Homelands: Autumn
Part Two
Chapter One
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Part Two picks up where Part One left off. Be advised that if you haven't read Part One, the story may be quite difficult to follow.
This is primarily an incest story, but it is also sci-fi/fantasy, and supernatural elements are not incidental to the plot. Additionally, most chapters will feature elements of other categories, particularly group sex and anal.
All characters are over eighteen. All acts are consensual.
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Silas' costume parties were not your typical costume parties. The men who'd come as centaurs had physically transformed so that they actually had the lower body of a horse. Women who came as angels had feathery white wings and halos, while the devils had leathery black wings, horns, and tails. I saw at least one genie whose body seemed to be made of nothing but smoke from mid-thigh down. To be sure, some of the guests wore more conventional attire, but even they were far from ordinary looking. If you took any single one of the guests and placed them in a mortal party, they'd absolutely steal the show.
I hardly spoke to anyone. But then, there wasn't a lot of conversation taking place. Everywhere I looked, there were threesomes, foursomes, and moresomes.
The air rang with the music of sex. Grunts, moans, sighs, and muttered curses. Skin slapping against skin and telltale slurping sounds. I drew a deep breath and the sweet yet pungent stench of perfume, sweat and various other bodily secretions filled my nostrils.
It wasn't with any of my five natural senses that I realized just how unusual the party was, though. The world around me hummed. Just walking about, taking it all in, I felt my Libido quiver. Once, when I walked too close to a cluster of carnality, a blue bolt of sexual energy would jump off one of them, arcing across the empty air to strike my bare skin. I'd experienced the electric ecstasy before, but only up close, from a partner who I'd assumed had done it on purpose. I'd never seen it randomly strike out at passerby like that. Their frenzied efforts could almost lead one to experience a contact climax the way one could get high simply by being in a room where other people were smoking up.
For a time, I contented myself with that vicarious pleasure, because I couldn't help but feel like that cartoon coyote when he ran off a cliff but didn't fall until he looked down.
I had no business being invited to this party. Silas had yet to grant my request for asylum. And he had plenty of loyal subjects who went their entire lives without ever attending one of these things. Mostly minor nobles, sure, but I was in no better standing than they.
"Hey there," a soft voice called from the shadows under one of the arched doorways that led back into the palace. "Fireman."
I walked across the courtyard towards the voice, adjusting my suspender straps. The entirety of my costume consisted of them, a pair of black silk boxers with flames emblazoned on them, thick boots, and the characteristic helmet.
When I was a half dozen paces from the doorway, one of the women in the nearest mound of flesh peeled herself away, stood up, and reached out to take my hand.
From the shadows, I heard the rumbling growl of what had to be the largest wolf the world had ever seen. It snapped its jaws, and I felt the reverberations in my bones.
The naked woman who'd reached for my hand pulled back, shoulders hunched, and after a few cautious steps, turned about and hurriedly walked away.
Had I thought the air charged with sexual energy a moment ago? For the briefest instant, I felt nothing but a slight autumn chill, smelled nothing but the rank stench of sweat and dead, rotting leaves underfoot. My Libido went cold.
"Sorry," the voice said, sounding soft once more. "I saw you first."
I forced a chuckle.
But the woman who stepped out into the night took my breath away, and I almost forgot about that haunting growl. Just like that, I was under the spell once more.
Her skin was the lightest blue, her hair dark indigo. The difference in shade made for almost as deep a contrast as with women who had very fair skin and black hair, like my mother. That was a look that had always held great appeal for me. This woman's coloration was like an exotic take on a familiar favorite.
Her full lips were purple. Her big, round eyes were the same color, and so bright they almost seemed to give off their own light.
For just a moment, I wondered how I hadn't noticed them when she'd been standing under the arch. Then they dimmed and they were ordinary eyes once more. Well, not ordinary. I didn't know many women with purple irises. But they no longer emitted light.
She had a delicate bone structure, with a thin nose, high cheekbones, and sharp chin. Her lashes were long and full. Amethysts dangled from her ears, set in intricate silver. They were the same color as her lips and eyes.
My eyes made their way down past her neck. She had an extreme hourglass figure. A waist so small that I was sure that if I wrapped my hands around it, I could touch my thumbs together beneath her navel while pressing the tips of my other fingers together above her tailbone. Despite that tiny waist, she had breasts larger than cantaloupes, broad hips, and full, shapely thighs. My cousin was one of the only women I'd ever met who could claim the honor of a waist that small, and she certainly didn't have curves like that.
The exotic beauty wore a loose-fitting black camisole, black panties, and a string of purple beads tied around her waist. A few additional strings of beads clacked about her thighs. I guess they were meant to be a skirt, but they didn't cover much. Her bare thighs would scarcely have been any more exposed if she hadn't bothered with anything between waist and ankles save her panties. Her pretty little feet were adorned by purple crystal heels.
The heels were easily six inches tall. If I hadn't augmented my height, she'd have stood a good two or three inches taller than me.
The woman held her hand out and said, "I'm Lily."
"Frank," I said. "A pleasure to meet you, Lily." I kissed her hand.
"You're new around here."
"Yeah. Refugee. From the Third Autumnal Court. Hoping to be granted asylum."
She planted one hand on a hip, and raised a cocktail glass that hadn't existed a moment ago to her lips. The liquid inside might have been some kind of wine, but if so, it wasn't one I'd ever seen. Neither white nor red, it was light blue. "So if you haven't even been granted asylum yet, how'd you get invited to one of these little shindigs?"
I offered a faint shrug. "His majesty sent me to live with this family. Suspected the father of plotting against him. Turned out he was, and his wife and daughter either were too or simply weren't going to let him go without a fight. They seduced me, cuffed me, and, well, I don't know what they planned to do from there, but it wasn't fuck me, and it didn't look likely to be pretty." I paused, remembering what it had been like to Devour two women at once. And to smash the father's face into a bloody pulp with one punch when he came home. I'd never considered that our powers could just as well be used for something like that. And would prefer never to have to do so again. "The story doesn't end well for them." Or for me. Nominally, at least, I'd Devoured those two women in self defense. Or at least under circumstances that led me to fear for my life, correctly or not. But since then, I'd thought more than once about doing so just for the rush. I'd nearly retched each time the thought came to me, but the fact that I had at all made me rather uncomfortable. "Our majesty was rather pleased with the outcome though."
"But not pleased enough to grant you asylum?"
"I'm to go live with another family of suspected dissidents," I said.
She studied my face, presumably looking for a reaction. Finding none, she said, "Maybe you've proven yourself too useful?"
"That's a terrible thing to say. I'm sure his majesty intends to grant my request once I've adequately addressed his legitimate concerns."
She laughed, laying a hand gently on my upper arm. "I get it. Don't worry, he's plenty preoccupied just now. Can't imagine he's eavesdropping on any conversations."
I scanned the courtyard as if looking for someone more interesting to talk to. Not that I was. But I thought it might be useful if she thought so.
Her Libido first receded then swelled. She reached out, took my hand, and, without waiting for a reaction, led me inside the palace. "I could feel you from across the garden, you know. You weren't one of the minor nobles in the Third Court. One of the big families. What is it, the Orwins and the Farriers?"
"My mother is an Orwin, my father a Farrier," I said. "Where are we headed?"
"Have you ever been with a moonlit woman?" she asked.
"Not yet, no," I admitted. For that matter, I was only pretty sure that when she referred to herself as moonlit, she meant that she was from the Shadowed Glade of the Moon.
