Sleeping Beast Ch 12

REMINDER- I write long stories; some parts don't have naughty bits, but the parts that do will make more sense if you read the other parts, too. Lucky for you, THIS part has naughty bits. Please vote if you like it. Thanks for reading!

– o –

His most lurid, fanciful imagining couldn't have replicated the blinding pleasure of waking with his cock in Troi's mouth.

He'd known it was possible, of course– he'd even stumbled upon Talgut once, leaning against an outside wall with one of their captives kneeling between his feet. Mayhap it was even commonplace for other wealthy men, but neither Nivid nor Argus had ever felt the blissful warmth of a woman's mouth wrapped around his cock. They were already abusing their captives in so many unmentionable ways, neither of them wished to add another item to a woman's list of fears– or his own list of sins.

Despite the insurmountable objection, Argus had always been aroused by the concept, and it had contributed to more than a few of his solitary orgasms over the years. Nivid, while resigned to the necessity of copulating to meet the demands of the curse, didn't look forward to the act itself. Before Troi, he'd been accustomed to putting it off as long as possible. By the time he gave in, biological imperative left little room for fantasy. Nivid would close his eyes, block the bitter scent of his partner's disgust, and succumb to sensation.

So, the incredible feeling of his cock bursting into fertile spasms

in Troi's mouth

had been a first for both Denovas. Hours later, they were still fighting to set aside the memory in order to get on with the business of their day.

As usual, Talgut was bent low over his plate, too enamored of Troi's cooking to notice the unnatural stillness which settled over the table while the brothers' minds strayed again and again into irresistible memories of the morning.

– o –

Lowering her eyes to the chocolatey amber liquid, Troi hid her smirk behind a tilting sip of tea. She'd eaten already, soon after rising, and her mind was free to drift a different path toward the same destination that was currently turning her men into such poor companions.

This morning had gone nothing like she expected it to go. She'd been agonizing for days over a decision she knew she'd have to share with Nivid, and she'd awoken in the night to worry some more. It wouldn't help– her choices remained the same and she'd delayed as long as she was able– but she'd shifted restlessly in the pre-dawn light for what felt like hours, unhappily anticipating Nivid's reaction to her upcoming request. Somehow, even with anxiety chewing up her innards, she'd finally managed to go back to sleep. Mercifully, she'd tumbled straight into a delightful dream of the pleasures she'd found in Nivid's bed. She'd known that she was dreaming and, also, that slumber had replaced worry with wonder. She'd been grateful for the reprieve, and eventually, she'd drifted gently into her second awakening of the day, forgetting everything she'd meant to say.

She was smiling when she opened her eyes, the brown landscape of her lover's chest blurry until she blinked it into focus. Her fingers twitched of their own volition . . . Sight became memory and then sensation. Her little smile widened as her eyes began to roam. . . Nivid's skin changed subtly over the expanse of his chest, toughening and becoming dusted with the fur which trailed over his shoulders onto his back. It was one of many sensual discoveries he'd given her– a velvet coat over muscles shifting beneath her palms as he manhandled her into place . . . She'd first noticed that night she donned a transparent shift and Nivid took her by the guardroom fire. The formless stream of Troi's thoughts wound around wide shoulders and down to thick arms which bound her to him, night or day. That afternoon when they'd watched each other in the looking glass . . . the muscles of his chest bulging against her temple while he held her locked against his hip, and she watched his big hand close around the dark column of his cock . . .

In the pre-dawn light, she shivered, a tremulous breath stirring the fine fur sprinkled over Nivid's chest. Hot and spicy, his scent teased Troi while her sparkling eyes caressed his solid body. She was fully alert now, and excruciatingly conscious of air rushing into her lungs when her ribcage lifted. Her breasts were pressed against his side, but she felt the aching tingle of her nipples hardening between them, begging for a different kind of contact. She wanted him already.

Her lips twisted into a wry smile. She could hardly help it when she woke like this . . . her senses filled with him: his throbbing blood beneath her ear, his muscles bulky and warm beneath her hands, his unequivocally masculine aroma stabbing straight to her feminine core. She wanted to stretch and squirm and draw his attention, but held her body in check, closing her eyes to revel in the moment . . . her mind returned to their image in the looking glass . . . a crystalline drop of liquid had been glittering at the tip of Nivid's cock before a stroke of his palm slicked it over the dark, tightly swollen head. Troi's heartbeat skipped wildly ahead of the one thudding beneath her cheek.

Hearing . . . scent . . . sight . .

.

Troi's lungs seized, and her eyes flew open, flitting uselessly about the room as imagination provided both image and sensation. The tip of her tongue curled when her mind provided skin for her to lap, slick and shimmering with a coat of her lover's offering.

Hearing . . . scent . . . sensation . . .

How would that diamond drop of liquid

taste

?

She gulped air, dizzy with excitement and the shock of realization; she'd spent hours writhing in ecstasy while Nivid licked her pussy, but she'd never even considered taking him into her mouth.

With an airy gasp, shock gave way to shame, but it was whisked away a heartbeat later when reality injected a dash of humor: she was mindless, sightless, and deaf when Nivid's tongue was busy between her legs, she could hardly be blamed for a dearth of rational planning skills.

Hmmm.

Troi's lips rounded into a pucker as she analyzed her small and selfish lapse, her fingers slowly combing the curls on Nivid's chest.

Maybe, on some level, the lapse had been deliberate.

Her former master– and others before– had used her mouth to pleasure themselves at will, and Troi had found that violation even more appalling than the pain of a dry cock tearing its way into her unprepared channel. When she was raped that way, she could at least turn her head away and close her eyes, but when Troi's owner held her head in place to penetrate her mouth, there was no escape. Her nose and mouth were filled with HIM– the stab of his shaft invading her throat, the coarse hair of his legs scratching palms stretched tight and fingers arching away in futility, the stink of his body, the taste of his hateful, hated flesh– Troi's lips twisted into a pucker of disgust. Her ability to escape by freeing her mind had been utterly overcome, every single time, by that most basic desire of every living creature– to breathe. Rape stole her freedom of choice and took control of her body, but the oral rapes had taken control of her mind, too– they had stolen her

self.

She pushed the recollection away with a sniff of derision– it was worth no more– and her eyes narrowed as they ran down the lines of her lover's body. Those men were not here. That past was gone forever. Troi's expression softened. Her freedom had been returned to her by the giant beast who lay slumbering beside her. A lopsided smile appeared as determination blossomed once again into desire.

The smile widened as she drew the covers aside and wriggled her body into place. The last time she'd woken him with sex, Nivid had been nigh-on uncontrollable. She wasn't entirely sure he would have been able to restrain himself if she'd tried to stop him then– if he would even hear a refusal. Repressing a giggle, she settled her bottom onto her heels, giving herself the option to lift her head away should Nivid become too enthusiastic: she'd endured many things, but she did need to breathe once in a while.

The gentle surge of humor softened her eyes as she gazed down, though her body was a-tingle with dawning urgency. Kneeling between Nivid's thighs, she stripped her shift away. He liked seeing her body bared for him. With a tiny, unconscious tilt of her head, Troi paused, allowing herself to enjoy a small slice of a similar visual treat.

She couldn't say what she'd think if she were divested of emotion; by the time she'd gotten her first glimpse of Nivid, she'd been half in love with him already. After that first night, she'd never been able to see him as a beast. She was far more cognizant of the careful way he touched her body than the cruel contortions of the hands which brought her bliss. Even when her own needful gyrations made her bump her head against one of Nivid's bony, curving horns– which had happened more than once– she'd been more affected by the passionate sounds he'd been rumbling by her ear.

So, she doubted her impression of Nivid would resemble that of any other woman, but there were certain things she thought she'd notice even if she weren't in love.

He was big, that went without saying, but as her eyes roamed his sleeping body, it wasn't his size she found most striking: it was power. His legs were covered with dense, dark fur– they were the most-heavily furred part of his body– but the thick brown waves couldn't obscure the definition between the massive muscles of his thighs. When he walked, those same muscles flexed and shifted, inevitably drawing her eyes, which would then wander greedily over the bulky shapes hidden by his loincloth or– rarely– trousers. Also inevitably, her attention summoned Nivid's gaze. Five minutes after he caught her ogling him, they'd be naked, here, on his billowing feather mattress.

Her eyes went north.

His torso was broad, but in profile, his abdomen was flat and less deep than the chest which pillowed her head as they slept. From her current position alongside his thighs, the taut squares of muscles on Nivid's abdomen were plainly outlined by diffuse sunlight filtering through the lightly draped windows. With a seductive sweep of her lashes, Troi blinked back the lust which was sweeping her onward at such a startling pace.

His shoulders, his arms, his calves, even his neck– Nivid's whole body was packed with power. Perhaps that power was part of what she found so compelling about him: with it, he could protect their family, provide their food, kill an enemy, or send Troi screaming over heights her body had never known.

Her hips shifted as arousal dampened the hidden folds of female flesh, and her attention returned to the thick shaft resting at the apex of those powerful thighs. It was formidable even quiescent, as it was now– or scary, depending upon one's point of view. Troi's glance flicked downward. It was thicker than her wrist! She bit her lip– she was glad she hadn't known that before their first time!

She leaned in, studying her lover's body. In daylight, the subtle imperfections– Troi's smile claimed her whole face this time– of his cock were barely visible. She only noticed the irregularities because she knew they were there– oh, did she know! Nivid did, too: he used the the small ridges and bulges to prod her body relentlessly beyond its former limits. He'd shift and probe and study her reactions until he found a position which made her eyes widen, her breath catch in her throat, and her orgasm all the more overwhelming when it took over her body and her mind.

The heated expression faded as her eyes sharpened. She'd never done this willingly before, never done more than what the promise of pain could force from her. She licked her lips, her breasts rising and falling more rapidly as memory teased her with the feeling of Nivid's tongue rasping through her weeping cleft, wringing helpless cries from her throat as her blind, fumbling fingers clutched at anything within reach. Tossing the single braid back over her shoulder, Troi bent slowly toward Nivid's cock. Maybe she could make

him

feel

that

way.

– o –

For the tenth time, Argus caught himself sitting motionless, a biscuit hoovering halfway between mouth and plate. He didn't need to turn his head to know Nivid was in nearly the same position: it was the moisture of Nivid's steaming tea collecting on the tip of his sensitive bovine nose which brought Argus back to reality.

He discarded the half-eaten biscuit and reached for his tea, after the comforting aroma wafting from Nivid's pewter mug penetrated his senses. Nivid's nose– his senses. They sipped in unison, making one memory, not two. It was happening more and more often these days, since Troi insisted they share everything.

Everything.

Both mugs halted an inch above the table's surface.

Everything.

No words passed between them. Neither had the ability to express the thoughts in his head, if the formless miasma of sensation and shock could even earn the appellation "thought".

No words were necessary, in any case. They'd both been there.

In the same way Nivid had once dreamed his brother's mind waking in the body of another boy, this morning Argus had dreamt Nivid's waking moments. Only it wasn't a dream, as first he'd thought. Still, it made no difference . . .

Dream, experience, sleeping, waking, his, mine

: all were one. There was no possibility of discerning hoof nor hand, horn or head. What Troi had done eclipsed physical or philosophical barriers. There'd been no possibility of separating their minds at that moment, as there was no chance of dividing the memory now.

Nivid recalled nuzzling Troi, then turning his head to get comfortable– his horns were awkward sometimes– just before he drifted off to sleep. Argus had been reading, but couldn't remember putting his book down. Their next memory was being hurtled into consciousness by the electrifying sensations leading up to the most explosive, astonishing orgasm of his life. One minute, one memory, one woman.

For nearly as long as Nivid had been a beast, he'd been denied the hope of a woman coming willingly to his bed. Troi had changed that, but he'd never ceased to be surprised. Burying himself in Troi's small body, her arms and legs wound tightly round him as she whispered her desire: every second he spent with her was a miracle beyond belief. He never thought to wonder what else was possible.

Even Argus, who had fantasized about coming in a woman's mouth, hadn't dared to imagine it might be

Troi's.

She'd already done so much, changed so much, made their lives so much better; it wouldn't have occurred to them to ask for anything like that. But neither man had asked: they'd gone to sleep in different beds, separated by a hundred tons of granite, and woken to the incomprehensible, wet velvet ecstasy of Troi's mouth around his cock. He could only assume his sleeping mind was just as overwhelmed, because he was already approaching the final few moments of pleasure when they woke, his testicles swollen and straining, his oncoming climax a coil of pressure encasing his organs from ass to ribcage.

Adding to the mindless tumult: a hundred wrenching morsels of sensation: the satiny sweep of her hair brushing his inner thigh, the whisper of her exhalation cooling the saliva-coated skin exposed by her fingers as they hugged the base of his throbbing cock, that same slickness covering the tender sack Troi tugged and squeezed, her touch as gentle as it was arousing. And her mouth–

Khristos

! Her hot, wet, sucking, slavering, incredible mouth. He'd never imagined anything like it.

Twin thuds marked the final drop of mugs onto table, and two hearts beat more heavily as recollection consumed their thoughts.

Right then, he hadn't been capable of absorbing all the myriad bits which added to the ecstasy he'd felt, but one by one, memories exposed each component, the gentle flicks and kisses, silken fist around his shaft bumping her own lips as Troi's head dipped and lifted, the way her tongue circled at the top of every stroke, never losing contact with his skin. And

Khristos

, in those final seconds, the sound she made, the incredible vibrations of her throat and tongue as she hummed, like his yearning, fiery flesh was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. He arched, thrusting up, his ass a foot off the bed when the seed boiled from his balls, erupting from his cock with the force of God's own fist punching oceans and mountains from the earth. He came so hard it was a wonder he didn't lose consciousness.

Gasping and blinking in the wake of the most incredible orgasm of his life, he watched as Troi lapped every drop of cum from his cock. Then she slithered back into his arms and held him while he shook his way to sanity– giving him more than enough time to recover before she shocked him again— with words this time.

In his quiet bedchamber on the other side of the castle, Argus collapsed instantly into a dreamless heap of post-orgasmic bliss, while Nivid's mind began to spin. More than twenty years had gone by since they'd last woken into a single consciousness, unaware of any separation, but awe wasn't the first thing Nivid felt: it was anxiety. How could he possibly tell Troi that Argus had shared every iota of the intimate gift she'd given him, including the sensation of coming in her mouth?

Despite his dilemma–- and the fact he'd just experienced the most amazing, heart-stopping orgasm of his life– Nivid's cock twitched at the thought, eager to try again. His eyelids parted, and he glared down at it in disbelief.

It hadn't even been five minutes!

Wrenching his thoughts from the impractical aspirations of his body, he began trying to withdraw from Argus without waking his other half. He had to tell Troi . . . .

Before he completed thought or task, Troi made an astonishing declaration: she wanted them to stay together all the time. Nivid had been dumb with disbelief. Just a few months ago, she'd been appalled by the notion that Argus might be privy to the intimacies between them, and he'd expected her to meet his new confession with alarm, revulsion, and anger, if not outright horror. Instead, Troi herself was asking Nivid to deliberately leave himself open. All the time. Yet, she must know that "all the time" would include moments like the one which had just passed.

He'd been speechless– even more speechless than usual.

Eventually, Troi had given up on getting any meaningful response– he could sense her confusion, and also the comfort she found in his continued embrace– and rolled out of bed to start her day.

A jolt of the table beneath their elbows yanked Nivid and Argus from their reverie. They glanced up as Talgut looked in their direction, expressionless eyes dropping to their half-full plates. Their own attention followed: Argus wasn't eating much of late, but as Talgut's glance had noted, Nivid's breakfast should have been long gone. Gathering his waning powers of concentration– Argus' illness was affecting him, too– Nivid addressed his meal with new determination. It was past time for them to start the day's labors, too.

– o –

How did one go about catching a witch?

Troi's arms clasped protectively around the cloth-wrapped bundle at her chest, she trudged upward through the meadow. Ofsa and Ozu lagged behind, noses twitching as they kept a cautious eye on their surroundings instead of tumbling about like cubs as they often did. Troi was only dimly aware of their presence. The wolves, the smell of summer's approach on the warm spring breeze, the spongy new growth beneath the crinkling gold of last year's hay– all these things were a muted backdrop to the vibrant, vital questions at the center of her being.