Monster Boys

It was time to see to my duties. The Council of Huntresses wanted all the woman-power they could scrape together. For quite some time, hearsay had been that times were bad for this town, Valgemaa, but I did not need rumors to know that. For the last few weeks, unease had been written across the faces of the Council's best and brightest.

As I marched from my home to the council chamber, I watched my breath flow into clouds in front of me. My fur boots scuffed softly on the frosty gravel of the burg's main street. I stayed warm beneath a thick, dark blue jacket that my grandmother had worn. Someday, I hoped to have a daughter, and I hoped that she would wear this jacket too. It was more than a garment. It was even more than a masterwork of textile-weaving. It was our family's coat of arms, simple but proud.

Stout wood and stone huts, dressed in newfallen snow, rose from either side the street. Inside, children cavorted and cackled while their mothers told them stories and their fathers cooked and crafted. Humble fires sent wisps of smoke spiraling up into the silver sky. A few teenage boys passed me in the road, dragging a cart full of fine logs. They were heading back to the farmlands, where all unmarried men lived. The boys shoved and joked at each other, then their eyes fell on me, and they all gaped. A trip into woman's territory was not an everyday experience for these farmboys, and a huntress like myself was exotic. I obliged them with a wink, then walked on.

In the center of town was a brilliant stone statue, hewn by the greatest craftswomen of a generation, showing a woman standing on a rock, holding a scroll in one hand and a map in the other. She was in full armor, with a cape billowing down from her shoulders, half-covered by her enormous train of hair. This was Medniïce, First of the Huntresses, and the founder of Valgamaa. For the thousandth time, I wished her a peaceful rest and went on.

A quarter-mile ahead, the door hung open to a brightly firelit brothel. I could see inside, where domesticated monster boys lounged over luxuriant cloths, or else they cut wood, chiseled stone and even sparred with each other.

One of the monster boys in particular caught my eye. Like most monster boys, he looked mostly human except for one distinction. His was a pair of pure-white wings that sprouted from his back, peaking a little above his shoulders and angling back down. He saw me staring at him, and his wings perked with sudden excitement.

I kept staring. I had almost certainly seen him before, but I hadn't fully appreciated what a treat he was for the eyes. His dark brown hair was somehow neat in its unruliness, and thin, soft eyebrows rode low over his aquatic blue eyes. He smiled a coy little smile, and I smiled back. But I kept walking. Perhaps I would try him later. But for now, the council wanted its best huntress. They wanted me.

The huntress' hall was a low, broad cone that squatted on the north peak of the town, its circular roof held up by great logs that were fifty feet long and generations old. To a newcomer's eye, the building would have looked stern- grim, even- but to me, it was a second home.

Inside, huntresses marched about, practicing maneuvers on the dirt in the sparring ring, testing their equipment by the forge or arguing over scrolls and tomes. Tamed monster boys skittered along beside them, carrying their goods for them, while the huntresses' human husbands stood on the sidelines, making small talk or crafting tools for them.

One of the high councilwomen walked up to me, her pace brisk. "Frigg," she said, "we have an important gathering this evening. But first, we need you to train the young one."

"Training?" I said. "I was under the impression that I was your last choice for a trainer."

"You are. We take in as many recruits as we can now, and you are the last master available."

"My apprentice- is she skilled?"

"See for yourself. That is your way, I know."

The councilwoman snapped her fingers, and in strode a young woman. She seemed to be the age of two and twenty if I had to guess her exact years, and she was clearly not from these lands. Her skin was tan and her hair blonde from heavy sun. Her full lips and blue eyes completed a bright, ornamental appearance. I found her remarkably beautiful, and I could tell that the other women felt the same.

"Hello," she said brightly, stepping up to me. "You're master Frigg Aronson, yes? I'm called Dulce. Dulce Obregón."

I was right; that was a Fulzoran name, from the sunny, seafaring lands to the south.

"Will we go hunting today?" she asked, bouncing a little on her toes. "I can't wait to make my first hunt."

I decided that a quiz would make for the best test. "Tell me what you know about the eastern flightless fairy boy."

"Eastern?" she asked, incredulous. "But they don't live this far north."

"That's true. But my order stands."

"Oh... well, they have little wings that camouflage with poppies, they're very light, they're slow runners and they're not very smart. They like the color red- no... yellow."

"All of that is correct. Now walk me through the process of capturing one."

"Okay, yes, yes, I know this..."

I smiled a little. Some girls fell apart when asked questions they had not prepared for. But Dulce was keeping her composure.

"Fairy boys leave trails of sparkles," she began. "I mean, luminescent particles. The particles hang in the air for half a day, then they turn black and fall. You can track them that way."

She stood up and looked self-satisfied.

"Keep going," I said.

"More? Well... fairy boys can't hear well, so you can stalk them normally, and when you find them, you have to careful. They scare easily, because they're a non-belligerent species, so they won't attack you. You have to... hm..."

I waited.

"Wait, that's it! They have strong senses of smell, so you have to use perfumes. Western fairy boys like plum scent. The eastern ones... I have no idea."

"That's acceptable. Suppose you come into contact. What will you do then?"

"The last step to capturing a monster boy is to make him cum. If the fairy boy comes toward me, I'll stand still, and maybe back away a little. I wouldn't hold eye contact, because they scare easily- but I already said that."

"Don't worry. It bears repeating. How do you finish him?"

"He'd try to hug me, probably. Maybe he'd fondle me a little too. I'd start slowly, get my fingers on his skin and let him get used to it, then I'd find his cock. I'd start rubbing it first, then I'd pump. Oh, yes, and I'd make sure I didn't pull back too far and stretch the foreskin. That hurts them."

"After his first orgasm, will he be docile?"

"Yes. Fairy boys have low stamina, so they go docile with just one cum. He'll be light also, so I could just carry him back here and start the obedience training."

"Correct."

Dulce beamed. I couldn't help but smile back.

"You know all that books will teach you," I said. "It's time for your masterwork. Equip yourself, and we'll go hunting."

Dulce's grin widened.

"Jens!" I called.

Moments later, a sliver-and-blue-furred catboy stepped up to us, with his ears, whiskers and tail twitching attentively. Catboys had a reputation for meanness, but Jens had a heart like newfallen snow.

"M'yes?" he mewed.

"Dulce is on the verge of her first hunt," I told him. "See to it that she's properly equipped."

"Mrow?" said Jens. "A first? Ve-e-e-ery nice."

Dulce's eyes focused on Jens, and her pupils shrank. Her eyes climbed up and down his narrow chest, focusing on his innocent yet knowing face. I could see questions brewing in her throat.

"You're a catboy," she said.

Jens nodded.

"You're fully trained!"

"M'yes. Docile."

'Docile' was his favorite word.

"Could I..." said Dulce, "could I spend a night with you? Tonight?"

Jens purred, his tail curling sensuously.

"Tonight," I said gently. "For now, she needs to focus on her hunt."

Jens nodded, still flicking his tail, and led Dulce off to the armory. A few minutes later, she came back, wearing clean, tight-fitting fur-lined tan leather. Two belts wound across her torso, holding surveying tools and vials of useful substances. Like me, she wore no luck charms at all; her own skills would see her through this hunt.

"Let's go!" she said.

* * *

Out in the forest, Dulce looked like a completely different person. She hunched her back and placed her feet with masterful care. I had been under the impression that she had little to no experience. Either I was wrong, or she was immensely gifted.

"Master Aronson?" she spoke up, "can I ask you something?"

"Yes. Quietly, please."

"Of course... why don't you have a slaveboy? All of the masters have monster boys they keep as their own, yes? If I become I a master today, I'll keep my catch and he'll be mine forever."

"Correct. When I caught a lightning sprite as my masterwork, I could have kept him, but I chose otherwise. And, to answer your next question, I chose not to keep him because I did not yet want a husband."

"What do you mean? It's not written that you have to marry some man. The monster boy's just a slave."

"Not to me. To me, a private monster boy would be a mate- a real husband. And I have neither the time nor the energy to do justice to a husband."

"You think these monsters are just like real people?"

"Of course. My mother became pregnant using a farmboy, but, as I see it, my real father was the one she purchased from an incubus tamer. He was an excellent lover to my mother, I am sure. But to me, he was something even more important. He was a good father. He was wise, kind and insightful. We should all be so lucky."

"That's strange."

"And how so?"

"You learned all that from a male?"

"Yes. And that's strange to you?"

"Of course! Do you know I came to be here? I'm from Fulzore, not this land. And the reason why my family left there is because puffed-up boys were taking it over. It used to be that males would stay on leashes, where they belong, but then they started taking power. Then the aristocracy started talking about a king. A king! By now, they've sworn in King Crístobal the First. Boys shouldn't run countries."

"I see."

"You don't agree, do you?"

"Truly, I'm ambivalent. If you've come here to find matriarchy, you'll find it, but you should know that you will be expected to show respect for males- even for monster boys, when the time comes."

Dulce looked at the ground. At first, I thought she was sulking, then she said something:

"Something's been through here."

She was right. "Can you tell me what it was?"

"Yes. An incubus."

"Those become more and more common. You're correct. Now lead the hunt."

This would be dangerous. Incubi were the most aggressive type of monster known, and they were the only type that kidnapped women without provocation.

Dulce did everything correctly, silencing her footsteps and not saying a word as she followed the soft tracks. Her eyes flicked onto the stiff branches and snow-covered rocks, and even the sparse trees above.

Eventually, she stopped and pointed at a distant incubus who picked his way across the frosty ground. Like all incubi, he was muscular and with clean skin, with striking red eyes under wild black hair. His feet were black, and his joints were a dull red. He wore a tattered brown loincloth that failed to conceal his bright crimson cock. This particular one had a smoothly rounded jaw line and bright pink nipples. His ribbonlike tail drooped to a few inches above the ground, then curved back up again, ending in a crimson spade as large as the palm of my hand.

He did not seem to notice us. Dulce looked to me and nodded, and I nodded back. She approached the incubus.

Now Dulce began the most difficult part of the hunt. She knew that a startled incubus might attack a huntress, in which case it was easily subdued, but it was just as likely to flee, in which case it would escape easily. She approached, and the incubus noticed her, locking his eyes on her. She held his gaze.

Good. That was the first step.

The incubus stood, captivated, unable to move and barely able to think, as Dulce stepped gradually closer. Her hand touched his, without breaking eye contact, and she worked on the kilt that started at his rocky torso and ended at his knees. It twitched down, until she finally dislodged it, sending it fluttering to his feet. The tip of his cock nearly touched her.

'That's it,' I thought. 'Now move in. Take him.'

Instead, Dulce made a grave mistake. She pushed the incubus onto his back, then, shedding the bottom of her outfit, she plunged onto his ready cock, sending a moan into the heavens. She practically jumped up off his body with each buck, packing all of her youthful energy into every movement.

I sprinted for her, noisily tearing through branches and shrubs, then hooked my arms under hers and yanked her away. Before the incubus could react, I pinned him with a hand on his chest, just above the base of the ribcage, and took his cock in my free hand. I pumped, feeling Dulce's hot juices squelching under my fingers. His cock kept stiffening, until I felt a tightening that I knew well. I could feel the waves of cum pumping up through the underside of his cock moments before white ooze came surging out the tip.

I stayed on him, waiting for him to start struggling, but he never did. His breathing became slow, and his eyes focused sedately on me. This incubus was weak- he had less stamina than a human male.

"What was that?!" cried Dulce, collecting herself. "What did you do that for?"

"You nearly lost something much more important than your masterpiece," I said gravely. "You almost lost your sanity. I'm sure you're aware what happens when an untamed monster boy ejaculates inside a woman? She becomes subservient to him- a thrall, trapped in a dreamlike state."

"Some girls can handle it. Olga the Invincible did. Didn't she?"

"She did. Legends would have you believe it's infallible, but few women have succeeded in all of known history. Please understand, those women were absolute masters of their trade, and they were lucky at that. I won't have you take that kind of risk."

Dulce's face strained with anger. Then, with visible effort, she stopped herself and breathed deeply. "I'm sorry." she said.

"Don't fear. You've learned a valuable lesson. Now, this boy is docile. Can you show me how to lead a docile demon boy back to camp?"

Dulce smiled sheepishly and walked up to the supine monster boy, uncoiling a few lengths of rope from her pouches. Part of the rope formed a collar, tied with a type of knot that would not choke him, and another length led from the collar down to his testicles, separating them and squeezing them just enough to cause a bit of pain. The incubus whimpered a little as the knot went on, and I was unashamed to feel a rush of heat.

"Good job," I said to Dulce, as she attached a leash to the collar. "Now lead us home."

For a few minutes, we marched back through the forestry, heading straight for Valgemaa. We moved slowly to accommodate the incubus, who followed the leash in a wide-eyed stupor, but Dulce was in no mood to rush. She stared at the floor, and her cheeks were red with something other than arousal.

"If it's any consolation," I told her, "you're a skilled lover. That incubus took very little work before he reached orgasm."

Dulce smiled weakly. "Master?"

"Yes?"

"Is it true that, if a monster boy comes inside you, but you resist the mind control... is he your slave? Instantly?"

I judged that Dulce knew better than to repeat her mistake, so I decided to tell the delicious truth. "Yes," I said. "He'll form a bond with you immediately. You'll scarcely need to train him at all."

Dulce nodded and kept looking at the ground.

Back at the council hall, the three of us ducked through the fur that hung at the entryway as quietly as we could. Inevitably, people saw Dulce and the docile incubus, and they raised a cheer. Dulce brushed them all quietly aside.

"He's not mine," she kept saying. "I failed."

Jens approached her with the same expectance, but, unlike the other huntresses, he instantly knew that something was wrong. "Mrow?" he said. "Master? Something wrong? Is the boy docile?"

"Yes, he's docile," Dulce groaned, "and I'm still an apprentice. That's Master Aronson's catch. And I'd be dead if she hadn't taken it."

"Lost," I corrected. "Not dead."

Jens' ears fell back, and his tail drooped. Then he perked back up. He stepped up to Dulce and pressed himself to her side.

"Love?" he purred. "Hm? Want to make lo-o-ove?"

"Not now," she sighed.

"We won't convene for well over an hour," I said. "If you want sex with him, you have ample time."

"Not now. Not until I'm a master."

I nodded, knowing I couldn't convince her. I turned away, deciding that I wanted a lover. My mood called for a boy who was delicate and precise, like an elf, or maybe a fox boy. But as my eyes played across the male figures in the council hall, they saw something out of the ordinary.

A young human male knelt on a stretch of cloth, his arms pressed together behind his back. He didn't wear a stitch of clothing, baring every inch of his smoothly muscled body, from his rippling legs up past his tightly wound stomach and his sharply defined chin. A wooden bar with two small loops on either end ran between his knees, keeping his legs spread, and his cock hung straight out from him, turned pink with excitement. His mouth gaped open, held there by a strapped metal ring, and a slip of black cloth covered his eyes.

I stepped up to him, my interest piqued. I knew that he could hear me coming, because his back straightened as I got close. I walked around behind him, admiring his firm butt, which, to my delight, was already reddened with a few handprints. His arms were bound together with a pentad of cords, and a tiny sack was tied around his wrists, covering his hands.

I decided that I wanted him. Already, I would have loved to make use of his tongue, but the thought of unraveling him, string by string, slowly unfolding his delicious body, filled me with excitement.

"Do you like him?" asked one of two grinning young men who stood behind him. "He lost a bet back at the farm, so now he's available."

Giddiness took over me. This might have been someone's husband, trussed and displayed as a surprise for her. But instead, this was an unmarried farmboy, which meant that he was any woman's man.

"Bring him into the shed," I ordered, rubbing my hands together. "He's too delicious to let sit."

The tied-up boy blushed beneath his blindfold. With widening grins, the other two men each grabbed two corners of his cloth and hoisted him up, then bore him out of the building. I followed, enjoying the sight of his balls swinging between his strong legs.

In cool, musty darkness of the shed by the huntress hall, the two unbound farmboys set down the treasure in the middle of the floor. One of them tousled the hair of the bound boy, and the two bearers sprinted off.

I eased the heavy wooden door shut and waited a moment as my eyes adjusted to the meager light that filtered in through the roof. The tied boy shuffled around, and his breathing quickened. I decided to toy with him.

"Hello, boy," I said, in my most sensuous voice. "I hope you're skilled with your mouth. We'll be putting it to very good use today."

He licked his lips, and his shoulders started heaving.

I stepped up to him, letting him hear my feet crunch on gravel. I extended my right hand into his mouth. Warm saliva slathered against the skin of my cold fingers.

"Suck on my fingers," I ordered him. "Worship me."

His tongue curled around my fingers one at a time, pleasuring them with his warm, wet muscle. I pulled my hand out, and he leaned forward, still looking for my fingers.