Kasyn, the Spunk-Prince

Kasyn found the young priest Elisha in a dimly-lit kitchen on the atrium level, looking around for a snack. He pulled the Elisha into a dark store room and pressed him against a stack of bags of flour and rice and pressed his lips to Elisha’s. The Cthulhist lad accepted the kiss and he responded, pressing his tongue against Kasyn’s and into Kasyn’s mouth. “Are you horny right now?” asked Kasyn.

Elisha gasped against Kasyn’s mouth. “Of course, brother. Always!”

“Good! If I wanted you to fuck my ass, would you do it?”

“Are you kidding?” Elisha laughed. “I could not say no. My fucking cock wouldn’t allow it.”

Kasyn beamed. “Okay, so listen: you are not going to fuck me right now…but, check out this shit: there are three dudes here in the palace who are basically copies of me. Do you like the look of this?” Kasyn lowered his shorts and turned his bare ass briefly to Elisha. Next he pulled down his jock pouch and let his fat dong rise hard toward Elisha. “Nice, right?”

“Why are you torturing me, Prince Kasyn! Can I fuck you or not?”

Kasyn pulled Elisha close again. “You can later—and all you want—but first you have to do something else for me, and you are going to fucking love it. Because you are going to fuck three of my sons and they all have basically my same ass and cock and everything else. So if you think I’m hot, you’re gonna be fucking blown away when you see them.”

“Okay, but why? Why is it so necessary? I feel like there is a catch coming.”

Kasyn smiled. “Have you heard about my stepson Naxon and how he has been sexually modified in a very unusual way? How he has the genital configuration now of the fabled maphs of Venus? How he has all the normal boy parts but that he also has a vagina in his crotch. And a womb…well, somewhere up in his guts? I don’t have all the details on it.”

“Are you saying…”

“Yes! My eldest sons are very much like Naxon. But weirder. Surely you have heard how they were born not that long ago from Kyler’s daughters and they somehow grew to maturity in days?” Elisha nodded (not mentioning that he had seen them himself shortly after their birth) and Kasyn continued: “They insist that they must be knocked up or they may literally die from some kind of crazy ‘blood fever.’ That’s why I need you. If I had normal sperm that makes normal babies, I’d probably just nail them myself  to give them what they need, but the reason that they are so unusual has to do with something strange in my sperm, and we are trying not to make any more boys like that for the moment until we understand this better.”

Elisha felt a moment of disconnection from events, as if he were observing someone else having this interaction. But he pulled himself back and said, “You seriously want me to impregnate your sons? Why me?”

“You have Jaustin Moss’s original balls in your sack, and while they have been enhanced for maximum output, they are still just normal nuts that make standard-issue sperm, not freaky-deaky aethereal poltergeist sperm, or whatever the fuck I have now. I don’t know what their pups will be like after you seed my boys with Jaustin’s juice, but they can’t possibly be any weirder than these guys!”

Elisha frowned. “It seems somewhat unethical: I’d be making the decision to use another man’s seed to get these boys pregnant, and Jaustin would have no knowledge of it nor any say in it.”

“Seriously, brother?” Kasyn frowned at Elisha. “As if you really care!’

“I actually don’t care at all. I’m just so fucking horny. Fine! I’ll do it.”

“Good, let’s go. I have this for you, too.” He withdrew a hypospray from his pocket.

“What’s that for?”

“A little cocktail of Erec-T and Juic-E. We’ll juice your nuts with it if you need a little help with the second or third fuck. We need this to work. By the time you’re done, I need all three of those boys to be pregnant.”

“I doubt I’ll need it. I can make a few loads in a reasonable amount of time. But, okay.” But then this occurred to him: “Why don’t they just, you know, do each other? If they have cocks and sperm like regular boys, can’t they just knock each other up if they’re so desperate to get pregged?”

Kasyn shook his head. “They say it doesn’t work that way. They need seed from a regular dude. Also, think about it: they are half-brothers. It’s why Kyler picked me up in the first place because some witchy prophecy said I was needed to breed his daughters. It was the very first thing I did when I got here. But they’re still brothers and they probably shouldn’t father each other’s children anyway. I mean, I am totally cool with the dad/son or brother/brother fucking thing for fun that is standard daily business around here, and I might even do this thing to them under other circumstances, but it’s probably better to get some other genes into this weird pool, right?”

“Makes sense,” said Elisha, still rather stunned by the turns his life had taken in recent days.

From Kyler’s journal…

After some reportedly harrowing driving, by Ian, of a giant moving van all the way from the Inner Village to the compound, Ian was ready to meet with me in my study. He brought with him Blue Radical, the subject of his mission into the city. I’d not seen Blue in person since the day I’d bought Kasyn from him. He’d always been a slight man, almost willowy, and rather too thin, but now he looked as if he might disintegrate into dust like the sun-fried corpse of a vampire at the slightest blow or breeze. Jittery, he took a seat on a chaise. I gave him a warm mug of jasoom maté to steady his hands.

“I gather,” I said, “given the size of that van, that you brought along a great deal of your belongings.”

“I could not risk my work falling into the hands of the Inquisition or whoever is after us.” Blue Radical took a deep gulp of the numbing brew. “Also, I have what you asked for: some options for replacing Jaustin Moss’s nuts with something less dangerous than the Kasyn-clones. We should probably do that immediately. Or at least very soon.”

“You haven’t told him?” I looked at Ian.

He blushed and said, “I started to, but we were interrupted by…traffic conditions.”

“A squad of dirty boys,” said Blue, “wanted to inspect our van’s cargo. It was only when their leader accepted Ian’s credentials as your man that we were allowed to pass!”

Blue glanced back and forth between me and Ian. “Told me what?”

Ian sighed. “Jaustin Moss is not here at the moment. He snuck away in the night. We have a theory as to where he is headed. We will bring him back. We’re on it.”

“Where did he go?”

Ian looked at me and I nodded my assent that he may reveal the rest of what we know. “He somehow got a berth on a blockade-runner, a cargo clipper called Aether’s Arrow. It’s a super-light fast-ship, designed to sail right through the Holy Picket.” For the last three centuries the Church had been trying and failing to interdict the black market drug trade from Earth to Mars and Venus. Their ancient, shuddering, creaking, barely-aether-worthy dreadnoughts were easily eluded by boats like Aether’s Arrow. A drug ship like that was also the very fastest possible way to get from here to Mars.

“So he was in a hurry!” Blue Radical laughed and accepted a refill of his drink. “But why Mars? What’s there for him?”

“What we know,” said Ian, “is known by very few people on Earth. Before I tell you more, I need to know that we can trust you with this top secret information.”

Blue Radical slurped at his drink, lit a smoke and chuckled. “Of course you can!”

Ian reddened through his cheeks and brow and glared at the skeletal man. “This is no joke, Blue. Before I tell you the rest of this, you will swear on Prince Kyler’s life that you will keep this secret! I’m not fucking around! Swear it now or this conversation is over!”

Started, Blue Radical gasped. And then he said softly, “I so swear it. On the Prince’s life!”

“Continue,” I said, nodding at Ian.

“This is what we know: a new Emperor is about to be proclaimed in the Core Kasei.”

“A new Emperor!” Blue appeared genuinely stunned. “After all these centuries?”

“Yes.” Ian reached for a wine bottle and refilled his glass. “A young man has solved the Priapic Configuration on his first attempt. You may know that many of those who try and fail their first attempt stop right there because the second attempt—if botched—is fatal. Yet there have been no shortage of callow boys with more cum in their crotches than brains in their heads who have died on that second attempt. But this one—the successor—solved it in his first attempt and he has already placed the Osmium Crown on his head, but for some reason he and his coterie are keeping it a secret for now.”

Blue leaned forward, interested and less jittery. “Who is this young man?”

“They call him Jade-Mothra, and he is not a Terran like most of the past Emperors. He is a Martian, but of a sub-species largely unknown even on Mars. They have kept to the last desert quarters of their planet for centuries, rarely venturing into the cities. They look like the human boys of Mars for the most part, but they have wings, great feathered second sets of arms that they can extend from their shoulder blades, and it is even thought that they can fly under their own power.”

Blue gaped. “The Spunk-Angels of Mars!” he cried.

“The what?” wondered Ian.

“An old legend,” I said. “Stories of a winged race of extremely libidinal boys living in the cave warrens of the desert quarters. Rather like the arboreal maphs of Venus: more fable and legend than reality. Some who claimed to have been among them called them ‘spunk-angels’ because of their wings and their intense sex drives.”

“I had not heard that term,” Ian said, “but I can assure you that these creatures are not a legend. They are quite real, and a horde of them are currently occupying the Imperial Keep in the Core Kasei.”

Blue Radical shook his head, as if to clear it. “But I still don’t get what that has to do with Jaustin Moss. Why does he want to get there?”

“We believe,” I said, “that he saw some very exciting information about these so-called angels. They have somehow evolved a new reproductive ability that will allow them to breed at a much faster rate. I think that Jaustin wants to fuck the new Emperor or some of those in his immediate circle.”

“But why!” Blue Radical gulped from his mug.

“Perhaps a drive that he feels from his mutant balls—from those copies of Kasyn’s preternatural nuts in his sack. If he can somehow make himself a mate or concubine of the Emperor and perhaps sire an heir upon him, it will make him invincible against the machinations of the Church. I offered him every bit of the protection he needed here with me, but evidently he found the promise of Mars too great a pull to resist.”

Said Ian, “He as also aware of the tightening noose of the Chaos Ejaculatum around here, most particularly now that the Pope is in town.”

Ian had a question, one that he’d obviously been stewing over: “This is perhaps off-topic, Kyler, but I really need to know what the fuck is going on with something. This ‘Apparatus Priapus’ that has beset the city but which seems to be working for you. What’s going on?”

I saw Blue Radical sink back into his chair, knowing what I was about to say. “They’re  sort of a sleeper cell, spread by my semen.” Ian sat still, said nothing, and I continued: “Consider that I fuck pretty much every courier and delivery boy and grotto catamite the gets into this compound. There have been thousands of them over the years, all of them leaving with a whack of my spunk in their mouths or asses. Perhaps Blue will want to elaborate. He created the virus.”

Blue Radical lifted a hand and extended a middle finger. “This is not what was intended when I created it!”

“It’s why,” I said, “that Blue and Doctor Phibes became enemies.”

“All I wanted to do,” said Radical, his tone rising, “was to protect Kyler—a prince with no real protection when he was young—by perhaps spreading among the fighting-age boys of the city an inclination to love Kyler by way of a mild contagion that would do its thing and then time out after a decade or so. Think about it: he fucks a courier here in this room. That boy goes home and fucks his boyfriend. Both of them fuck some other boys. See how fast it can spread?”

Ian gaped. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“But it was mostly harmless,” said Blue Radical. “And repeated exposure lessens its effect, as if it’s its own vaccine. One shot gives it to you; five shots cures it. Which is why you, Ian, and Kyler’s own sons aren’t activated by it. It was  that dirty dealer Phibes who weaponized it! Behind my back, he took my creation to another gene hacker and they created this sleeper-cell contagion.” Blue Radical looked to me, sad-eyed. He added, “And Kyler decided it was time to activate it.”

“I did not make the decision lightly. I never imagined I’d really do it. And I still can’t believe that it actually worked.”

Ian sat there and said nothing, probably wondering what the point of his entire job as my security chief was now that he knew that I’d withheld this information from him for all these years. If he had offered his resignation right then, I would not have been surprised.

Blue Radical fidgeted in his seat. “Anyway, this is all very weird and interesting, but I must ask what I am to do about Blue Junior! I have no idea where he is!”

I nodded and poured him a refill. “Worry not, old friend. I know where he is. He is safe from the Chaos, but he is still in some jeopardy. But nothing life-threatening. I’ll get him back to you as soon as possible.”

Elisha meets Kasyn’s sons…

Anticipation made Elisha’s prick so stiff that it almost pained him the way it was bound inside his jock-pouch, the way that pouch’s sheer fabric was soaked through with pre-jac. Following closely behind Kasyn, climbing the last run of stairs to the three son’s chambers—where he’d been told the three boys shared just one bed and one bathroom—Elisha thought, I can’t believe this, that he is bringing me up here to be a literal stud, to purposely breed his sons!

The narrow stairs ended at an old-style clear-plaz door which had hanging inside it a translucent purple blind. Elisha thought he could see movement just beyond it. Kasyn opened the door and entered, Elisha right behind him. My god! That aroma! The scent of the room was in part the incense and narcowhirl smoke that pervades many of the living quarters of this compound, but nearly overwhelming were the sex-scents of rutting lads, that sweet stench of pit-sweat and spilled boyjuice drying on satin sheets and fresh male pheromones, but this was a bit different even than that. They have vaginas, Elisha remembered. 

“He’s pretty!” said one young man, who lounged on a window ledge, his bare ass on the wide tile, his naked legs splayed, one hand holding a cigarette smoldering between his thighs. They do look like just like him! Elisha quickly compared them to Kasyn. They weren’t exact copies of their father, and nor were they identical triplets, but the differences among the four of them were so slight as to be unimportant. They all had their father’s high brow and thick tousled hair and black eyebrows and long lashes; his chin dimple and his slightly upturned nose and slightly too-large ears, and, most obviously, his huge shiny eyes. Except theirs unnerved him with their propensity to shift their tone from black to white to silver. Am I imagining this? He stepped deeper into the boy-stinking bed chamber.

“Who is he, Father?” another said.

“He’s a hot sperm machine.” Kasyn winked at Elisha. “A fucking jizz-fountain. He’s going to fill you all up right now.” He slid two fingers between Elisha’s belly and his waistband and tugged at his jock. “They’re ready for you, boy.”

Fuck! I might bust a load before I even stick it in the first one! He stripped hurriedly, shedding first his vest—“Such pretty skin!” one of the boys said, admiring Elisha’s skin art—then his shorts and, at last, his damp and too-tight jock. “Um, who’s first?”

The two youths on the bed laughed and spread their knees and pressed fingers into their snatches. The one on the window ledge moved to a leather-clad bench and lay on his back.

“Take him first. Right there on the bench.” Kasyn said. “His name is Dath.” The boys on the bed howled in protest. “Shut it, you two! You’ll get your turn. And Elisha will have plenty of juice for you.”

Though these lads’ formal consent did not much matter since their father had ordered this fucking, Elisha still said softly, close to Dath’s mouth as he got into position, his knees between the boy’s legs, “You are sure you want this?”

“I am sure that I need it!”

With a finger, Elisha found Dath’s slick opening, the hot wet lips of his vaj hidden behind his heavy sack. He inserted his middle finger to the second knuckle, felt the hidden clit-nub inside, and the Dath moaned. Elisha withdrew the finger and replaced it with his meat, and Dath cried out loudly: “That feels so fucking good!”

Elisha thrusted a few times, slowly, and it felt like his cock was being sheathed in a hot clenching glove. The boy beneath him, speared on his dick, radiated a corona of incredible body heat. He’s feverish! This blood fever that Kasyn mentioned! And then he noticed the shine of Dath’s skin, every inch of it erupted in sweat, dripping off his brow, soaking his thick tousle of dark hair. He needs my sperm. I need to give it to him. Am I torturing him by taking my time? By enjoying his body too much?

Kasyn interrupted: “Here. Let’s change your position. Dath will love it.”

With Kasyn guiding him and Dath knowing Kasyn’s intent, Elisha too the position on his back on the bench, and Dath standing astride it, lowered his dripping pussy back over Elisha’s dong. Elisha grunted and willed himself back from the precipice of orgasm, determined to deny Dath his sperm for just a couple more minutes.

Elisha, eyes closed, focused on not cumming quite yet, felt Dath bounce on his pole and then he felt something else. What’s he doing? Kasyn had maneuvered himself into place behind his son. Elisha felt the pressure of another rod against his own. Kasyn had inserted his cock into Dath’s asshole, shorts still on, his dick out through the fly. “It’s safe!” he said. “I can put it in their asses, just not their other holes!”

“So unfair!” said one of the other boys. “Dath has both of them now!” They jumped off their bed and padded over to the fuck bench. The one named Koth faced Dath, spread his knees and lowered his body a bit, dropping his ballsack onto Elisha’s mouth. The priest licked the lad’s shave-stubbly tight sack, a sack that barely contained Koth’s fat balls. 

Elisha could not hold in his spunk another moment. He spasmed into climax and pushed upward hard, making sure certain that every inch of his steel-swollen wang was  inside Dath’s tight and wet slot. “He’s cumming, Daddy!” Dath gasped and Kasyn replied that he was about to as well. Elisha continued to shudder out his slick, thick white fuck into Dath’s box, and Kasyn withdrew, dick hanging through his fly, and he grabbed Seth by the shoulders and forced him back onto the bed. Straddling Seth between his knees, Kasyn said, “Eyes open, boy!” and he jetted jizz, momentarily cum-blinding his son, slopping his fuck-slime over Seth’s nose and chin and neck. “Open up! I think I have some more!” Kasyn pressed his prick against Seth’s full dark lips. He slid the crown of his cock into his son’s mouth and  let out another spurt and a few final dribbles of spunk. He rolled off the boy and lay on the bed next to him, gasping. 

Seth wiped some of Kasyn’s goo from his face and, grinning, reached for his crotch, but Kasyn batted that hand away. “No way! Not until you are knocked up! Elisha! It’s Seth’s turn! Nail him now before gets any of my juice in his pussy!”

Elisha climbed onto the bed with Seth and Kasyn. His prick was still stiff and still dribbling semen post-Dath. But, “I might need a minute to recharge!”

“No you don’t.” Kasyn grabbed the hypo out of his pocket with one hand and Elisha’s ballsack with the other and injected the priests nuts one at a time.

“Oh fuck!” Elisha cried. He’d never actually used this cocktail of Erec-T and Juice-E before and he was startled at how instantly it took effect, swelling his dong back to full erection, making his nuts ache as if it had been days since he’d last unloaded his juice. On hands and knees, Seth beneath him, he arched over his next fuck and stabbed him in the cunt with his cock. Seth cooed, overjoyed and his dick squirted a spray of spunk onto his belly.

Elisha boned a little harder and faster, enjoying Seth’s enthusiasm and his pretty face still spattered with Kasyn’s juice. Koth approached the bed, getting ready for his own turn. Elisha felt the third son behind him and then felt a new thrill between his thighs. Koth’s tongue pressed into Elisha’s ass-pucker and then swabbed his crotch with spit. “I can taste my brothers on your taint!” This ass-licking was just a warm-up. Elisha gasped, startled at the sudden sweet pain: Koth had penetrated Elisha’s ass and now fucked down onto him and his brother beneath them, forcing Elisha’s own fuck-pace with his own. “Get your snot in him, Elisha! He needs your seed!”

Elisha lost it in seconds and spurted inside Seth’s sheath what felt like a dozen or more heavy whacks of spunk. Koth, still in his ass, did the same. Elisha felt the boy spasm.

They separated for a moment, Elisha pulling his still-dribbling dick from Seth’s snatch, and Koth removing his from Elisha’s. 

Koth dropped to the mattress, wiggling his way in between Kasyn and Seth, pushing them apart to make room for his turn with their breeding stud. Kasyn blasted Elisha’s nuts again with the hypo and Elisha dripped tears from his huge dark eyes, unable to believe how fucking rocked and horny he was yet again after having just dropped his second cum-dump into one of Kasyn’s sons. “Fuck him,” Kasyn said, brushing fingers through Koth’s hair. “Drill him! Knock him right the fuck up!”

Elisha sank his tool deep into the third boy’s clenching cunt. Koth shuddered and keened beneath him, squeezing Elisha’s dong as if he had a fist inside his crotch, gasping in the heat and thrill of a vaginal climax. Koth’s dick dribbled white spit onto his belly and Elisha accelerated, thrust-pounding the kid—all the way in and then all the way out—reaming hard the orgasming boy’s sopping pussy. “Fuck!” screamed Elisha as he tipped over the edge of climax and popped his nut into Koth’s cunt. He held his rod inside the lad, as deeply as he could, until he felt the cum-flood was over, that he had put as much juice as possible into the third son.

He withdrew and rolled onto his back, boys to either side and he had this thought: I assume my sperm is good, that this will work? He reminded himself that he was making this seed with Jaustin’s nuts and that Jaustin was infamous for leaving his female fans with child. 

“Excuse me for a moment.” Elisha slid out from in between his sweaty lovers and he padded into the large bathroom, feeling like he badly needed to take a piss. Low late afternoon light beamed through the skylights in the marble chamber’s high ceiling and hit the gigantic mirror that covered most of one wall. In its bright glare, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the look of his own fit and naked body. He rather wished he had more of an ass, like those thick round humps on Kasyn and his sons. He turned away from the mirror, but stopped when he noticed out of the corner of his eye something in the glass. Elisha jumped back from it, astonished, when he saw that the sunlight illuminated symbols—words—smeared onto the glass as if with saliva or semen. He read them, whispered them to himself: “Zero o-rekt, zero zero rad-na, zero path ad-nah, A-Star A-Star!” He jumped back from the mirror as if stung. My god! An answer from the Cthulhist ouija! What do these boys know?

From Kyler’s journal…

Corvis is the same sort of creature as her coven-sister, the late Magran: a manipulator and a political animal, always with her eyes on what she thinks is her own grandiose role in whatever the future of her sisterhood is. This was evident from the way she chose to present herself on my aetherglass tonight when she finally made her overture. She was in the typical business suit and bun-clasped platinum hair of her coven, but she had added some outré eye-makeup and a sheaf of shimmering necklaces, and even a gossamer tiara in her neat hair. Behind her, spotlit in the gloom of the room, was young Blue Junior, evidently asleep in a chair. Her greeting was wholly over the top: “My Great Lord and Prince Kyler, please accept my sincerest thanks for accepting my call this evening!”

I ignored it. “If that boy behind you is not well, Corvis, you will pay a heavy price.”

“Him?” She tittered, her grin preternaturally wide. “Oh! He’s fine. Just napping for a bit, as he was feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been a night of some energy expenditure, o my brother!”

“Sister Corvis, unless you have some point to this call other than conveying to me where my men may fetch the boy and return him to his father, let’s just get that information right now and call it a night.”

She laughed again, widely and without humor. “Lord Kyler, you get ahead of yourself.”

“I assure you, I do not.”

“But you do!” She leaned forward and her fake smile dissolved. “I’ll cut right to it. This is a sincere proffer: a truce between your family and my coven. I’ll return the Slut-Maker’s son to you as a token of good faith, and you will cease any hostilities toward us.”

“What would be the purpose of this alliance? To draw me into some kind of web that you bitches have spun with the fucking Church and their Chaos Ejaculatum? Are you insane? Do you not think that I do not know of your cooperation with them, your frequent presence in their Keep, lounging with them at the Frame of Discipline? Seriously, Corvis, fuck off!”

“And fuck you, Lord Kyler!” Corvis stood, her white face suddenly flushed red, and the tiara drooped in her hair. “The reason that I even have this boy here with me is because I saved his stupid life!”

I waited for more. She added, “The Chaos kidnapped him and they were in the process of torturing him to death in the Frame, in a vain attempt to get information out of him related to his father’s work and related to you, Lord Kyler!” She paused, settled back into her seat, took a breath, and continued: “But he did not break. Not even close. It was as if he had a deep and personal loyalty to you for some reason, so deep that he’d die for you. Honestly, it makes no sense. At any rate, they were going to kill him for no reason, so I and my sisters killed them—two of their inquisitors—and we left with the boy. You, Kyler, are waging a sub rosa war with the Church, but mine is now out in the open!”

Intrigued and rather surprised, I asked, “So how do we work together? What exactly needs to happen for you to think that this is a good deal?”

“The fucking Church needs a new pope,” she said, and she just let that statement hang in the aether between us.

“What does that even mean?”

She leaned toward me, and through the aether I could almost smell her spicy witch scent. “Just what I said. A new pope. I know that you are expected—as the Aetheric Prince of this land—to attend His Holiness at the Opera House gala tomorrow tonight. As an Aetheric Prince, you have a legitimate rank in the Church, Lord Kyler.”

I sat there for a moment trying to apprehend this oblique proposal. “You’re fucking insane!” 

She smiled, wan and wry at once, and she said, “Just sleep on it, my prince. Let’s talk again in the morning.” And she hazed away, the glass gone dark. 

Meanwhile in the Core Kasei on the planet Mars…

Dazzled by the ruddy sunlight and the unexpected steaminess of the air, Jaustin Moss kept Radon close, holding him by his hand and guiding him through the crowd emptying from the aetherport down into the city’s ancient streets. They saw a rippling shadow fall and they felt a sense of a disturbance overhead, and they looked up together to see the very same aetherdragon that had brought them down from the ship. It ascended upward, the flapping of its vast wings creating a little counter-breeze that reached them on the ground. Its deep long screech, receding as it rose, brought smiles to both their faces. 

“Shouldn’t we have at least told the captain,” Radon wondered, “that we were leaving with our shares and never coming back to the ship?”

“Who gives a fuck about them? You have the money now. Anyway, those dirty creeps! I still feel like I need to hose out my ass.” Jaustin stopped, pulled Radon close to his chest and kissed him. People flowed around them as if they were a rock that had suddenly emerged in the middle of a stream. Jaustin kissed Radon more deeply, feeding his whole tongue into Radon’s soft mouth. Radon pulled away, laughing. “Settle down, boy! We are in public!” 

“I don’t care who sees us,” said Jaustin, and Radon almost believed him.

Said Radon, “Why do you even like me so much, Jaustin Moss?”

Jaustin, momentarily struck dumb by the question, at first said nothing. But then he said, “Who knows? Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“No.” Radon laughed and leaned into Justin and kissed him again.

Jaustin held Radon against him and caressed his hair, and the crowd exiting the aetherport thinned around them until soon they were more or less alone in the center of and halfway down an immense stony stair—more like a series of huge rock shelves stacked one upon the other—which descended toward a broad avenue lined with trees that looked like the spines of the extinct terror lizards of Earth. “Well,” Radon said, “do you know where we are going now that we’re here?”

Jaustin turned toward the city and the lowering sun. “Look. Out there!” Radon followed  Jaustin’s gaze. Out there rose a trio of black columns—or towers?—hazed in low-slung clouds, far off in the distance. They must be so tall! They touch the clouds! thought Radon. “What is that?”

Jaustin, softly, said, “The Imperial Keep. We’re going there to meet an angel.”

Captured from the news feed…

“We see them now!” a breathless newscaster proclaims. A huge black armored car rolls up  against the curb and stops at the end of the tongue of thick red carpet leading from the street into the towering opera house. Boys of the Apparatus Priapus, clad in formal kilts and waistcoats and ties, wave to the side the paparazzi and other onlookers. Camera flashes blast. The car’s curb-facing door opens and, to gasps and cheers, emerge two figures.

“And here they are! The Aetheric Lord Prince Kyler himself and his husband the Prince Kasyn!”

As the princes set foot on the red carpet and give little waves to the onlookers, the newscaster notes, “And they are looking so fabulous tonight, clad—we are told—all in glistening fuligin black from Kult Kabana, every bit of it from Kyler’s classic kilt to Kasyn’s new-mod trousers. Their band-crowns, we are told, are from the ancient family collection, and they are studded with Martian lithium crystals. What a great and rare view of these stylish princes for their adoring people!”

A reporter presses close to the rope line and yells, “Kyler! Are you excited to meet the Pope tonight?”

Kyler smiles at the young reporter—and imagines the pretty geeky kid’s mouth around his thick veiny shaft— and he says, “I am sure it will all be very interesting, but I am really here foremost for our good cause tonight: aid for the victims of the Font Hellacious quake. Everyone with the means should give at the aethersite, and we thank His Holiness for putting his name behind our cause.”

“Prince Kyler!” shouts a photographer. “May we have one front-page photo?” 

Kyler pauses and draws Kasyn close. “More light please!” the camera man yells. Shed in more light, Kyler and Kasyn give Mona Lisa smiles and the flashes flare.

To be continued…