The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 34

Daire woke Niall up with a hot, skillful blowjob and then fūcked him rather gently, even tenderly. When he wanted to, Daire Mac Cormac knew how to be a good lover. Niall had always suspected this, even though he had only slept with Daire once before and while completely wasted. But all the hunters adored their lord, and fought over the right to be in his bed. And they did fight for that, literally, even with real weapons, as Niall himself had witnessed on a couple of occasions. He'd assumed then that foolish mortals simply considered it an honor to share the bed of an Elemental Lord. For Niall's favor they did also fight, such were the ways of Ath Luain Castle under Daire Mac Cormac.

The funny thing was, only a hundred years ago Daire was the Steward of the North and lord of Sliabh Mis Castle. But the short-lived mortals, Niall's subjects, did not retain any stories from that time, not even gossip or fairy tales. Only once did he hear a mother shushing a screaming child, "Shut up, or I'll give you to Daire Mac Cormac!" as he rode down the village street. Niall laughed out loud then. Now he wasn't laughing at all.

No, serving under Daire turned out not as terrible as he'd imagined after the first night. But only because Niall had learned his lesson and was no longer defiant. Nor was he too submissive, because his pride prevented it, though his mind suggested that defiance and cheeky answers would only incite Daire's lust. But resistance was of little use. Daire didn't take him by force again, but he never hesitated to remind Niall of his oath, to threaten him with public flogging, as a defiant slave ... or he could simply arouse him with a spell, so that Niall groaned and writhed with the onslaught of overwhelming lust.

The spell of lust that Cumal had taught him was not strictly rape. But Daire's spell was. If Niall had his magical power still, he would not have been so susceptible. But, stripped of the protection of his element, he was helpless. The primitive, animal lust Daire had ignited in him was deafening, blinding, and stunning his whole body with painful spasms. A real torture: knowing what Daire Mac Cormac had done to you, hating him for that, hating yourself, hating everything that was going on, and yet opening your legs for him.

"I wish you'd kept raping me," Niall said one day, trying to catch his breath after another bout of rough sex.

"Why would I bother," Daire snorted, lying down next to him. The asshole was not tired at all. "Pour me some wine."

Niall was extremely annoyed with those bossy orders. Although Daire had appointed him to be exactly his cupbearer and gave him no other orders except to wipe him with a wet rag, give him his clothes or lace up his boots. Yes, Niall hated taking off and putting on his boots, too.

He poured the wine and handed the cup to Daire, after insolently taking a sip himself.

Daire drained it in one gulp and handed it back, his other hand on Niall's ass. The Lord of Forest's dark-brown hands, the color of tree bark, looked so strange against the Lord of Lightning's white skin.

"Had you still got your magic, it would've been interesting to have a scuffle," Daire said. "But now you flutter about like a bird, unable to land a single punch. Much more interesting is watching you fight yourself."

Niall turned away and poured the wine into the cup so that Daire could not see that his mocking words stung.

He searched his mind for an answer, smiled, and said with heavy sarcasm, "So much strength, so much magical power you have, Keeper of the North Daire Mac Cormac. But making me want you is beyond your abilities. You do realize I would never share your bed willingly, don't you? Never have and never will." He handed Daire the cup, bowed, and added with a sneer, "Master."

Daire took another gulp of wine, tossed the cup on the table, and toppled Niall onto the bed.

Niall braced himself for another bout of rough sex; even spread his legs obediently to avoid his thighs being bruised by Daire's strong fingers. Daire sat down between his legs, squeezed his wrists with one of his big hands and lifted them over Niall's head. His other hand began caressing his testicles, his cock, his inner thighs. Niall shuddered and clenched his teeth. It felt unexpectedly good. Damn Daire knew exactly what to do in bed, even if he didn't always want to bother. This time he used no spells, only primitive physical means, and very soon Niall was panting heavily, arching his back, raising his hips, and thrusting into his palm.

"What did you prove by this?" he said through his clenched teeth. "I'm still not going to ask you to fūck me."

"You don't have to ask." Daire smirked, lifted Niall's leg over his shoulder and pressed against his ass. "I've wanted you for too long, you arrogant son of Nechtan, who thinks he's better than all the other lords of the Tuatha De Danann. I am not finicky; it is enough for me that you spread your legs for me by promise rather than by goodwill. I don't need your heart, your ass is enough."

Niall wanted to respond with something smart and couldn't, broking off into a moan as Daire squeezed himself inside and began to fūck him.

The days of his service under Daire went by, generally uncomplicated and by no means hard. That's was the hardest part: his body didn't belong to him. In the early days, Daire wouldn't even let him get dressed and never let him step one foot out of the bedroom. When they weren't fūcking, Daire would hold Niall in his arms or put him in his lap. He even slept embracing Niall tightly. Often Niall woke up to Daire's cock being shoved in his ass, or to his own cock being trapped in Daire's big mouth. Oh, Lugh, Nuada and Dagda, Daire really didn't get off him for the first few days. Sometimes it seemed to Niall that he had forgotten what other uses his mouth and ass had besides pleasuring the insatiable Daire Mac Cormac.

Sometimes his fingers would find the hidden clasp of the collar, but each time they'd stop short. What good his concealed blade would be! Daire wouldn't be affected by the paralyzing poison, and Niall couldn't seriously wound him without magic. Daire was too good a warrior, probably the best among the Tuatha Dé since Niall's and Cumal's fathers died.

Still, the thought that he had a weapon on him for emergencies was comforting. And Daire Mac Cormac was the most important, but by no means the only danger to "Finn the slave" in Ath Luain.

Daire wouldn't be himself if he didn't want to show his new acquisition around. He had no intention of keeping Niall locked up for the whole three weeks, and so on the third day he'd dragged him out to a feast for his hunters.

It was the first time in three days he'd let Niall get dressed! But it was hardly some real clothes, only a traditional white tunic of Ath Luain's servants. It was not sewn on laced on the sides, only tied around the waist with a belt. Niall was taller and broader than the mortal youths, especially those selected as servants rather than hunters. The tunic was indecently short on him, and so tight that his hips peeped out through the slits.

Niall sulked and prepared to say everything he thought of the master, who had nothing but cast-off rags for his new slave. He could have had a new tunic made to fit! But Daire had put on him a beautiful wide belt, embroidered with pearls, which more or less held the tunic in place, and Niall resigned himself. He also tolerated in silence the fact that Daire had adorned him with bronze bracelets, not only on his wrists, but on his ankles as well. The bracelets were of skillful workmanship, but heavy, wide, and unpleasantly reminiscent of shackles. This outfit made Niall look exactly as Daire seemed to have planned: like an expensive and valuable bed slave.