The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 36

Three weeks in the role of Daire Mac Cormac's cupbearer seemed longer to Niall than the year he had spent in Ath Luain Castle as a guest and a ward. Then time flew like an arrow: feasting, hunting, training with weapons, traveling through the northern lands of the blessed realm of Mag Tuired. However, a single feast could seem surprisingly long, when one was forced to stand behind the damned chair of the damned castle owner, making sure that his cup was full at all times, while a cold draft blew over one's bare legs, and a grabbing hand probed under one's tunic. Sometimes Daire would make Niall sit on his lap in public and feed him with his own fingers, and Niall couldn't even refuse because he was hungry! And he was able to sleep a little only in the mornings, because all night Daire would roll him every which way on his wide bed, putting into various positions, but generally preferring to take Niall from behind, like an animal.

The fennids didn't give Niall much trouble, but only because he didn't carry a common servant's duties and hardly left the lord's bedroom. Otherwise, meeting him in a deserted corridor, someone would have definitely decided to check what was under the pretty slave's tunic and why the master loved him so much.

Yes, the fennids basically obeyed their master, but they didn't take seriously such threats as "will lose an arm up to the shoulder". Daire was quick to punish and terrible when angry, but it was difficult to make him angry. He was never angry with the habit his fennids had, fūcking everything that moved. Those who came to Daire complaining about the dishonor caused by a fennid, would be, depending on Daire's mood, either chucked out, or paid handsomely by the offender on Daire's orders, or made fight their offender with equal weapons on beaten ground. Understandably very few had ever come.

Thank Danu, the very status of a slave scared the fennids away. There was no usual excuse "he asked for it, and then changed his mind and called it a rape." A slave was his master's property, and using him for sex was a serious and undeniable crime. Not like using a free lad, even if the latter had never before slept with a man, had no inclination of doing so and had to be a little roughed up as a means of persuasion. In addition, Finn's appearance should have also been a deterrent for the fianna, even if not a conscious one. No one probably wanted to learn the hard way that the tall slave, which looked so much like a Tuatha De lord, was also stronger than an ordinary person, or maybe he knew some dirty tricks. One could've been in for an unpleasant surprise and became the laughingstock of the whole fianna.

Those who had more brains, might also think: what if the Steward of the North would find out about an unusual slave who looked just like him, and about everyone who dared to treat him without proper respect?

But somehow Daire forgot to tell Niall that he was not to touch the fennids either. So not a week had passed, and Niall caught the handsome black-haired lad alone, dragged him into a storeroom and began kissing him on the lips without any preamble. Naisi (that was his name) blushed and even resisted for a while, but to no avail. Niall was pleased to find that he was physically stronger than a mortal, even without his magical power. Besides, he was a skillful kisser, Cumal had always praised him for that, and what was good for the Lord of Fire, should be good enough for a mortal lad too.

Naisi babbled something about Milord forbidding to touch Finn, tried to push him away, but Niall said, "Don't touch me then!" and pulled off the lad's pants. Naisi even hid his hands behind his back, as if saying that he didn't touch the slave, it was the slave who did all the touching. Although when Niall picked him up, pressed his back against the wall and impaled him on his cock, Naisi threw his arms around Niall's neck and his legs around his waist.

He was impulsive and passionate in everything, in sex too: responded shamelessly, moaned openly, throwing his head back against the wall. His eyes rolled back, and Niall suspected that the lad imagined now that he was being fūcked not by Finn the slave at all, but by the Steward of the North himself in all his radiant glory. Niall came with a grin plastered all over his face, and then walked around happy all day.