Work Header

I Put a Spell on You (because you're mine)

Work Text:


Joel knew he was a horndog.

He knew it when he laid the wrong chicks and ended up in fights. He knew it when he got run off by husbands or steady boyfriends because his dick didn't stop to ask if the lady in question was in a committed relationship.  Consenting adults would do whatever consenting adults wanted and, so very pleasurably often, what those consenting adults wanted to do was him. He was never deliberately a homewrecker, but if they were coming on to him, that wasn't his problem, okay? (And sometimes he found out it wasn’t a problem at all, not for the lady and not for her (regular) man, and that was pretty good too.)

Joel took a perverse pride in it, really. He was great at seduction, great in bed, and he tried to make it very, very clear that this was only for fun. He didn't mean any of it seriously, didn't commit to anyone, and he liked to think that he didn't leave a string of broken hearts behind him.

He knew the fucking around was a problem, knew it was the cause of a lot of his little problems in life, but it wasn’t enough to make him want to stop. So what if he had little...confrontations? Like at his favorite bar, or outside his house. Or in the produce section in the grocery store. In line at the bank. Waiting to get his oil changed at the quickie lube joint. Uh...on other dates, which tended to end badly. (On one occasion, his niece’s birthday party. How was he supposed to know one of his exes would show up in a clown suit and try to strangle him with a balloon poodle?) And yet....he didn't see this as a reason to stop what he was doing. Knowing he had a bit of a problem was the first step to fixing a problem, right? So he was at square one and that was fine with him. Self-improvement could kiss his ass.

So. Tonight's problem was that Joel couldn't turn down the idea of a little something between him and Rhea and her sister, Bonnie. Twins, for fuck's sake. Smoking hot identical twins with boobs made in heaven and asses that made him want to come just thinking about. Zack had set the whole thing up, and he could’ve kissed Zack for it, if Zack were so inclined.

"All I have to do is sit in a chair and let them blow me?” said Joel. “Nothing weird? No sextapes or anything, right?"

Zack had nodded enthusiastically. 

"Kick back and relax, just like that, brother, and I'll bring the magic," he said.

It never occurred to Joel that Zack might mean that literally.




It wasn't until he was actually in the chair--a flat pack special that wobbled dangerously when he sat--with the twins' mouths on his dick that he noticed, really noticed, the creepy skulls and candles and scribbly chalk on the floor. This didn't look like a fun little thing to scare the girls, or even something a little on the kinky side. This looked like weird shit, like serious spooky business. (Not that Joel was superstitious or anything, but why risk it? )

"Zack," he said. "What’s going on here, huh?"

Zack smiled a brilliant, toothy smile at him, which was nothing like reassuring.

"Just relax, man," said Zack. "It's just for fun! Remember? You and the girls !" 

Not that he had a lot of brain processing power left, not with Bonnie and Rhea going to town on him, but something seemed off about all this. Sure, Zack could be convincing, but Joel had known the twins forever and they'd never, fooled around with him before. So why now? And why in a creepy basement with all the b-movie trimmings at more or less the stroke of 1am? What the hell was Zack getting out of it? Joel was about ninety-percent sure that there were cameras, somewhere, even though no sextapes was one of the ground rules. Maybe he should stop, though it'd damn near cripple him for the distance he'd have to walk to get safely from this room to his car on the street outside, where he could safely jerk off and restore his sanity.

But then one of the girls did something with her tongue, and the other one grabbed one of his hands and stuck it down her shirt, molding his palm against smooth skin and the warm little rise of a nipple and fuck fuck fuck, it felt like he was coming gallons. Rhea just kept drinking it down like a champ, her mouth milking him for every drop he could give...Or was it Bonnie? ( Shit man, twins! ) The pit of his stomach fluttered with satisfaction. That was it. He couldn't move a muscle. Stick a fork in him because he was fucking done.

Joel slumped in the chair and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Ugh. The basement smelled a little funky, now that he had a moment to really breathe. Maybe it was the candles or something. It was a little sulphur, a little rotten eggs musty, and a lot like his own sweat.

"Not the most auspicious of entrances I have ever had, I must admit."

Joel practically jumped out of his skin at the sound of someone else speaking.

It wasn't Rhea. Not Bonnie. A man’s voice, but not Zack. Shit, had Zack invited someone else to this shitshow?

Speaking of, where was everyone?

A man rose directly in front of him, like he'd been kneeling there, but of course he hadn't been there ten seconds ago, and Joel flopped out of the chair. Fuck it all, a man in a button-down, overgrown dark hair, on-trend nerdy glasses... and, aww man, seriously? Where had this guy come from, and how had he had the awful luck to take a direct hit to the face of Joel's come? Ugh...Joel dredged up the energy to flush with shame.

"Look man," said Joel. "I uh, don't know what happened here, how you got here but man I am so sorry. Shit. Let me find you a towel or something, so we can get you..."

Joel trailed off and felt his eyes trying to pop out of his head.

The man dragged a finger through the mess on his cheek.

"Uh...." said Joel.

He couldn't take his eyes off that sticky finger, especially when the stranger wrapped his tongue around it. The man was a freak. (Was it Joel's imagination or was that tongue crazy long? Nah, couldn't be.)  Joel tore his eyes away, couldn't keep watching that finger return for more cleanup duty, not when the guy seemed to like it so much. He looked frantically for anyone who wasn’t this mystery guy.

Zack was passed out on the floor to Joel's left, more or less where he’d been supervising the action before, but the girls were still nowhere to be seen. Where the shit were Bonnie and Rhea, and what was the fastest way out of here? Joel felt a cold sweat start.

"Hello?" said the man. "Are you quite alright?" 

"Uh, hi?" said Joel. "Yeah, just...fucking dandy?"

He was so proud that he could talk without his voice cracking under the strain, even if he was addressing the collar of the man's shirt. This wasn’t right, not at all. Did this guy have a fetish or something? Had he paid Zack to be here? But how the fuck did he get here anyway? He wouldn’t put it past Zack to have a fucking trap door entrance in the floor just because,  just...Jesus shit he wanted to shake hands.

The man held out a hand to him, and Joel found himself shaking it, just to avoid looking at the guy's face. His hand was narrow, with long fingers and bony knuckles.

"Hello," said the man. "The pleasure's all mine."

The tone of the man's voice was strange, and his fingers skated along Joel’s palm. Creepy, but compelling. Joel made the mistake of looking up then. 

The man's eyes glittered green, his lips glistened, his tongue was pink and neat and, oh crap, it really was as long as Joel'd thought at first glance.

Joel shouldn't have found it hot, but it was, in a mesmerizing kind of way. Definitely Not Normal. He tugged his hand back from that sneaky fucking handshake. (Christ he was a sick fuck.) Joel slid to his feet and tried not to make a big deal about zipping up his pants.

"If you could be so kind," said the man.

He gestured to the chalk lines on the floor.

"Huh?" said Joel.

The man sighed, and those green, green eyes rolled under thick, dark lashes for a moment. 

"Honestly," he said. "I don't understand how you people manage to call me at all."

But Joel’s phone was in his jacket, upstairs. He hadn’t called anyone.

The man reached out a hand, at level with his shoulder and approached the chalk line at the edge of the scribbles and scrawls.


The man's hand rang like a bell in the air, flat against an invisible wall, like he couldn’t get past the chalk lines. Joel might have believed it if there were any kind of obstruction there, but there wasn’t. He just didn't get it. What was the fucking point of this whole game? Showing up out of nowhere and then being creepy-polite. Joel walked right up to the lines, pivoted on one heel, and stabbed his hand in the air right in front of the man. It went through just like you'd fucking expect, okay? He even slid his arm along the man's arm and there was nothing there at all, nothing stopping the man.

The fuck.

The remaining fragments of afterglow washed away with an even sicker feeling in the pit of his stomach. What. The. Fuck. It was way too late to be fucking around like this. Joel wanted to go home now, thank you.

"Why the hell are you here?" said Joel. "Just, shit, man, what the shit is going on?"

"That is exactly my question for you," said the man. "It was your offering, your ceremony, and I cannot leave until we have come to terms."

"Terms?" said Joel.

The man straightened the cuffs of his shirt, then the collar. Clearly completely psycho, and probably a serial killer to boot, which was a shame because Joel could totally appreciate that the man was even hotter, in his way, than the twins were. Shit, shit, where were the twins, anyway?

“Bonnie? Rhea?”

Christ on a cracker, his voice hadn’t broke like that in ten years.

He risked another quick glance at Zack. Still out cold but breathing, thank fuck. Not exactly a witness to all this fuckery, but better than nothing, right? Right?

"I'm afraid," the man said. "That as a lowly incubus, I have little to offer but the carnal pleasures. You might have done better to summon my sister."

Joel nearly choked to death on his own spit.

Insane. Totally, completely insane.

Joel thought, briefly, of all the things he'd never done in his life and how he was never going to finish that chocolate cake in his fridge because he was going to get chopped into itty bitty pieces and probably get scattered across five square miles in the middle of nowhere by this man with the green eyes.

“I don't want anything from you," said Joel. "So uh, thanks but no thanks!"

"No?" said the man. "Your heart is pounding. I think you are lying to me."

The man cocked his head, a thoughtful look on his face. Joel could see the wheels of the crazy train turning in those green eyes of his. The man’s eyes flashed silver, though that had to be just a trick of the light--candles plus glasses equaled weird glare, right?

"It has been a long time since anyone has tried to lie," he said. "It's almost refreshing, if a bit insulting."

Joel broke the offending chalk circle, scuffed it out with the toe of his sneaker. "Hey, see? you're free now. you can know, leave, and I promise I won't call the cops or anything."

“I am afraid our transaction isn’t complete,” said the man.

He frowned.

“But if my form displeases you, I can be accommodating…”

Joel had no way to explain away what he saw next.

The man suddenly had things growing out of him. Long, tentacle-y vines extended from under his skin and moved like they could think--definitely alive, definitely out of the fucking park weird. (Joel needed to cut back on the dirty comics. He swore he’d do it if he just lived through however long it took him to get the fuck out of there.)

One of the vines slithered up his leg, towards his fly. The man before him winked, heavy lidded. 

Joel knocked his chair over trying to get away, but he couldn’t get beyond the light of the candles on the floor, which was only about six inches past the chalk circle. It was like running into an invisible wall, no matter how hard he tried. (Deja vu motherfucker!) The vines just kept coming toward him, relentless, predatory. (No. More. Tentacle. Porn. EVER.)

The man sighed.

“That was unwise of you,” he said. “Whenever you mortals run, it makes me want to chase.”

There was a distinct hiss at the end of that word, and the vines swayed hypnotically. Joel's heart hammered, and fresh sweat broke out across his back.

“What I want now, you see, is to feed,” said the creature--because it wasn’t a man anymore, oh no.

“I will drink you dry, and you will thank me for the pleasure.”

Joel shuddered, mostly out of fear, stuck against a fucking invisible wall, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Even if his stupid dick was acting like something fun was about to happen, his brain kept thinking awful things about rape and dismemberment. Vines, limbs, the caress of hot breath at the back of his neck--this thing would eat him alive. His little lizardy hindbrain was more than convinced that this was danger .

“No,” Joel said, voice gone ragged at the edges.

And everything...stopped. A sound like a flock of pigeons crashed through the room and air rushed past him. No more tentacle vine things rubbing him, no strange, sinuous tongue, no hard, hot hands on him. Joel could almost breathe, as if the stranger wasn’t still looking at him. Was he still looking? Probably. Joel didn’t want to risk the sudden safety and distance by turning around.


He sounded completely puzzled that Joel would say no. Jesus wept, it was like the man had never heard the word before. Something clicked for Joel then, the dimmest of light bulbs going off. What had the man said? An agreement? A trade? Transaction?

“No,” said Joel.

Oh, and didn’t that piss on the guy’s parade.

“What do you want?” said the--man? creature?

Joel didn’t know and he didn’t really care anymore. Whatever it was had gone from full bore seduction to confusion to growling irritation in the time it’d take to toast a slice of bread, and that was scary in a not-fun way.

“I don’t want anything,” said Joel.

He swallowed hard against an awful lump in his throat. It felt like he was choking on sand.

“Well,” said the stranger. “This is indeed a problem. I am bound to the bargain, you see. As are you.”

A sustained ringing was enough to make Joel turn around. Across the circle, the stranger leaned against the solid air that kept both of them from running the fuck out of there.

“See?” he said. “We literally cannot leave until we reach an accord.”

Joel tamped down a stupid joke about Hondas. Pure adrenaline--his self preservation was usually way better than this. His nightmare, worst case scenarios of sex-gone-wrong didn’t even come close to what was happening now, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could rein it in. The twins must have sucked him into a coma or something, cause there was no way in fuck this was real.

“Bonnie and Rhea,” said Joel. “Where did they go?”

“The catalysts?” said the stranger. “ They have been...displaced by my arrival.”

“Can you bring them back?” said Joel.

The man’s eyes glittered, almost feverishly bright, and Joel felt his stomach sink.

“And if I did such a thing, what would you give me in exchange?”

Joel blinked, and the man was right there, had him pressed against the not-there wall. One of his hands spread across Joel's face, tilting him this way and that, assessing.

“ This?” said the man, brushing his other hand over Joel’s chest. One sharp nail dug into his nipple. Joel winced, even as a thrill ran through him.


The long fingers crept up to his throat, stroked against the rough rise of his adams apple and the dip of his pulse point. Joel felt the blood hammering just underneath his skin.

“Or perhaps this?”

The heel of that hand moved, light but very, very sure, to rest against the zipper of Joel’s jeans, and the tips of those fingers...He hadn’t expected to be hard, he really hadn’t, considering how fucked everything was.

“Shit,” said Joel. “I can’t.”

Which apparently translated to convince me in freak talk, because those long fingers followed the zipper to its end, to the seam that ran between his legs. The stranger rubbed a little further along, and a little further back, pressing through denim into the tender skin just…

“There, yes?”

Joel bit his lip against the feeling. Fuck . The stranger’s other hand moved then. He pushed his thumb at the corner of Joel’s mouth, passing over the bitten lip in the middle. That thumb made Joel feel...tingly, lightheaded in a way he hadn’t been before. He noticed the way the stranger’s eyes dilated, looking at him, noticed how their breathing started to match.  His other hand still wormed its way between Joel’s legs and sweet mercy, that felt….

“Ah fuck,” said Joel. “Just, shit.”

“Hmm,” said the man.

The thumb at Joel’s lip pushed a little further, gently prising until Joel opened his mouth for a taste. The tingling feeling spread to his gums and to the tip of his tongue. The man tasted like a spring rain smelled, like a hint of musk, a whiff of smoke, a bit like spice. Otherworldly. The stranger withdrew from Joel’s mouth, and Joel deliberately didn’t chase after it, didn’t pull that thumb back even though he really, really wanted to.

“Do we have a bargain?” said the stranger.

He brushed the back of his hand along Joel’s cheekbone. Joel licked his lips, nervous, and saw the man’s eyes light up. The man bent his head an inch or two, and his tongue shot out to lick a stripe under Joel’s jawbone. His other hand pulled away with a last, lingering stroke.

Joel scrambled to come up with something to say, something to give him just a little more time.

“You have a name?” he said. “I don’t tango with people whose names I don’t know.”

(Oh damn, he was going to say yes, wasn’t he?)

The stranger whispered something directly in his ear, something Joel couldn’t even begin to understand.

“What was that?” said Joel.

The man laughed.

“My name,” he said. “It means something like ‘the eight-fold way of ecstasy’, in your limited language.”

Joel blinked, twice, not sure whether he should feel insulted or grateful that his own name wasn’t something equally complicated.

“But you can call me Octavius, if you like. From your Latin tongue.”

Joel felt the man’s lips curve against his skin, and a hint of that warm tongue, like it was all some kind of joke. Maybe it was--fuck if Joel knew.

“Do we have a bargain?”

“One fuck,” said Joel. “No, uh…”

(I will drink you dry, and you will thank me for the pleasure.)

“I just wanna go home after, got it?” he said.

His mouth was parched.

“ know.”

Joel wiggled his fingers and tried not to think about tentacles.

Octavius laughed, flashing a lot of very white, very sharp-looking teeth.

“Very well,” he said. “One time, and your lost friends will be returned. I shall do my best not to damage you, though you are enticing.”

Joel had a burning feeling, deep in his stomach. He so did not want to encourage the thought of playing rough. Jesus shit, he just wanted this to be over so he could go home and drink himself into a coma, convince himself that none of this was real.

“So do we shake hands or what?” said Joel.

Octavius laughed again.

“We could join in something far more pleasurable than that,” he said. “A kiss, perhaps.”

Joel barely nodded before Octavius was upon him, probing his tongue deep and spreading that shiver-inducing tingle. As Octavius pulled back, Joel felt something warm settle in his chest.

“There,” said Octavius.

“Huh?” said Joel.

He looked around and saw that the candles had blown themselves out. Cautiously, he poked the empty air--his hand pushed beyond where it had been stuck before. The hell?

“I told you,” said Octavius. “Bound by the bargain.”

Without really thinking about it, Joel booked it for the exit. He made it as far as the second stair before hard, strong arms grabbed him from behind, cutting off his air and pulling him backward. Joel wheezed hard.

“You didn’t think you’d get away so easily, surely,” said Octavius.

Joel could feel that narrow chest expanding and contracting, pressed against his back.

“It’s like you wanted me to chase you,” said Octavius. “Perhaps I’ve been too soft with you.”

Joel found himself lifted up, turned, then crushed against the stairwell wall. He couldn’t move. His left foot landed one stair higher than the right, which spread his legs apart just a little and left him exposed and out of unbalance. Octavius, still keeping Joel pinned with his torso, pulled his arms out from against the wall. He pushed his hips flush against Joel’s butt, and okay, hey, Octavius was pretty fucking hard. Shit. Joel groaned.

“Oh yes,” said Octavius. “I thought as much.”

Joel felt a strong hand land on the back of his neck, just above the shoulders. He was still tight to the wall this way, still unable to move if he wanted to keep breathing. Octavius’s other hand snuck in between the wall and Joel’s hips, stopping his dick from getting mashed against the plaster. Those long fingers had him caged. Shit. Joel did his best not to move into that touch, but it didn’t matter whether he moved towards the wall or away from the body pressed flush against him; Octavius was gently kneading him through his jeans and it felt fan-fucking-tastic. Joel turned his head and panted.

“Shit,”said Joel. “Fuck, Octavius.”

The bastard laughed at him, then ground against him, a deliciously hard, unforgiving move that forced Joel’s dick even more deeply against his palm. Joel yelped. Octavius bit him on the neck then, and he moaned.

“So sweet,” said Octavius. “I want to feast on you, make you beg.

He soothed the bite with his tongue, washed it, caressed it until Joel couldn’t stand how sensitive it was, couldn't help a whimper and a rub forward against the fingers that held him. Octavius gave him a firm squeeze.

“Yeah,” said Joel. “Oh fuck, yeah.”

“Will you behave?” said Octavius.

Joel nodded. His head felt loose on his neck, and his knees were getting rubbery. He hoped that he could sit or something before they gave out. (Before he came in his pants like some horny teenager dry-humping to the finish line.)

“Good,” said Octavius.

Again, he frotted up against Joel, swiveling hard against the crease of his ass. He rolled his hand one last time against the crotch of Joel’s jeans and then was still. Joel held his breath and tried not to think about coming.

“There’s a bed upstairs,” Joel said, after a minute or two of just standing there catching his breath. He was still on the edge of painfully hard.

“All right,” said Octavius.

He tugged Joel away from the wall.

Joel could feel Octavius staring at him, specifically at his ass, as they climbed upward. It made him even more nervous--whoever this guy really was, he was intense . Not that he was really like this. Of course magic was fake and incubuses (incubi?) were fake and Joel had to be lying on a floor somewhere, concussed or out cold and all of this was some ridiculous fantasy his hormone riddled brain was generating. Joel wasn’t against a bit of roleplay, but why would his subconscious make Octavius?

The bed in Zack’s second bedroom sure as fuck felt real, though. Joel barely had time to peel back the covers before Octavius was on him, insistent, stripping Joel bare and arranging him against the sheets. Almost before he could blink, Octavius had him completely naked and had one of his glorious, long-fingered hands on Joel’s (stupid, idiot) dick. Joel sucked in a quick breath of air.

“Damn,” he said. “Lemme just--”

While Octavius jerked him slow and hard and just at the edge of too rough, Joel fumbled with the button on Octavius’s slacks. He popped it just as Octavius’s thumb did a beautiful little dip and swirl that had him seeing stars. Joel shuddered and came all at once, striping Octavius’s hand, the sheets and blankets, and everything in between. He went soft, and Octavius released him.

“Well fuck,” Joel said.

It was kind of a disappointing finish, if he was being honest with himself.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I….”

Octavius was licking his fingers, one by one. His pants hung obscenely low, just shy of falling off through gravity alone, and his dick was just doing its thing, hanging in there but definitely, definitely hard.

Joel felt his belly twist. It wasn’t physically possible to be hard again yet. (He kinda wished it was. He’d like to get both of them together in his hands. Yeah. Hotness.)

“I could suck you off,” said Joel. “If you wanna, I mean.”

So shoot him, he was a generous kind of guy. Not that he gave a lot of blowjobs, but he liked to think he did a decent job of it.

“I would enjoy that,” said Octavius. “Fucking your mouth, coming inside of you.”

Joel was happy-sweating just thinking about it. He tossed a pillow on the floor.

“Sit on the bed for me, yeah,” he said. “Like that.”

He slithered off the bed and knelt on the pillow, more or less at eye level with Octavius’s crotch, once Octavius sat. Joel yanked at the legs of his pants, stripping them back a little more and leaving Octavius exposed, with plenty of room to do his thing. Gently, he took Octavius in hand. Damn, he was big like this. Joel felt a flutter of uncertainty then. He delayed for a minute, easing the pants all the way off with maybe just a little more care than strictly necessary.

“Joel,” said Octavius.

Joel looked up. Those green eyes were down to a scrim of color at the edge, swallowed by the blackness of fully opened pupils, and a hot flush had stamped itself across his cheeks, neck, and down into his chest. Why the fuck did Octavius still have his shirt on? (Albeit unbuttoned almost to his navel.) His glasses were nowhere to be seen. Joel took the shirt off for him too. Fuck he looked good in nothing but his sweating skin.

“I want you so badly,” said Octavius. “I want your touch, your mouth, and anything you give to me. I would bury myself in you and never leave.”

It was like his voice went straight to the sex part of Joel’s brain.

Joel leaned forward and sucked as much as he could into his mouth and let himself be filled.

Octavius groaned, and his hands wrapped themselves into Joel’s hair, scratching his nails against scalp. Joel fought to breathe around the flesh in his mouth.

“Yes,” said Octavius. “Oh yes.”

Joel backed off a little, breathing hard through his nose, and went back again, a little deeper, a little harder, trying to relax before Octavius had him gagging. His mouth was so full it was almost all he could do to flatten his tongue around Octavius, trying to stretch it out and touch all he could. His lungs started to burn.

Joel pulled off for another deep breath.

“Won't hurt my feelings any if you, you know, pull my hair in the heat of the moment,” he said. “just try not to yank it out, yeah?”

Shit man, he hadn’t blushed over something that dumb in a long time. He went back to business just so he wouldn't have to look Octavius in the eye.

“I see,” said Octavius.

His fingers tightened just right, and Joel would have sighed if he could have. Nice. Fucking nice. He slid up and down in increments, an inch here and there, feeling Octavius get slick and slippery. Little bitter notes on his tongue told him that Octavius was into it, deeply. Joel pulled back almost all the way, until just the head was in his mouth. He sucked hard, pressing his tongue into the very tip, and Octavius moaned. Octavius thrust forward, bumping against the roof of Joel's mouth and pressed there. Joel felt that flesh jerk and pulse twice before withdrawing completely, leaving a sharp bitter taste behind.

“Joel,” said Octavius. “Oh, Joel. I want your mouth as I come.”

Joel took hold of Octavius’s dick again and rubbed the head against his lips. Octavius shuddered and a fresh little spurt wet his skin. Joel licked it clean.

“Yeah,” said Joel. “Fuck yeah, want you on me, in me, whatever you want.”

He opened his mouth and Octavius shoved in, hard and fast enough that Joel choked just a little when Octavius hit the back of his mouth. His hands shifted, holding Joel’s head in place, digging in at the cheekbones with his thumbs. The rest of his fingers clawed at his hair and scalp for purchase. He fucked into Joel's mouth, out and in, in and out, controlling the depth with rough jerks of his hands. Nothing too painful, just...fuck, it was gold. Pure gold.

Suddenly Octavius shoved deep. He groaned. Joel felt his dick pulsing, felt the hot come trickling down his throat and coating the back of his tongue. Joel swallowed around him, trying not to cough and to hold his breath just a little longer, just a little more,  fighting the urge to pull away and riding it out with the tiniest breath of air through his nostrils.

Octavius let him go about five seconds before Joel thought he’d choke to death. Joel gasped for air. He coughed a bit, sucked wind, coughed some more. His eyes watered and he swiped at them with his knuckles. The taste of Octavius was heavy in his mouth. (He thought he might have gotten it all the way up his throat and into his sinuses. Shit.)

At last, Joel could breathe again. He leaned back, stretching his spine.

“Damn I’m good,” he said.

And so what if his voice was pretty rough? He’d live.

Octavius laughed, and Joel’s eyes shot to him. Yeah, he looked pretty pleased with him too.

“I would ask if you are all right,” said Octavius. “you seem to be fine, despite my...enthusiasm.”

Joel snorted.

“A warning would’ve been nice, but I’m okay,” he said. How’re you doing?”

His train of thought ground to a halt when he looked at Octavius’s dick..

“you’re uh, still hard,” Joel said. “Uh. Damn.”

If anything, Octavius looked even harder than before. That had to be painful.

“Your mouth was very nice,” said Octavius. “But I believe your words fuck?”

“Oh you have got to be shitting me,” said Joel.

Octavius frowned, looking a bit confused.

“The agreement is what it is,” he said.

That blowjob sure as fuck had felt like fucking to Joel, especially at the end.

Octavius knelt on the floor beside him. Joel could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“I will make it so good for you,” Octavius said. “Your body already craves it, see?”

His hand stroked Joel’s dick, brushed against his balls. Christ, he was hard too, now, and he ached with that simple touch.

Octavius kissed him. His tongue dipped into Joel’s mouth and swept along his tongue, leaving behind a sweet, spicy taste that blended with the bitterness of his come into something absolutely mouthwatering.

Joel found himself nodding.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah. Just a quick one.”




Octavius wasn’t fast. He moved so slow Joel thought he would pop with anticipation. 

First, Octavius arranged him on the bed with languid strokes to his nipples, his neck, the backs of his knees. Joel moaned and spread his legs.

“More, come on,” he said. “You’re killing me here.”

Octavius dipped his head between Joel’s legs and gave a fleeting lick to the very crown of his dick. He pushed Joel’s thighs further apart and held his legs open. He bent down and sucked at the skin at the base of his shaft, then lower.

“Shit,” said Joel.

(Was he really going to? Yes, yes he was.)

Octavius’s mouth closed, ever so gently, over his balls, sucking one in, then both. Joel groaned. His tongue was fucking magic. Hot wet, licking everywhere. He could come from just this.

Octavius released him and Joel groaned in protest.

“Now now,” said Octavius. “There’s so much more to come.”

He sucked at the tip of Joel’s dick, then licked his way back up Joel’s chest. He bit his jaw, just under the ear.

“But if you do have to come, if you are helpless to stop,” Octavius said.

His voice went directly to joel’s brain again. His hand played idly up and down Joel’s length.

“Then what?”

Was that his voice? When had he ever sounded like that?

“I’d suck it right out of you,” Octavius whispered. “And when you were done, Id keep my mouth on you, keep you in my throat, lave and worship you over and over until you were hard again.”

Joel’s hips jerked and he felt himself give one spurt. Octavius smeared it over the head.

“And then,” he said.

“Then?” said Joel.

Octavius licked his lips, let his tongue wander over Joel’s mouth.

“I’d do it all over again.”

Octavius moved back down between Joel’s legs again, leaving Joel in a haze of want. He lay there for a moment, thinking unspecific thoughts about how he was not coming again, not yet. Octavius licked between his ass cheeks, and Joel startled.

“Whoa,” he said. “ wait a second, that’s not what--”

A second, longer lick had him biting his own wrist to stop from shouting.

“It’s not something I said I wouldn't do,” said Octavius. “And it’s such a pleasant way to prepare you.”

He sounded so mild, so reasonable about doing that.

Joel found himself speechless. And then moaning. Then chanting yes yesyesyes . He sweated rivers and swore. The feel of Octavius's tongue washed over him, spread him open, wriggled and thrust through him. With hardly a touch to the rest of him, Joel came all over himself. Octavius pinned him down at the hips, wiped the come off of him (oh fuck his fucking fingers, that tongue ) and just kept going .




Joel didn't know how much more he could take, didn't know how Octavius hadn't died or exploded from holding it back so long. His body was on fire, all centered in his balls and his dick and his solar plexus and in his very relaxed , very ready hole. If something didn't happen soon he was going to cry.

“Jesus,” he said, “Fuck. Just fucking DO me.”

His breath rasped in his chest.

“Lube,” he said. “My jeans.”

Joel cried out when Octavius pulled back. He felt himself twitch in the air, wet with saliva.

“You look so good like this,” said Octavius. “spread and waiting. But I think you’ve waited enough, yes?”

Joel moaned. The feeling of a long finger slipping into him was such a relief.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just like that, oh fuck , yeah.”

Two fingers delivered a payload of lube that melted inside him, and he lost a few--seconds? Minutes?--to the luxurious feel of Octavius’s knuckles sliding in and out. He nudged Octavius with his knee.

“Now,” Joel said.

Octavius replaced his fingers with the far more substantial flesh of his erection. Joel’s legs quivered. His heart pounded and fresh sweat trickled across his hairline and down behind his ears. Octavius seated himself completely in one long, steady push that sent lightning up Joel’s spine, and fuck, was it fucking good.

Joel let his breath out all at once.

“Fuck,” he said. “Just...fuck.”

“Yes,” said Octavius. “Let’s fuck.”

Joel started to laugh.

“Man, who talks like--”

Octavius rolled his hips and Joel threw his head back.

“Shit,” he said.

He panted, open mouthed. Octavius bracketed his hips with his hands and thrust again.

“Shit yeah,” said Joel.

He hooked his ankles over Octavius’s shoulders and wriggled forward just a little which, fuck, felt even better.

“Yeah,” he said. “Like that, fuck.”

Joel grabbed himself and gave a nice long stroke. He’d been hard for a while now, had been stoked high by Octavius’s hands and mouth this whole time, and it felt like forever since he’d come. It wasn't going to take much more. Octavius gave another, brutally thorough push forward and back, and Joel shouted.

“Again,” he said.

Joel bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, bracing himself. Octavius surged forward, pulled all the way out and back again, one smooth, rolling thrust after another. Joel planted one elbow against the mattress to keep steady. He played up and down his dick with his free hand. With every passing second, Joel spiraled higher, got sloppier and faster.

“Oh fuck,” he said. “More, fuck, just a little more.”

The feel of Octavius spearing into him one more time was enough. Joel’s hand slid freely through his come as he milked every last spasm out that he could, prolonging it, savoring the tight clench he had on Octavius, who was still hard inside him.

Fuck. That was it. Joel let his hand drop away. He was completely wrung out. He flopped back against the mattress, and Octavius slid out of him.

“Give me your hand,” said Octavius.

“Huh?” said Joel.

It was the first time Octavius had sounded anything but cool and collected. Joel craned his neck to look him in the eye.

Fuck, Octavius looked desperate around the edges. Joel held out his hand.

Octavius cradled his wrist and took a long lick.

“Yes,” he said.

He took another lick. And another. He lapped Joel’s hand clean, searching out every trace of come he could find, and with each lick he made tiny little thrusts back into Joel.

“Shit man,” said Joel. “Still not finished, huh?”

Funnily, Octavius flushed across his cheekbones.

“I could leave,” he said.

Joel considered the hard flesh piercing him. He was a bit sensitive, but he wasn’t hurting, and Octavius had to be by now. Has to be . He lowered his legs.

“I can’t fucking get it up again so I’m staying put,” he said. “But you’ve gotta be dying.”

Joel rolled over and looked back over his shoulder.

“You can still fuck me, though.”

Octavius licked his lips and his eyes flashed hot.

“How magnanimous,” he said. “Tell me if it becomes too much for you.”

With that, he was all over Joel again, licking, biting, touching every inch of him. He pushed Joel this way and that, turning him onto his side. Joel groaned when Octavius spread him again and plunged in. He spooned against Joel, his thick length burrowed deep in Joel’s ass. Joel sighed a shaky kind of sigh. He might not be hard, might not come again, but it still felt pretty damn good. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a fucking this thorough and had lasted this long. (Maybe when he was a teenager and could get hard over and over all afternoon. A fucking breeze would have had him ready to rumble, but he was years away from that. Or so he had thought.)

Octavius mouthed the back of his neck. Joel shivered. Octavius bit gently, then sucked. He rocked against Joel, barely moving, but Joel could feel his balls twitching against the crease where his butt met his thighs.

“Soon,” whispered Octavius. “You can feel it too, can’t you?”

Joel groaned. Octavius bent Joel’s top leg at the knee.

“Cross your legs,” said Octavius. “Just like that, yes.”

Joel had one leg flat against the bed. The other angled across it so that the sole of his foot rested on the mattress, and his ankle leaned against his thigh, not quite perpendicular to the rest of his body. The position spread his ass further, left his balls and the cleft of his cheeks exposed to the air. Joel's dick twitched in interest. Un fucking believable.

Octavius ground against him, moaning.

“So good, he said. “Oh. You’re so good.”

He pulled out and slid back in, plastering himself even closer against Joel's back. Joel moaned. Fucking a. Long fingers stroked against him, skated down and around where Octavius penetrated, to the oh so tender skin behind his balls. Joel shuddered. The tip of a finger hooked inward, angled just enough for steady pressure. Joel jerked backwards. Though his dick was still soft, a little drop of come slid out of him.

“Yes,” said Octavius. “Beautiful.”

He forced his other arm under and around Joel’s waist, which put his fingers within reach of the head of Joel’s cock. Octavius swiped at the droplet. Another press behind Joel’s balls, another finger tracing through the resulting wetness. Joel panted.

“I promised to drink you dry,” said Octavius. “Everything you give to me, I will take.”

Octavius massaged hard and insistent and in perfect time with another thrust. Joel cried out.

A small stream of come flooded out of his dick, pulsing with each push of the wicked fingers prying into him from the outside, leaking onto Octavius’s waiting hand. Joel watched him rub his fingers together. Octavius dragged his arm up and across Joel’s chest. His long tongue reached out to touch his fingertips, and Joel shut his eyes against the sticky sound of Octavius licking his hand. His skin shivered at Octavius’s hot breath against his ear.

Octavius removed his hand from the skin between Joel’s legs. Now he snaked over Joel’s hip, sure and exquisitely gentle, closing around his dick, which was in a tenuous middle ground of not exactly hard. Joel sucked in a breath of air. It was too close to too much. He opened his mouth to protest. Octavius slid two fingers, still wet with saliva, over Joel’s lips.

“Ssh,”  said Octavius. “Soon, so soon.”

He crooned into Joel’s ear as he moved one hand up and down and the other back and forth. Octavius canted his hips, slid easily in and out, in and out. Joel moaned and took a stuttering breath in the space between Octavius’s fingers. He was so sensitive, too sensitive. Octavius’s thumbnail scored across the head of his dick.

“Fuck,” shouted Joel.

He felt his balls lift, trying to come, but he didn’t have anything left to give. His belly quaked and his insides rippled. Joel squeezed down hard around Octavius with each spasm. He lay there, quivering and panting like he’d just finished a race. It was almost an afterthought, almost like nothing at all, when Octavius rutted into him one last time and came. His warmth spread into Joel. His heart beat through his chest against Joel’s back.

Octavius pulled out abruptly, and Joel winced.

“Our bargain is complete,” Octavius said. “Your catalysts--the women you so worried about--are returned, unharmed. You will find them asleep next to the other one downstairs.”

Joel lay there and struggled to process. Octavius got dressed quickly, like he hadn’t just fucked the everloving shit out of someone, like this was business as usual.

“So this is it, huh?” said Joel. “Wham, bam, thank you ma'am?”

He shivered at the look on Octavius’s face; Octavius looked through him, somehow.

“You were satisfied?”  

It wasn’t a question, exactly, but Joel still wasn’t sure of the answer.

“Sort of,” he said. “I guess?”

“Then it is as I said,” said Octavius. “Our bargain is complete.”

He buttoned up his shirt and put his glasses back on.

As he did up the fly of his pants, he glanced at Joel again.

“I found it quite satisfactory myself,” he said.

His smile was absolutely predatory as he stalked back to the bed. Joel scrambled backward as best as he could with legs made of jelly and a heart doing triple time.

Octavius, fast as a flash, dropped a kiss in the middle of Joel’s forehead.

“But perhaps you’d do best to sleep this off,” Octavius said.

Joel unaccountably found himself yawning so hard his jaw popped. His eyelids just wouldn’t stay up any more.

“The fuck are you? Really,” said Joel. “Fuck like nothing I’ve ever seen...”

“Ssh,” said Octavius. “Sleep. It’s not often a mortal lasts so long with one of mine.”

Joel fought to stay awake, fought to hold onto his anger and doubts, but he was wrapped in cotton and floating away.

“Oh yes,” Octavius hissed. “ Quite satisfactory.”

The glowing silver and green of Octavius’s eyes spiraled down with Joel into the darkness.




Joel was a horndog who had been hit by a truck.

As he woke, he felt all the aches and pains of a good night out, but he couldn’t exactly remember who he’d spent it with. He’d woken up hungover enough times to recognize Zack’s spare bedroom, though. The stain on the ceiling looked like boobs when you were pathetic and squinting against the savage light of day.

Pain shot up his ass when he sat up.

“Fuck,” Joel said.

Well, that kind of answered the what, if not exactly who. Women, even women with toys, never quite went to town that hard, in his experience. And the awful taste in his mouth...yep. That was morning breath mixed with post-blowjob funk.

He eased himself fully upright and made his way gingerly to the bathroom. Joel used all the hot water scrubbing himself clean, and Zack’s impressive shower jets pounded away most of the aches and pains. Joel swished with the listerine that sat beside the sink. He almost felt like a new person by the time he toweled off and got dressed in last night’s clothes.

Joel drew the line at stealing Zack’s deodorant, cause gross, but his clothes had picked up a weird spicy smell, maybe a cologne overspray or something. It smelled pretty nice, actually. Kind of like the air during a rainstorm, but also kind of like spice drops? He shrugged.

The coffee pot in the kitchen had lukewarm dregs in it, but it was coffee so he drank it. Joel got three texts in a row while perched on one of Zack’s shitty flat pack chairs:  two identical winking smileys followed ‘thx 4 th gud time’ (oh yeah, the twins, fuck, that had been hot. Too bad they had to run so early.) and one from Zack, telling him to lock the fucking door when he went. Joel snorted. As if Zack had anything worth stealing.

Joel dumped his empty mug in the sink and threw the lock before he shut the door. He stuck his phone back in his jacket pocket. Weird, he didn’t remember having a business card in there, but there was definitely something there now.

“Zack, you idiot,” he said.

Only Zack was dumb enough to call sneaking business cards into peoples’ pockets a marketing strategy.  Joel snorted. Which would be this time? The amateur videographer card, or the Mighty Pomegranate’s Amazing Illusions one?

Joel pulled it out to shred it, but when he saw it, he stopped. It wasn’t one of Zack’s.

The front side had a curled fern, kind of like an old illustration in a book.  It had eight intricately detailed leaflets branching off the stem. The back of it had a phone number, written in a spidery hand, and a few words. Joel squinted at it and turned it towards the bright sunlight.

“Satisfaction guaranteed?” Joel said.

Someone had signed it, but the writing was smudged: he could make out an O at the beginning, but the rest of it was gone. Joel turned it over in his hands a couple more times, but that was all that was on it. He returned it to his pocket, feeling the deep imprint of the fern in the paper.

A sudden breeze whipped down the street and he shivered. Joel zipped his jacket a little higher and frowned.

That smell! The weird cologne seemed to be coming from his hands now. He inhaled deeply, trying to place it. It was familiar, but where? Who? He traced the spiral shape on the card again, considering.

Had he gone to a bar last night, after Bonnie and Rhea left? Or maybe he and Zack split some of Zack’s criminally potent homebrew? Joel blanched at the thought that he and Zack might have fucked. Ugh. Nope. Couldn’t be. If nothing else, Zack would have stuck around just to gloat about his magical, irresistible charms. He could almost remember a voice, a face, but every time he thought he had it, it slid away from him. Definitely not Zack though.

( I want to feast on you, make you beg. )

“What?” said Joel.

He looked around but no one was there. Just him and a whole lot of dead leaves skittering around in the breeze. Weird. He fingered the business card, thoughtful, corner to corner and back again.

“Ah shit,” Joel said.

He yanked his hand out of his pocket and sucked furiously on the webbing between his thumb and index finger. Papercut, courtesy of the strange business card. It hurt like bastard. For that, he wouldn’t even take the card home. Crumple and toss it in the gutter, yeah, that would show it what for.

Joel fished the card out one last time, glanced at the fern and the phone number and--a dim light bulb went off in his head.

“Satisfaction guaranteed!” said Joel.

Oh fuck. This card...belonged to whoever rode him like a merry go round last night. It had to. He still was fuzzy on the details, but he half-remembered it now. Some guy that Zack knew had come over. (Goddamn it, Zack had to stop trying to pimp him! Let him make deals with his own bod, for fuck’s sake) And from there….

Joel stared at the card, wracking his brain for clues. He coughed.

“What the fuck.”

The card didn’t say satisfaction guaranteed any more, even though it definitely had before. Joel’s memory wasn’t that shitty.

In that same scratchy writing, it said something else entirely, something that had his mouth dry as a bone and the blood running south in less than a second. Joel crushed the card in one hand, the words burned into his thoughts.

Make me beg for you like you begged for me.

Joel took a deep breath and grabbed for his phone. He punched in the numbers and listened to the ring purring in his ear. It sounded kind of distorted, like it was coming from really far away, but a connection was a connection.

At last, the other end of the call picked up. The line crackled. Joel took a breath and spoke into the silence.