The Brown Unicorn

A Fantasy

Rocco Paperiello


This story is intended to be just a fun story. But it will include some intimate relationships between young males. If you don't approve or are offended, then how come you're reading this? Go to some other Internet Site. (Of course some people actually cultivate being offended; if that's the case, read right on). As far as detailed descriptive sex acts, I think you may find some good ones in other stories right here on Nifty, but as of now I do not envision a lot of explicit detail in this one.

If, for some legal reason, you are not allowed to read this in your area of the world because of illogical laws, again I will not condone (publicly) anyone breaking the law, so either move or read sentence four. I definitely don't want the thought police after either of our callipygians.

Please, this story is the product of my imagination, so if you ever want to quote some of it, please e-mail me and also give proper attribution. As of now no one has permission to put this story on another Internet Site.

This story is entirely fictional, and no character is fashioned after any living being.

Note that an author enjoys feedback. It will be appreciated and all e-mails will be answered.

Rocco Paperiello

This is the second story I have posted on Nifty. The other story, "Two Boys," is in progress and can be found under Young Friends or Interracial.


Chapter 1 -- A Fateful Conjuring

The country of New America was the lucky result of 1200 of earth's more ambitious and adventurous souls who set out on a quest of grandiose proportions, landing on a previously unknown planet -- even if not it's original destination -- whose nature was only now being fully realized. If someone would describe the current geography, flora, and fauna of this country to any scientist of today (earth scientist that is) you would be laughed out of his presence. This for two reasons. One, an alien evolution could not possibly have rendered it so identical in so many aspects to that of earth; and two, the description of some of its residents could only be considered the product of an over active imagination of someone who had evidently just read one of the oft written fantasies of the long ago twentieth century -- griffins, and goblins, and dragons, and unicorns and elves, and the such simply couldn't exist.

And in this country, nestled in the seemingly dead end cleft at the base of the mighty Needle Mountain Range, lay the small town of Little Jump. At first inspection, all one would see was a small pre-industrial town, heavily reminiscent perhaps the late 1800s of the pre-amalgamation era, of the American west. Of course on closer inspection there would be a few oddities observed, not the least of which would be the surprisingly clean and mostly mud-and-horse-manure-free streets. You could, I suppose, begin with city-hall and the sheriff's office for a start. For such an apparently primitive technology of the population, you would be surprised at the sophistication of the ruling counsel. With but one exception all were elected officials. The counsel met at least once a week, and more often if necessary. (And were not paid). And just who were those was sitting on this council would be even more surprising. This year there was the banker, and the founder of the town's first mercantile's great, great grandson. (Both very worthy citizens indeed). The town's blacksmith was also there but only as a courtesy -- he was not a voting member. It was in fact his helper and more improbably his personal Negro slave, sitting next to him, who had been elected. Across from the banker sat a small young woman who had recently graduated from the Denvertown College with an advanced degree in "Herbal Medicine and Other Magical Remedies." Just across from the worthy merchant was his lover and highly regarded language expert. (That his lover was another man raised not the slightest eyebrow). He was also one the country's experts in deciphering the old scientists' script, and because of the recent discovery of the original colonist's landing site, now in great demand. You could also commission him to do some dowsing on occasion. Next to him was seated (if you could keep him in a chair) the one individual who DID occasion wild stares and conversation. It was definitely not common to see someone almost entirely naked just tromping down main street, even if the person was someone's slave. Certain purveyors of flesh, ostensibly deplored, yet seemingly an always inevitable segment of any town's population, strolled down some of the streets in skimpy attire, but this was quite beyond skimpy. Of course this helper was not exactly an elected member. Quite some years ago the town magician had been offered the only permanent, non-elected seat out of respect (and if truth be told as an added "incentive" to get a magician of his significant ability to come to such a backwater). But he invariable cited some important business that required his attention elsewhere and so he usually sent his own personal slave boy as his proxy who proved much more adept at local politics than the magician himself. And in no ones memory has the magician ever allowed his slave to be clothed -- an unusual situation even in such an unusual society. (The blacksmith -- who was not black -- had assured his own slave -- who was black-- that even if he [the blacksmith] had difficulty keeping his eyes off the amazingly beautiful thaumaturgist's helper, he was only window shopping). Rounding out the council was, Madame Mortense, the formidable woman who ran the town's weekly newspaper and one of its only two printing presses. She also doubled as a mid-wife on occasion when needed. And it was in this regard that she rose to some eminence -- apparently she had the uncanny ability to decipher not only if a newborn was a reincarnated individual, but frequently could even determine just who this individual had been in his or her past life.

An additional feature of this town, definitely more reminiscent of medieval Europe, was its castle (rather small for such an edifice, and owned by the magician), and the healthy fortified stone wall that strangely now only encircled about half the town. (Its huge stones were currently being taken from the wall -- which was deemed no longer necessary to hold at bay all manner of dangerous and magical creatures, and put to better use expanding the town's irrigation and sewer system. The town`s magician was well able to far surpass the wall`s effectiveness in this regard). There was also the hustle and bustle of at least a successful economy if not a burgeoning one. Another of the town's anomalies, and perhaps its most striking, was the high aerie at the very eastern edge of town, which had long since been carved out of the solid limestone that formed the base of the Needle Mountains. But more than just its immense height and massive formations, it was home to what still draws wonder and awe even today from the town`s long term residents. For the aerie was a Dragonkeep. And pivotal in the town's economy. It was the dragons and their riders who surveilled the pass over the Needle Mountains, helping to keep the route safe for merchants and other travelers to and from the thriving eastern coastal cities. One more factor contributing to the town's recent rise in importance is that this most southern pass over the Needle Mountains, provided the shortest route between the west coast and east coast cities. And now that most of the countryside between those two coasts can now be kept safe from the area's previous proliferation of dangerous wildlife, not to mention the occasional griffin or manticore, this route is fast becoming one of the most important trade routes on the continent. The ruling counsel has become has recently been very busy deciding just what measures will be needed in the very near future since their little town of Little Jump may not be little very much longer.

In fact it was in anticipation of this very fact that recent "discussions" among the counsel members related to just how fast, and at what cost, should the current expansion and improvement of the town's roads, water, and sewer systems be pursued. The final consensus -- as fast as the town coffers could permit. And speaking of coffers, there was that new and pesky problem that some members of the counsel were certain, if not directly, was at least indirectly related to the town's growing ties with its nearest neighbors -- the Sequoia Elf Clan. Everyone knew that where ever was found an Elf, there also the country's mundane, non-magical population invariable found trouble and mischief. It seemed to be inherent in the species very genetic structure. At least it was supposed. (True genetic mapping of course being one of the many subjects of folklore, no longer available in a world with no technology more complex than that of a steam engine).

Getting back to this "pesky problem," after the banker chided the counsel members to stop their invariable bickering concerning the relative merits of the recently enacted treaty with Queen Maginde, ruler of the Sequoia Clan of the Elves.

"Please Bryan, you of all people, who has so much to gain by the increased town revenue, should be supporting our closer ties with the Sequoia Clan of the Elves. You own two of the town's general merchandise stores. Stop yapping about these so-called unruly Elvin youths traipsing through our town and get back to more important business. Unless we can get the dragons back into the air, to help maintain their survelance of the Tiresome Pass through the southern Needles, the treaty with the Elves will become a moot point. Without the dragons and their riders cooperating with the Elves, the pass can once again become too unsafe for passage. And unless we get that, . . ., that, . . ., well that unicorn out of our town park, the dragons will continue to be too unsettled to safely put our riders onto their backs."

Fortunately the town counsel was made up of reasonable and responsible people -- thus quite atypical for people with political aspirations -- and so the counsel came to a quick decision and hopefully operative solution. If the unicorn could not be made to leave until it "found" a suitable companion, they would engage their resident magician to "find" such a companion. The only opposing vote was surprisingly from Madame Mortense who argued that since they now had the treaty with the Elves, why not let THEM persuade the unicorn to leave their town in peace. Others argued that this would probably not be feasible since even the magical Elves were a bit weary of a unicorn, and that also the unicorn would most likely NOT leave without a companion.

The very next day, in the small and surprisingly unostentatious castle, the very slave boy, who voted with the counsel just the day before to commission the resident magician, was now scurrying about, anxious in his preparations for this evening`s conjuration. Everything needed to be just so. Tonight, at the behest of the town's respected leaders, his master would be performing, if not powerful magic, at the least, powerfully important magic. The unicorn had been out just beyond the city gates and making home of Big Tree Park -- the town's magnificent stand of Sequoia -- now for almost two days. (This name indicative of the original town's resident's lack of imagination). And inexplicably its call has not yet been heard. Heard by that one boy deemed most suitable.

Tonight they would do a summoning. They would join their not insubstantial magical powers to find that one human boy who would apparently be destined to be the unicorn's life companion.

Thus only after a minimal debate, it was finally agreed by the town counsel that the town coffers could come up with the necessary provender to hire their town's resident magician. Though a small town like Little Jump could only attract a magician of lets say not the most powerful abilities, nonetheless, they believed him definitely capable of performing such a simple conjuring. No doubt it should barely even take a level three feat of magic. And rightly so every one believed.

Of course there were two -- perhaps not coincidental -- factors, which would cause quite an amazing happening this very night. The first (something already suspected by some), was that their town magician had a greater measure of arrogance that was really good for him, and an equally abiding lazy streak. Thus the current preparations for tonight's summoning, and the writing of the scroll of power, were left to the slave boy and was totally unsupervised. Hence, a tiny mistake was left undiscovered. The second factor, this totally unsuspected by the town counsel (except by the slave boy in question), was the fact that it was the magician's long time slave boy, and most dedicated servant, who actually wielded the lion's share of their combined magical power. (And it was the small arrogance of the magician himself that did not allow him to fully admit to himself that his own slave was by far the more powerful of the two). But, as is inexplicably not totally understood, by individuals not comprising the planet's slave contingent, the boy himself cared little for his own advancement. It was not within his nature. It did not seem important for him to enlighten even his own master, where much of the necessary ability and power actually resided. In point of fact, the boy simply loved his master, and has been doing everything in his power over these many years, to help him succeed in his career as magician. Hence, the possible calamitous result of this tiny mistake will have been avoided, by this source of power so far not fully tapped. And thus an amazing event would occur.

This summoning, of course, was a direct result of the creature -- a rare unicorn -- that had taken up temporary residence in the park just outside the town's (mostly missing) walls right below the Dragonskeep. (And much to the riders' dismay, it was keeping the dragons themselves quite restless and on edge). In addition, not only was this a magical creature in its own right, some of its herd were even known to possess their own magical ability. Though, to be sure, it was rare that they were capable of more than level two.

Most the town's residents were somewhat in awe of the magnificent unicorn. Though truth be told this particular one seemed quite small for this usually stately clan, and it color was, well not to incur its possible wrath since it indeed could possess powerful magic of its own, well let's just say it was not of a usual hue. No indeed. In fact who ever heard of such a mundane color for such a creature? (Of this magical breed, its members, though very greatly resembling the old Arabian horses of old, though somewhat larger, were almost always covered in a more "Magical" color, like bright blue, or brilliant green). So, however, just to be on the safe side, no one in town would actually speak aloud of this unicorn's light brown color as a possible defect. Who knows? Perhaps the unicorn could magically listen in. Definitely, no one would be so rash as to utter that this color was of inferior aspect. But what the town was making a heated topic of conversation was how was it that so extraordinary a creature would come to their so small and so less than ordinary town? Why not New Boston, or New Frisco, or even the capital city of Denvertown? Why to little, and definitely unheralded Little Jump? No one could offer any reasonable explanation. And furthermore, to the exasperation and worriment of many, why, after two full days, has no new slave boy from their town discovered that his own fate was now tied to that of the young unicorn? And answer the unicorn's presumed call? No doubt that was its apparent mission here. To find its life companion.

It was well known, of course, that most male unicorns are fated to find their future out side of their herd. Even though a new male birth among such a mighty and magical group of creatures was indeed rare, there is still occasionally a new male born who in no way can challenge for supremacy among its leading stallions even after attaining its full growth. Although the young are kept within the herd until reaching maturity within eight to ten years, many young males are forced to move on. And so these near mythical creatures migrate out into the relatively mundane world of humans seeking a life companion. For no where else will they find one. And for as long as memory can serve, only a male slave boy has ever been sought out by them.

Though readily understood to be sentient, a fact that was less understood by most of the people on this planet, was that, with only minor variation, the relative intelligence of a specific unicorn was also on par with the individual's magical ability and power. And the brown unicorn was very intelligent. And in a short time, as he reached the fullness of his considerable powers, this particular unicorn would be capable of level four magic --a heretofore unprecedented occurrence. At this level, it would be one of the more powerful practitioners of magic on the entire continent. There were perhaps only a half dozen magicians capable of the highest level five. (Although the great Queen Adrienne Roberta Maginde, ruler of the Sequoia Clan of the Elves, was rumored to possess at least some abilities not readily put into any hierarchical category of magic).

And all of these were human. In certain instances, two magicians may momentarily attain a higher level of synergistic magic by joining forces, but these instances were not very common. One factor limiting cooperation was the fact that only one individual could wield the combined power. The other magician must therefore necessarily not only leave himself totally vulnerable to the other, but once he has allowed the other to wield his power, to that extent his powers would be permanently diminished. It was only a rare set of circumstances which would persuade one magician to permanently yield up his power in this manner.

Of course there was one other circumstance in which such a synergistic melding of power has taken place on this planet. It has occurred in rare instances where one of the magicians was a slave, and therefore of a nature and mindset to permanently yield up his own power to enhance that of his master. And this was about to happen to a degree and under circumstances not seen before on this planet. Not just once, but twice. And under two vastly different venues. One would involve the town's own magician, and the other, this very same unicorn. Coincidence?

And so on this fortuitous night, Magician Cenderen, a relatively notorious artisan of the magical arts began his preparation for the evening's summoning. (In other words) Cenderen asked his esteemed slave: "Boy, are all preparations completed?" (You wouldn't know it by the magician's manner toward his slave, but in his own way, the degree of affection in which he held the boy was appreciable. Even more than appreciable. The previous year, Cenderen traveled more than 500 miles to the town of Jastville, rightly known for practitioners of the healing arts, to find a witch capable of curing his slave of his multiple tumors -- usually regarded to be fatal. He never let his slave boy discover that a considerable portion of his not too immense wealth -- but significant none the less -- was delivered to this witch for the cure).

"Yes master, all is ready. The circle of acquisition has been drawn with the purest sand and most exact dimensions. And the scroll of power is ready. The incantation exactly worded." The boy bowed before his master, his deference more in form than in fact. The boy after all served his master more out of regard and love, than by the fact of his servitude. (And in spite of the boy's appearance, he had been with his master for more than 40 years). In contrast to the almost nearly nude form of the black slave, Cenderen wore robes of the finest silk and embroidery. The slave wore a somewhat ornate chastity device which although functional, left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The magician, indicative of his serious purpose, would not allow himself to be distracted by the apparent youthfulness and beauty of his boy. (A youthfulness that cost the magician a not insignificant portion of his power to maintain. And the boy was not unaware of this).

And so the conjuration was begun, with Cenderen gradually taking up within himself his own inherent power and that long yielded to him by his esteemed slave. When the full measure of power was assumed, a relatively fast process, the Magician carefully intoned the Words of Power -- the very incantation that would command and direct the power thus assumed. But immediately after the conjuration was intoned the magician became instantly aware that something had gone calamitously wrong. The spell was demanding for more power that was anticipated, and more devastating was the fact that the power demanded was much more than the magician had ever wielded or assumed he was capable of wielding.

The boy, though a passive participant, also realized that disaster was imminint. And that he had just two choices. One he could withdraw from the conjuration and save himself, but almost assuredly allowing the death of his master, or he could relinquish every last erg of his power to the use of his master in the hope that both of them might just possibly survive. For once a conjuration of this magnitude was engaged, it had to be successful or else. Of course, even after 40 years the boy had held a modicum of his own power in reserve, to ensure him of at last a minimum of power for his own use as needed.

Just last week he used his power to save the baking of his master's favorite pastry which had unfortunately been left in the oven just a tad too long. And the day before he used his own power to break the bonds in which the magician confined him in a pique of temper when the slave had pointed out to his master that perhaps his stamina, after a lengthy period of lovemaking, just possibly seemed to be waning a trifle. Of course the boy had waited for the master to leave for a turn in his study. What his master never discovered couldn`t hurt either of them. (The boy was right; of course the magician was nearly 60 years old after all. Even if he had the appearance of a healthy 40 year old -- a visage that the slave found quite to his own liking. Now if he could only keep his magician master alive for another 100 years or so he would be quite content).

Of course, to the slave there was no real choice. Life without his master was no longer life. Thus they battled with all their might to contain the unleashed energy.

The magician made one last appeal: "Boy, you must help or all will be lost! Please help!" The magician was more desperate than he was sanguine about the boy's ability to furnish greater power. He had already shown the ability to wield at least as much power as the magician himself possessed. So it came as quite a surprise as the boy took on a control of power far in excess of his own master and allowed every last portion of it for his master`s use. He held nothing back, full well knowing that he himself would never have any magic left for his own use. He will have given its entirety to his master. The master felt himself finally able to at least to maintain the spell. Why it was taking so long for its final result was unknown. But he was at least aware that survival was now at least a probability. Lights of unimaginable hues continued to coruscate around the entire chamber. Level five magic emanated from the small circle of acquisition. A level of magic assumed to be quite out of reach for a magician such as himself. The magic was so powerful that even the most meagerly talented practitioners felt the unleashing of power as much as a hundred miles away. And every level five magician on the continent was well aware of this conjuration -- if not of its purpose.

Suddenly, in a blaze of negative light, a concussion of air was moved out from the circle. And after a moment of blindness, both magician and slave were quite relieved when a small boy appeared in their midst. They were finally successful!

The powers were released and the magician and slave nearly collapsed. And the small boy who appeared in their midst looked up in total disbelief and confusion. Just a moment before he had been pacing back and forth in front of his home trying to decide which of his older siblings would be the best bet to take him in. Or if he should try his favorite uncle. But now all those thoughts were wiped from his consciousness, as he looked around the small circular room in which he found himself. The walls rose to a small skylight, which at this time showed merely a smattering of bright stars. The walls were completely unadorned and of a light wood whose type he could not quite place. He looked down and saw what appeared as a series on intertwined circles and rings of at least three different colors of fine sand. Of course, the light given off by the six wall lanterns -- lanterns? -- gave off minimal light and he was not quite sure if he was seeing all the different colors properly. Looking up again he saw a youthful looking middle aged man in a voluminous robe that started in a wide color and ended in a full length skirt of a fabric that had the appearance of silk. Its embroidery was more extensive than he had ever remembered seeing on any woman's gown. Why the man was prone on the floor gave him grave worry until he saw at least some small movement and heard a low keening sound. He took one step toward the prone body when he tripped over the leg of a second individual not at fist noticed in the dim light. And because of his extremely dark skin giving little contrast. But what now amazed the boy was the realization that this figure was entirely naked. His interest was instantly engaged by the amazing form of the youth's naked back and buttocks. The boy felt himself getting instantly aroused. "Not now damn it" he thought to himself. He bent down to see if the black boy were OK. He took hold of the boy's shoulder and turned him over. He gasped at what he saw. A penis sufficiently large to instill envy in most was contained within some elaborate cage looking device. Part of the entwined metal threads also encased a healthy set of testicles. The device was the only adornment; there was nary a stitch of clothing! And how exactly this weird contraption was held in place he was not sure. The boy had to force himself to disengage his interest in this unusual spectacle to make himself shake the youth to see if he could be revived. He then was about to feel for a pulse when he heard a loud groan from the prone robed figure now to his right. At almost the same time the black youth began to stir.

The small boy stood and watched in total wonderment as the two other people finally revived enough to stand and look around themselves. Both of them immediately began to speak in a language that sounded as if he should be able to understand but couldn't quite grasp. The robed man started vehemently berating the black youth. The youth himself appeared to be trying to explain something to the older man. Suddenly both looked at the boy and tried to address him. The boy became even more bewildered. Where in the world was he? It did not yet occur to him that that was not quite the correct question to ask.

Copyright 2006 by Rocco Paperiello