Fascination

“Cris, you look like a kid on Christmas morning…” Bobby snaked an arm around Cristano and pulled his young lover close into a one-armed hug.

Asgeir laid his head on Bobby Cromwell's shoulder and smiled. “This place feels so good, boss. It feels like I belong here.”

Xiphon chuckled. “Munich is a special city, little one. I was here when it was annexed by the Romans in 50 AD. There is a remarkable magick about this place – a magick I never grow tired of.”

The three walked down the Maximilianstrasse, carrying a number of bags from their various sojourns into the fashionable and antique shops lining the broad thoroughfare. It was Cristano’s birthday – Xiphon’s gift had been the first-class tickets to and accommodations within the city; Bobby was purchasing the various items which caught his lover’s eye.

The trio passed a small coffee shop when a voice thundered behind them. It was strong and powerful and the menace within it shook them to the core of their beings. The street had gone deathly quiet.

“You dare ignore me? I should call forth an orgy the likes of which would make the Emperor Caligula blush like a virgin and have you rent limb from limb!”

The three men turned around and gasped. Time itself had stood still; with the exception of themselves and the speaker, everyone had frozen in mid-step. The being addressing them had his face set in grim lines and glared at the trio.

Despite the tendrils of dread crawling through them, the speaker was breathtaking. Tall, tanned and muscular, the being’s azure eyes pinned them like tracking lasers. His chiseled face was accented by a short, dark designer stubble. He wore a short-sleeved Henley unbuttoned to show off his slabbed chest and his muscular arms strained the material to near bursting. Midnight black hair ruffled in the breeze and his fists were clenched at his hips. Diamond studs in his ears burned like rainbow fire. A pair of faded jeans hugged the long, powerful legs in an obscene embrace and did little to hide the massive bulge at his crotch.

The being’s mouth twitched and a lopsided smirk soon appeared. Shortly thereafter, a wide grin split the inhumanly handsome face and he started to laugh. He stretched out his arms in a welcoming embrace.

“Xiphon, you bloodsucker! Give me a hug!”

* * *

Once more, time’s arrow resumed its course as Xiphon embraced the other being and the newcomer gently held the Minoan prince’s face in his hands, giving him a deep, passionate kiss.

The dark-haired demigod held Xiphon at arms length and his glacier-blue eyes held a look of amazement. “My God, you’re mortal again! You’ve found Andros??”

Xiphon grinned and pointed to his two companions, still in shock at the turn of events.

“Well, this calls for a celebration! Join me, join me!”

* * *

The four men found themselves in the small café they had just passed. The being gestured for a waiter and spoke in rapid-fire German. Soon, four large coffee mugs topped with steaming milk appeared on the table, along with a large platter of kuchen -- the sight and scent of which had both Bobby and Cristano’s mouths watering. The being gave them a beautiful, white smile which immediately had their cocks slithering down the legs of their own tight jeans.

“Please forgive the theatrics, but I couldn’t help it. I haven’t seen Xiphon in over eighty years and the look on his face was priceless! My name is Carreau, by the way. I’ve known this Greek sex machine for nearly four thousand years…”

Cristano shook his head. Sometimes, it still came as a shock to him about his lover’s long existence before he had reunited with Bobby.

He looked back and forth between Xiphon and Carreau. “Are you a vykrolax too? I thought Xiphon was the only one …”

Xiphon chuckled. “You are correct, little one – the spell of Apollo could only be invoked once. Carreau is not a vampire. He is far, far worse.” The Minoan grinned. “He is one of the Princes of Hell. You see, Carreau is a fallen angel.”

* * *

Carreau laughed. Bobby and Cris shivered. It was like the softest fur rubbing against their spines. From the inside of their bodies. Still, the thought of sitting down with a demon was a terrifyingly erotic thought. The term, "handsome as hell" just took on a completely different meaning.

“Well, it is technically true I’m a fallen angel, but I’m not a Prince of Hell – I’m merely a Duke. And no hooves either. I take a size 10 – medium width.” He stretched out his muscular legs to show off the white-and-black Puma soccer shoes. He then took a piece of Zwetschgenkuchen (plum cake) and popped it into his mouth. “Say hello to the Lord of the Incubi; I’m Lust incarnate, but I have a penchant for guys. That was one of the reasons that got me into trouble. That and being too fucking curious and independent.”

The former vampire took a sip of his coffee and interjected. “Carreau had a few minor character flaws that had him cast out of Heaven after the First Fall; nevertheless, he had no malignant tendencies to be truly Infernal material. The Father of All Lies pitied him; He gave Carreau a job and a title and then shooed him here to the mortal plane.”

Xiphon continued. “I first met Carreau during the sack of Alexandria. We aided the Lady Hypatia to save many of the scrolls contained in that famous library. He destroyed the entire Thirty-Seventh Roman Legion for that desecration.”

Carreau leaned back, shrugging broad shoulders. “What can I say? I was pissed. I hate anyone who destroys books … but enough about me…” He pointed to Bobby. “You must be Andros – I can tell by those wine-dark blue eyes.”

“The name’s Bobby Cromwell now – Xiphon answered a lot of questions I’ve had for quite a long time that I could never find answers for ...”

The Minoan stroked Bobby’s face and ran his lips across the squared jaw. “This is my beloved.” He stared deeply into Cromwell’s eyes. “Carreau was the only being to whom I could rail against the Gods during my interminable wait for your return and to weep tears of blood in his arms at your separation from me. He has been my teacher, my lover and my dearest friend. I fear without his constancy I would gone truly and irreversibly mad.”

The fallen angel actually blushed and turned to Asgeir. He gently stroked his hand thru the assassin’s chestnut hair. Cristano was almost immediately captivated by Carreau’s penetrating gaze. “And who is this handsome, young mortal?” He continued to idly play with the silky locks of the young man. “He has the stature of one of the Heavenly Host…”

Xiphon laid a hand on the assassin’s powerful forearm. With a start, Cristano shook himself as if he had been doused in ice-cold water. “This is Cristano, old friend. And he holds a singular place in the hearts of myself and my beloved. He is not to be toyed with.” There was a friendly, but firm warning in his voice.

Carreau arched an eyebrow and smiled. “Fair enough. You know, I always thought you could undo my fascination because of Apollo’s spell. Now I know it’s a natural ability.”

The Minoan gave the fallen angel a wink. “Nay … my ability stems from the pureness of my intentions …”

Carreau made a rude noise and kissed the tip of the former vampire’s nose. “Uh-huh. And I can stroll back through the Celestial Gates any time I want.”

Bobby spoke up. “You taught Xiphon, glamour, didn’t you Carreau? I can make out something around you … almost, but not quite a heat shimmer if I look out of the corner of my eye.”

The fallen angel arched dark brows. “You’re quite observant, An- … Bobby.” He tapped his sensuous lips. “Perhaps your sorcerous powers are reemerging. Yes. Yes, I did. Didn’t want to panic the populace with my real appearance, but I must say, I look pretty damn good for being over 12 billion years old. Xiphon here is seeing me now as I truly am – how about you two? You game?”

The singer and the bodyguard looked at each other and nodded.

Carreau stood up and gave them a wink. Slowly, his skin took on a rusty hue. The two watched as a small moustache appeared on his upper lip and a short, well-trimmed beard covered his chin. The diamond studs in his ears reddened and glowed like fiery coals in the afternoon sun. A small pair of bone-colored horns appeared on his forehead. He blinked. Gone were the electric-blue eyes; in their place, pale golden-brown orbs – jewel-like in their intensity – glanced merrily at them. The fallen angel also grew proportionally taller and even more muscular. He again sat down and leaned forward; the powerful muscles in his arms danced beneath the reddish skin.

“Surprised?” He picked up a Zimtkuchen (cinnamon cake) and took a bite. There was something delightfully wicked in Carreau’s true form, but definitely not sinister and certainly not evil. Even the way he nibbled the cake was arousing. The russet skin made the fallen angel even more attractive – the way his black hair tumbled over the horns, the strong dark brows framing the amazingly bright eyes, the perfectly trimmed facial hair and the barest hint of stubble on his square jaw – all those factors had the other three men hard and aching.

“Wow …” Cristano breathed.

“Handsome devil, ain’t I?” He gave the young man a quick hug. The angel’s scent filled Asgeir’s nostrils – an exotic combination of spices and sex. Carreau laid a hand lightly on Cristano’s thigh and idly stroked it. This time there was no enchantment between the two men other than their mutual attraction.

Carreau took another sip of coffee. “What brings you to Munich?”

Bobby replied. “We needed a vacation and neither Cris nor I had ever been here. Plus, it’s his birthday this week.”

“Really?” A wide grin broke across the angel’s face. He turned to Asgeir. “Well, how’s this for a present? Let me give you a night on the town that you’ll never forget! Hmmm?”

“Carreau ….” The Minoan gave him a stern look.

The angel held up his hands. “No funny business, Xiphon – I swear. Just one night of fun with no strings attached.” He turned to Cristano. “You up to it, handsome?”

Cris looked back and forth between the angel and his lovers. He was torn between apprehension and exhilaration. “Is it okay, boss?”

Bobby looked unconvinced, but Xiphon’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Carreau’s word is absolute, cardoula mou – there is nothing to fear. And it is a very generous gift, my love…”

Bobby took a deep breath and chuckled. “Well, if I can fall in love with a four-thousand year old vampire, who am I to say you can’t have a night on the town with a fallen angel? It’s okay by me, Cris.”

Carreau grinned. “Marvelous! He pulled out a card and wrote down something on the back. I’m staying at the Mandarin Oriental. Meet me at 7pm!”

* * *

Cristano turned down the Neuturmstrasse and walked into the lobby of the hotel, approaching the front desk. A beautiful young woman with honey blonde hair and brown eyes looked up and gave the young assassin a bright smile.

“May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Hexxen…”

“Certainly sir. He’s in the Grand Presidential suite on the top floor. You can take the express elevator – it’s the one set apart from the others. May I call ahead and tell him you are here?”

“Sure. My name’s Cristano Asgeir”

Her eyes widened at the name. “Mein Gott! The Olympic luge champion from Norway? May I have your autograph? Please?” She gestured to a handsome, dark-haired clerk. “Heinrich! Come over here! This is Cristano Asgeir!!”

* * *

As the elevator doors opened, Carreau was standing in the double doorway of the suite with a 100-watt grin on his reddish face. He was wearing a half-open leather shirt that was pulled tightly over his muscled torso and a pair of soft black linen pants. He was barefoot and rusty-red toes peeked out from the cuffs of the trousers.

“I didn’t know you were famous, Cris. It seems you made quite a splash downstairs in the lobby!”

Asgeir grinned back. “I didn’t know that I was that popular here, either … everyone wanted a picture with me. It was a real surprise!”

Carreau hugged him and drew him into the suite with a powerful arm around the young man’s shoulders. He pushed the door shut with a soft kick. His hand slid down the assassin’s back and Cris shivered in pleasure at the touch.

“I thought we’d have dinner here in the hotel and then go out to several clubs…”

The demon prince drawled. “… but of course, I want to get you all kitted out to make as big a splash as possible…”

Through the foyer and into the large living room, the two came face-to-face with a dark-haired young man in jeans and a black t-shirt so snug that it appeared to be painted onto his torso. Green eyes gave Cris a critical once-over and a wide grin split his handsome face. A tape measure was draped around his neck.

Carreau turned to Asgeir. “Cris, this is Michael DiSogno from Spexter – the best fetish store in Munich. He’s going to measure you for some leather to wear tonight.” He turned to DiSogno.

“You’ll be back in two hours with everything, is that correct?”

“Yes, Herr Hexxen. Codpiece jeans, body harness, boots, wristbands and assorted straps. Let me get started.” He turned to Cristano. “Strip, please.”

* * *

In a short time, the measurements were completed and Michael left the suite. Cris sat on the sofa in his jockstrap. The measurements Michael had taken had been quite extensive. And explicit. Carreau had given him a pair of diamond stud earrings and they threw rainbow scintillations around the room whenever any errant light caught them.

Cris grinned. “I love the last name you’re using – Hexxen … as in 'Der Hexenhammer'?”

Carreau laughed and poured himself a drink. “Yep. Not only are you fucking handsome as hell, Cris – you’ve got a brilliant mind as well. Xiphon and Bobby are lucky men.”

Cris blushed. Carreau pulled up a chair and sat backwards on it. The fallen angel rested his head on his crossed arms and his golden eyes gave Asgeir an appraising look.

“Dear Lord, when you do that you look absolutely angelic … You know, stud, Xiphon had always been a rather aggressive lover. I'm getting the impression that he’s still that way … particularly with you? A little overpowering at times?”

Asgeir nodded. Damn, those whiskey gold eyes can peer right into my soul.

Carreau gave the young man a wicked grin. “C'mon ... I’m going to show you how to seduce him.”

The angel stood and in the blink of an eye, had taken the appearance of the ex-vampire. He put out a hand and pulled Cristano to his feet. The two entered the master bedroom. Carreau then circled around the younger man and pulled him hard against his chest. Powerful arms encircled Asgeir’s torso and the assassin could feel the hot, throbbing bulge of the demon prince’s package pressed against his ass. Carreau began to kiss Cristano’s neck and slowly caress the velvet skin beneath his hands.

“He usually starts like this, right?”

Cris melted under the gentle onslaught. “Mmmmm … uh-huh …”

“Tilt your head back and start stroking my arms … slowly, Cris … slowly. That’s right… start at my shoulders and work your way down to my wrists… and back up again… good. Take your time… Keep that up…”

The young assassin’s fingers danced over the powerful arms holding him tightly, making whorls and designs on the soft skin and feeling the powerful muscles just beneath the surface. Carreau breathed out and the exhalation across Cris’ neck made him shiver. The arms around him loosened their grip.

“Damn, you’re good… now twist around in my arms. Xiphon will still be savoring the stroking you’re giving him. Look into his eyes and smooth the hair back from his forehead. Stroke his forehead and the sides of his face… ahhh... nice… very nice…”

Asgeir did as he was told and stared into the dark eyes of the ersatz Minoan. The angel’s arms restly lightly in the small of his muscular back and he slowly fondled the assassins’s skin. Cris stopped his caresses and gently held the other’s face in his hands. He tilted his head and gave the angel a soft, yet deep kiss. Asgeir’s hands slid to Carreau’s powerful shoulders as he began to trail his lips along the jaw and down the throat.

“If I’m not naked already … start undressing me… again, s-l-o-w-l-y…”

The young man continued the languorous assault on the demon’s neck, jaw and lips as his hands slid around the demon’s back and pulled him closer to him. Asgeir walked them backwards – never breaking contact – until they reached the side of the bed. As the false-Xiphon started to lose his balance, Cristano slowly lowered him until he was staring up at the young man between his legs.

“Try not to break eye contact with me, Cris … start licking my throat and work your way downwards…”

A pink tongue darted out and moistened the skin in the hollow where neck met chest. Slowly, Cristano tasted his way south through the crevasse between the slabbed pectorals, with detours to the pebbled nips and around the six-pack abs that were trembling with anticipation. Finally, he gave the tip of the demon’s rigid tool a salacious lick.

“Now, put my legs on your shoulders and start stroking the inside of my thighs …”

One powerful leg was hoisted onto Asgeir’s muscular shoulder; then the other. The hairless pucker winked, begging for penetration. Cris stroked the thighs and flanks of the man helpless beneath him, watching in satisfaction as his breath quickened and the rock-hard abs clenched and unclenched in an erotic rhythm. By magic, a bottle of lube appeared on the bed.

Cris needed no further encouragement. He tore off his jockstrap and poured a generous amount onto his engorged shaft, making it gleam wetly in the soft lighting. This was followed by an equally large amount into and onto the man beneath him. He used the purpled head of his desire to stroke the perineum of the demon, watching him moan and writhe in pleasure. Then, in one thrust, pushed himself into the waiting depths beneath him.

* * *

Asgeir was exhausted as he lay next to the incubus on the large bed. Carreau continued to slowly kiss his chest and throat. Once again he was in his true form and Cris threaded his fingers through the silky black hair; the demon made low sounds in his throat like a contented cat.

The fallen angel chuckled. “Damn! That’s the best sex I’ve had since 1956 … all you needed was a little coaching on your initial approach. You can work for me any time you want, stud!”

The demon prince reached over to the nightstand and held up a steel spinner ring. It looked far too large, but when Carreau placed it on Asgeir’s first finger, it fit perfectly. Magic.

“This will stand you in good stead tonight. Spin it.”

The young man twisted the ring and immediately his energy returned. He was also consumed with lust. His member began to thicken and in a moment, he was again rock-hard. Cris found himself eager once more to take the fallen angel. He pulled Carreau down and crushed their lips together in a brutal kiss, then still entwined, rolled on top of the red-skinned angel. Asgeir’s massive cock - purpled with need – pushed open the dark pucker and thrust into the tight chute. Carreau moaned in pleasure as once again he was speared by the assassin’s enormous tool and Cris nuzzled his neck as he pistoned in and out of him.

* * *

Spent, Asgeir lay atop the demon as the immortal cradled the young man in his arms and kissed the whorls of Cristano’s ear. He lazily stroked the powerful muscles along the young man’s back. Cristano's eyes blinked open and looked into the smiling russet face.

“You dozed off for a bit, Cris – feeling better?”

Asgeir snuggled into the demonic embrace and nodded as he touched the ring. “Man, I'm beat ... but that was fucking amazing! I don’t know what to say, Carreau – I can’t even begin to thank you.”

The fallen angel chuckled. “I haven’t even started yet, Cris … take a look at yourself in the mirror.”

The assassin lifted his head up and peered across the room into the antique silvered surface. His mouth dropped open in shock.

“Holy shit! Is that me?” He was surprised at the bass rumble of his voice.

A huge black bodybuilder stared back at him. He got off the bed and looked at himself. At least 6 feet tall and easily 250 pounds, every muscle was perfectly proportioned and the dark chocolate skin was smooth, hairless and pulled tightly over the ripped and shredded physique. He touched the strong black brows over deep brown eyes and felt the razor trimmed beard around sensuous full lips. He looked at his huge, powerful hands and ran them along Promethean arms, across the massively slabbed pectorals, down an obscenely defined 8-pack and hefted the gigantic, nearly coal-black horsecock and equally substantial ballsac.

Cris was again turgid with lust and amazement as he stroked his massive tool. The lighter skin of his palms and fingers only made his dick more amazing. The only connection to his previous appearance was the silver ring on his hand and the diamond studs in his ears. He ran fingers over his skull and felt the extremely short stubble. He turned and saw the elaborate black tattoo on one gigantic deltoid and smiled. His teeth were brilliant white.

“I can’t believe this …” He continued stroking his massive body and laughed. “This is amazing!”

Carreau leaned against the headboard with his hands behind his head and grinned.

“Merely glamour, Cris. It only will last until sunrise … that is, if you like the way you look. Otherwise I can restore your appearance now.”

He turned to the demon. “No, no …this is incredible! I love it!”

The suite’s buzzer sounded. The demon prince laughed. “That must be dinner …” He threw Cris his jockstrap. “You should just be able to get into that... Let him in.”

With his new body, Cris expected to barely get a leg into the material, but surprisingly enough, it fit perfectly. More glamour. He thought to himself. Asgeir padded through the foyer and opened the door.

The waiter stood at the door, agape. Cristano gave him a big grin as he watched the young German stare at him and his package straining the jock to its limits. The nametag read “Matthew”. He laughed to himself as he saw the other’s man’s crotch swell to obviously painful proportions.

He turned around and waved the waiter in. “C’mon in, dude. I’m … ” A pause. “… Jerome.” He heard Matthew gasp as he saw the dark globes of his ass framed by the white straps of the jock.

“Is …is … Herr Hexxen here?” He swallowed hard.

Cris dropped into a chair; he yanked off his jock and spread his legs to show off his massive cock and balls. He began to stroke them. “Nope, he stepped out for a moment. It’s okay... You can set up.”

The now fully-naked bodybuilder leaned against the archway of the dining room and watched as the young waiter's hands shook as he set up the meal. Asgeir continually fondled his dick and smiled hungrily at the young German, which made him even more apprehensive. When the dinner was laid out on the table, the waiter turned to leave. Cristano stopped him.

“Let me give you something, Matthew.”

Cris pulled the handsome waiter to him. He crushed thick, sensuous lips against the other’s and caressed his back and arms. He put those lips against the trembling neck and whispered.

“Too bad you aren’t naked.”

Matthew took no time in stripping off his clothes. Cris could tell that “Jerome” was just the sort of guy the other man had wanked over a million times and the thought of being in his muscular arms and having sex with him was damn near mind-shattering.

With that, the bodybuilder grasped the blonde-haired man by the wrist and pulled him into one of the other bedrooms. He circled the German, admiring and stroking the trim and muscular body as a butcher would inspect a fine piece of meat.

“Nice. Very nice.”

Matthew smiled and knelt. He took the massive black horsecock in both hands. The head was so big and thick he can barely fit it in his mouth...but Cris could tell he was determined to do it. As he licked and sucked the head of his cock “Jerome” moaned and placed his hands on the back of his head and started to push his cock into the eager mouth.

The waiter pulled back and licked the length of the super thick shaft to get it nice and slick. When Matthew went back to sucking his cock, the huge black man pushed his way into the other’s mouth until the head of his cock was wedged in the back of the blonde man’s throat. He inhaled deeply through his mouth to open his throat. At once, he impaled himself on the gigantic cock at the same time the bodybuilder thrusted, sending six fat inches of the great ebony monster deep inside.

The German reached up and grabbed his wrists to stop him from pushing more into him until he could adjust. He swiveled his head from side to side causing the black man to hiss from the massaging action.

"Damn, where did you learn to do that?"

Matthew slid the black horsecock out of his throat to respond, and to get some air. He honestly was amazed he had been able to take that much of the bodybuilder’s huge cock in just one try.

As he left his throat gaping and empty from the sudden withdrawal of “Jerome’s” massive piece, he said with a smile..."Lots of practice...I had a good teacher."

“Jerome” placed his hands on Matthew’s head again, but this time didn’t push. He just rubbed the back of his skull as the smaller man tongued his gigantic black cock. The waiter could feel one massive hand leave his head and start to rub along his back along the spine. He shivered in delight.

"How about you get back to work on this and show me what else he taught you?"

* * *

The waiter finally left, disheveled and limping from the addition of the brutal ass pounding of the huge black bodybuilder. Thanks to the spinner ring, Cristano had felt that he had unloaded over a gallon of cum into the other man; Matthew had been screaming and moaning in ecstasy as he had been penetrated over and over again.

Cris padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He was sweaty and sticky and smelled of sex. He needed to get cleaned up before dinner and the remainder of the night with Carreau.

A knock at the door and the demon prince popped his head in. The fallen angel appeared as he had on the street. He gave his friend a grin.

“Finish up and dry off, stud … Michael is in the lobby and is on his way up.”

* * *

Cristano noticed as the steam cleared that once again he appeared as himself. Carreau’s voice whispered in his head.

I want Michael to concentrate on any final adjustments, handsome. Believe me, NO ONE would be able to concentrate if you came out looking as you did with the waiter. Cris heard the laughter in the ghostly echo. Besides, one thing I’ve learned –never screw with your tailor or your bootmaker…

Asgeir grinned and wrapped a thick towel around his slim hips and left the bathroom.

* * *

When the young assassin re-entered the living area, the leather tailor gave him a wide grin. “I had no idea you were so famous, Cristano! The lobby was abuzz when I left!”

Carreau dressed in the same black leather shirt as before, but now also sported a tight pair of leather breeches and high boots. He gave his charge a devilish wink and an equally wicked lopsided grin.

Asgeir felt the blush coloring his cheeks. Despite being a two-time Olympic champion, it was still a humbling experience for him to be considered “famous.”

“I must say that everything turned out extremely well. I decided to use deerskin leather for all of the pieces except the boots.” He chuckled. “Let’s put these on you and see if there needs any final adjustments.”

The body harness came first. Michael hummed to himself as slipped the leather over Cristano’s head and began to fasten the buckles around the powerful torso. The leather was incredibly soft and the heady scent of the material had Asgeir’s cock rock-hard and jutting out like a girder. Michael knelt and threaded the back strap between the hard globes of his ass.

“I had a feeling that a regular cockring wouldn’t work, so I decided to use one of our very best stainless steel split rings.”

The tailor threaded one half of the ring thru the strap dangling down the front of the harness and did the same with the one hanging between his legs. He gently positioned the halves around Cristano's engorged cock and balls then brought the two pieces together and fastened them with a hex screw.

“How does that feel?”

Asgeir stretched and he felt the leather creak in response. The motion pulled the straps tightly across his body in an amazingly pleasurable embrace and the heavy ring around his swollen cock and balls provided a gentle tug that was extremely erotic.

“Damn, this feels sooo good!”

Both Carreau and Michael smiled.

“Pants next, Cristano. Have a seat.”

The tailor opened the zips on the inside of the ankles and held them up for inspection. There was an additional zipper going up the ass. A shiny steel lock fastened it in place. Cristano’s cock twitched in its steel prison just looking at them. “Slide these over your legs first, then stand up and wriggle into them.”

The breeches were even softer than the harness. The dark material clung to his powerful legs like a second skin. He pulled the leather up past his thighs and over his ass. It felt absolutely decadent. He looked in the mirror to see the back strap of the harness disappearing into the waistband of the breeches, while his engorged and steel-encircled member poked out from the opening in front.

“I made a couple of different pouches for you, too.” Michael smiled. “You may have to wait a little bit until you can snap one of them on … boots next, my handsome friend.”

DiSogno slipped a pair of soft white socks onto the young assassin’s feet. He then threaded the boot hooks into the straps. Cris pulled one, then the other onto his feet and stood up to have them settle. The boots – Konig’s, he was told – fit snugly around his deerskin-covered legs and their soft sheen accented the finish of the breeches. He was so aroused that he wanted nothing more to stroke his leather-clad body and erupt.

Both Michael and Carreau assisted with the finishing accoutrements; soft straps buckled about his upper arms and equally sensuous bands enclosed his powerful wrists. Cris looked at the amazingly sexy reflection of himself in the mirror and smiled. With difficulty, he bent his tool downwards and snapped on a pouch made of soft, quilted leather. His package bulged obscenely in front of him and Carreau made a whistle of appreciation.

“Another beautiful job, Michael … thank you! You like it Cris?”

The younger man embraced the demon. “Jeez, Carreau, this is the most amazing leather I’ve ever worn. Thanks!”

Michael began packing his materials. “Where are you two going tonight?”

Carreau’s eyes twinkled. Cris noticed that the studs in his ears were now as blue as his eyes – and just as fiery.

“We’re going to head over to the Mullerstrasse – spend some time in Bau and then head over to Ochsengarten.”

The tailor grinned. “Well, you two will make quite a splash! Enjoy yourselves!”

Cristano hugged the leather tailor and felt him grow hard. “Thank you, Michael!”

It was the tailor’s turn to burn scarlet. “You’re most welcome, Cristano! But I should leave … or my boyfriend is going to be very, very upset with me! My self-control has limits, you know! Have fun!” Carreau draped a powerful arm around the young German as he walked him to the door.

Carreau returned and grinned at the other man. “Just one more thing …” He pulled out a thick steel chain with a cross and put it around the other man’s neck.

“Ready to go … “Jerome” ?”

The young assassin looked into the mirror. Once again he was the huge black bodybuilder – only this time encased in skin tight leather breeches and boots. The harness and straps strained across his herculean physique and combined with the wrist bands, gave him a predatory and dangerous look.

The steel chain was a perfect complement to the thickly muscled neck and the cross nestled in the valley between the enormous, rock-hard pectorals. The diamond studs glittered in the dark ears and “Jerome” twisted the spinner ring to feel his horsecock stretch the pouch even further and a wave of lust sweep through him. A huge grin split his face, made even brighter by the contrast with the chocolate skin.

“You bet!” Came the bass reply. “I feel the need to breed! After all, it is my birthday!”

* * *

There are some other demon masks out there, but nothing like this. I have to say that the way that CFX made this mask is truly amazing. The details are perfect – to the placement of the horns to the slight darkening of the jawline to represent a “just shaved” appearance – that makes this one of my favorite masks.

I wanted a “handsome devil” and I certain got one! The mask itself is quite versatile in that I can wear the wig with it (and have the hair tumble artfully over the horns) or go bald – either way, I look damn erotic in it! With the addition of the “Twilight” golden-brown lenses I bought previously, the transformation is amazing!

Of course, doing the story for this was a bit more complicated since there needed to be some preternatural qualities about it, and I wanted it to fit into my already-existing “secondary world.” Sometimes having already-existing characters can be a pain – I need to keep a certain self-consistency about them.

First, the name. “Carreau” - according to the various demonology texts on the web - was indeed a fallen angel – a former heavenly prince. Carreau belonged to the order of “Powers” (one of the nine choirs of angels) whose job was that of a warrior to defend humans and the cosmos against evil.

From what I could glean of his history, he wasn’t really quite Infernal material, so I decided to go that extra distance and really make him into a more “human” figure – a little too willing to see shades of gray (instead of purely black and white) and to have developed a touch of mortal sin – gay Lust – after eons on the job. Rules are rules, and he was cast out of Heaven for his imperfections, but Hell wasn’t looking for an almost-perfect angel either. Since reading Milton’s “Paradise Lost”, I felt that Satan could have some degree of compassion for him.

So once his background was established, the question arose as to how he would fit in.

Naturally, for a being as old as time itself, he had to know the ex-vykrolax and the story began to take place. I also wanted to explore the triangle between Xiphon, Bobby and Cristano.

While the Minoan prince and his reincarnated partner love the young bodyguard, does the slider-cum-assassin hold the same place in both their hearts? 

That question made me also think of Carreau’s “instruction” to assist the younger man in his relationship with Xiphon. After all, who but Lust Incarnate would know how to press all of the former vampire’s buttons?

“Glamour” was another concept I wanted to work with. In order to hide their true visages, both the fallen angel and the former vampire used it blend in with the rest of humanity. Xiphon used it to merely hide his pale appearance and bloody red lips; Carreau uses it more extensively to not only disguise himself, but to have fun doing it. Since the fallen angel was able to teach Xiphon glamour, I couldn’t see why he couldn’t bestow it on someone else.

The form which Carreau grants the young Asgeir – an intimidating black bodybuilder – was also a way for him to give Cristano a chance to explore his dominant side. Since he is very young – only in his early twenties – I don’t think that he often (if ever) gets the chance to be the dominant partner in relationships with either Xiphon or Bobby.

I have a feeling as I write this that the non-material gifts from Carreau will not be disappearing at sunrise … rather, I think they will be granted to Cristano to use as he sees fit. More to come!

Finally, although names have been changed to protect the perverted, Spexter is one of the finest fetish shops in Munich. Their selection is amazing and their service impeccable. They have some of the most accommodating, considerate and knowledgeable people when it comes to leather and rubber that I’ve met in a long time.