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Mind Fuck

Chapter 32

Sunlight played across Etienne's eyelids. He moaned but didn't open his eyes. And somehow, even without looking, he knew it was not normal sunlight. There was something urgent, something inviting about it. It tickled his eyelids as if to purposely call him from dreams. But he didn't want to wake up. Such sweet dreams he'd been having . . . of Azrian and her golden eyes, smiling at him, wreathed in lashes. Of a beautiful white dog . . . . with a beautiful white mane . . . singing to him as he fed from her breasts . . .

"Etienne my darling little prince. I will always be with you."

Etienne frowned as the light swelled brighter, as the white dog became a flame engulfing him. "Mother?" he whispered. He heard her laugh, and it was beautiful. He felt such peace in her arms. He wanted to slip away . . . and never return.

"Etienne!"

"Ah!" Etienne shouted irritably when someone pinched his cheek and stretched it. Scowling, he opened his eyes and went still: a blue bird was crouching over him, and the blue sky shimmered around her, as if it were not the sky but an extension of her. Her slanted eyes were bright and gold as fire, and a mane of blue feathers fell in a cascade around her small face and shoulders. For some reason, he looked at her and thought of Azrian. She looked down at him with intense eyes, and her short golden beak curled in a smile.

"There you are," she whispered, her voice soft and soothing. She smoothed her golden claw back through his mane and looked at him with gentle eyes. From her arms hung small blue wings, shifting gently like flared sleeves in the wind. Her wings were glossy, almost as if wet. She reflected the sunlight like water.

"Who are you?" the prince said hoarsely. He tried to sit up. The bird helped him. He glanced around and went still again: he was sitting on the floor of a white gazebo, while nearby, water rushed away in a stream, clear and dazzling white in the sunlight. Trees and flowers spread away along white cobbled paths, and in the distance, white spires rose to the cloudless sky. Palaces were floating on round wheels of cloud, rotating slowly as pink-frothed clouds carried tiny silhouettes to them. Birds wheeled back and forth across the sky. And the singing . . . it was unlike anything he had ever heard.

"I am La'puit, born of fire and sun," said the female bird in her soft, melodic voice. "I am goddess of all that is the mind, intuition, and the still waters."

"Kay. And I'm . . . where again?"

"In Hektaten, the highest tier of Kingdom Skkye, ruled by she who is Hildrith'el."

"Skkye?" Etienne muttered, rubbing his ears as the little bird helped him up. She was wearing a long, translucent white gown that clung to the wide shape of her hips and her perky breasts. He tried and failed not to notice her pink nipples pressing through. He scowled in another direction. She was a bird. Why did she even have nipples?

The bird laughed. "Why, surely the prince knows what use nipples can be put to," she teased, emerging from Etienne's thoughts.

Etienne looked at her to find her moon-shaped eyes crinkled up with laughter. They were such pretty eyes. Like Azrian's. He looked away again. "Why am I here? Last thing I remember . . . I was about to be shot." He touched his own chest and glanced down, half-expecting to find himself riddled with bullet holes. Instead, he was completely naked. His own muscular belly crunched to greet him, and his large penis slapped his thigh when he jerked with surprise. He straightened up again and cupped himself.

La'puit laughed softly. "Come," she said, placing a gentle claw on his arm. She guided him toward a white stone basin, in which water glistened, clear and clean in the shade of the gazebo.

Etienne looked in the water and saw his own reflection, his muscular arms hugging his sides as he cupped himself with both paws; his thick neck; his long golden mane. Beside him, La'puit looked the size of a child. Almost like Azrian. He stared at their reflections, waiting for something to happen. "Alright. Looking in the bird bath. Am I supposed to see my destiny or something?"

La'puit's short beak curled again in a smile. She leaned close to Etienne's arm and her mane-feathers tumbled in the sudden breeze as she whispered with narrowed eyes, "Drink."

Etienne hesitated but raised his paw. He was about to scoop his paw for a drink when his reflection dissolved, and in its place, a white dog appeared. She was beautiful, her blue eyes urgent, her pretty face wreathed in a mass of white curls. She was the female from his dream. He halted and stared at her. She mouthed the words, "Don't drink!" before disappearing. His reflection appeared in her place once more.

"What troubles you?" La'puit said soothingly.

Etienne glanced at her. "You didn't see . . .?"

"I see only that you are hesitating."

"But why do I have to drink?" Etienne demanded.

La'puit's bright golden eyes glanced over him suspiciously, and for one terrible moment, he thought she'd seen his vision in the basin. But she smiled again, and her eyes were gentle and imploring. "If you do not drink," she said, peering up at him in earnest, "you will not be able to stand in the presence of her majesty Hildrith'el. She will tell you everything you wish to know."

Etienne looked at the water again. Somehow, he remembered Azrian mentioning a Hildrith'el. They had spoken about Skkye more than once, sometimes long into the night. Though he had to admit he hadn't really been listening to Azrian but to the sound of her voice as he fell asleep. Now he silently cursed himself for not listening. He couldn't decide if La'puit was telling the truth or if the weird vision in the water was. He decided not to trust the weird vision . . . and drank.

"Excellent," La'puit sang.

Etienne licked his lips as the world spun and he slipped once more to darkness.

***

When Etienne awoke again, he was on his back, in a bed, still naked, in a room that rivaled the most luxurious room in WychowlCastle. The chamber's color scheme was red and gold, and it clashed horribly with La'puit's sky blue feathers. She lay beside him on the bed, clad in a tight ensemble that seemed to be comprised entirely of string: one loop of golden string around her hips and sex, one loop of golden string to hold golden triangles of cloth over her high breasts. A bowl of grapes was beside her, and leaning on her elbow, she rolled a grape in her slender fingers as she slowly smiled at him.

Etienne felt too dazed to move. He tried to speak, but his mouth was heavy, and when he tried to open it, no sound came out. Only a line of drool. He tried to lift his paws, but his arms wobbled against the red coverlet and wouldn't life. He glanced down and realized with sudden alarm that he was rock hard. And spit. Spit was dripping off his penis. La'puit had been licking him as he'd slept.

"Poor darling," La'puit teased and licked her beak with a suggestive tongue.

Looking at her, Etienne could suddenly remember it: her hot, careful tongue bathing his penis, his own moans as he hardened in his sleep, the way she used her feathers to tickle him to throbbing arousal. He could feel his penis standing against the air, silently aching for more. He tried to speak again and sputtered up more drool.

"Ugh," complained someone from the other side of the room. "I told you to gag the thing, but you wouldn't listen. Now he's drooling all over my most expensive coverlet. And I'll have you replace it if he does it again."

Weary and dazed, Etienne dragged his eyes to the right and paused when he noticed the other presence in the room: an orange bird, male, tall and toned with muscles, stood at a vanity in the wide windows. Sunlight poured in, bright and white, dazzling every little perfume bottle and golden brush on the vanity. The male bird had a long cascading mane of orange feathers tipped in gold, and his thick neck flexed when he took a small vial from the vanity and tossed it back for a drink. He turned as he was drinking, and Etienne saw his large penis swell upright, thick and strong.

Etienne sluggishly tore his eyes away and looked into La'puit's face when the pretty bird pinched his cheeks in her grasp.

"Now, brother," she said, dabbing Etienne's spit from his chin with a cloth. "Stop complaining, will you? It's not like we have any choice. Mother said to keep him from returning to Aonre. And that's what we'll do."

The orange bird at the vanity grumbled under his breath but came to the bed. Etienne watched with a pounding heart as he sat near him. He was so close, his hard penis was almost in Etienne's face. He smiled down at Etienne, leaning one muscular arm on the golden headboard, and the back of his fingers touched Etienne's cheek. His hungry eyes were golden, and like La'puit's, they reminded Etienne of Azrian.

"There is no pain in Skkye," the male whispered to Etienne. "But there is the pain of pleasure. I can make you feel such things, you will be weeping by the end of it. And my sister . . . they do not call her the goddess of the waters because she is bone dry."

Etienne swallowed hard as the orange bird's meaning became clear.

La'puit laughed. "Stop teasing him, dear brother. I do believe he came a little."

Etienne trembled slightly when La'puit pressed her slender finger to the head of his penis. She pulled it away, dragging a white line of cum from his head. Etienne whimpered softly. If he didn't know release soon, he would burst. Literally.

"I believe introductions are in order," La'puit said, licking her beak and extending her tongue for a grape. The orange bird reached across to feed her, and he smiled when she took the grape from him. Etienne glanced at him and thought he was too handsome. He swallowed hard as his eyes traced over the bird's sculpted chest, and his erection wobbled.

"This is my brother," La'puit said, smiling at Etienne as she rested on her elbow. Her big breasts were smashed together, and the rising cleavage jiggled when she spoke. He stared at them. With long lashes, she gazed at him brightly and steadily. "He is Li'Enlil, born of sun and fire, god of victory and dominance and all that is passion and pleasure. He is my twin, and our mother is Ayni, goddess of fire and rage. Our father is her brother, Ti'uu, god of stillness, the water, and the sun."

Etienne went rigid: these were Azrian's siblings.

"And it is our intention," said Li'Enlil softly, "to ride you until you've lost your senses."

"Until you forget everything you knew in the mortal realm," La'puit added, "and become our slave. Now and forever."

Etienne began to tremble when the siblings rose from the bed. They both went toward his penis, which stood thick and hungry still. La'puit straddled Etienne's lap but did not lower her hips, instead kneeling over him with her legs wide. Etienne gulped as Li'Enlil came up behind her . . . and slowly pulled her top down to reveal her heavy breasts. Her eyes hooded as her brother's careful claw massaged her heavy breast as if he was milking it. His other claw smoothed down her slender midriff to the string that wound around her sex. He snapped the string easily and spread her blue feathers with two fingers to reveal her pink, swollen sex. She sighed as his careful fingers touched her, gently massaging her clitoris to throbbing. Etienne swallowed hard: he could see her juices oozing down her slender thighs.

"Oh . . . my brother . . ." La'puit whispered. Her lashes fluttered and breasts heaved. She reached back to touch the square jaw of her brother's handsome face. "Touch me . . ."

Li'Enlil nuzzled his beak lovingly in his sister's neck, then took her by the hips and eased her down on Etienne's rigid penis. Her lashes fluttered as Etienne filled her, and Etienne gasped as the heat of her enfolded him. He saw his own rippling belly flexing as her hungry sex sucked on him hard, saw her pink lips splitting tight to clench on his shaft. She leaned back against her brother and slowly rolled her hips . . . and her moist sex massaged him in ways that made more drool slip down his chin.

"Mfph - ah!" Etienne sputtered. It was too much, too intense. He wanted to get away. And he could only imagine what his face looked like as he resisted and succumbed to the pleasure at intervals. Li'Enlil peered over his sister's shoulder at Etienne, smiling darkly as he massaged her big breasts - breasts so big that they sank like rising bread between his fingers. He lifted one as La'puit carefully rode, and never breaking eye contact with Etienne, he licked the rigid pink nipple.

La'puit's head fell back and she cried out shrilly. Her sex clenched tight, and as her moisture seeped over him, Etienne gasped and twisted helplessly. He wanted to stop what was happening, wanted to stop them, but couldn't move. And already, he could feel his memories of Azrian slipping away from him. He could barely remember what she looked like. He closed his eyes and tried to hold on, tried to remember her mane, her smile, but the sudden weight of Li'Enlil on his chest forced his eyes open again.

Li'Enlil smiled down at Etienne, his rigid penis right in his face as he straddled him. Behind him, La'puit was still crying out shrilly as she rode, and Etienne twisted his face against the pleasure of her wet, sucking sex.

"Do you know why we created the foxes?" Li'Enlil whispered. He narrowed his eyes on Etienne's face, silently admiring as he touched his thumb to his lip. "Because we wanted to know what head was like."

Before the words could sink in, Etienne was choking on the bird's thick, salty penis. The shaft pulled his lips taunt and prodded the back of his throat, gagging his muffled cries. His eyes squinted up and tears trickled free. With sluggish paws, he tried to reach up, tried to grab the heavy male, but Li'Enlil grabbed his arms and roughly pinned them above his head. His wings spread wide from the motion, and trapped beneath him, Etienne's head was sheathed in what looked like an orange veil. The young god's enclosing wings smelled sweet as his penis, and he thrust himself hard in Etienne's face - thrust until the saliva was dripping down his chin, thrust until the bed was shaking.

Thrust until Etienne forgot.

Everything and everyone.