brushed his index finger over his signature. It did not smudge. All that came away was the faintest hint of soot on his finger.
It was then that it hit him, the permanence of what he’d just signed. He didn’t know why but it felt so good. He was so close already, just thinking about how he could never get out of the agreement he’d just signed—even if he later changed his mind.
It was just so goddamn hot. The fact that he’d architected it all himself made it even hotter
He would have laughed if anyone told him he would willingly surrender his soul to a devil some scant few months ago. It would have seemed so ludicrous, so outlandish, and yet he had just done exactly that.
Not only had Vayne willingly given his soul away. He had gladly done so. He had enthusiastically done so.
All his life, he’d trained himself to ignore the needs of his flesh. Now that he’d had a taste, all he could think of was indulging in carnal pleasures.
It was as if all the walls Vayne had built around himself had crumbled to dust. He could no longer contain his desires. He felt no need to.
The part of him that was noble, and righteous, and pure, had broken. It had shattered under the gentle ministrations of his hellborn minder, the incubus Azzagg, the man who would be his master for the rest of eternity.
Vayne had long since given up the hope of rescue. He didn’t need it anymore. He didn’t want it anymore.
Here, in Hell, where no god’s light shone, there would be none to pass judgment on him. In this place for the faithless and the heretical, he was free to indulge in the pleasures he’d denied himself for so long.
"M-might I have the quill back, S-sir Vayne?" said Bannogg. The slender, waifish devil fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. His hands were folded on his lap, conveniently placed to hide the growing lump in his breeches.
"I should be the one calling you sir now," said Vayne, in the huskiest voice he could muster.
He leaned across the table, resting his knees on the edge as he spread his legs. His erection bobbed under him, dripping pre-cum onto the tabletop. His sizable balls dangled freely, full of seed.
He pressed the quill into Bannogg’s hand but crawled over the table to get closer to the flustered devil. He placed a finger on Bannogg’s chest and traced the faint cleft through his tunic.
"After all… I just willfully signed my soul away…" Vayne murmured, reaching up to gently pry Bannogg’s robe open. "And I’ll be spending the rest of eternity as little more than a sentient piece of fuck-meat for you and your kind."
He clambered off the table and into Bannogg’s lap while the latter was struggling to speak. The poor devil was blushing so hard he suddenly seemed more akin to the stereotypical red-skinned devil from the stories.
Vayne licked his lips. He gently grabbed Bannogg by the wrist of the hand holding the quill and pulled it toward the contract. "Go on…" he murmured, looking down into the devil’s eyes with a smoldering gaze. "Make it official."
Bannogg swallowed audibly. Without so much as breaking eye contact for a heartbeat, he signed the contract as its witness.
Vayne shouldn’t have been surprised. This was Bannogg’s job, as he understood it. The devil had likely done it enough times he didn’t even have to look, anymore.
Azzagg had already signed the contract, earlier. With Bannogg’s signature, it was made complete.
Vayne felt as if a heavy iron collar had just clamped shut around his neck. It wasn’t actually there but the sensation was so real he had to reach up and touch his neck to make sure.
He shivered as he felt the phantom sensation of manacles clamping shut around his wrists and ankles. He could almost hear the chains jangling—could almost feel their weight, even.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but moan. He felt something leave his body. It was incorporeal and inscrutable but he had a pretty good guess what it was.
His soul had just fled him. Well, it wasn’t his anymore. In all likelihood, it had just gone to find its new owner.
Vayne didn’t have the time to process how strange it was to be soulless. Scarcely had he felt the shape of the hole his soul’s departure had left inside him than did something else take its place.
He shivered. Azzagg had left on other business after signing the contract but he could almost feel the incubus’ presence nearby. It was the strangest thing.
He had no idea where Azzagg was off to. Azzagg could have been miles away and yet, somehow, it was as if he could tell what his master was feeling at the moment.
A faint buzzing in the back of Vayne’s head got louder and more powerful. He tried to ignore it but couldn’t. It was as if the buzzing demanded his full attention.
He winced as the buzzing grew louder and louder. It was overwhelming. It made it difficult to think. He felt like his mind was being smothered.
The pressure built and built and built. He was afraid his skull might split open if it got any worse but all of a sudden, the strange weight on his psyche disappeared as if it hadn’t been there at all.
Without warning, a voice not his own spoke in Vayne’s head. Pet, it said, with a hint of amusement.
Vayne’s eyes widened. It was Azzagg. "Master?" he whispered. He had not expected the contract would give the incubus access to his mind but he shouldn’t have been surprised. He was property now.
Part of him recoiled at the thought of having no privacy, even in his own mind, but again, he wasn’t a free man anymore. He belonged to Azzagg, body, and soul. And mind as well, now, he supposed.
That’s right, pet. You belong to me now. It’s too late to have any second thoughts.
Vayne shivered. He could feel Azzagg’s voice resonating in the depths of his being. It made him feel as if his very essence was being massaged with every syllable spoken.
It didn’t even strike him as odd that Azzagg had read his thoughts. It was only to be expected. His mind was an open book to his master.
It wasn’t his place to have thoughts that would displease his master. Not anymore, anyway. It certainly wasn’t his place to hide anything from his master.
The sound of Azzagg filled Vayne with a profound sort of warmth. It felt good to know he’d amused his master.
I will be away for a while yet, said Azzagg.
Vayne couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. He’d hoped his master would come home soon to consummate the bond between them.
His body ached to be filled. He’d already had the privilege of swallowing Azzagg’s cock. He could still faintly feel the way the formidable girth had stretched out his gullet, the way it had dripped molten pre-cum into his throat.
For moons, now, Azzagg had been toying with Vayne’s body. Even now, he could feel the memory of his master’s claw-tipped fingers roaming his flesh, discovering erogenous zones he’d never realized he had.
Azzagg had played with Vayne’s cock, too. He loved to tease it endlessly, stroking it for hours until Vayne was begging for a release that would not come for days.
The one thing Azzagg had yet to do, however, was the one thing Vayne craved above all else. While Azzagg had fingered his asshole and tongue-fucked him until his legs gave out, he had never been given the privilege of taking the incubus’ massive endowment inside his ass.
That was not to say Vayne’s hole was still virginal. Azzagg had brought in some of his associates to help break the paladin’s will to resist and they’d been more than happy to fuck him to their hearts’ content. Azzagg himself, however, did not partake.
More and more these days, Vayne dreamt of his master’s prodigious cock. He loved the way it felt against his skin, hot and pulsing with lifeblood, but more than anything he yearned to learn what it would feel inside of him.
Vayne craved to know the sensation of being split open by the veritable weapon between Azzagg’s legs. He wanted to feel it spurt inside of him, wanted to feel the molten-hot volume of the incubus’ seed flooding his guts.
The sound of Azzagg’s chuckling pulled Vayne back to reality.
Soon, pet. You shall have what you ask for and more besides—whether you desire it or not, said Azzagg.
Vayne moaned. He could feel Azzagg’s hands on him, caressing his skin, teasing his nipples. His cock strained between his legs, dripping pre-cum onto Bannogg’s robes that were pinned under his weight.
While you wait, I think you should play the part of the good host and thank Bannogg for his services, said Azzagg. I should hope you’ve paid attention and learned how best to serve your superiors.
Vayne nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, master!" he said. Of course, he’d learned. He might have been a paladin in his past life, a person of consequence, but here in Hell, he was just another helpless human.
Everything Vayne had learned in his past life was worthless in the Kingdom of Hell. If he wanted to be of any use, he had to learn to serve, and he liked to think that he had.
He licked his lips as he turned his attention back to Bannogg. "Please, sir," he whispered, leaning down and arching his back to present his firm, muscular chest to Bannogg, "use my body however you please."
"Is everything alright, sir?"
The voice of the squire startled Vayne out of his thoughts. "Yes. Apologies if you said something. I happened to have something on my mind," he said.
"No apologies necessary, sir," said the squire. He stood ramrod straight in his position at the side of the desk, facing away from the window. "I was merely wondering if you were finished with your meal."
Vayne glanced down at the half-eaten breakfast on his meal tray. While the food at Fort Radiance had never been particularly exciting, he’d always been able to stomach it with no complaint.
Not so, today. Just looking at the tray made his stomach grumble. The porridge, bread, and cheese had never looked more unappetizing. He even shuddered to think of how depressingly bland it had all tasted.
It was the strangest thing. He had a craving for something… better. It was as if his tongue had suddenly become accustomed to more indulgent fare than what the Fort Radiance kitchens could come up with.
He didn’t want much. He didn’t even want something decadent or rich, at all. He would have been happy with a hearty, well-seasoned stew but he knew it was out of the question.
In Fort Radiance, food was a means to an end. Its purpose was to fill the stomach, not titillate the senses. Anything more was viewed as a needless temptation to gluttony.
Vayne seriously considered finishing the meal. The clergy of the Mirellian Church were supposed to serve as an example to the laity by being frugal. Not finishing one’s food was considered needlessly wasteful.
At this point, however, he sincerely felt that hunger would be preferable to taking even a single bite more. "Yes," he said, pushing the tray away, "I think I am."
It didn’t help that the dream he had last night had put him in something of an odd mood. He was certain the events he’d dreamed of had never transpired but, at the same time, the dream had been so vivid it had seemed real.
The contents of the dream didn’t bear repeating or dwelling on. They had been repulsive. Or, at least, Vayne should have found them repulsive.
The notion of willingly signing his mortal soul to eternal servitude under a devil, went against everything he stood for. Everything he believed in.
To say nothing of what he’d done after. He could still feel the wide-eyed, awe-struck gaze of Bannogg on his body as he spread himself for the devil’s engorged cock.
He was disgusted but not as much as he felt he should have been. Even the fading memory of Bannogg’s cock slowly stretching him open as he lowered himself onto it made his skin tingle.
As the squire reached over to take the tray, Vayne stopped him. He gently placed a hand on the younger man’s wrist. "A moment, if you would, Edric," he said.
Edric blinked. He pulled back and turned to face Vayne, hands clasped behind his back. "Yes, Sir Vayne?" he said.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Vayne’s mouth. It felt like it had been a lifetime since he was a novice of the Order. Suffice to say, he didn’t miss the exacting routine and the strict rules of conduct.
During their first few years in the Order, novices were assigned to squire for a Brother. It was supposed to build character and promote inter-generational camaraderie. In that regard, Vayne supposed the system worked well enough.
Nostalgia aside, Vayne was interested to know if his experience the previous night had been unique. There was always the chance something nasty had slipped through the fort’s wards. If such were the case, he was duty-bound to report the matter to his superiors.
"Have you had strange dreams, of late?" he said.
Edric hesitated when he heard Vayne’s question. That he’d not answered promptly told Vayne more than anything he might have said. The third rule of squiring for a Brother: answer all direct questions promptly; if you do not know the answer, say so.
"S-strange in what sense, Sir Vayne?" Edric stammered.
Vayne frowned. It was improper to answer a question with another question but on this occasion, he was willing to let it slide. "The common sense of the word, Edric," he said.
The faint pink flush of Edric’s cheeks did not escape Vayne’s attention. "N-nothing out of the ordinary, sir," he mumbled.
"Then pray, why do you appear so flustered?" said Vayne.
Edric fidgeted. He appeared genuinely conflicted but it didn’t appear he was hiding anything sinister. The most likely explanation was that he was holding back something he viewed as potentially embarrassing.
Regardless, Vayne found the non-answer unsatisfactory. "I need not remind you, Squire Edric, that honesty and forthrightness are virtues of our order," he said.
Edric opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Vayne drove the point home.
"I should like it if you refrained from giving me a reason to have a conversation with the Rector," said Vayne.
The shade of white Edric’s face turned would have been funny if the situation were not so serious. "Apologies, Sir Vayne," he said. "I did not mean to be reluctant… The truth is, it’s a rather… personal matter."
Vayne sat up straighter in his seat. "Tell me more," he said. "Tell me everything"
Edric hesitated again. This time, however, he overcame whatever it was that was holding his tongue. "I-I have had certain dreams of a s-sexual nature, of late, Sir Vayne," he mumbled.
Vayne quirked an eyebrow in surprise. It was the answer he’d hoped not to get. It might have been comforting to know he wasn’t the only one having strange dreams but at the same time, the implications were severe.
He had to investigate further. If his and Edric’s dreams proved to be connected, then there was a chance that they signaled a breach of the fort’s defenses.
He reached over to grab a piece of scrap parchment to take notes. He needed to know the details of the dream, just so he could know if there was anything in common with his.
Before he could do so, however, something caught his attention. On any other day, he might not even have noticed. Not today.
There. Right there. By the edge of the table. It tugged at him—impossible to resist. There was a sizable lump in the front of Edric’s pants. It snaked down the inside seam of his breeches. Like a thick tube of meat shoved unceremoniously into the pants leg.
Vayne’s mouth went dry. He licked his lips, a peculiar hunger seeming to gnaw at his insides. Before he could comprehend what was happening, the appetite the bland meal had stolen from him had returned full force.
With no small amount of effort, he tore his gaze away from the tightness in the front of Edric’s pants. He looked up at Edric’s face, noting the faint flush of his cheeks and the slight parting of his lips. The odd thing was, he could almost smell the arousal in the air.
Edric’s eyes widened when he realized Vayne was looking up at him and he averted his gaze quickly thereafter. The pink tinge of his cheeks got redder, and even the tips of his ears seemed to turn rosy.
"There is nothing necessarily wrong with having dreams of a sexual nature," said Vayne.
He stood from his seat, pulling it back from the desk and turning it so he could face Edric. The Mirellian Church’s position on modesty meant Edric’s clothes showed nothing of the body underneath.
Full realized Brothers of the Order had some freedom in their clothing choices. Novices were not so lucky. Even their underclothes were made in such a way as to hide what the Church termed "the more sordid parts of the flesh meant only for the sacred purpose of perpetuating life."
That Vayne could even see the outline of the squire’s cock through his pants meant Edric was so well-endowed his underclothes struggled to contain him.
Licking his lips, Vayne continued. "Men are creatures of carnal desire, after all. Besides, we are but mortals. It is only natural that our base nature occasionally emerges."
His gaze swept back down. He could not tear his attention away from the lump in Edric’s pants—not for too long, anyway. Such a cock was worthy of attention—if not outright worship.
Vayne shifted forward in his seat. "It is during moments of weakness, when our minds are vulnerable, such as in the throes of sleep, that the Enemy finds the opportunity to test our faith and conviction."
He reached forward. His fingers brushed against the fabric of Edric’s tabard as he placed a hand on the young squire’s stomach. He could feel, only just through the thick fabric, the cobbled muscle of Edric’s middle.
The corner of Vayne’s mouth curled in a small smirk. "What matters is that we hold strong against the temptation of our carnal needs."
These were words he’d believed wholeheartedly all his life. He’d lived by them for many years. And yet, as easily as they fell from his lips now, they also rang hollow.
The strength of conviction that had once been there, smoldering like an ember inside of him, was gone. He didn’t even know why he felt this way. It was as if the very foundations of his faith, which had once seemed so unshakable, had suddenly crumbled into dust overnight.
He’d spoken the words with confidence, but it was a false one. He had other motives, a hunger that he longed to sate—a hunger he was powerless to resist.
"You have been good, yes?" he murmured, quirking an eyebrow as he glanced up at Edric. He watched the lump in Edric’s throat bob as the squire swallowed audibly.
He chuckled to himself. In a low voice, he murmured, "However enticing your dream might have been, Edric, I trust you have practiced the restraint and discipline expected of a Brother of the Order."
Edric grimaced, which told Vayne all he needed to know. "You do realize that you will face such temptations—and worse—on the battlefield as a Brother of the Radiant Order, don’t you?" he said, gravely.
"I’m sorry, Sir Vayne!" Edric blurted out. He looked to be on the verge of tears. "I-I didn’t mean to. I-it just felt so good and I-I—"
"You couldn’t help it?" said Vayne, raising an eyebrow. He scooted the chair closer to Edric, pressing his fingers harder into the squire’s firm stomach. "You just had to… reach between your legs and work yourself to release?"
Edric swallowed and nodded. He at least had the grace to look apologetic over it. "I-I know i-it’s a sin, Sir, but please… please don’t tell the Rector! I-I’ll do better next time, I promise!"
Vayne chuckled. "You need not be so scared, Edric," he said. "You don’t seriously think we aren’t aware of the kinds of things that happen in the novice dormitories, do you?"
Edric lowered his head and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. The thought must not have crossed his mind at all.
Oh, to be young and brave again, Vayne thought to himself. "You do realize the Brothers and I were all novices at some point, right?" he said, with a smirk.
Edric was about to say something but Vayne held up a hand to stop him. "It is my solemn duty as a Brother of the Radiant Order and as a mentor to the future generation to report such a grave matter to the Rector so that the proper disciplinary actions are carried out," he said.
The way Edric paled as Vayne spoke was strangely appealing. He found a perverse sort of pleasure in inflicting the fear of god on the poor squire.
"That said, as the years have passed I have concluded that perhaps the resources of the Order are better spent on investigating and punishing more egregious misconduct," said Vayne.
"T-thank you, Sir Vayne, thank—"
Vayne waved his hand. "I wasn’t finished," he said.
"My apologies, Sir Vayne," said Edric, ducking his head. The color returned to his face as his cheeks flushed and then subsequently turned a deeper shade of scarlet. Vayne hadn’t even known such a color was possible.
"I was going to say—" he said, looking pointedly at Edric, "I was going to say that the poor Rector is going to be bound up in investigations for weeks if the Brothers reported every incident of a novice giving in to a masturbatory temptation."
The corner of Vayne’s mouth curled into a small smirk. "Now," he said, "My leniency is not free."
Edric nodded. "Of course, Sir Vayne… I-I’ll do anything you want me to."
Vayne chuckled. "Careful what you wish for, Edric," he said. "Truth is that even us Brothers occasionally have these sorts of dreams. I have been having them often, of late, to be perfectly honest."
Edric’s eyes widened. Vayne’s admission had clearly taken him by surprise. Little wonder as the Church held up the Brothers of the Order as perfect paragons of virtue when such a notion couldn’t have been further from the truth.
"I fear that these dreams might be a sign that something foul has slipped past the wards of the Fort," said Vayne. "You can probably, to some extent, imagine the implications if my guess is correct."
Edric had paled. He nodded, again. "Y-yes, Sir Vayne!" he said. There was a genuine look of fear in his eyes and Vayne got a sick sort of satisfaction from seeing it.
"Granted, this might all be a harmless coincidence, but it bears investigation all the same, don’t you think?" said Vayne.
"Yes, sir!" said Edric. The initial fear in his expression shifted to determination. "The Fort is a gleaming beacon of goodness and hope for all of mankind. It is our responsibility to protect it!"
Vayne smirked. "That’s the spirit," he said. "I would ask you to assist me in my investigation."
Edric thumped his fist on his chest twice. "I am at your disposal, Sir Vayne!" he declared, with heartfelt conviction. For a moment, he seemed like a full Brother of the Order, dedicated to the mission, but his confidence crumbled the instant Vayne stated his first request.
"I will need you to tell me the details of your dream so that I might note down any similarities with mine," said Vayne.
He had to stifle a laugh as he watched Edric’s bravado deflate. The squire sputtered, for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words.
Vayne leaned back and chuckled. "Oh my. Was it truly so bad?" he said. "Was she a pretty girl?"
The pink tinge of Edric’s cheeks returned. His mouth worked wordlessly for a few moments before he found his voice. "N-no, Sir Vayne," he mumbled, in a voice so soft Vayne might not have heard it if not for the early hour.
"No, she wasn’t pretty?" said Vayne, raising an eyebrow. "Or no, she was a ‘he’ instead?"
Vayne chuckled. The way Edric froze at his second question told him everything he needed to know. "Perhaps this dream of yours does warrant a conversation with your Rector," he hummed. "You understand such desires go against the teachings of the church, don’t you?"
Edric’s quiet little whimper made Vayne’s cock twitched. He didn’t know why tormenting the poor squire turned him on so much but he couldn’t deny it did. "P-please, Sir Vayne, I-I’ll do anything—"
Vayne rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Don’t worry," he said, with a small smile. "This is a matter I can sympathize with better than you think."
Edric’s eyes widened. "S-Sir?" he stammered.
"Never you mind that," said Vayne, with a smirk. "Tell me, was it anyone I know?"
Edric’s cheeks turned rosier.
"Was it one of the Brothers?"
Edric scratched the side of his face.
"Oh my," said Vayne. He listed a number of his most attractive fellows in the Order but saw no discernible reaction from Edric. Not any that indicated he had hit the mark, at least.
It only occurred to Vayne that he’d left one Brother out of the equation when he noticed Edric couldn’t seem to meet his gaze. "Pray, Edric, your dream wouldn’t have happened to involve me, would it?" he said, with a small, knowing smirk.
Edric seemed to choke on his own breath. He couldn’t have given Vayne a more definite "yes" if he tried.
Vayne licked his lips. "What did I do to you in the dream?" he said, sliding off his seat to kneel in front of the squire. "Was I on my knees in front of you?"
Edric was breathing hard. He tried to speak, but nothing intelligible came out of him. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have to say anything. Vayne had gotten what he wanted: an excuse to pounce.
He reached up and rubbed the outline of Edric’s cock through the coarse fabric of his breeches. It twitched and jumped at his touch, a wet spot forming at the tip.
"Did I do this?" he said, leaning in to press his lips against the head of Edric’s cock. He tongued at the wet spot, savoring the faint, salty-sweet taste.
This was the first time he was doing something like this and yet, somehow, the taste seemed familiar to him. More than that, he felt like he’d just been reunited with something he missed, more than anything.
Heat blossomed in the pit of Vayne’s stomach. More arousal surged through him, the front of his pants tightening as it struggled to contain his erection.
"You weren’t this overdressed in the dream, were you?" said Vayne, in a low, sultry voice that made Edric shiver.
He looked up just in time to see Edric bite his lower lip and shake his head.
"Good," said Vayne. "Sensible. Let’s fix that, shall we?" he added, reaching up to unlace the front of Edric’s breeches. When he was done, he hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged, slipping them halfway down Edric’s thighs.
With just Edric’s underwear in the way, his sizable erection was even more prominent. It strained against the thin fabric, tenting out against his leg despite how tightly the under-breeches were laced.
Vayne made quick work of those knots, too. He pulled the underwear down, though the waistband caught on Edric’s cock. He kept pulling, anyway.
When the under-breeches finally slipped off, Edric’s cock sprang free. It flung a strand of clear pre-cum into the air that landed across Vayne’s face.
Vayne chuckled, seeing the mortified look on Edric’s face. He must have expected a rebuke of some sort but Vayne saw no reason for that. If anything, he appreciated the snack. He reached up, sweeping pre-cum into his mouth with the tip of his index finger.
"Stop being so afraid, Edric," said Vayne. "This is all for the investigation. Tell me what I did to you in the dream. Maybe I can help you remember clearly if I re-enact the dream right here."
Edric gulped. "Y-yes, Sir," he mumbled, in what Vayne could only assume was disbelief.
"Well?" said Vayne, somewhat impatiently.
"Y-you rubbed your face against my… a-against my—" Edric whined. His cheeks were so red Vayne half-expected them to burst into flame at any moment.
"Your cock, Edric. You don’t have to be so afraid of the word," said Vayne, with a chuckle. He wrapped his fingers around Edric’s cock and rubbed his face up against the side. He couldn’t help but moan as he felt the heat of it against his skin.
He’d missed this. He was sure it was his first time playing with a cock that wasn’t his and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d missed this.
"Y-yes, sir," Edric stammered.
"What else?" said Vayne. "You can’t tell me this is all I did to your cock."
"N-no, sir…" Edric moaned. "Y-you stroked it while you kissed and licked around the base."
Vayne grinned. He did exactly that. Fingers loosely ringed around Edric’s cock, he gave it a few good tugs while he mouthed at the base. He loved the way it twitched and throbbed, to say nothing of the taste on his tongue.
Edric was chewing on his knuckle to stifle the moans threatening to spill from him. Vayne could tell he was aroused beyond belief and was likely quite close to losing his load.
"What else?" said Vayne, looking up at Edric while he rubbed his cheek against the side of the squire’s cock.
"N-nothing else, s-sir," Edric moaned. He leaned to the side, clutching the edge of the desk as Vayne tightened his grip on his cock.
"Really?" said Vayne. It was adorable that Edric was so flustered over such a tame dream but it was also a bit disappointing.
Vayne chuckled. He supposed he could take the opportunity to teach Edric about other things that could be done with a cock.
"Are you sure I didn’t do this?" he said, pressing his lips against the head of Edric’s cock. He kissed the tip and then lapped at the slit to tease out even more pre-cum.
Edric moaned. It was such a raw and desperate sound it made Vayne’s skin tingle. He wanted more of it. Needed more.
"How about this?" said Vayne, swirling his tongue around the head of Edric’s cock. Edric’s other hand, which the squire had kept balled into a fist and pressed firmly against his side, flew to Vayne’s head. Edric’s fingers threaded into his hair, tightening every time the tip of his tongue brushed along the ridge of Edric’s cock head.
"P-please, Sir Vayne…" Edric whined.
"Please what?" said Vayne, pulling away from the squire’s straining cock.
"Please let me come," Edric whimpered.
Vayne chuckled. He licked his lips and locked eyes with Edric. "Give everything you have to me," he said, never once breaking eye contact as he swallowed Edric’s substantial endowment in one smooth motion.
He almost expected to choke halfway down Edric’s cock but he didn’t. It slid down the back of his throat with ease, as if he’d been doing this all his life.
He was too aroused to care. He moaned around Edric’s cock, feeling it throb in his throat. He could feel the pre-cum dripping down the back of his throat, and all he could think of was how he needed more.
Slowly, at first, Vayne bobbed his head up and down Edric’s cock. The sensation of the blunt head pushing in and out of his throat was sublime. It felt good like nothing he’d ever felt before.
The dull pain of Edric’s fingers tightening in his hair and tugging at his locks only served to accentuate the pleasure. He hadn’t known how much he needed this but now that he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough.
Vayne felt right having a huge cock crammed all the way down his throat. He felt fulfilled and satisfied in a way that his faith had never been able to make him feel.
This was his purpose. This was what he had been born to do. Regardless of what the Church seemed to think.
A low moan spilled out of Edric as he finally gave in to his instincts. His other hand, which had been gripping the edge of the desk tightly, tangled in Vayne’s hair next to the first.
Before long, Edric was pumping his hips. He tightened his fingers in Vayne’s hair, fucking his cock into Vayne’s warm, inviting throat as moans, apologies, and quiet curses fell from his lips.
"Fuck," Edric moaned. "Fuck, I’m going to fucking come!"
Vayne reached around and grabbed Edric’s ass. He pulled the two muscular mounds toward him, encouraging the squire to fuck harder.
Now that his instincts had been awakened, Edric did not need much more than that. He hammered his cock into Vayne’s throat, grunting and groaning like a beast.
Vayne knelt there and took the pounding. He was nothing more than a fuck hole. He was born to serve cock. Every thrust, every pump, every throb of the straining cock in his gullet reminded him of his purpose.
Edric groaned. His rhythm faltered as he delivered a few final sharp thrusts before burying his cock in Vayne’s throat as far as it could go.
Vayne felt Edric’s asscheeks clench moments before hot, molten seed poured into the back of his throat. He moaned, himself, shooting his own load into his breeches without prompting.
As shot after shot of cum dripped into Vayne’s stomach, the hunger he’d felt earlier began to subside. What was more, the hole he felt in the core of his being seemed to fill in somewhat—as if he was rediscovering a part of himself that had been purposefully hidden from him.
Vayne pulled off Edric’s cock with a wet pop and a satisfied look on his face. He wiped a bit of cum that had spilled out of the corner of his lips back into his mouth and grinned.
"Next time you have another dream like that, you should come see me," he said. Edric’s mouth was still slightly agape, his eyes wide in what could only be disbelief at all that had just transpired.
Edric hesitated. If Vayne had to guess, guilt and a desire for more were warring inside the younger man right at this moment. He was eager to find out which side would emerge victorious—though he had a fairly good idea of the likely outcome.
"That’s something you would enjoy, isn’t it?" said Vayne, with a small smirk. "A sample size of two is hardly enough to draw conclusions from. We’d need to see if our dreams continue to present similar things, after all… And if we need to re-enact certain things to jog our memories, then such things are necessary to fulfill our duties to the Order, wouldn’t you say?"
As his fingers slowly untangled from Vayne’s hair, Edric’s softening cock twitched. A small smile tugged at his lips as he realized the implication behind Vayne’s words.
Predictably, lust won the day. Men were simple creatures, after all, and if Vayne had learned anything through the years, it was that the forbidden and sinful things that inspired the most excitement.
Edric leaned down and pulled his pants up. He shook his cock briefly before stuffing his sizable endowment back into his breeches. "Yes, sir," he said, almost breathlessly. Then, in a lower register that betrayed his excitement for more, he said, "I-I will come to you as soon as I have had another dream of the same sort, sir! F-for the purposes of the investigation, o-of course."
"Of course," said Vayne, meeting Edric’s gaze with a knowing look. "For the investigation."
Edric swallowed audibly. His cock, which hadn’t gotten all the way soft, visibly throbbed in his breeches. "Y-yes. B-because it’s o-our duty. A-as members of the Order," he muttered, cheeks flushing such a pretty shade of pink.
"Indeed," said Vayne. He rose from the floor and motioned to the tray of food that had most likely gotten cold. "Now run along. I will call for you when I need you."
"Y-yes, Sir," said Edric. He grabbed the tray and hurried out of Vayne’s chambers. The uninspiring meal wasn’t going to go to waste. Whatever hadn’t been eaten would be reheated and put back with the rest of the food so by now the boy was probably scampering to the kitchen posthaste.
Left in his solitude, Vayne contemplated his actions. He felt he should have been more remorseful of what he’d just done but he felt nothing of the sort.
On an intellectual level, he knew that same-sex attraction was considered sinful. To make matters worse, he’d induced a young and relatively innocent squire to sin with him.
This was the sort of misconduct that could get a Brother expelled from the Order and yet he felt not even the slightest hint of guilt. It had all felt too right, that he couldn’t bring himself to believe he’d done anything wrong.
For once in his life, Vayne genuinely felt as if he was doing something he’d been born to do and not even the scriptures he’d believed in all his life could convince him otherwise.