Pure Imagination

If you have been waiting for me to finally get off my lazy backside and continue this story, please accept my apologies for the length of time it has taken. I wasn’t happy with the way ‘Pure Imagination’ was going so having reached a crossroads on the path of its narrative I decided to pause and take a few weeks to re-evaluate where I wanted it to go. Some of you may be disappointed there is no sex in this chapter. Bear with me. The next one will be a true fuck-fest!

The gleamingly black Rolls-Royce came to a halt at the front doors of the Harding Tower in central London. The liveried doorman hurried down the steps to open the rear door to allow the car’s owner to step out. Viscount Michael Dean craned his head to look up towards the distant peak of the dominatingly muscular building. His Lordship wasn’t a great fan of very tall buildings, preferring to keep his feet firmly on the ground. The height of the building he surveyed caused him some misgivings, but taking a deep breath to steady his nerves he walked up the steps into the foyer. His PA, Julian, was already in the tower, waiting for him.

‘Good morning your Lordship.’

‘Morning Julian, is everything ready?’

Julian walked him to the elevator, pressing the call button as he answered. ‘Yes Sir. Our team has been here for the last two days and they gave me a brief update over the phone this morning.’ The two men entered the lift. Julian was about to continue with his briefing when Lord Dean held up his hand in a silencing motion. He gently insinuated himself into his PA’s conscious.

We will communicate like this until I say otherwise. A small nod from Julian confirmed he understood. They often spoke to each other via the mind link the Viscount had established between the two of them, Julian being fully aware of his boss’s supernatural abilities. Go on.

It seems that Harding is so keen to partner with us on the Erebus Project that he is willing to subjugate his company’s greater interests to ours. I don’t get it myself. The whole business community knows how ruthless and aggressive he is. I have to ask why he is prepared to play second fiddle to you. 

Has he shown his face yet? 

No, as reclusive as ever I’m afraid, although his CEO did hint that he might show up today. 

The Viscount smiled cynically. We’ll see. Right, take me through the people I’m seeing this morning, and out of interest, why did you meet me in the foyer and not one of their people?

To be honest Sir, I’ve been wondering that myself. I haven’t seen a sole other than the doorman since I got here. 

Not even our people?

No.

Stop the lift and take us back down, quickly. 

Julian hit the stop button on the elevator’s control pad. Nothing happened. The lift continued on its upward journey. Lord Dean hit the panel with all the strength his powers allowed him. His hand bounced off the brushed steel, leaving not a mark. He shot a bolt of energy at the buttons, it was absorbed by the unaffected structure. Moments later the lift stopped and the doors slid open revealing a huge open space enclosed by walls of floor to ceiling glass panels. The two men stayed where they were.

A deep voice echoed through the room. ‘Good morning gentlemen. Please enter and make yourselves comfortable.’

The Viscount moved to the open door of the lift scanning what he could see of the room. ‘We’d prefer to return to the ground please.’

A cold, mirthless laugh filled the air. ‘I’m afraid you no longer have the luxury of that option. The journey to the very top of my tower is strictly one way.’ Michael shuddered. Common sense had told him not to come to this meeting today. His gut had told him something wasn’t quite right, but the opportunity to finally meet his enemy was too much to pass up . He mentally kicked himself for his stupidity.

Accepting they had no choice, Michael walked into the room. Julian moved to follow him when he was thrown back into the lift by an unseen force. The doors closed, trapping him inside. Michael could hear him beating his fists against the solid doors. The mind link they had shared was no longer in place. He walked forward into the centre of the room. ‘What do you want?’

Another chilling laugh. ‘You know what I want your Lordship. You can feeeeeeeel meeeee.’ The last two words were drawn out.

‘Harding.’ Michael turned to the right, instinctively knowing that was where his Nemesis stood. Just as he was about to walk towards the source of the scratching, evil voice a force slammed into him propelling him backwards. He flew through the air until his back made hard and painful contact with the reinforced glass windows. All the breath was knocked from his body and intense pain flooded through him. He felt his limbs twisting, his back arched to near breaking. The pain he felt left him unable to breathe. He gasped like a hooked fish thrown onto the deck of a boat, thrashing about unable to regain any control over himself.

He could feel his life force beginning to ebb away from him. Fighting with himself mentally he sought to repel the evil magic that was slowly, painfully killing him.

Without any warning or reason that he could comprehend the pain vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Moments passed with nothing happening, giving him time to collect his thoughts and to throw a protective shield around himself that he hoped would be effective against the power that minutes ago had so nearly destroyed him.

He staggered to his feet feeling weak and confused. He knew Harding was the Murnchnik and that he had willingly walked into the lion’s den but he had honestly believed he had the magical power necessary to protect himself from the destructive being he had come to meet. Laughter rumbled towards him. It sucked all light from the room as it moved across the floor. A nauseating smell of decay and death assailed his senses. He could taste the rottenness of it.

His protective shield held. The stinking fog of mocking laughter wrapped itself around him, he felt the strength of it as it attempted to crush his invisible armour. Realising he was able to fight back if only to protect himself, Michael gained confidence. Drawing himself to his full height he threw his shoulders back and using all the energy he could summon, pushed back against the evil trying to smother him. Slowly but steadily his shield grew creating more and more clear space around him. His efforts were successful but they were draining his reserves. He knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. He began to prepare himself for death, believing that unless there was a miracle his time had come.

He leant back against the warm steel of a window frame. Wait a minute, he thought, a WARM window frame. His mind worked quickly once he realised that at the height the Harding Tower reached nothing outside or connected to it should be warm. Placing both hands behind him he pressed his palms against the metal. Relief flooded through him as heat, being channelled from outside, filled him with more energy and power than he had ever known.

He felt the structure he pressed against beginning to shift in form allowing him to sink into and then through it until he found himself floating outside the penthouse office suite, hundreds of feet in the air. He was pulled away from the building towards a bright, welcoming light in the clouds. He looked back at the tall, forbidding building he had been rescued from in time to see the thick, bullet proof windows of the Murnchnik’s abode bulge and flex like molten glass before they erupted in a silent explosion that sent millions of deadly, life seeking shards into the air. Thousands embedded themselves in Alexander’s protective shield, testing it’s strength and durability to it’s limit. Even as he reached the safety of the warm, bright cloud, his armour failed just enough to allow a slither of the malevolent glass to pass though and stab him in the eye.

Alexander felt nothing as darkness claimed him.

Two weeks later

Noise, the sound of people talking in hushed tones was the first thing he noticed as he slowly woke from the darkness the shard of glass had plunged him into. He opened his eyes a little, instantly closing them again as the brightness seared into his mind. Trying to raise his hand to shield himself from the light he found he was unable to move. The realisation that he was restrained caused panic in his befuddled brain.

‘He’s awake.’ A calm, female voice announced. ‘Go and get Rob and Aaron.’ At the sound of the Guardians’ names Michael relaxed knowing that if the two of them were there he was in safe hands.

During the two weeks that Michael had been in a coma, Rob and Aaron had had their work cut out limiting the damage caused by the supernatural explosion that had scattered millions of tiny shards of glass across London, and then as the winds and waters became infected, across much of the western hemisphere. Born from a violent burst of pure evil the near invisible splinters were imbued with the dark magic that had created them. Every living creature that was pierced by one of the needle like shards either died in tortuous agony or became part of the evil that infected them. Clouds of glittering radiance blew around in the atmosphere to either be brought to earth by rain where the deadly cargo infected hundreds of thousands wherever it fell, or in particularly spectacular fashion, were sucked into the engines of aircraft, shredding the fans and turbines that kept them airborne. Countless numbers of planes, carrying thousands of innocent passengers plunged to the earth. There were no survivors.

It became impossible to count the number of dead, and it took the two Guardian’s some time to find a way to stop the almost invisible weapon the Murnchnik had created in his desire to claim the world as his. In the end it was by sheer accident that a way to fight back and destroy the glass shards was found. Rob had been persuaded by Malcolm, the Faerie Council and other representatives from realms unseen by humans to continue his ‘Rainbow Tour’ that took in cities all across the UK and Europe. He and Aaron had travelled by train, through the Channel Tunnel to his concert venue in Paris. Opening night was warm, dry and welcoming to the eighty thousand fans that assembled in the outdoor arena. The air of excitement and anticipation in the air was almost tangible. Individuals in the crowd became as one as the emotional electricity they generated was collected by Aaron and used to form a protective shield above them.

The minute Rob walked on stage a wave of love rose high into the sky. It crashed into the cloud of death that the Murnchnik had sent to attack the revellers. The bright, pure energy fed off the crowd. The power of the song Rob sang lifted into the sky. His usual fare of rock and hard pop music had been replaced by some of the most beautiful and melodic songs in the repertoire of mankind’s song writers, and perhaps it was not a coincidence that his opening number was his version of the old Louis Armstrong standard, ‘Beautiful World’. The relevance of the moving lyrics was not lost on those listening as it’s message of hope lifted their spirits and with the help of powerful Faerie magic, filled their hearts and souls with happiness, hope and above all love.

The Murnchnik released the poisonous glass shower, throwing it down upon the crowd below, only to see his efforts thwarted as the shimmering needles came into contact with wave after wave of pure goodness emanating from the stadium. Those watching saw the brightness of their collective love absorb the dark of the evil sent against them, creating a stunningly beautiful cloud filled with the colours of the rainbow. It lit the sky for hundreds of miles around, gathering momentum the more glass fragments it came into contact with.

Across the European continent, the rainbow cloud neutralised the Murnchnik’s weapon, turning the deadly shards into harmless bursts of colour. Through out the concert, the cloud of love grew and grew, flying higher and higher. A powerful current of air, reacting positively to the voice of the Guardian, took it and carried it across seas and oceans until, by the time the final note of the evening soared in to the ether, not a single splinter remained.

Rob was joined on stage by Aaron as he bid good night to the cheering crowd. With their embrace a towering shaft of near blinding light roared into the sky followed by a mighty roar of cleansing thunder that was felt across the planet. Another battle had been won by the two men both of whom were aware that their failure to find a way to fight back earlier had meant death and servitude to evil for millions.

By the time Michael emerged from his worrying coma, the world was in turmoil with as many seeking the destruction of all that was good as there were fighting to preserve and protect the love generated and enabled by the Guardians.

Rob and Aaron burst into the room, relief at the recovery of the man they both loved obvious in their faces. Aaron leaned over the bed and took his still frail father in his arms, releasing energy from himself into the damaged body. Rob gently placed his hands on his lover’s back channelling more healing power through him. Michael could feel himself repairing and growing stronger as the combined energy coursed through him.

Releasing his hold, Aaron straightened up and took his father’s hand in his. ‘If you ever do something as stupid as that again Dad, I will personally cut your balls off…….. Without anaesthetic!’

‘He has a point Michael’, interrupted Rob. ‘What exactly did you hope to achieve by walking into the middle of the Murnchnik’s web without our protection?’ Rob was justifiably angry with the magician who’s life had almost been taken by the evil they fought, not just because of his recklessness, although that was reason enough, but because of the anguish and pain the last weeks had brought to Aaron as he watched his father fighting for his life. It had taken their combined energy to remove the evil shard from his eye and very powerful spells provided by Malcolm to purge the all-consuming poison from his system.

Michael had the good sense to look embarrassed and penitent. ‘I honestly didn’t expect that he would try to kill me. It just seemed too good an opportunity to miss – to finally get at look at the creature trying to destroy our world. I hoped I would be able to talk to him, perhaps even reason with him.’

‘Talk to him? REASON WITH HIM? What the fuck Dad? He …….. IT is not some opposition politician you can bargain with. You CANNOT reason with the Devil.’ Aaron threw his hands up in frustration. ‘Your little chat has cost millions of people their lives and just as many their souls and sanity.’ He took a deep, calming breath before sitting on the hospital bed and retaking hold of his father’s hand. When he spoke, his voice was full of emotion. ‘I love you Dad, but you need to know how much you have pissed me off and the damage your actions have caused.’ The powerful, energy filled eyes of the young Guardian looked deep into the tired, weary eyes of the man laying in the bed. Images of the chaos wrought by the clouds of glass shards passed in front of Michael, like a newsreel movie. The devastation caused was harrowing to see, especially given that he was the catalyst for what had happened. Tears, not of self-pity or humiliation, but of genuine sadness ran slowly down his cheeks.

‘I’m so very, very sorry.’ His voice was a whisper.

‘You should be Michael.’ The voice came from the door of the private ward. Standing tall and strong, Malcolm looked to be reborn. His hair was no longer grey and lank, but full and black. His old body, that had endured for so long was once again fit and muscular. His skin shone with a renewed brilliance. His voice was commanding, full of the authority that being the world’s most powerful and ancient magician could imbue it with. Rob and Aaron knew the full details of Malcolm’s regeneration. He was unrecognisable to Michael whose jaw fell open, the shock of seeing his old friend looking so well and yes, attractive, leaving him speechless.

Malcolm surveyed the room, smiling gently at the three men. His gaze came to rest on the man in the bed. ‘Rob, Aaron. Please leave us. Michael and I have things to discuss – private, confidential things.’ The two Guardian’s quietly left the room. Malcolm closed and locked the door behind them. A wave of his hand saw the window blinds close and a soft, warm light fill the room. He removed his coat and shoes before walking over towards Michael, coming to a halt less than a foot away from the bed. Slowly, methodically, Malcolm removed his clothes until he stood before Michael in just a tight pair of white briefs. Michael smiled weakly up at him. ‘You’ve changed. You look younger…….. stronger……….’ His voice tailed off.

Two weeks earlier

The battle against the evil wrought by the Murnchnik was not going well. Rob and Aaron had their work cut out trying to remove the glass shards from the atmosphere, and the Murnchnik took full advantage of their being tied up undoing his handiwork. Rivers flooded without warning making thousands homeless and killing many. Wild fires ran out of control across much of north and west America, while Australia was fast becoming uninhabitable thanks to temperatures in places being hot enough to quite literally boil the blood. Where it was ‘cooler’, people were presenting at A&E with first degree burns after only a few minutes spent in the sun. Millions of animals died from heat exposure and mortality rates among the elderly were huge. The country was in panic with the government being completely unable to do anything to help it’s citizens.

The Faerie folk were using every spell and bit of magic they could think of to try to combat these extreme weather conditions. It soon became obvious that it was a losing battle. The Guardians helped when they could but nothing anyone did could stop the planet being ravaged. An emergency meeting of the Supreme Faerie Council was called. For two days and nights the delegates, amongst them, the most powerful mages and witches on Earth, debated and argued as to what could be done. On the third morning the Council’s President, one of the longest lived of all Faerie folk, called for silence. His voice was tremulous but carried a power and authority like no other.

‘My fellow Faeries, we have argued enough. It is time for action before it is too late to stop this evil that assaults us on all sides. As the oldest living Faerie it is MY responsibility to provide you with leadership at times like this, something I have been reluctant to give in the hope that alternatives could be found to what I now realise is the only option open to us.’ The delegates began to show signs of restlessness, especially those old enough to know of what the Elder spoke. He raised his hands and gestured that the gathering become still. ‘Long ago, our ancestors foresaw that one day the Earth would face a demonic, ruthless enemy that would stop at nothing to achieve its ends. As protection against such, the strongest, most powerful beings then alive came together and formulated a spell unlike any before. A spell so strong, so demanding of sacrifice that it was locked away, its very existence hidden from all but a few. Its whereabouts and intent have been secretly passed down from generation to generation. It is clear that now is the time to bring it from its hidden vault and to employ it against this Murnchnik if we are to stand any chance of defeating him.’

The hall began to buzz with raised voices as those assembled demanded to know what the Elder was talking about. A magic more powerful than any the Faerie had used before? Why had it not been employed before? Why was it kept hidden? Who knew about it?

The buzz of voices grew louder and louder, drowning out the Elder as he tried to restore order. In frustration he turned to the table behind him on which stood a plain wooden box. He touched it lightly with his index finger and the lid fell open. Another slight touch and a near blinding light erupted from the inside and filled the huge dome above them. Silence fell on the hall.

The Elder pointed at the pulsating, undulating light. His voice remained controlled and firm. ‘This my Faerie friends and colleagues is the spell. It merely awaits our instructions.’

Cries of ‘Use it, use it,’ echoed through the hall. The Elder faced them down until it was silent once again. ‘I said this spell demanded sacrifice. A heavy price for its use will be paid by those assembled here today. I will explain what it is and why we must be certain we have no choice but to use it.’ The ancient Faerie took a deep, calming breath and drew himself to his full height.

‘When invoked the spell will endow one amongst us with the magical power of the ages – past, present and future. It will create a magician the like of which has never been seen before. His, or her strength will match that of the Guardians. He, or she, will become as one with the Guardians forming a magical triumvirate strong enough to battle and hopefully defeat our enemy.’ The crowd of magical beings began to chatter excitedly, after all, they were being offered a way out of the darkness. Again, the Elder waited patiently for the assembly to calm and become quiet and attentive. ‘However, in order for the spell to achieve it’s goal it must effectively mine the magic it will fill it’s chosen vessel with.’ Pausing to take a steadying breath, the Elder locked eyes with Malcolm who’s steady gaze gave him the strength to continue with the hammer blow he had to deliver to those who looked to him for a solution. ‘The spell is greedy. It is hungry. It will dig all that it requires to succeed from wherever it finds the power it needs. It will feed voraciously until it’s task is completed and the one it has chosen stands before us all powerful – the ultimate master of all the magic the World holds, both good and bad.’ He looked around the hall, taking in the many faces filled with hope, praying to his gods that not too many would be needed.

‘Unfortunately, we are the raw material that the spell requires. We are the fuel that will ensure its success.’

The hall was silent as each and every creature assembled there processed what the Elder had told them. Suddenly a bright finger of iridescence shot out from the pulsing light of the spell. Like the swiftest arrow it shot across the hall towards its target. The young witch it speared screamed in shock and agony. The string of light became solid as the very essence of the witch was drained from her, travelling back along the spell’s pulsing arm. All watched as slowly, painfully, irreversibly, life and magic left the young woman leaving behind a dry, desiccated husk that crumbled to so much dust as the spell withdrew from her.

A tear ran down the Elder’s time worn face. His shoulders sagged under the huge weight he carried. He raised an arm and pointed to where the witch had stood. His voice was a hoarse, pain filled whisper, ‘That is the price of our success my friends.’ He turned to face the shimmering column that was the spell. ‘For the world to live, many here must die. For one amongst us to become the being the world desperately needs, we must sacrifice ourselves to prove our worthiness. We must now decide if we are prepared to give all that we are. Look inside yourselves and ask are you brave enough, are we desperate enough to unleash the power of this spell? Is there any other way? I will give you five human minutes to decide.’ He walked off the stage as the voices in the hall became louder.

As the noise of anger and fear grew, a previously unnoticed figure moved through the crowd towards the front of the hall. The figure’s bearing was proud and majestic, it’s regal stature growing as she effortlessly ascended to the stage. It was Aurora, the mighty and beautiful Queen-goddess of the Faerie. Few of the hundreds gathered in the hall had ever seen her but all knew who she was. Her name was legend and many had been questioning why she had not appeared to aid them in this, their darkest hour. She walked up to the bright pulsing column of the wakened spell and reached out placing her palm gently on its shimmering surface. The spell seemed to recognise her as it bent towards her, its colour changing to silver and gold. An ethereal being began to coalesce . The light twisted and writhed. The crowd looked on in silent wonder, as before their eyes the pillar of light became something that resembled a Faerie form. It joined it’s hand to that of their Queen who began to glow from within. Soon two equally bright beings stood before them, their colours swirled together, moving gently with an unimagined beauty. The Queen spoke for the first time. Her voice was both reassuring and terrifying in equal measure. Reassuring because she had control over the powerful spell. Terrifying because the words she spoke struck fear and dread into all present.

‘One has been chosen. One will be restored to youthful perfection. One will hold the balance of the world in his hands. He that is chosen will personify love - physical, emotional, magical love. No one will be able to resist his beauty. His sexual energy will know no bounds, and no one, no being, will be able to deny him domination. Together with the human Guardians he will have the power to meet this Murnchnik, this pure, malevolent evil in battle.’ The combined light from the two figures on the stage began to spread around the hall. It moved among the assembled Faerie, surrounding each and everyone of them with the power of its radiance. The Queen spoke again. ‘Twelve of you will forfeit your physical selves to provide the life force necessary to create he that has been chosen. Twelve pure, uncorrupted souls must give their lives that the rest may live.’ The warming, soothing light than held them all in its grasp moved to form itself into twelve bright electric blue and white balls of energy around the twelve beings it deemed worthy of sacrifice. Slowly and gracefully the twelve balls floated upwards and began to move towards the chosen one. Those close to him felt themselves pushed back by an unseen hand leaving him alone in the centre of the circle created. None were surprised to see that it was Malcolm whom the spell had chosen. He was readily accepted by those gathered in the hall as the best of them. He was honest, trustworthy, intelligent and knowledgeable. He was known as someone who commanded loyalty from others, readily giving his own full commitment to those who sought and deserved it. No one questioned the wisdom of the choice, although many were relieved that they were not one of those chosen to give themselves over to the spell to ensure its success.

The twelve balls of light settled around Malcolm, forming an impenetrable barrier. On the stage, the figure that was the spell and that of the Queen merged to become one. No one was able to look directly at the new creatures blindingly bright light. All eyes turned to Malcolm as the figure on the stage arched above the crowd below and connected with the twelve souls surrounding him. The chosen twelve held hands with those beside them. Twelve mouths emitted a silent cry of wonder as together they poured their power and love into the vessel at their centre. Malcolm flung his arms wide and screamed as the energy from the twelve, amplified and strengthened by the creature on the stage seared through him. Those watching saw the old mage light up like the brightest star before collapsing in a heap of broken bones and charred flesh. The spell continued to channel the energy from the twelve into the broken, writhing mess that slowly solidified and became still. As the last of the twelves life and magic left their bodies each ball of light flew to the towering magnificence on the stage that absorbed them into itself before it too simply disappeared leaving only the Queen standing proud and powerful before them. She pointed at the burnt husk that had been Malcolm. ‘BEHOLD.’ Her voice shook the foundations of the building. An ear splitting ‘CRACK’ reverberated around the room accompanied by bolts of cold, white lightening that flew above the heads of those gathered. The carapace that was once Malcolm had split open and like a phoenix from the ashes the glory that he now was emerged. A collective gasp filled the air. Where there had been a tired, life-worn old man there stood an Adonis.

He was god-like in his appearance. Taller by a head than anyone else in the hall, the man before them was physically perfect in every way. His musculature was breath takingly beautiful with every muscle defined and developed to appeal to all who looked on him. Every male in the hall became achingly hard, every female wet between the legs. The smell of sex filled the air. Malcolm raised his head. He slowly looked round the crowded room. Those who felt his gaze experienced an orgasm unlike any they had had before. Females fell to the floor in ecstasy, males filled their underwear with thick, pungent man juice. Malcolm absorbed all the energy released by those climaxing around him. His magnificent penis thickened and grew to a staggering twelve thick throbbing inches. As more and more of those assembled released their orgasmic juices Malcolm seemed to grow more perfect, more beautiful and his raging erection became harder and harder until with a mighty roar that shook the walls he released his own torrent of spunk that flew from his tumescence like water from a jet-wash. No one in the room was untouched by the thick, magical liquid he ejaculated. All felt as though his massive manhood had ploughed their cunts or arses. All fell to their knees in recognition of the magnificent specimen created by the spell. A beautiful, powerful, sexual being, unlike anything that had previously walked the Earth stood tall, proud and dominant before them. Malcolm felt the longing and love that emanated from those he had just baptised with his life giving fluid. He turned to face the Queen, gently nodding his head in reverence to her.

The Elder spoke. ‘Behold, the spell is complete. Malcolm is our third Guardian. He completes the promised Trilogy of Air, Earth and Water. Pray to the gods that they are successful in returning a healed world to us.’

* * * *

Michael lay on the hospital bed watching Malcolm as he moved around the room muttering what he assumed were incantations and spells of protection. He was aware that although his physical injuries had been repaired thanks to the magic of Rob and Aaron, his mental and magical self was still in shock. His self confidence had been destroyed by the way the Murnchnik had so easily almost destroyed him. His magic had never failed to protect him until his encounter with an evil he now feared. His belief in himself and his abilities had been shattered. Malcolm too was conscious of his friends feelings of weakness. He had spoken at length with Rob and Aaron about what needed to be done to restore Michael to his former self.

Unaware of the events at the Faerie gathering and the total rebirth of the old magician, when Michael first saw the tall, muscular man enter his hospital room, he had no idea who he was. He could feel the energy emanating from the god-like being, and was aware that he was in the presence of a powerful entity. He felt no fear, only, he slowly realised, longing. Michael had been heterosexual all his life. He had no issues with others who chose a different sexuality to his own and had always been able to recognise when a man was attractive, but he had never before felt the need to touch and be held by someone of the same sex. He had realised who Malcolm was when he heard his voice and for reasons he couldn’t explain he wasn’t surprised that his old friend now stood before him transformed into the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

Malcolm stood at the side of the bed and reaching down took hold of Michaels hand. He spoke softly, tenderly. ‘How do you see me Michael? Tell me what you see.’ Michael hesitated. ‘Tell me.’ Malcolm’s voice was quiet and calm, yet at the same time commanding and impossible to ignore. Michael breathed deeply feeling energy from

‘You are all that any man could desire Malcolm, from the top of your thick, beautiful hair to the tip of your perfectly manicured toenails you are a perfect specimen of manhood.’ He felt as though he was being pulled towards the Greek god standing before him. He reached out the hand nearest to him bringing it’s palm to rest on the sculptured torso’s impossibly defined stomach. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as his emotions began to run unchecked.

‘Look at me Michael. Look at my face.’ Two pairs of eyes, one brilliant, bright blue, the other dark and flecked with amber, came together. ‘Tell me what you want Michael. Tell me what you need.’

Without hesitation the smitten human replied. ‘You Malcolm. I want ……. Need, you. I don’t understand why but everything I am is craving all that you are.’ Malcolm smiled and clicked his fingers. The sheet covering Michael’s naked body slid to the floor exposing his aroused state to the god-like magician. A thick, hard length of manhood stood proud and throbbing, a drop of clear liquid nestling in the slit at it’s crown.

‘You do realise that if we cross this line we can never go back?’ Michael nodded once. Malcolm continued. ‘We will become as one, inseparable. Like Rob and Aaron we will become lovers and our powers will intensify every time we couple. Our love and desire for each other will be both our strength and our weakness. Only if we allow someone or some thing to come between us will we fail. Are you prepared to make the commitment required of you? Are you ready to love me physically and emotionally with all that you are? Will you become the vessel for my seed? Will you open yourself to me, allowing me to fully enter you, to become as one with you?’ As he spoke, Malcolm tenderly ran his finger tips over Michael’s aching body.

Involuntary moans of desire escaped from Michael’s mouth as he felt the sexual energy being channelled by Malcolm seep into the core of his being. His sense of touch became more and more heightened as the magical, sensuous fingers travelled over his skin. His breathing shortened as he felt the hand move inexorably towards his leaking cock only for it to move round it to travel down his thighs. The warmth of Malcolm’s touch spread to every part of him allowing him to completely relax under the ministrations of his newly accepted lover.

For his part, Malcolm felt an attraction to the damaged but still attractive man laying before him unlike any he had experienced in his centuries long life. He watched as his fingers played across the toned muscles, smiling whenever he touched a particular spot that solicited a louder moan or sharp intake of breath. His desire to lower his mouth to catch the drops of pre-cum running from the end of Michael’s impressive cock was difficult to control. He held himself back, waiting for Michael to make the next move. He had to know that his love and desire was honestly returned in equal measure before he could allow himself to completely possess the man who was making his own cock so hard inside the confines of his trousers that it was actually painful.

Malcolm’s hand came to rest on Michael’s cheek where he gently brushed his thumb back and forth. He felt his chosen lover lean into him. Michael turned his head, took Malcolm’s hand in his, and with a love that came from his soul, kissed the Guardian’s palm. As he did so, he reached up and drew Malcolm’s head down towards his until with a passion filled groan he brought the Adonis’s full, soft lips onto his own eager, demanding ones. The other man’s tongue gently probed at Michael’s lips and he opened them willingly to allow himself to be dominated, moaning with pleasure as Malcolm’s tongue fiercely explored his welcoming mouth. Both found the taste of the other electrifying and their hands began to explore each other without embarrassment or hesitancy.

Malcolm pulled back, keeping his hands on Michael’s shoulders. He looked him steadily in the eye. ‘Do you trust me Michael?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then take my hands in yours, close your eyes, and let me take you somewhere more beautiful and magical than anywhere else on this Earth.’ Michael smiled, took hold of Malcolm’s hands and closed his eyes. He felt himself pulled to his feet then Malcolm’s strong arms enfolded him in their embrace. He heard his lover incanting a magical chant. The air around them prickled and hummed. Michael felt a breeze lift his hair  - it was warm, comforting, filled with the scent of blossom and the song of birds. The sound of water falling into a pool carried to him. Malcolm kissed his lips softly and released him from his arms. ‘Open your eyes Michael.’

The first thing Michael saw was the smiling face of his man, then as he became accustomed to the bright, clear almost sparkling sky and the light it shone on all around them, he gasped in wonder. Malcolm hadn’t been joking when he said he was taking him somewhere especially beautiful. He was entranced by the colours surrounding them, so pure and pristine. A smile lit up his handsome face as he watched hummingbirds more dazzling than any he had seen before. Deer, rabbits, horses, even pigs wandered freely showing no fear of or interest in the two interlopers.

‘Welcome to my home Michael. It’s whereabouts is known only to me, Rob and Aaron.’ He spread his arms as if to encompass all he saw. ‘It is one of the three most magically powerful places on the planet. No one, nothing however evil can reach us here. I have brought you here firstly to repair and regain your strength and power, and secondly so that we can make love whenever and wherever we choose. I want to share my life with you and this island will be where our journey begins.