WIP Wednesday - Clan and Commit

The games young men play...

Vax’s sleeping room was all about comfort, a warm embrace of soothing colors, soft furnishings, and low lighting. The sleeping mat wasn’t quite clan-size, but plenty big enough for Bacoj to envision rolling around on it with the Imdiko, their bodies entwined in the most intimate of embraces. Heat poured into his already rigid cocks.

               Yet, standing there next to the knee-high mat while Vax gazed up at him, wet lips parted, Bacoj was abruptly unsure of what to do. He was the Dramok, so it naturally fell to him to take the lead. Vax was an Imdiko, the gentlest breed of Kalquorian, ready to fulfill others’ needs. It should have been an easy situation to navigate.

               Emphasis on the should.

               Vax ran his hands over Bacoj’s chest, down his ribs, and up again. “Mmm, nice muscles. Nice everything. What does the strong, commanding Dramok desire?”

Strong? Commanding? Bacoj didn’t feel in possession of either of those qualities.

The categorization tests, taken by all Kalquorian males at the age of five, claimed leadership was Bacoj’s very nature. His birthright. Most of the time, he felt that was true. He was decisive when all the facts were at hand. Yet he became unsure when new circumstances were presented. This was one such situation. Bacoj had never fucked an Imdiko before.

He needed a few minutes to figure out how to handle someone who wouldn’t fight him for dominance. Playing for time, he said, “Let’s start with what’s off the table, Imdiko. Bondage, pain play, master and slave?”

“Hmm.” Vax’s touch slid up beneath his shirt, exploring. “Nothing too extreme. Definitely no blood. A little bruising is okay…would you like to spank me?” He abruptly turned his back to Bacoj. He pulled his trousers down to show off lovely, round buttocks.

Bacoj’s cocks jolted at the sight of such a gorgeous rump. At the idea of parting Vax’s cheeks and diving into the snug hole between them.

In a thick voice, Bacoj said, “A spanking. Yes, that ass definitely deserves a warmup. Clothes off. Give me a nice, long look at what I’ll fucking the sense out of. Then lay over my knees, naughty boy.”

“Yes, Dramok.” Vax’s clothes went flying, tossed to a nearby chair as Bacoj sat on the edge of the mat and watched.

Releasing Summer 2020

WIP Wednesday - Clan Beginnings: Clan and Commit

The cute bartender has a big, nasty problem...

Vax finished waiting on the other patron and checking on others. He strolled back to Bacoj. “Finish the food, or I’ll think you were lying about how good it is.”

In an instant, the worst of the darkness lifted again. Bacoj chuckled and had another bite. Whomever Vax was promised to, the food alone would make him a lucky bastard.

He said as much. Vax leaned toward him, settling his elbow on the bar. “Thanks. To be honest, I don’t—”

He froze. Vax straightened, his attention riveted on the bar’s entrance. Bacoj glanced over his shoulder to see what had chased the Imdiko’s cheerful mood away.

A man who unmistakably belonged to the warrior Nobek breed glared at Vax from the door. His demeanor was as fierce as any of his kind, but Bacoj immediately discerned there were a few unusual details about him.

He was as muscled as most Kalquorians, maybe even a touch more. Perhaps twenty years older than Bacoj, he was still a young man. Yet there was something debilitated about the Nobek. His face was gaunt, with deep shadows under his eyes. His hair, black as most of their kind, was thin and lusterless. There was a sense of great desperation that clung to him. The sort of desperation that had turned to a nasty disposition.

At that moment, that ugly nature was focused on Vax. Bacoj bristled at the unspoken threat.

“Who’s the asshole who wants a punch?” he asked.

Releasing Summer 2020.

WIP Wednesday: Clan and Commmit

The first meeting of Bacoj and Vax

               Dramok Bacoj sat at the bar. He stared into his drink, unmindful of what was going on around him. Not that much happened at a place like Solet Tavern. It was a lowkey neighborhood spot where the locals came in after their shifts to either unwind or get quietly drunk. Bacoj fit neither description, but since he wasn’t in the mood for a rowdy club, Solet fit his needs perfectly.

               He contemplated his glass of amber kloq, vaguely aware of the background clink of glasses, hum of conversation, and low occasional laughter. The bar itself was an old wooden slab, showing the scars of glass rings from decades—maybe centuries—of service.

               His com sat next to his sweating glass, probably too close, despite its moisture-protective casing. No one was on the line. The holographic vid screen was off, and it would remain so as long as he could stand it. He’d made the dumb move of switching the com off with the text message program enabled. The instant he turned it on again, he’d see the two messages queued up, the messages that had come in within minutes of each other. He’d read the first over and over, memorizing it. Though he’d not done the same with the second, it was burned in his mind as well.

               My life is shit.

               His pity party was abruptly interrupted by a tray of small finger foods, carefully shoved between his com and glass. Startled, Bacoj jerked his head up. His eyes met those of a young man with a gentle smile.

               “You’ve been here long enough to have missed your evening meal. Put something besides kloq in your stomach,” the bartender said.

“I haven’t drunk that much.” Bacoj sized him up. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, close to Bacoj’s age. That soft, compassionate expression could only belong to a member of the nurturing Imdiko breed. Ancestors, what a sweet face. Handsome too.

“I noticed you’ve been nursing that glass for the last hour. Impressive since your expression tells me you’d love to drink yourself into oblivion.”

“The trouble with kloq-induced oblivion is that you have to return from it at some point.” Despite his depression, Bacoj couldn’t help but smile at the other man. Definitely a face to turn heads. Maybe his jaw was a tad too chiseled and his lips too thin to claim perfection, but he’d missed it by just an inch. Were his waves of black hair as soft as they appeared? The urge to find out was close to irresistible.

“Are things really that bad?” Cutie Imdiko tilted his head, regarding Bacoj as if no one else in the world mattered.

"Bad enough."

Releasing this summer.