Ingenious #1

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Q uiggs awakened to find he’d flopped over on his stomach with the right side of his face mashed against a pillow. A musky scent clung to his skin, and his neck felt sticky as if licked. Like when Beau roused him from bed in the morning.

“Go away, Beau,” he mumbled. From habit, he slid his hand below his waist to check out his morning wood. Instead of leaking dick, he found a large pillow in his path pushing his naked ass up in the air. Huh? What the…?

He gasped at a burning, twisting pressure. A heavy hand on his back pressed him down when he tried to roll away.

“The ache you’re feeling is the plug I’m sliding into your tight hole.” With those dark words, Max worked the greased plug in an inch.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit… the big plug. The whopper he always lied to Stefan about when asked if he’d practiced stretching. Quiggs woke fully alert to the truth—he was no longer a cadet. He was an unclaimed concubine.

Max knelt one knee on the bed and planted the other foot on the floor as he applied more twisting pressure. “I’ve never fucked a virgin hole.” Max spoke conversationally as if they were at the breakfast table. “If medical hadn’t cleared you for penetration, I’d be afraid of tearing you, as tight as you are.”

“Ow-ow-ow! You’re spit roasting me!”

“Relax. Stop clenching.”

Instead, Quiggs tightened and pressed deeper into the pillow to escape the burn. He yelped as a hand smacked his ass.

“Cooperate.”

Quiggs blew out a noisy breath. He felt his ring resisting the pressure. “Couldn’t this wait until after— oh-oh-oh —breakfast?”

Max dropped the friendly tone. “Right now, I’m beyond horny. It’s morning. You slept like the dead all night no matter where I touched or licked. I didn’t sleep at all. From now on. I come first. Lesson learned.”

Quiggs panted as Max twisted the plug. “I always sleep— ooof —like the dead. Especially after— ooof-ooof-ooof —coming twice. Oh fuck, stop!”

The plug bumped something, causing a different hitch in Quiggs’s breathing—the much-lauded third nut. The one two inches up his anus and belly side. The place he’d never quite located because until now it had slept like the dead too. Quiggs heard a cooing sound. Was that him? Another bump. Holy fuck, it was him cooing. Despite the burn, his cock stirred.

“Feeling better?” Max asked.

“Mmmmmm.” He closed his eyes as Max gently rubbed the plug against the sweet spot.

“Wake the fuck up!” Max shoved the plug in to the hilt, then released him.

Quiggs scooted away, lying with his blazing backside facing the wall. He immediately reached behind to ease it out.

Max growled, “Leave it in until you’re relaxed.”

“How am I supposed to relax with a plug up my ass? We’ll be here all day and into tomorrow before I relax.” Quiggs pulled a pillow under his head, another over his deflated cock .

Max made himself comfortable sitting on the bed with his legs crossed. Quiggs forgot the plug when he saw that Max was naked. A smooth broad chest padded with muscle tapered to a trim waist, and his arms were bigger than Quiggs’s thighs. His skin was a light bronze all over with little body hair. Slashing claws had left pale stripes across his chest and upper arms. Fangs had ripped flesh on the side of his left hip, leaving behind a jagged dent.

The scars shamed Quiggs for whimpering at the plug’s burn.

“Feel free to touch and look. My concubine’s privilege.” Max raised a knee and spread his legs wide to offer a better view.

Quiggs lowered his gaze. His mouth went dry at the erection jutting up against Max’s navel. Raising himself up on his elbow, he took his first look at the cock he was expected to service, surprised how it slapped up against Max’s belly instead of sagging in an S-curve from the weight. Quiggs would have applauded the magnificence, except he remembered its destination was deep inside him.

Leaving the plug in until tomorrow seemed a good idea.

Max’s cock was as long and thick as Quiggs’s bony wrist. The ring on the dark-veined shaft intrigued him. For years, he and Beau had speculated on its purpose. Cadets ridiculed Beau’s ring. Max must have endured terrible nicknames and pranks before he became the Athletic Champion.

Max’s fists clenched on his thighs, his posture braced for rejection. “Do I disgust you?” he asked quietly, confirming Quiggs’s suspicions

“I lived with Beau, so I know about the difference. I’ve never seen an erect one before. It’s… it’s… intriguing.”

Max fists relaxed.

Quiggs sat up for a closer view and hissed as the plug jiggled. To relieve the pressure, he went up on all fours as he inspected the anomaly. His fingers explored until Max’s straining erection looked like a fat eel that had swallowed a mollusk. He stroked the frenulum with two thumbs and watched the ring swell and lighten to a pale pink. Odd. Why hadn’t it flushed a dark red from engorged blood like the rest of the shaft?

He focused on the puzzle, absently voicing his thoughts. “Doctors told me Beau’s ring was a muscle that pleasured a female’s channel, inciting strong contractions to draw in ejaculate.” He blinked up at Max for confirmation.

Max’s face was as purplish red as his mushroom crown. “You fucking tease. Stop talking and stroke me.”

But Quiggs was immersed in observation instead of pleasuring. He detected undulations in the ring when he petted it. “Come on, Max. Is it a muscle allowing you to move your cock like a third arm?”

“It is not a third arm. It does not perform tricks.”

Quiggs gently pinched up the ring to see how it was attached to the shaft. “Do you knot inside a woman?”

Max leered down at Quiggs. “I’ve never fucked a woman to know. Want to know if it knots when I fuck a man’s channel?”

“What I want is to observe your ring when you ejaculate.” Quiggs slid a hand down Max’s cock from tip to base, then in reverse from base to tip. He didn’t see pre-cum. Determined to rub Max off, he two-fisted the monster fast and hard with squeezing twists to the crown.

Max cursed and stopped the rhythm.

“What am I doing wrong?” Quiggs asked. This was how he enjoyed jerking off.

“You need slick when there’s no pre-cum,” Max told him. “Every cadet is taught this. Or did you skip the lectures?”

“After a night of sustained arousal, you should be leaking pre-cum like a cracked faucet. But your slit’s dry, which must mean…” Quiggs’s voice trailed off as his mind chased down the answer. His grip on the shaft slackened.

“No! Stay with me!”

Quiggs sucked in a breath before rattling off, “You can’t leak because the ring isn’t a muscle to pleasure a female. It’s a gland designed to secrete scent into the ejaculate traveling down your shaft. The scent is white, probably viscous and plentiful, which explains why the ring pales as it swells. The absence of pre-cum suggests a sphincter that won’t relax until you orgasm.” Quiggs rocked back on his heels, arms fisting the air in triumph.

A baleful silence from Max brought him back to the present.

“Um… I’ll get the oil.”

Quiggs fetched the oil off the nightstand, dragged a fur rug beside the bed, and motioned for Max to sit on the edge of the mattress and open his thighs. He knelt between them and, following Stefan’s lessons, drizzled the berry-flavored oil on Max’s flagging cock. With firm, smooth strokes, he soon had his owner hard.

He watched Max thrust into his hands. “Max?”

“Hmmmm?”

“I’m right about your ring, aren’t I?”

Max flopped backward on the bed with an arm over his eyes. He heaved an aggrieved sigh. “The ring is a gland surrounded by muscle. The sphincter releases scent to mix with seed during ejaculation. It only leaks in response to a female’s breeding heat. During copulation, the ring pulses and heats, soothing the female’s breeding frenzy so she does not harm the male. When a male reaches orgasm, the scent intoxicates a female, so she doesn’t eviscerate him with a back kick. The odor offends humans. Men rush away to scrub off after having sex with me.”

Max reared up on his elbows, astonished at his scholarly speech. “Dammit. Your brain fog is contagious.” He fell back on the bed. “Any more questions?”

“I’m done. Thank you.”

Quiggs hummed as he focused on stroking Max to orgasm and examining the ejaculate. He varied the rhythm, learning his owner preferred three slow twisting strokes, then a simple fast six. Then a pause, followed by three light pulsing squeezes on his ring between thumb and forefinger. Each time Max neared the edge, he squeezed his massive thighs around Quiggs’s waist and disrupted the rhythm.

“Aw, Max, hurry up and come in my hand. I want to watch. ”

“I’m waiting to fuck.”

Quiggs’s arms were tiring out. “Did you drink Stefan’s special cum juice?”

“Twice a day once Beau took over in the vines. Stuff’s not bad. Tastes like—”

Max’s mouth rounded in a silent Oh as Quiggs engulfed the ruby crown with his lips folded over his teeth and a fist at the root to prevent gagging. His tongue lapped awkwardly, making up for technique with bouncy enthusiasm. Oh, yeah, Quiggs enjoyed the feel of cock stretching his lips. He licked under the crown, along the dark vein, around the hot ring. When Max’s buttocks clenched, the pulses of heat on the ring intensified, throbbing like a wound against his tongue.

Quiggs’s mouth popped off to pant, “I love sucking dick.” He dove back in, slurping noisily, then popping off to add, “I’ve missed two years of this. I should have swallowed gallons by now. It’s like feeding off your power. It’s like—”

“Shut up and suck.” Max’s hands gripped Quiggs’s head and held him down. “And remember to worship the twins.”

Quiggs giggled around his mouthful. He tugged, sucked, twisted, pumped, two-fingered, licked until his jaw ached and tears streamed down his cheeks to mingle with the drool. He tongued the slit, disappointed there was no pre-cum to taste.

Max cursed, praised, trembled. His balls drew tight to his ass. It became a duel with Quiggs determined to watch and Max determined to wear him out until he begged to be fucked.

Max yelled, “Can’t wait. Now!”

Quiggs pulled off to watch. Instead of spurting, Max manhandled him onto the bed on all fours with a pillow under his hips and his braid swept aside. He yanked out the plug with a twist, causing Quiggs to yip.

“Max? Slow down. Don’t hurt me.” Quiggs peered over his shoulder and found Max’s feverish gaze on his pucker as he oiled his cock .

Quiggs braced for the invasion. He had always wanted to experience a cock easing inside. The clinic had screened him for penetration, and Max’s measurement was on file. As improbable as it seemed, Max would fit. The oiled tip nudged his anus, and he whimpered as Max pushed in.

“Breathe out. Don’t clench.” Max pushed harder; the inner ring resisted. He pulled the hard-fought inch out. “Rub your cock,” he panted. “The burn eases if you’re aroused.”

Quiggs stroked, unable to find a pleasing rhythm. Stefan had warned him first times weren’t euphoric experiences.

Max gripped his concubine’s ass. “Ready to take me?”

“Ready,” Quiggs lied. His breath whooshed out as Max pushed in using small rocking motions instead of one deep drill.

“Tell me if it’s hurting...” Max groaned from the effort of holding back.

Fuck yeah, it hurt . Quiggs bit the pillow rather than admit the truth and risk Max pulling out and starting over again.

When he was balls deep, Max stilled, waiting for Quiggs to adjust to him. “How you doing, my baby cadet?” he panted.

“Burns,” was all Quiggs could manage while he struggled for breath. He couldn’t detect Max’s ring because of the burning stretch.

“Some burn’s normal. Tell me when I can move.” Max nibbled along the uninjured shoulder, his hands gliding up and down Quiggs’s waist.

When he could breathe, Quiggs looked over his good shoulder at Max’s concerned face. He remembered yesterday, when he’d wanted his first time to be with Miles. He summoned a weak smile. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Max began slow measured thrusts. He praised Quiggs’s plump white cheeks and creamy skin. He swore on his honor Quiggs was a treasure. How wonderful his tight velvet glove felt.

That the fierce quarter-feral commander was so vocal surprised Quiggs. Where were the grunts, the animal cries, the crude handling?

Max changed his angle and rubbed over the famed third nut, sending a tingling pleasure up Quiggs’s spine. Cadets raved how intense their orgasms were when a partner pounded the sweet spot. Maybe later, with more experience, he’d agree. Right now, the discomfort overwhelmed the pleasure. And what ass wipe told Max hammering the sweet spot blocked the burn? Any faster and he’d rupture Quiggs’s gland.

Max reached beneath and discovered Quiggs’s limp cock. “Oh, baby, no. Let me get you hard again.”

Though the firm, squeezing strokes hardened Quiggs, his hole burned. As Max rode the edge of his own pleasure, his grip roughened to a tugging rhythm, leaving Quiggs too sensitized to come. It was not happening for him this time. He didn’t want to spoil it for Max by asking him to stop, not after all the wonderful words of praise.

He cheated by resorting to the oldest trick in the concubine’s sex manual. When your fuck hole wore out, fake it by squeezing your channel and tilting your man into orgasm.

Max assumed Quiggs was into the pleasure now. “Yes, yes. I feel you loving it.” Both hands gripped Quiggs’s hips, and he thrust faster, harder, deeper to bring them off together.

Quiggs squeezed as he moaned, “So huge… so hard. Ohfuckohfuckohfuuuuuuck!”

Max tipped over the point of no return. His hips locked tightly against Quiggs as he roared his pleasure, ejaculating with a gush of seed instead of spurts. Sated, he pulled out with an achy pop and rolled to his side, chest heaving.

Quiggs eased onto his back to give his knees a rest. He stared at the ceiling, wondering if he should admit he hadn’t come, or if he should slip away pretending to clean up before Max guessed.

Max raised up on an elbow. A glimmer of a smile softened his face as he traced a line down the middle of Quiggs’s chest to below his navel. The smile disappeared as he patted Quiggs’s dry belly and cock .

Max inhaled sharply. “You didn’t come? I thought… you sounded as if…”

“I… um… sort of faked it.” He waited for Max’s anger.

Instead, Max sounded hurt. “I wanted you to enjoy your first time with me. Talk to me. What went wrong?”

“My ass hurt, and you choked my dick like you were milking a goat.”

Max loomed over him, gripping his jaw and forcing Quiggs to meet the angry gray eyes of the commander who punished insubordination from his soldiers. “You should have told me to stop instead of pretending. Did you lie about sucking my cock?”

Quiggs grinned. “Believe me. I loved it. I wanted to know if the cum juice worked.”

The wounded anger fled. Max swiped a finger in the cum leaking down Quiggs’s thighs and held it out for him to taste. “Tell me what you think.”

Quiggs averted his face. “Eww! Not after it’s been inside my ass!”

Max licked his finger. “Mmmmm. The juice does improve it. Could use a shake of pepper though.”

“Eww!”

Max laughed and enfolded Quiggs in his arms. “It was so damn good inside you. Give me a few minutes to recover, then it’s your turn. Want my mouth on your cock? I’ll do it if you warn me before you come. Tell me what you want. No pretending.”

Quiggs snuggled his face into Max’s chest and mumbled his request.

“What was that?”

Quiggs leaned back. “I said I don’t want your mouth on my cock. I want to fuck you.”

Max cradled him closer. “Good to hear. I’ll be extra gentle.”

“I mean I really, really want to be inside you when we fuck.”

Max pulled away. “Didn’t Stefan give you the talk? I don’t reciprocate.”

“Just once. I want to cut my braid. ”

“My feral blood won’t let me submit. It’s instinctive. I can’t fight my nature.”

“We could try.”

Max frowned. “No. Trust me on this. I’d hurt you.”

“You sound as if your fuck hole will spring teeth and bite off my cock. You said no pretending between us. Admit you’re blaming instinct when it’s your stubborn pride at fault.”

In a flash Max straddled Quiggs’s waist. “You owe me a kiss. Twelve seconds, my concubine. Open up for me.” His heavy-lidded eyes watched Quiggs as he lowered his head. He didn’t pin him down. He left Quiggs room to slide from beneath him and escape.

Quiggs tried to open for Max’s tongue, but his lips shut so tight a greased needle couldn’t slip through the seam. His gut clenched. Bile burned the back of his throat. He couldn’t… he absolutely couldn’t submit to this perversion. Max would never treat him like a man again if he yielded.

Max’s lips trailed to his ear and whispered, “Not so easy fighting instinct, is it?” He tossed Quiggs a towel before disappearing behind the bathing screen to draw a bath.

Cum bubbled out Quiggs’s ass when he stood by the bed to clean up, sticky and smelling like mown grass and old leather from Stefan’s juice. He wiped his crease with a towel and kept wiping. And wiping. Copious seed, Stefan had warned. What an understatement. From the amount leaking down the back of his thighs, Quiggs wondered if Max had a third kidney strictly for seed.

Quiggs slipped on a short white robe. Three days confined in the penthouse with Max with nothing to do but eat, sleep, fuck… talk.

Not so easy fighting instinct, is it?

Quiggs heard frustrated splashes when he didn’t join Max in the tub to scrub his back like a proper concubine. He ignored them. Stefan had left packets of pain powders and a jar of numbing cream on the vanity. Quiggs applied the cream but left the powders alone. He needed a clear head. Max had promised on his honor to let Quiggs cut his braid. He called him a naive baby cadet, but Quiggs understood the special bond between them would wither if he insisted on visiting a pleasure house.

The splashing ceased. He peeked through a crack between the panels of the screen and found Max lying in bubbles with his head resting on a folded towel and a cloth over his eyes. A headache? Good. Quiggs had aches everywhere.

He waddled to the kitchen for something to eat. Stefan had left a tray of cheese spreads and crackers on the kitchen countertop. Quiggs polished it off. Max would have to wait for Cutty to roll in the breakfast cart. He brushed the crumbs off his robe, then slid open the balcony door and stepped outside under the eave.

Dammit. He hated his braid.

A brief spatter of raindrops hit his head and rolled down his neck. He stepped further out on the balcony to check the sky and heard a crunch beneath his bare feet. Curling bits of gray like flaking paint littered the balcony beneath the eave. He reached down to pick up a flake, and a raindrop struck the back of his hand. The orange raindrop regarded Quiggs through a cluster of shiny eyes as its legs skittered backwards, then forwards.

Quiggs froze.

The orange raindrop was a tiny one-inch scorpion, most of the inch a stinger that delivered a paralytic. Bits of speckled gray shell clung to the hatchling’s back. Any move from Quiggs would trigger a painful sting like boiling oil poured on the skin, earning the scorpions the nickname “boilers.”

The crunchy debris was the broken shells of hundreds of siblings, which hunted together the first week. A hatchling’s first instinct was to seek out warm-blooded prey and suck its juices. Once a victim was found, the hatchlings closed in, each picking a nice warm dining spot while their prey was unaware. Once the prey reacted to their presence, the hatchlings launched a stinging frenzy.

The boilers lived in the far outlands. How did a nest of them hatch on the balcony?

Quiggs stared at the boiler on his hand. If he knocked it off, the rest would attack. A dozen stings incapacitated a victim for days. Two dozen could kill. Three dozen did kill.

“Quiggs… keep absolutely still.” Max stood behind him. “I’m flicking it off with a towel.”

Before the towel struck, the scorpion stung. The rest attacked from positions on his chest, back, neck, thighs. Quiggs screamed, his body afire.

He heard Max curse and was dimly aware Max was being stung also as he ripped off Quiggs’s robe and batted the scorpions off with his claws. Soldiers surrounded them. Shrill whistles sounded. Gloved hands slapped at Quiggs, then rolled him in a blanket.

“Commander, your arms are swelling…”

“The guard on the roof is not responding.”

“They’re swarming the next balcony.”

“Clear the building. Exterminate every room.”

Max raced from the apartment, cradling him like a swaddled baby.

Quiggs screams dried. He struggled to draw shallow breaths. While the rest of his body burned, his chest muscles were numb slabs, barely lifting when he fought for a breath. “My… chest…”

“Focus on your breathing.” Max’s voice was tight with pain. “We’re almost at the hospital. Focus on each breath. You hear me, Quiggs? Fight back.”

Max handed him off to medics rushing toward them with a stretcher. “No… Quiggs first. Go.”

His chest rose, fell, lost the fight. His eyes rolled up, and the sky swallowed him, the clouds closing over him like a burning fleece.