Familiar Fantasies

River’s grandmother always told him to keep away from witches and their kind, especially after his mother disappeared without a trace one day. He’s not convinced they’re all bad, and besides, his one and only friend in the world is a Warlock and he’s never had any bad experiences with Wyn. Little does he know that his life is about to change in a way that he never would have anticipated.

"And where have you been, young man?"

River flinched, one leg still draped over the windowsill. It was well into the early hours of the morning and he’d expected that his grandmother would be fast asleep. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared try sneaking into the house, in the first place.

"N-Nowhere, amma," River mumbled, rooted to the spot despite how ridiculous he must have looked.

The moon was full and bright, the milky moonlight leaving him no place to hide as it streamed through the window. It illuminated his face, tinged pink with embarrassment, and his ears pressed flat against the top of his head.

"Is that what you kittens are calling the outdoors these days?" said River’s amma.

River said nothing. There wasn’t anything to say. He’d been caught red-handed and all he could do was hang his head in shame.

"Oh for gods’ sake, child, get down from there," said River’s amma.

River whimpered, cheeks heating, as he dislodged himself from the window sill. His tail drooped, wrapping around his leg as he did his best to look anywhere but into his grandmother’s piercing gaze.

"I understand youthful recklessness to a degree, River, but this is beyond the pale!"

River rubbed his arm. He closed the window behind him before his grandmother could mention it. He looked at the hardwood panels under his feet and shifted uncomfortably where he was standing. "I-I’m sorry, amma, I-I just wanted…"

A warm, frail hand came to rest on River’s shoulder. He flinched at the touch. "I know it’s not in your nature to follow so many rules, but please, River, I only want what’s best for you," said his amma.

River understood the way that his amma felt. He did. He really did. His mother’s sudden disappearance when he was nine had affected him, too. He could only imagine how his grandmother would have felt, having her only child vanish into thin air, with nary hide nor hair left behind.

Unfortunately, truth was that River had reached the end of his rope. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the care his amma had shown him, but he didn’t know how much more he could take.

"But amma! I spend most every day cooped up in this house with nothing to do and no one to visit! I feel like I’m going to suffocate or die of boredom!"

River shivered. It was the first time he’d raised his voice to his grandmother, much less spoken his feelings aloud. He still couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes as he spoke. He loved her dearly, but he wanted to live. He didn’t want to be a caged bird for the rest of his life.

"I miss when you used to let me go into the forest and play with my friends. I miss running around in the sun and getting to feel the wind in my face, amma. I miss going on adventures!" River continued.

"Gods above," River’s grandmother sighed. "You are of age now, River! What would you do if a witch swoops in and seizes you while you are out on one of your adventures? Are you going to leave your poor amma alone just like your mother?"

River was still. His chest tightened. It was unfair of his amma to bring his mother up. They didn’t know what had happened to her. There was every chance that they would never know. Somehow, his grandmother had gotten it into her head that a witch had abducted his mother and forced her into the role of familiar.

If he hadn’t been so intent on sneaking out and living an independent life of his own, River might have taken what his amma said at face value, but he couldn’t. The way she said it, he would never have imagined that there were witches that lived in their cozy little community.

River didn’t want to call his amma delusional but he didn’t know how else to express it.

"That’s not fair, amma," River murmured. "Things are different, now."

On some level, River understood that the world his amma lived in might have warranted such suspicions, but the times had moved on. Kidnapping beast-kin and forcing them into familiar contracts was no longer condoned—for good reason.

Such relationships were now carefully negotiated and entered into willingly. Beast-kin had the power to dictate the conditions of their servitude, nowadays. It wasn’t at all like the old days that his amma told him about, of living in fear and hiding in warrens because of the witches and warlocks.

"You don’t know that!" River’s amma snapped. "Just because things are more comfortable now doesn’t mean that you can forget the long centuries of terror that creatures of magic like us suffered at the hands of those beasts!"

Even though he tried to get out as much as he could without his amma knowing, River had to admit he was still a bit of a sheltered kid. That being said, he was pretty sure that his amma was a classic case of the ‘racist grandparent’ that people talked about on the ‘internet’.

"Amma, please, you can’t say that about people nowadays!" River said, uncomfortable with the venom in his grandmother’s words.

River’s amma sighed. "I thought I taught you better than this, River," she said. Disappointment was clear and palpable on her breathy voice. "Fine. Look for adventure if that’s what you want to do, then I’m not going to stop you."

"Really?" River said, realizing that he may have done so with a bit too much haste as he felt his amma’s bony fingers digging into his shoulder. "D-Do you mean it, amma?"

"I’m too old to try, anyway," said River’s amma.

River doubted that. She was strong for her age and better at beast-kin magic than anyone he knew. He was sure she could stop him if she really wanted to.

"Thank you, amma," said River, understanding the concession for what it was. His amma wanted him to show that he could be trusted to care for himself, that he deserved his freedom.

"Just don’t come crying to me if one of those Hexen bastards plucks you off the street," said River’s amma. "Especially since you seem to insist on sneaking out during the Witching Hour."

River scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously. "I-I won’t, amma," he murmured.


River had to admit he was a bit apprehensive as he stepped out of his amma’s house during the day for the first time in what felt like years.

"Good morning, River!" called Mrs. Penelope from next door. River glanced over. The sweet, elderly lady was happily watering her flowers, which remained the same dazzling array of vibrant colors that they had been since River first moved in so many years ago.

Mrs. Penelope was a witch. River was sure of it. Sure, she looked old now, but he was pretty sure she hadn’t aged a day since he had come to live with his amma. Nevertheless, she had always been nice to him, and genuine in her kindness, too. Truth be told, River could scarce imagine that someone like her could be like the monsters of the past that his amma had told him about.

"Good morning, Mrs. Penelope!" River called back, beaming. He felt light. Weightless, almost. His entire body was vibrating with energy and he felt as if he could bounce off the walls if he didn’t restrain himself.

It was one thing to feel the warmth of sunlight streaming in through one’s window while gazing forlornly out at the world that one longed to explore, and another entirely to bask in it, and feel it bathe his skin in its gentle heat. River felt like the happiest little kitten in the world.

"Gosh, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you out and about during the day," said Mrs. Penelope.

The words struck something deep inside River and he winced. Still, he was so happy to be free of his amma’s house that the twinge of resentment he felt at those words wasn’t enough to color his mood.

"It definitely has been, Mrs. Penelope. Too long, if you ask me!" River said as he made his way over to the short hedgerow that separated the two properties. "I see you’re as good a gardener as ever, though, Mrs. Penelope!"

"Aw, shucks," said Mrs. Penelope, her cheeks taking on a tinge of pink as she reached down to caress a beautiful golden lily. "All I do is make sure they receive all the care in the world. These little sweethearts do all the hard work of growing up and becoming beautiful."

River couldn’t help but smile. Whatever his amma had lived through, he felt sorry for her, but he was certain she was wrong. Not all Hexen were evil. Mrs. Penelope was proof of that. River just couldn’t conceive of a world where someone as sweet and kind as her would ever entertain the notion of kidnapping a beast-kin and forcing them into a contract against their will.

Chuckling, River said, "I’m sure the plants appreciate your love, Mrs. Penelope. Um… Anyway, I have to go, now! There’s someone I want to meet up with, so I’ll see you later!"

"Take care, River," said Mrs. Penelope. She glanced over River’s shoulder toward his amma’s house. "Wouldn’t want to worry your amma overmuch."

River followed Mrs. Penelope’s gaze and saw that his amma was watching him from her kitchen window. Her expression was dark, but visibly brightened when she realized he’d noticed her. She gave him a little wave.

"Don’t worry, Mrs. Penelope, I’ll be careful," said River, even though he didn’t really think there was anything to be careful about. It was the middle of the day, after all. All the stories said that Hexen were at their strongest during the night.


"Hot…" River panted, as he leaned against the coarse bark of the ancient rowan tree out in the middle of a field outside town. He’d spent so long indoors that he’d forgotten how hot it could get outdoors during the summer.

River was sweating profusely. His tail and ears had gone limp from the heat, and the breeze—a sorry excuse for one, if he was being honest—provided little relief from it. He felt like he was getting broiled in an oven or something like that.

The summers didn’t use to be so bad when River was younger. Maybe the world had changed more than he realized. He had read on the internet about this ‘Global Warming’ thing. Then again, maybe he was just too accustomed to his amma’s air-conditioned home.

River didn’t really understand how his amma’s house kept at a nice temperature year-round. They didn’t have a heater, or an air-conditioner like most other houses in the neighborhood did. He suspected it was some sort of beast-kin magic. Of the den-making kind.

Casting his mind back to the books he’d pored over in his amma’s study for lack of anything better to do, River wondered if there was any magic he could use to cool himself off. As it so happened, there was one spell, which he only half-remembered, that was meant for warding off heat.

Drawing on the wellspring of mana innate to all beast-kin, River attempted to perform the spell. He only vaguely remembered the hand signs, but he was pretty sure he had them right. Moving his fingers, hands, and arms into the proper configurations, River formed the spell.

The magic took shape, which River took to be a good sign. He wasn’t sure if the spellform was supposed to look the way it did, but since it hadn’t blown up in his face, he figured he’d done things properly.

To River’s great chagrin, when he finally let the magic release, nothing happened. All the mana did was flow back into him in coruscating red threads. He felt just as hot as he had before attempting the spell, if not a little bit hotter.

Fanning himself with his hand, River cast his gaze about the field. He wondered when his friend would show up, or whether Wyn had received his message at all. He’d learned a fair bit of modern technology from the guy, but was still a bit apprehensive about using it. He was always afraid that he was doing something wrong, or that he would break things, since his amma was adamant about having the minimum amount of technology in their home.

As the minutes ticked past, the temperature climbed. River had spent so long indoors that he could scarce remember if it was natural for the day to heat up so much. There was every chance that something had gone horribly wrong but, at the same time, it could just be because midday was coming.

River tugged at his shirt collar. The fabric was damp with sweat and felt strangely restrictive and uncomfortable. He pinched his shirt between his thumb and forefinger, fanning himself to no avail as the heat continued its steady climb.

It was some time later, River wasn’t sure how much, when a figure appeared at the edge of the field. He sat up straight, or at least straighter than he’d been sitting for a while. The heat had been too much and, as much as he was looking forward to his friend arriving, he hadn’t been able to help but slump against the tree.

The figure in the distance was hard to make out in the glare of the sun, but River had had enough practice under the cover of night that he was able to tell it was Wyn just by his gait.

In the back of his mind, River couldn’t help but be a little bummed that he had to look so disheveled the first time he and Wyn were getting together during the day but it wasn’t like he could help it. It was just so, so hot. Even the shade of the tree did little to cool him down, and things were only getting worse.

The few minutes that it took for Wyn to cross the field felt like torture. River watched every moment, heart beating wildly in his chest with anticipation. It wasn’t like they never got to see each other, but it was always some sort of secret thing, rarely out in the open, and certainly never in broad daylight like this.

As Wyn approached and his features became clearer in the sunlight, a strange warmth began to pool in River’s belly. It was weird, but not entirely unwelcome. He’d been sheltered all his life, and he was the first to admit that he was more than a bit naïve, but he still knew the basics of attraction and he had to say, night lighting didn’t do Wyn’s handsome features justice.

River scratched his arm as his stomach did little somersaults. It was all he could do not to gawk. He’d always known, in the back of his head, that Wyn was attractive, but he’d never really appreciated just how attractive his one and only friend was until today.

"Are you alright?" said Wyn, as he stepped into the tree’s shadow in front of River. "You don’t look so good."

"I-I’m fine," River stammered, unable to look away from Wyn’s bright eyes. His cheeks flushed because of the heat and not at all because of any other dumb reason like the fact that he’d just imagined making out with Wyn.

"Not from where I’m standing," said Wyn, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his narrow lips as he stood there, looking down on River with one hand in the pocket of his tight pants. "You’re sweating like a dog."

"I—I find that offensive," River muttered, through gritted teeth. It was taking all of his willpower not to strip his shirt off, but he felt like he was going to suffocate with how hot and thick the air around him had gotten. With every breath, he felt like he was inhaling hot soup, not air, and it was only getting worse as time passed. "It’s just… way too hot."

"Yeah, no, you’re not okay. It isn’t even that hot today. Look at me, I’m wearing black and I’m not even sweating," said Wyn.

"You’re a warlock," River huffed. "You could be cheating."

Wyn shook his head. "Do you really think I would use my magic for something as trivial as keeping cool on a moderately hot day?"

River shrugged. Truth be told, he didn’t really know much about magic, except for the kind that was innate to the beast-kin. "I don’t know… Maybe?"

Wyn placed a hand on his heart, feigning an expression of hurt. "You wound me, sir," he said, with mock indignation. "I would never! Don’t you know there are thousands of years of tradition behind the Art? I, and every warlock like me, need to treat the Art with the respect and dignity that it deserves!"

River rolled his eyes.

Wyn chuckled as he lowered himself onto his haunches. "Was that too much?" he said, "That’s what my dad sounds like to me all the time."

"Gods," River groaned, "how do you survive it?"

Wyn shrugged. "I learned to tune it out. Anyway, no changing the subject. You should probably go home and rest. You look like shit."

River shook his head vehemently. "No! It’s my first time out in… I don’t even remember how long! I’m not just gonna crawl back into my room and mope!"

With a sigh, Wyn reached up toward River’s forehead. River swatted his hand away. "Look, I’m just trying to help," said Wyn. "Do you really think your amma is going to let you out again if you get seriously sick because you were too stubborn to admit that you didn’t feel well?"

River glared at Wyn. "Ugh. Fine. Fine," he said, folding his arms over his chest. Just because he said he was going to let it happen didn’t mean he was going to make it easy. He leaned out of the way of Wyn’s hand until a quirked eyebrow from Wyn cowed him into cooperating.

As soon as Wyn’s hand touched his forehead, River froze. His entire body went rigid—even his tail. He felt like he’d been struck by a bolt of lightning out of the blue.

"You’re burning up," said Wyn, snatching his hand back from River’s forehead as if he’d been burned. He glanced at it for a moment. It glistened with a sheen of sweat. He shook it off to the side to dry it somewhat before wiping it down on the front of his pants.

The place that Wyn had touched still tingled long after Wyn removed his hand. The mere sensation of Wyn’s palm against his skin had sent something electric through River’s whole body.

Having been sheltered and coddled for so long by his amma meant that River wasn’t particularly knowledgeable on matters of sex and romance. That didn’t mean that he was entirely ignorant, of course.

Once his body started changing, River wasn’t immune to his more basal needs. He hadn’t understood them at first, but it wasn’t long before he figured out that taking care of them was pleasurable in the carnal sense.

At first, River’s forays into self-pleasure were clumsy and simplistic. On more nights than he could count, he humped his pillow to climax or pounded his fist up and down his slender cock until he spilled all over his stomach.

It wasn’t until River started sneaking out of home in the evenings that he learned there was more to the world of pleasure than he could even begin to understand. Naturally, though, it was all beyond his grasp as the library had a pretty strict internet filter.

What River felt now, at the mere touch of his friend’s hand on his forehead, was not unlike the insistent, throbbing need he’d experienced many nights and mornings while he lay in bed. He was aroused, and his cock was as hard as a steel rod.

The loose sweatpants that River had worn, which he’d figured would show that he was hip, with the times, and not at all out of place, did little to hide his burgeoning erection. He could only hope that Wyn didn’t look down.

Of course, as soon as River gave any ground to the thought, what he’d been hoping would not happen, happened. Wyn glanced down. Blessedly, it seemed as if he hadn’t noticed the lump in River’s pants.

River’s relief was short-lived. Mere moments later, Wyn’s gaze drifted back to his crotch, eyes widening at the sight.

For a heartbeat, Wyn was silent. Heat flooded into his cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to defend himself, but Wyn beat him to the punch.

With a small smirk curling the corners of his mouth, Wyn looked up to meet River’s eyes. "Is that a rocket in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" he said.

River choked on his words. His cheeks flushed crimson and he felt as if his ears were going to burst into flames at any moment. "F-Fuck you," he stammered. "As if."

"So… you’re not happy to see me?" said Wyn, looking so much like a wounded puppy for a moment that River’s chest tightened at the sight.

River couldn’t take it. Wyn was too adorable and the thought of genuinely hurting him made him feel sick. "N-No, I-I am!"

The hurt on Wyn’s face evaporated in an instant. Bastard, River thought to himself, as a wide grin split the young warlock’s face. Don’t do that to me, he whined, to himself.

"That’s good," said Wyn, practically purring as his eyes drifted back down toward River’s crotch. "Very good."

A quiet little moan slipped from River’s lips. His ears twitched at those words, a shiver traveling from the base of his spine to the tip of his tail as his cock throbbed. He hadn’t known praise could feel so damn good.

"J-Just not in the w-way you’re t-thinking…" River mumbled.

Wyn smirked. He crept forward until he was kneeling between River’s legs. "Oh?" he said, an edge of something dangerous and predatory in his voice. "Pray, tell, what ‘way’ do you think I am thinking?"

River flushed. He wanted to hide away and crawl in a hole. He’d never seen this side of Wyn before and he wasn’t sure whether he liked it. He was so godsdamned attractive. He shook his head, unable to trust his own words not to fail him.

"Cat got your tongue?" said Wyn, chortling at his own joke as if it were the funniest thing in the world. As if River hadn’t heard that one before.

River kept silent, pressing his lips into a thin line. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was sure that Wyn was the reason for his current predicament. He couldn’t help but stare.

Wyn was kneeling in front of River, hands on his knees, leaning forward so that his face was in River’s. The shirt he had on was loose, and the way that he was positioned, River could see past the collar. Wyn wasn’t well-built, but his musculature was well-defined. Even in the shadow of the tree, River could just make out the cobbled muscles of Wyn’s stomach.

River licked his lips before he realized what he was doing. Gods forgive him for lusting after his childhood friend, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation. He felt like the heat had ratcheted up a couple more degrees in the last few minutes.

"If you’re gonna be like that, then you should at least tell me if I’ve got it right," said Wyn.

River’s gaze, which had been hungrily raking across his friend’s body, snapped back up to meet Wyn’s eyes. He felt like a deer in headlights. Before he could think about what he was doing, he nodded.

"You think I think you’re sexually excited about me," said Wyn.

River could but nod as it was the truth. It was almost as if he was under a spell, unable to resist.

"Am I right?" said Wyn, a smirk playing on his lips.

A low whine escaped River. He tried to shake his head no but couldn’t. His cock throbbed, a haze of muggy heat consuming his mind, making it difficult to think. He nodded, hips humping uselessly into the air.

River froze, tail twitching, as Wyn reached up and touched the side of his face. He moaned, warmth flooding into his cheeks as his cock strained against the fabric of his sweats. He didn’t know why, but Wyn’s touch was electric. Even the slightest graze of Wyn’s fingers against his skin sent frissons of pleasure coursing through his body.

"Good. That’s good. Very good," whispered Wyn, leaning forward and stroking the side of River’s face with the knuckle of his index finger. River couldn’t help but lean into the touch, mewling softly as his cock leaked into his pants.

All this teasing was too much. It was going to drive River insane. He could scarcely hold himself together as it was, and Wyn being so close, his body being so hot, and the smirk on his face so godsdamned attractive, didn’t help things.

"P-please, Wyn…" River whined.

The glint of something dangerous in Wyn’s eye made River’s heart flutter. "Please, what?" said Wyn.

"Please…" River couldn’t believe he was doing this. He wasn’t even sure if it was appropriate to ask, but Wyn had neither said nor done anything in the last few minutes to indicate that he wasn’t open to this. "H-help me out…"

Wyn grinned. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the base of River’s jaw. "I thought you’d never ask," he whispered, voice low and sultry as his hand wandered down along River’s side.

River moaned. If Wyn’s touch felt like this, he could scarcely imagine what sex would be like. He didn’t even know why his mind went there immediately but he had to admit that the prospect was very appealing.

The breath hitched in River’s throat as Wyn’s hand finished its journey downward, fingers deftly massaging the outline of his cock through the fabric of his sweat pants. "F-fuck," he moaned, tilting his head back onto the coarse bark of the tree behind him.

"Take me out on a date first, geez," said Wyn, with a low chuckle as he rubbed his hand up and down the length of River’s cock, teasing the pre-cum out of it until there was a dime-sized wet spot at the tip.

"S-sorry," River muttered, taking fast, shallow breaths as he struggled to not get overcome by the sensations and the steadily-intensifying heat in his body.

Wyn laughed. "You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I was joking, dumbass," he said. "Just lean back and enjoy this."

River was good with that. So good. In the back of his mind, he had an inkling that something wasn’t quite right but Wyn’s touch felt so amazing that he barely even noticed.

A whimper slipped out of River as he felt Wyn’s teeth graze the sensitive skin of his neck. He’d never been nibbled before. He liked it. A lot. He could only moan as every sharp, brief twinge of pain as Wyn bit down on him sent an electric shock right to the tip of his cock.

As Wyn’s rubbing became more insistent, River humped his hips up into the young warlock’s hand. River moaned, the sensation of his cock head rubbing against the fabric of his sweat pants almost too much to bear.

"P-please," River begged. He was quickly approaching the edge. The closer he got, the more difficult it became to think of anything but coming.

With each gentle squeeze around his cock, River approached the precipice. He teetered on the knife’s edge, balls churning with cum as they pulled up against his body, ready to let loose. He moaned, the sound low and desperate as he pumped his hips into Wyn’s touch.

"W-wanna come! G-gonna come!" River muttered, gasping for breath as the heat in his body built to such an intensity he felt he was going to burn to a crisp. He was close. So close.

A high-pitched, needy whine tumbled out of River’s lips as Wyn pulled his hand away from his crotch. "We can’t have that," he murmured right in River’s ear with a low and gravelly voice that made River quiver.

"P-please," River whimpered, eyes searching for any trace of sympathy in Wyn’s gaze. He didn’t find any.

"But we’ve only just started," said Wyn, the corner of his lips quirking upward in a little smirk. "You don’t want the fun to end so quickly, do you?"

River silently cursed his inability to decline. He was normally so strong-willed, but in this, he felt like a lump of clay entirely at Wyn’s mercy. He shook his head. No. As much as he wanted to come, the way Wyn was working him over felt so good that he also never wanted it to end.

Wyn grinned. "That’s a good boy," he said, reaching up with his hand and threading his fingers through River’s thick locks. He scratched that spot behind River’s ears and elicited a thin, shameless mewl out of River as the cat-boy’s body went completely limp.

"Let’s take this somewhere more private," said Wyn. "No one comes here, so it’s not likely we’re going to get caught, but I’d rather be safe than sorry… Unless you like that…"

River flushed a deep crimson. The idea was thrilling. Tantalizing, if he was being honest. At the same time, he didn’t want his first time to be so vulgar and exposed. He shook his head. If he and Wyn were to go all the way, he wanted it to be sweet. Intimate. Private.

Wyn chuckled. "Come on," he said, pushing himself up off the ground and holding a hand out to help River up to his feet.

River looked up at his one and only friend, cock throbbing in his sweatpants. A small part of him told him that this was the worst idea in a lifetime of bad ideas, but at this point, he was too far gone to pay too much attention.

Pointedly ignoring the voice of his better judgment, River reached up and took Wyn’s hand in his own, not quite able to meet the young warlock’s piercing, mischievous gaze as he stood.


River and Wyn were scarcely through the door of the apartment when River found himself pushed up against the wall of the entranceway. He could only moan as Wyn’s hands pressed against his chest, pinning him in place.

The fire that had been smoldering in the pit of River’s stomach for the last few minutes, as they made their way over, roared back to life full force. He whimpered, leaning his head back as Wyn rained kisses on his collarbone and the curve of his neck.

River rolled his hips, grinding his cock into Wyn’s hard body as the young warlock nibbled on his sensitive skin, sending ripples of ecstasy throughout his entire form. He moaned, cock throbbing and leaking against his leg.

"Aren’t you going to do anything?" said Wyn, voice hoarse with need as his hot breath wafted over the skin of River’s exposed neck.

"H-huh?" River mumbled, not at all sure what Wyn was referring to. He tried to figure it out, but he couldn’t. He was so fucking horny, he couldn’t think. Not well, anyway.

"Are you going to just lie there and take it like a dead fish?" Wyn growled. He pulled away and River was treated to the sight of his friend’s flushed, sweaty face. "Are you really going to make me do all the work?"

River froze. He didn’t know how to answer the question.

Wyn frowned. "Don’t you want to touch me?" he said.

Just like that, it clicked. "I-I do!" River stammered, in his haste to get the words out. He didn’t want Wyn to think that he was just going along with this. He wanted this. More than he’d wanted anything in his life, probably.

"Don’t you want to feel me up?" Wyn said, leaning in to whisper the words seductively right into River’s ear.

The low, sultry tone sent shivers up and down River’s spine. He could almost feel them in his head, tendrils of lust and arousal wrapping tight around his brain and squeezing tight to wring all rational thought out of his skull.

"I-I do," River moaned, as Wyn’s hand slid down his torso and rubbed his stomach.

"Then why don’t you?" said Wyn, reaching up to grab the side of River’s face before pulling him in for a kiss.

The moment their lips met, something short-circuited in River’s head. He moaned into Wyn’s mouth, sparks flying in his head like fireworks.

River’s hands moved of their own accord after that. He wrapped his arms around Wyn’s middle and rubbed his hands up and down Wyn’s tight, muscular back.

The sensation was amazing. River didn’t know what it was about touching someone else but his fingers tingled as he traced the contours of Wyn’s back. He was a stranger to intimacy of this sort, but the way it felt to have someone else pressed up against his body in the way that Wyn was, was beyond what he could have ever imagined.

River shivered as Wyn’s hand climbed up the side of his head. He moaned as Wyn’s fingers threaded through his hair. He realized what was coming, but he didn’t have the willpower to stop it. Nor did he want it to.

A low, delirious sound escaped River as Wyn scratched the area between his ears. He felt like he was going to explode. The pleasure was too intense. His mind went blank. His eyes rolled back in his head. His knees trembled as his legs threatened to give way underneath him.

"Fuck, I love the way you act when I do that," Wyn growled as River quivered and writhed under his ministrations. It wasn’t until Wyn stopped and moved his hand away from the top of River’s head that River regained control of his body.

River moaned as Wyn kissed him again. This time, he kissed back. More than before. Wyn tasted like a warm summer breeze. It was beyond description and he couldn’t get enough.

Acting purely on instinct, River slid his hands down the back of Wyn’s pants. For all that the young warlock’s body was lean and well-defined, Wyn’s ass was soft and supple.

River moaned. It was almost like Wyn’s ass cheeks were made for his hands. They fit into his palms perfectly, and the soft, sweet sounds that Wyn made when he squeezed them sent shivers down River’s spine that went straight to the tip of his cock.

Before he knew what was happening, a growl bubbled out of River’s throat. A strength he never knew he had overcame him. He pushed himself off the wall and took Wyn with him. He continued forward, crossing the short distance to the wall opposite, and pinned the young warlock against it.

Cock harder than a steel rod, River humped frantically against Wyn’s leg and bit down on Wyn’s lower lip. When they broke apart, Wyn’s lips were swollen, and his eyes were wide, pupils blown.

"Mmm… Fuck," Wyn groaned. "I didn’t pin you for a top, baby, but I don’t fucking mind."

The words went in one of River’s ears and straight out the other. He didn’t understand, and he didn’t care, at this point. He stuck his nose into the crook of River’s neck and took a good long whiff, chest rumbling as the scent of his friend filled his lungs and thickened the haze of arousal in his head.

River wasn’t listening. Couldn’t listen. His cock controlled him, and all it wanted was to be buried in something hot and tight. He wanted to come. Needed to. The tight, lean body of his one and only friend was likely to give him what he craved.

Tail swishing back and forth behind him, River nibbled at the skin of Wyn’s neck. He could scarcely think, and what thoughts he did have were simplistic. Primal. "Fuck," he growled, under his breath, as he humped Wyn’s leg with increasing fervor.

For all the confidence that his newly-awakened instincts had afforded him, River was still a virgin unaccustomed to the ways of carnal pleasure. Despite his urge to spill where his body wanted him to spill, he could feel his climax approaching rapidly.

"Fuuuck," River grunted, under his breath. He was close. So close. He was practically dangling over the edge. Just a little more and he was going to get there. His body screamed for it. His cock pulsing and throbbing and swelling as the dam threatened to overflow.

River laid his head on Wyn’s shoulder. He rolled his hips and bucked them wildly, rubbing his cock against Wyn’s thigh as fast and as hard as he could. So consumed was he by the pleasure, by the desire to achieve release, that he failed to notice the arcane words Wyn whispered against the side of his head.

Just as he was about to reach his peak, River’s arms snapped behind his back. An invisible force pulled him away from Wyn, binding his feet and knees together. It forced him to stand stock still in the middle of the entranceway as Wyn pushed himself up off the wall with a salacious grin.

"I always thought you were more of a tabby cat, River," said Wyn, something dangerous twinkling in his dark eyes as his gaze hungrily devoured River from head to toe. "I never took you for a lion."

Wyn licked his bruised lips, mouth quirking into a small smirk as he stepped up to River in his invisible fetters. River struggled against his bondage, but it was no use. The magic that restrained him was far too strong, and the haze of lust in his head made it practically impossible to think of a beast-kin spell to free himself.

A low moan escaped River as Wyn dragged a single fingernail down the middle of his chest. "Not that I don’t enjoy your enthusiasm, baby, but I’d like to savor this for just a little longer," said Wyn.

River growled. He did want it to last longer, but he also wanted to cum now. If only he could free himself, he would grab Wyn, spin him around, bend him over, and ravage him until he was fucked full of cum, but the stupid, unfair magic was nigh unbreakable.

Wyn grinned as River redoubled his efforts in struggling against his bindings. He snapped his fingers, and River rose into the air, a foot off the floor. "Let’s take this to the bedroom, shall we?" he said, gently rubbing the outline of River’s cock as he walked past.


Wyn opened the door to what River assumed was the bedroom. He was right. With a flick of Wyn’s wrist, River floated into the room with Wyn following close behind.

River groaned. He’d since given up on trying to struggle free of Wyn’s magic. It was too powerful. And even despite his resignation his cock remained as hard as a steel rod. Every bit of arousal he’d felt before, and more besides, churned inside of him.

The door clicked shut behind Wyn, and moments later, River found himself turning around in the air to face him. Wyn did nothing but watch him, eyes dark, lips curled into a smirk.

Wyn reached down and adjusted himself in his pants. "I think I like it when you’re like this. All trussed up and helpless for me," he said.

The words were like lightning to River. He moaned, his entire body flushing with arousal. His fingertips tingled. His cock throbbed. He hadn’t known words could have such an effect.

Wyn stalked toward River with all the grace of a tiger. He stepped into River’s space, placing his hand on River’s chest, fingers splayed. "Let’s get you out of this, shall we?" he said.

River whimpered. Wyn felt so good. Smelled so good. His fingers left trails of tingling heat where they touched, and River could but shiver as Wyn’s hands slipped under the hem of his shirt and pushed it up.

Feeling as hot as he did, the air was felt stark and cold against River’s bare skin as Wyn pushed his shirt up and over the back of his head.

River blushed. Heat flooded into his cheeks. Even though he and Wyn had come this far, it hadn’t quite settled in his head that having sex meant getting naked. Until now.

Wyn walked around River. He pulled River’s shirt down along his restrained arms and slung it off to the side. "I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, baby, but you’re hot as fuck," said Wyn, whispering the words in River’s ear and sending a chill down River’s spine.

From where he stood, Wyn slid his hands into the waistband of River’s sweats. "Time to show the goods off," he said, with a quiet laugh. Slowly, as if he was taking his time and enjoying every moment of it, he slid them down River’s legs until they pooled at his ankles.

River jumped, or did so as much as he could manage in his bindings, when Wyn leaned forward and bit him on the ass cheek. "Cute butt," said Wyn, with a laugh, as the sweatpants fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Wyn walked out in front of River. His dark eyes met River’s gaze. He grabbed River’s cock and gave it a squeeze, eliciting a moan. "This was what I was interested in, though," he said. "Fuck, baby, you’re blessed in this department."

River glanced down. His cock looked huge in Wyn’s hands. He was aware that he was hung, one way or another. He’d always thought that his cock looked oversized on his slender frame.

Even so, River could not have imagined just how big he was, relatively. Wyn reached into his pants and whipped out his meat, which was a respectable size, and yet seemed to be half again as small as River’s.

"Forget hung like a horse," Wyn whistled. "How about hung like a cat-boy?"

River blushed. He’d never heard Wyn be so vulgar and it was doing things to him. His cock jumped in Wyn’s hand, a dollop of clear pre-cum dribbling from the tip.

"Why don’t I get you somewhere to sit?" said Wyn. He snapped his fingers and a chair from the side of the room flew to where River was hovering in the air. With his hand on River’s stomach, Wyn gently guided him down onto the chair.

River grunted as his bindings magically adapted to his new circumstances. His legs were fettered to the legs of the chair, forcing them apart. He sat up straight as his shoulders were bound against the back of his chair, his arms pulled behind the backrest. He let out a muffled groan as his cock strained in the air between his legs, dripping liberally onto the seat cushion underneath him.

Wyn knelt in front of River, between his legs. His hot breath wafted over the seat cushion and past River’s balls. The heat made his cock twitch and his nuts tingle. All he wanted was to break free and fuck the living daylights out of Wyn but it was clear who had the upper hand.

Leaning forward, Wyn grabbed River’s cock. He gave it a few tugs, jerking it with his right hand right by the side of his cheek whilst he looked up at River. "Gods, River, it’s so fun to play with," he said, with a devilish little grin.

River could only moan. He would have thrust his hips into Wyn’s hand if he were able, but Wyn’s magic kept him still on top of the chair. He was helpless to fight the stimulation, and even more helpless still to pursue the climax that his body was so desperately craving.

"I wish we could do this more often," said Wyn, dragging his tongue along the side of River’s cock. "Wouldn’t that be nice?"

River whined. He wanted to cum. Needed to cum. He was already there, straining at the edge. Just one more little push and he was going to go over. One more stroke and he was going to spill.

Wyn had other plans, however. He pulled away just as River’s orgasm was winding up. "What do you think?" he said, leaning back to sit on his feet. "Do you think that would be nice, too?"

River nodded. "Y-yes," he moaned, the truth spilling from him before he could so much as consider the ramifications. He couldn’t say "No." He didn’t want to.

"That’s good. Very good," said Wyn, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

River moaned again as Wyn’s slender fingers wrapped loosely around his shaft. They glided over the sensitive flesh, teasing, pleasurable, but not enough to do more than bring him right back to the edge.

"How often would you want to do this?" said Wyn, eyes smoldering as he locked gazes with River.

River didn’t have an answer. He didn’t have the faculties to provide one. He felt as if his brain had gone all to mush and could entertain none but the most base of thoughts. He just wanted to cum. He wanted to feel good.

"Every season?" said Wyn, giving River’s cock a light squeeze.

A moan tumbled from River’s lips. His eyes rolled back in his head. He nodded.

Wyn smirked. "Every month?"

River nodded again. That was even better. He’d never known pleasure like this before. Now that he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough. But if Wyn was willing to give it to him only once a month, then he was good with that. He could wait. He could endure. Just not today. He didn’t think he could take much more of Wyn’s teasing.

Wyn leaned down, never once breaking eye contact with River, and placed a kiss on the head of River’s weeping cock. "Maybe once a week, if that suits you better?"

Perish the thought. River didn’t think he’d be able to maintain his sanity if Wyn was willing to do this once a week with him. At the same time, however, he wanted it. He needed it, even. He hadn’t known it was the kind of thing that he would crave as badly as he did, but there was no denying his body’s desires.

River nodded, legs trembling as Wyn’s stroking of his cock picked up its pace.

"How about every day… Does that sound good for you?" said Wyn, alternating between quick, light strokes, and long, drawn-out strokes with fingers tightly gripping River’s cock.

River panted. He was salivating. Drooling. He wanted that. Gods, yes, he wanted that. To feel like this every day. It was likely to be exquisite torture and utter rapture at the same time.

"But that’s not the kind of thing your amma would approve of, is it?" said Wyn, something fiery dwelling behind his eyes as he held River’s cock firmly in place and swirled his tongue around the swollen head. "The Phlegethon would sooner freeze over than would she stand for it."

River whined. He supposed that was that. He couldn’t go against his amma. Not after all she’d done for him. No matter how much he wanted to do this all day, every day with Wyn.

"Oh well… I suppose we’ll just have to settle with doing this on the rare occasions that you’re allowed out of the house," said Wyn.

A growl rumbled through River’s chest as Wyn took his hand away yet again. River had been close. So close to coming.

River whined, both pleading to be allowed his release, and because of his immeasurable disappointment that this was unlikely to happen again any time soon. He slumped in his bindings, cock flagging somewhat but still hard as a rock and dripping.

"Of course, there might be a way to get around that," said Wyn.

River’s ears perked at the notion. His tail swished from side to side behind him.

Wyn snapped his fingers. A strip of leather flew out of a nearby dresser and landed in Wyn’s hand. It took River a moment to realize that it was a collar, one with a disc of faintly pink crystal dangling like a tag from the D-ring in the front.

"Your amma can’t get in the way if you’re my familiar, now can she?" said Wyn, a glint of mischief in his dark eyes.

For a moment, the illusion was shattered. Clarity, if tenuous, returned to River’s mind. Purely on instinct, he shook his head. "I-I can’t do that," he said.

"Oh?" said Wyn, quirking an eyebrow. "Why ever not?"

It wasn’t the reaction River was anticipating. He’d expected that Wyn would be disappointed, or pissed, given everything that had led up to this point. If anything, Wyn looked like he’d expected River’s answer.

"B-because she’d never forgive me," River stammered, his cock going somewhat limp despite Wyn’s masterful touch.

"Are you sure about that?" said Wyn.

No. River wasn’t sure about it, but he didn’t really want to risk being estranged from the only family he’d ever known. "Y—"

Whatever River was about to say died in his throat as his mind went blank. His cock was enveloped by a tight, wet heat. He could but throw his head back and moan. He’d not expected Wyn to swallow him whole and it had derailed his train of thought entirely.

For a moment, River struggled against his bonds, trying to shove his cock as deep down Wyn’s throat as he could. The sensation was amazing. Unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He couldn’t help but want more of it, but as before, he was not to have what he wanted.

Wyn pulled off River’s cock with a wet pop. He had a devilish grin on his face that said he knew exactly what he was doing. "Won’t she eventually learn to forgive her sweet little grandson?" said Wyn.

"I-I—" Before River could even start, Wyn’s lips had wrapped around the base of his shaft again. The thought that had barely come together in his head scattered like ashes in the wind. He whimpered, the pleasure too great for any sort of clarity in his head as his cock surged back to full hardness.

Scarce was the resistance River could muster against Wyn’s ministrations. He could feel himself fraying at the edges, his will being subsumed by the sheer pleasure of his cock sliding in and out of Wyn’s tight throat.

River struggled against his bonds. He was close again. So tantalizingly close. Just a little more and he could—but it was not to be so. Wyn pulled off just as he was about to come.

"P-please…" River groaned.

"Won’t you reconsider?" said Wyn, as if River had said nothing at all. Once the imminent threat of orgasm had subsided, Wyn took hold of River’s cock. He lightly stroked it as he continued, "Don’t you want to feel like this every day?"

River whimpered, but his answer remained unchanged. He couldn’t muster the words to say so, so he shook his head from side to side. All it earned him was a light chuckle and the light ghosting of Wyn’s hot breath over the head of his cock.

All too soon, River’s cock was engulfed. He moaned and struggled in vain to thrust his hips but the bonds refused to give. Wyn’s head bobbed up and down between his legs, the pleasure too much for River to handle. What little clarity he’d managed to wrest for himself slid away as the pleasure made his mind go blank.

And so it was for what felt like an eternity. River didn’t know how much time passed. It might have been a few minutes. It might have been a few hours. The only thing he knew, the only thing he could perceive, was the masterful working of Wyn’s tongue on his member.

"P-please!" River moaned, helpless in his predicament. "I-I just want to come!"

Wyn said nothing. He only looked up into River’s eyes, a twinkle in his own. He laid the collar against River’s thigh.

The leather band felt heavy. Meaningful. River was pretty sure that it meant Wyn was going to keep this up until he said yes. The only problem was that he couldn’t.

Over and over again, River was brought to the edge. Over and over again he fought to get there, to the climax that he so yearned for. Each time he was denied.

"Won’t you enjoy this more if we did it regularly?" said Wyn, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

River whimpered. He wanted nothing more, but the price was too great. He couldn’t give in, as much as he desired it. And yet, little by little, Wyn was wearing him down.

"Just imagine how good it would feel if I got to play with your fat cat-boy cock every day," said Wyn, eliciting another low moan from River.

On and on it went. Each time, River’s pleas went ignored. Even when he was silent, Wyn somehow knew just when to pull away to prevent him from reaching his climax. It was rapture. It was torture. It was unlike anything River had ever experienced and he could scarce keep himself together through it.

"P-please, Wyn, please… I-I can’t take any more," River blubbered, drool dribbling onto his chest. His whole body felt raw. Even the slightest draft of the air in the room sent electric shocks of pleasure straight to his cock.

All Wyn did was slide the collar up River’s thigh.

River whimpered. He looked at the collar. He couldn’t take his eyes away. In truth, he’d come around to the idea of it. Of being bound to Wyn. Of being toyed with like this.

"You wouldn’t have to worry about anything, if you were with me," said Wyn.

If River was being honest, it was a tempting offer.

Wyn swallowed River’s cock in one motion, then pulled off it with a wet slurp. "You’d be well-cared-for. You’d be pampered like a princess. All you’d have to do is sit around and look pretty…" said Wyn.

River whimpered. With every word that Wyn said, his case became more and more compelling.

"You’d be free of all the little niggling thoughts in that adorable head of yours," said Wyn.

River’s cock throbbed.

"You wouldn’t have to think. You wouldn’t have to make your own decisions…"

River was close. So close.

"If you want, I can make you feel this way all the time. Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t you like that?" said Wyn, his dark eyes burning into River’s.

River panted, chest heaving as his cock strained. His whole body tensed. His toes curled. He was almost there. Just a little more.

"But I mean, if you’d rather go back to your amma now, I wouldn’t stop you," said Wyn, pulling away again right at the last moment.

River whimpered. Something inside him broke. "I’ll do it!" he said, groaning as his cock throbbed between his legs. "I’ll be your familiar!" he practically screamed.

"Good boy," said Wyn, swiping the collar off River’s thigh and wrapping it around River’s neck with a single, graceful motion. As soon as he snapped the collar shut around River’s neck, the buckle disappeared, leaving a single smooth loop of leather that would be nigh-impossible to remove.

The pink crystal hanging off the D-ring glowed softly as wave after wave after wave of exquisite pleasure rolled through River’s body. His eyes rolled back in his head. His mind went blank. He couldn’t do anything but wordlessly moan as the desire to obey and please his master was etched into the very core of his being.

Once the collar had finished its bonding with River, Wyn stood up from between the cat-boy’s legs. He stripped his shirt off and let it fall by the wayside. He stepped out of his pants and slid his underwear down his legs.

River’s cock surged. To see Wyn, his master, naked before him, was a pleasure unlike anything up until this point. All he could feel was reverence and all-consuming lust.

River struggled against his bindings but they held fast. All he could do was watch and anticipate as Wyn, facing him, straddled his legs and slowly sat down.

The tight heat of Wyn’s ass enveloped River’s cock. It was ecstasy. He could but moan. He lost himself in the sensation, his cock enveloped by the grip of Wyn’s ass.

Up and down Wyn rode River’s cock for what felt like an eternity. Up and down. Harder. Faster. Until the chair underneath the both of them began to creak.

The pleasure built and built and built. Wyn’s cock rubbed up and down on River’s stomach. River could feel it pulse and throb and swell.

River’s own orgasm was close and yet it remained at arm’s length, always just out of reach. He was losing his mind. He was losing himself. All he could think of was the pleasure, the desire to come.

With a loud grunt, Wyn thrust his ass onto River’s cock one last time. He moaned, tilting his head back as his cock sprayed his seed onto River’s belly. "Fuck," Wyn moaned. "That was the best I’ve had in a while."

River was painfully close to orgasm. A hairsbreadth from tipping over the edge. He thought that Wyn might finish him off this time, as a reward for accepting the collar and the familiar pact, but instead, Wyn hopped off him with a grin and a kiss to his cheek.

"You’re mine now, baby," said Wyn, with a light laugh.

"P-please…" River moaned.

"I never said I’d let you come," said Wyn. "I like you better when you’re this horny and desperate for me."

River’s eyes widened. He struggled against his bonds. "P-please, y-you can’t!"

"I can," said Wyn. "Don’t worry. You’ll learn to like it. After all, we’ll be doing this every day now, right?"

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