Beware of Arma

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story that includes gay references and gay sex. It also includes references to religion. If it is illegal for you to be reading stories that include gay references or if your under age please stop now. If you take religion seriously then either stop reading now or take the ideas in this story for what they are: just a story and they are not real as far as I'm aware. :)

Thanks to my friend for reading this for me and checking it all makes sense and there are no glaring errors.

Comments are all welcome -- you can email me. If you liked this story you might enjoy my other story posted called Opposites Attract! If you already keep up with my other story, then you may like this story as well :)

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Have you ever made the mistake of being too noticeable and attracted the wrong attention? I have. Have you ever caught the attention of something that then decides it wants to own you? I have. Be careful as this is my warning to you, don't be too arrogant or attention seeking it may bring you more attention and trouble then you wanted. I was arrogant and attention seeking enough that I challenged trouble and karma sent trouble straight back at me.

I suppose you want to know who I am, don't you? My mother gave me the name Christian but most people call me Chris if they know what's good for them. With a name like Christian you have to be particular about that sort of thing. Now I've added on the name Shax but explanations for that can wait. I am a thief, a liar, a deceiver and at times a trickster; I'm a bold brat for better of another world and proud of it.

I am 5'10 and my body is lean with a certain wiry strength but I am on the small side, I was always the type who ate like a truck and never gained any weight for my trouble. My narrow shoulders, lean, flexible body and small, nimble fingers enable me to be good at what I did and still carry on.

My Irish mother gave me her thick, wavy black hair that I wear to the bottom of my ears; it's always a bit tousled no matter what I do to it. From her I got my rosy cheeked skin but missed out on inheriting her green eyes, my eyes are cold, icy black, no bullshit they are actually black and I'm often told that my cold gaze is unnerving. The proud, regal cast to my features saves my face from being a little too delicate, a little too fey. No boy likes to be pretty or on the small side, I was no exception.

I was roundly picked on and beaten up until I learned to fight back. I was only 11 when I met my best friend Jared and his group of street thieves. I learned enough nasty tricks from them that I learned to fight off my attackers. I was cocky and a scrappy enough kid that I would pick my own fights. It amuses me now to remember how proud I was to have earned a big enough reputation to be given a wide berth.

I had a talent for lying and being a thief it would seem, but that wasn't all I had a talent for, I was always a little different. A hungry, dark power coiled deep inside me, sleeping like some sleek predatory beast. It only took for me to see or sense anger, rage, or lust in somebody and I would get the unsettling feeling of that feral energy stirring.

I will admit that there were times I tapped into that shadowy power if somebody pissed me off or when I was compelled to. I'd trap the person in my icy, magnetic glare and allow the power to stir and pounce. I was too young and inexperienced to realise what was happening, to know that I was stealing life force, the souls of those people. What I did understand was that the pure energy I pulled from them fed me and gave me the best high.

My mother was an alcoholic but a contented one, luckily the death of a maternal aunt left her with enough money that we never worried about money. I remember she'd drape herself comfortably in the hammock that was stretched between the two ancient plum trees in the back yard. In the shade of the trees she'd hold a mug of cheap wine or whiskey in her tiny, elegant hands and stare dreamily into space. She often told strange stories about demon prince lovers and Irish legends in her soft, lilting voice while I curled up beside her in that big, and comfortable hammock. My mother when she wasn't drunk was a tender, but absentminded figure in my life and I was allowed to run wild for the most part.

Then came the day that changed my life, I still remember it like it was yesterday. It was my eighteenth birthday; earlier on I had gotten drunk and stoned with Jared and a few other boys from our little gang in a graveyard. I was sprawled lazily in the grass, bored and restless, taking an occasional turn with the joint being passed around our group. I was staring at the dark sky above me and don't know what possessed me that night, my boredom? My restlessness or the weed we were smoking? I dared the heaven's stretching above me. I was listening to my friends talking shit but inside I continued with my silent taunts and jeers to the stars. I felt the dark, hungry beast in me stirring and stretching as it raised a muzzle to the skies and sniffed, I felt a distinct cock of its head as if it was listening and it was very curious.

Then I saw what it sensed in the darkest corner of the graveyard, something hazy was taking shape under a huge, old willow tree. At first it was hazy, ghostlike in that I could see right through it but even then I could feel his power and the dark aura. Then the moon broke free of the clouds to shine a beam of moonlight directly at the spot. It allowed me to get a good look at the figure and I couldn't help the soft gasp of terror that escaped me, because for a mere instant every hair on body stood straight up, quivering. The beast in me growled in recognition greeting an equal it apparently knew or recognised. Now I know that it was just reacting to the presence of another Demon Lord, all demons recognise and know each other from the feel and "scent" of their energy and aura.

It seemed that the heavens, hell or some other godforsaken place had taken me at my word and answered me; or rather it was just that Leo heard me and chose to answer me in person. That spectral figure was a giant, sleek four legged predator; he was all red eyes, sharp claws and fangs, flexing its muscles, its great bat like wings rustling in an invisible wind. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach, struck dumb and winded by the force of his dark power and I found him beautiful. Despite my fear and instinctive, primitive desire to run, I wanted to go up to him and touch him, he was all rippling muscles and charcoal grey hide. Then the hazy image of the demon solidified and if I thought his beast was beautiful, it was nothing to what was in front of me now.

Even if I had not seen the first image, I still would not have believed he was just a beautiful man, there was something no quite right, not quite human. He was tall; his body was a perfect mix of lean sinuous grace and leashed power. His hair was jet black, as it fell from a widow's peak; it reached the nape of his neck. His pale skin was clear and smooth as it stretched over his muscles. His face was faultless with its high cheekbones, large silver eyes and sensual lips, youthful, but there was something else that spoke of the long passage of time. Like my own features, something about the arrangement of his features was a little too exotic, a little too fey for him to be human.

A second punch drove deep into my lungs winding me for the second time as I realised he was watching me, curiosity bright in those silver eyes and right then I was caught, despite my growing fear I wanted him and felt my own curiosity respond. Maybe if I'd listened to my mother's stories or had just been more aware of demons, I might have got away, I should have run away screaming.

I watched mesmerised, caught as I was in the silver grip of his eyes, as his lips curved up in a knowing way. I found for once that it was me that couldn't move, breathe or tear my eyes away. Twin dimples appeared in his cheeks, flashing with his smile as I felt him moving through my head, looking at my most personal thoughts, my memories and feelings. My cock already impossibly hard throbbed as my body trembled. Quite distinctly I heard his mocking laugh, low and velvety as it purred through me, stroking things that should never be stroked.

"You called, I answered. Didn't your mother tell you to be careful what you ask for?" I heard the silky promise and the mocking amusement in his low, purring voice as the words appeared in my head and then he was gone.

Deep inside me I felt a wrenching as if my very soul had been ripped out with his disappearance. The disappointment and deep craving to have him nearly crushed me with the force of it. I was immediately obsessed over the days that followed as his image haunted my dreams and waking thoughts. I thought I saw him everywhere I went and found myself searching for him. I knew in my bones that he was there, watching me as I watched for him. But I have always been impatient and my temper was sparking at the game he was playing with me and that was just the start of it all.

As it turned out he allowed me to see him again a few days later, I was at a gypsy fair in a local park. Jared and I had come to case the crowd and do a bit of light-fingered work for our supper as he jokingly referred to what we did. I had taken a quick break, signalling Jared to let him know I was going as I left the crowd. I sat on a park bench, a lit smoke in one hand, a coke in the other and there he was.

He was leaning against a tree, inhaling the smoke from his own cigarette he was holding in his long fingers, lazily breathing out the smoke. His silver eyes were watching me intently; the expression on his face both amused and full of knowing mischief as if he knew something I didn't. It drove me crazy that expression and I glared at him, flipping him the bird. He grinned at me, laughing silently at me and vanished into thin air leaving behind the echo of his laughter and the lingering trace of his power.

Pissed off I was left to glare at the tree he'd been leaning against wondering what was going on and feeling frustrated. He was playing with me and I didn't like it at all, not only playing with me but it was a game only he seemed to know the rules to. It appeared he wasn't finished with me yet either, whether he let me see him or not he started playing with my mind.

Sometimes he'd talk to me in that silky purr; other times I'd feel the phantom brush of teasing fingers. It might be a random wif of his smell, or just the feel of his energy, enough to let me know he was there watching me, taunting me. He would appear, then vanish and the game continued as he started fucking me in my dreams. I'd have to endure waking up gasping and trembling, left alone in my sticky, sweat soaked bed to tremble and long for him.

As the days continued without him actually doing anything to relieve my need for him, I got angrier, patience has never been my strength. I cursed him and accused him of being a coward, but my curses just amused him, the angrier and more desperate I got, the more amused he seemed to be by the whole thing, and I suspected turned on. My instincts were proved right when I saw him for the third time and he decided he'd take it to the next level. It appeared he was on a path to drive me out of my mind or was after some other goal I couldn't fathom.

Then it happened, I was at a local club with a couple of the boys; I'd walked outside by myself to smoke a joint I'd managed to score. I was leaning against the rough, cool brick wall waiting for him despite my anger and frustration. To be honest by that stage I was helplessly caught in his game and was deliberately going places on my own in an effort to draw him to me.

He took his time coming to me, letting me cool my heels. I felt the presence of his power before I saw him, as he let me feel that he was there, teasing me. My own energy knowing it was him began to stir and perk up, if it could be called a perky sort of thing. I glared at the space around me and folded my arms across my chest waiting impatiently for him to get over himself.

Finally he decided to show himself and I spotted him lounging against the wall at the start of the ally watching me, from behind the cloud of smoke he was breathing out. The familiar cigarette was with him leaving its fragrant spicy scent to waft towards me. Curiously I wondered what was in that cigarette, it didn't smell like ordinary tobacco or weed for that matter, the stuff had an almost tangy, spicy smell to it, like cinnamon and pepper dusted green apples and it stimulated rather then relaxed.

"Care to finish what you start for once?" I taunted him, knowing my black eyes would be flashing with a mix of anger and my daring. I raised my chin proudly and smirked at him like the brat I was, inviting trouble to come and get me.

The silver eyes watching me gleamed as his lips curved up into that wicked smile of his, dimples flashing at me. He straightened from his lazy pose against the wall and ambled towards me as he flicked the cigarette on the ground and ground it out under the toe of the black boot he was wearing. His eyes never wavered from mine, I had a moment of real fear as his eyes flared red and the air around us felt oppressed by his dark aura.

I struggled to breathe under the compulsion of his power that forced me against the wall and felt my fear grow as I saw an odd shifting of something under his skin, like a ripple in a still pool. Despite my own soul deep fear and his compulsion making it impossible for me to move or even breathe, I wasn't going anywhere and my cock was already rock hard, I wanted him. His smile grew becoming that knowing smirk that drove me insane with rage. His eyes gleamed red and then the vague impressions of something else were gone, replaced by silver eyes and his exotic, unearthly face.

Before I could blink or do much more then process the blurred impressions that flashed by he was kissing me and his arms were wrapping around me, pulling me against his suddenly aggressive body and I felt my power respond to the siren call of his. For a moment I felt the need to pay him back for some of the torture he'd forced on me and I bit his lip aggressively and deliberately rubbed against him.

He shuddered and growled a curse against my mouth and ripped his mouth away. He forced my squirming body against the wall and his taller height forced me to stretch up towards him so I was forced up onto my tip toes, off balance except for his weight and the wall at my back I moaned, wriggling eagerly against him as I wrapped myself around him, clamping his body against mine as I ground against him. I revelled in the feel of his muscles and his heat, a bit delirious that this was actually happening. That smell of spiced, peppery apples lingered around him and made me want to just eat him and made my nose quiver like I wanted to sneeze.

Delirious as I was I was still aware enough to be conscious of my own racing heart and ragged breathing and of the absence of an answering racing heart. Seizing on my soft moans he came back to my mouth and kissed me, forcing his tongue into my mouth and effectively distracting me from that frightening realisation. I tightened my grip on him and let him have my mouth. This time he moaned as I sucked on his tongue and returned his kiss just as hungrily. I felt his hands squeeze my ass and found myself arching into his hands like a cat. I was helpless against his strength, his hunger for me and from what he was doing to me.

Then he was pushing me away and he pulled his mouth away from me. For a moment or two there was a bit of a struggle as I tried to climb him and he attempted to push me down his body as I attacked him with my mouth. I quickly realised he was letting me get away with fighting him as I felt him shudder and the humiliating ease he used to hold me away from his body.

His eyes flared that feral red, gleaming with hungry satisfaction as I clung to him stubbornly and I felt gratified by his ragged breathing. His heart might not beat, but he was like me enough that he had to breathe and was likewise affected. He shuddered again in the tight clasp I had on him and I felt something in him weaken. A feral part of me recognised that tiny give as a sign that he was loosing his will to me, not realising what this meant or what danger I was in. I pressed my advantaged and pressed against him, allowing him to feel how happy I was to be there. Once again I was calling to trouble without knowing it, tempting him.

But he released me and stood there, staring down at me with an enigmatic expression, some equally enigmatic emotion flashing through his eyes. Abruptly he flashed me that devilish smile of his and vanished, right there, a step or two away from me so I was left with the scent of him and the rush of displaced air as he vanished in plain sight.

Pissed off and wanting him again I kicked the wall with a livid curse or two as I stalked off. Despite the fact that it was a long way I walked home, but the walk didn't really help relieve my tension or anger. I tossed and turned in my lonely bed, uncomfortably hard from what he'd done to me in that ally. I lay there cursing him out loud and in my head, taunting him really, knowing somehow that he could hear me.

After one particularly nasty comment he appeared in my room near the end of my bed. Hungrily my eyes devoured his all but naked form. He was only wearing a pair of tight black jeans that hugged his lean muscled legs and the inviting bulge between his legs. I could see a trail of tattoos that covered his whole left shoulder and down his bicep that were a mix of strange rune like symbols in a mix of red and black. His upper body was strangely hairless and firmly muscled. I could see the shadows around him were darker as if they were hiding more of his true form. In my heart of hearts, down as far as my soul, I think I knew what I was risking, what would happen if I gave up my will, my body, my soul to him, but I didn't care. There was that ripple of something shifting under his surface and his power swelled in the air. I wouldn't have been true to myself if I hadn't gone ahead and dared him anyway, tempting karma to come and get me.

"Oh so that brought you back again did it?" I sneered at him.

"You should watch what you ask for little boy." He sneered back at me.

"Why? It's not my fault we're in this fucked up state, is it?" I retorted hotly, glaring at him.

"I warned you." He purred flashing me that smile of his, his dimples flashing and then he was moving.

One moment he was standing at the foot of my bed, the next there was a blur of movement as he pulled down his fly and pushed down his jeans. Where I'd have had to struggle like a fool hopping on one foot to pull my own jeans off; he ripped his off in one easy movement. I was only given a moment to stare at his body, and at the long, heavy length of him before the air was being forced out of my lungs as he all but tore the sheet off me and pounced on me. His mouth fastened on mine and he was kissing me as his hands ran over me. Greedily I wrapped myself around him, tighter this time so he couldn't escape me and kissed him back. I sighed, barely giving him a chance as I let my greedy hands run over his hot skin, feeling up his muscles and testing my strength against him as we wrestled playfully.

He let me wrestle him underneath me and I sat up on his stomach, supporting myself by bracing my hands on his chest and pressing myself into his hands as they ran over me. It felt unbelievably good to have his hands on me and to feel him lying underneath me. The scent of him made me sneeze again something that caused his eyes to glitter with amusement. His skin was amazement to me, it was hairless, smooth and it had a pearly sheen to it in the darkness of the night.