At a Party

The air was heavy around him, for smells both familiar and exotic. Rose and jasmine and lavender he knew, but the Boy couldn't quite discern the rest. The tall woman, the kind and pretty one who'd invited him here, smiled as his eyes met hers.

"Remember," she'd told him earlier, "to mind your manners." The Boy smiled shyly back and nodded his head to avert his gaze. Everyone here was so fancy, he felt out of place in these fine borrowed clothes.

"Good evening, my Lady," he said softly. "Thank you again for letting me come to your party." The woman laughed, and it sounded like silver bells in a spring breeze.

"Oh, my dear little one, it would hardly be worth throwing without you... do come in." Her silk-gloved hand took his, and she led him deeper into the room. String and woodwinds he couldn't quite see played a merry waltz, one the Boy felt must have been familiar but that he was sure he'd never heard, and a few dozen people danced in pairs. Some stragglers around the sides, who'd been talking amongst themselves or drinking from silver cups, took notice of him. He smiled politely, feeling awkward. Don't be so feeble, he thought to himself. I'm Lady Aster's guest, I shouldn't embarrass her, after she was so nice to me... A handsome young man with long auburn hair approached. He looked a few years older than the Boy.

"Well, my Lady, who might this be! Not often we see a new face... a guest of yours, I trust?"

"He is." Lady Aster released the Boy's hand and laid hers upon his shoulder. "And a very special one, at that, Viscount. You'll be glad for his company."

"Oh? Special, huh? Not a Tamlin, is he?" The Viscount looked curiously at the Boy, whose brows furrowed with confusion. He wasn't sure if there was anything truly special about him. He'd only met Lady Aster by luck, walking back home from the well...

"Goodness, no. You think I'd risk rioting in the slums for something like that? Have some trust." Lady Aster reached a hand out and tugged playfully at the Viscount's ponytail. "Anyway, no need to confuse the poor boy." She glanced the Boy's way and paused when she noticed he seemed to be hesitating to speak. "Oh... have you something to say, my dear? Do speak..."

"W-what's a 'Tamlin,' my Lady?" He realized as he asked that he felt terribly stupid. Lady Aster and the Viscount were both quiet for a moment before laughing. Her hand moved from his shoulder to stroke his hair.

"Oh, just the absolute lowest kind of person, my little one. Nothing you need worry about. Ah- Lady Hawthorne, would you clear a spot? I've brought you a little something..." The Boy was led across the room among the crowd, and he shivered at Lady Aster's glove brushing against his skin as her hand moved down to the back of his neck. The Viscount walked alongside. "Anyway, dear Viscount, what do you take me for? I'd never bring a Tamlin to a place like this, could you imagine? Why, they're hardly better than the humans they once were."

The music was terribly loud, now.

"Oh I'm sure, my Lady, but one must always expect something novel from you." The Boy wanted to stop walking, but the thought of the silky fingers gripping tightly into his neck filled him with a strange terror. The high, ruffled collar of his shirt, the kind he'd seen noblemen wear, was suddenly stifling in the thickly-perfumed air. His head was empty of possible meanings for what Lady Aster was talking about, and he dared not try and jump to conclusions, so...

"My Lady, what exactly did you m-" The Boy's voice was cut off by a single sharp fingertip digging into his neck. Lady Aster looked down at him with an expression he didn't understand.

"Only when spoken to, my little one." Her fingernail, still covered, scratched gently as she readjusted to a softer grip, but suddenly her hand was very cold, as if pulling the warmth from his skin. "It is such a pretty voice, though... I'll make great use of it. Payment in full for that first favor you owe me."

The Boy turned, despite the points of her nails, and stared at her, his eyes now pleading large.

"You did thank me for the invitation, which means I've done you a favor. And you thanked me again for allowing you inside. And I do hate to leave you in debt, for as we all know, a debtor's no kind of person at all." The Boy's adrenaline finally kicked in just in time for him to try to shout in indignation, to cry out for mercy or another chance, to scream in fury. But nothing came out at all, and the rapid pounding of his heart played double time under the music that filled the room. Dimly in the back of his mind, the Boy realized he had not attempted to fight his way out. But somehow, the desperate clamor in his head did not translate to action, even now. Instead, the tense compulsion to move, the rattling of nerves under his skin, went unheeded, and he continued to walk until he was led to a low platform, capable now only of trembling.

"These fine clothes don't suit this creature of yours, my Lady. Surely you only lent them, yes?" Lady Hawthorne was just as beautiful as Lady Aster, with bright blue eyes and flower petal lips. But her expression was that of shrewd appraisal, and the Boy felt himself shake harder.

"Naturally. But now, of course, I tire of being owed..." A snap of her fingers, and the Boy gasped silently as he felt hands from behind him tugging at his clothes. Dozens of pairs of eyes gazed at him, and even the dancers slowed in their movements to turn and look with interest. The fine brocade justacorps was yanked from his shoulders and he squirmed wildly while the hands from behind him reached around to work at the buttons of his waistcoat. He turned to look for his assailant, only for a silk-gloved hand to grip his face and pull his gaze forward. Lady Aster stared into his eyes and did not blink.

"My Lady, you did say I'd be glad for his company, did you not?" The Viscount hovered behind her, looking at the Boy with a vague look of interest.

"Of course, dear Viscount. But wouldn't you like a look at him, before I give ownership of his debt to your household? If you'll forgive my frankness, you've never needed your possessions to be new." She smiled at the Boy, seeming to pay no attention to his struggling, and stroked his face with her other hand as his clothes continued to be torn away. "But what a sweet-looking little creature, I may want to hang onto him just a little longer... Surely you don't mind?"

"I'd never deny a chance to offer you generosity, my Lady. By all means, take your time." The Boy thrashed wildly now, no longer listening and now finally kicking blindly as the breeches were ripped from his legs. But his flailing limbs were quickly caught by hands far too strong for their size, and his wrists were bound behind his naked waist by a strange, warm force that held him like rope. The unseen magic spread to his ankles, binding his bare feet to the floor shoulder width apart.

"Oh, he is a pretty one... you have such excellent taste, my Lady," another woman giggled, playfully batting her hand at Lady Aster's arm. "Sometimes I think we shouldn't bother bringing humans into the Faewilds at all, but you always seem to win me over..."

"You flatter me, Lady Iris..." Lady Aster stepped back to assess the Boy properly, and he felt the strength leave him as her eyes, and the eyes of the others, scanned over his bare frame. The air was just cold enough to make the hair on his arms and legs stand on end, and he felt his testicles pull up slightly in the open air. "But you know, as lovely as this body is intact..." She approached again, and the Boy felt fear pooling in the pit of his stomach. Lady Aster pulled the glove from her hand and ran her bare fingertips up his smooth, flat stomach. "I think I'm feeling especially generous today. Would anybody like to play with him? The Viscount breaks his toys, after all, so now is the best time, I'm sure..."

The Boy thrashed again, snapping his teeth in a feeble attempt to protect himself, and with a snap of her fingers, Lady Aster conjured more binding magic, holding his head back and gagging his mouth.

"Lively little creature, isn't he...?" She removed her other glove and groped at his chest, her soft hands pushing gentle pressure into his skin. "But really, he's docile as a lamb..." Her hand trailed down his body again, and she stepped to his side to reach her other hand behind him to grab one of his buttocks, her thumb reaching to the cleft between and spreading his ass for just a moment before releasing it. The Boy's body stiffened up at the violation, and he squirmed again as the hand at his front wrapped around his flaccid cock and pulled it gently forward, as if inspecting. "Not much yet, but we'll see."

Curiosity largely sated, the crowd fell slowly back into casual, boisterous party chatter as a dozen or so interested people gathered around. A nobleman who'd been watching from the crowd stepped forward, and after a few whispered words between him and Lady Aster, he stepped around and behind the Boy as she moved to the front of him, with one hand on his shoulder and the other groping again at his chest. She idly toyed with one of his nipples, and it was nearly enough to distract the Boy from the sound of the man behind him undoing his own breeches.

A pair of large hands, well-manicured with soft skin, roughly gripped the Boy's hips, adjusting his posture, and he tried once again in vain to scream as he felt something bump up against his ass. Lady Aster just smiled again at him, and moved her hand from his chest to between his legs.

The pain of sudden penetration was like nothing the Boy had ever experienced, and he gasped a rough inhale, muffled and voiceless, as the nobleman's cock pushed its way unceremoniously inside him. Lady Aster braced the Boy's shoulders and slowly began stroking his cock, breathing out the slightest laugh as he struggled weakly.

"You've got a talent, my lady. Hard to find such a pretty lad who's still got a tight virgin hole like this..."

"Isn't it just? But this one doesn't lie with men... or hadn't, at least." Tears pricked at the corners of the Boy's eyes as the thrusts behind him, inside him, increased to a steady pace. The pain was searing, as though he'd been torn open. But as hard as his legs shook and as much as it hurt, his cock hardened all the same in Lady Aster's hand. He bit down on the magic gag between his teeth, and it reshaped itself unsatisfyingly within his mouth.

"My Lady, do you mind if I have a go, as well? Though I'd hate to push you aside, of course..." A woman with long, golden hair approached at Lady Aster's side.

"Oh, it's of no consequence to me. That's what he's for, of course." Lady Aster smiled and put her gloves back on, after wiping her hands off with a handkerchief. The other woman knelt down in front of the Boy and ran her hands up his shaking inner thighs. The man behind him continued pumping away, now breathing slightly heavily. Tears finally ran down the Boy's cheek as he felt a warm, soft mouth wrap around his cock, sliding slowly back and forth. Was this what was to become of him? Nothing but a voiceless novelty, a toy for these people, who weren't even human? Would they kill him, devour him?

Or worse, would they keep him alive? The Viscount breaks his toys...

The nobleman finished inside the Boy and pulled slowly out with a sigh, and the Boy felt an aching void inside him match with the sinking emptiness in his chest. But his knees continued to shake at the unwanted waves of pleasure from the mouth wrapped around him, and without meaning to, he twitched his hips forward.

"Goodness, what a beast! Even now, he's a slave to his urges, isn't he!"

"No wonder they can't even use magic, humans really never were fit to be civilized..."

"They should be grateful for the changelings among their number..."

"Well, the spot's empty. You want a go, then?"

"Oh yes, I think that'd be marvelous fun... I'm bored of dancing, anyway..."

The thing that surprised the Boy the most, once the crowd finally broke around him, was that there had been no blood. Looking down, he saw none trickling down his legs or pooling at his feet. But the relentless ache of his battered hole was so cruel he could hardly believe that he'd not been injured. His legs shook wildly with exhaustion and he was all but ready to drop when Lady Aster returned to him, effortlessly pulling him away from the spot where he'd been bound to get him walking again. He sniffled pathetically.

"Hmm... he's a bit less cute to keep around at dinner, don't you think? Fetch the Viscount Justicia for me, would you- ah, there you are. I think you can have him now after all, dear Viscount, there's no need for me to keep delaying it."

"Oh, so early? Very well, my Lady, I'll gladly take him off your hands. But perhaps I'll wait to enjoy his company properly after we dine. Best to keep him off to the side, in the hounds' quarters, don't you think?"

"Yes, in retrospect he's not so charming to keep one's appetite up."

"Quite right, my Lady. Come on, then..." The Viscount placed his hand at the back of the Boy's neck, and without even knowing why, the Boy obediently walked along until he found himself in a quiet, empty hall away from the lavishly-decorated ballroom. The Viscount opened up a plain-looking door at the end of the hallway and guided the Boy in before closing it behind him. The Boy heard cheerful speech from outside, and departing footsteps.

The hounds still looked like men, but for their teeth. That was one of the easier things to change through passive magic. But their desires and training were quicker still, and the Boy's company was appreciated as gladly as it had been by the Faeries who held his debt.

Six of them. That was how many he'd counted. And by the time the last was done with him, and settled in to sleep for the night, the Boy lay shaking silently with his face pressed to the floor, and at last he felt a fast trickle of blood run down his thigh.

He faintly heard conversations and laughter from outside.


This story is for mature audiences only.

A bit of "canon-compliant" supplemental material to flesh out the world for a future project.

This story is sexually explicit in nature and involves mature themes, including rape, fantasy racism, and dehumanization. Please do not read if under the age of 18.

Written by Suehiro Moncrieff for The Worm Presents: Abduction