FIGMENT
By Wes
Leigh
This is a work of wild fantasy
intended solely for the entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any
real people or places is purely coincidental. This story involves romance and
sex between adult men as well as between men and teens and preteens, some
incestual. If you are uncomfortable with any of this, please choose another
story. This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright
laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the
author's consent.
Readers who would like to chat
are encouraged to contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.
If you enjoy this story, please
support the Nifty archives today with a thoughtful donation by visiting https://donate.nifty.org/.
͠ ͠
͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠
͠ ͠
Kar va menta sar're namo Shee
Quessir? Sar're fil ent humel. Va ni'duret
Ath feer!
Why do you think we're
called fey elves? We're fickle and silly. You can't trust any of us!
͠ ͠
͠ ͠ ͠ ͠ ͠
͠ ͠
"Hey, Caleb, can you help me out?" Trace asked as he walked
into my bedroom the next morning.
I rolled over, groggy from the night before. Figment and I
had stayed at the scenic overlook for several hours, hugging and cuddling as
the moon rose into the sky. We had finally left around 11:00, returning to a
dark and silent house, where we climbed into bed and fell instantly asleep.
Figment was still asleep, wrapped around my side, using my chest as a pillow.
My
voice was scratchy as I mumbled, "Sure, Trace. What do you need?"
He
sat on the edge of my bed and playfully squeezed my cock through the blanket.
"I need a favor after school."
"Does
the favor involve your hand and my cock?"
He
chuckled and gave me one final squeeze, then said, "Nah. But I'll give you a handjob if you help me out."
I
yawned and said, "What's the favor?"
"I
need a haircut. I know just what I want to get, and the place at the mall does
a great job. I need a ride after school because Dad can't take me. He said he's
working late."
"Okay,
I can do that," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.
Trace
patted my chest and said, "You better wake up Figment. We leave for school in
thirty minutes." He stood up, poked my cock, which was now tenting up the
blankets thanks to Trace's earlier fondling, and laughed as he left the room.
"See you after school."
Figment
groaned next to me. "What's Trace doing in our room?"
"Asking
for a ride after school."
Figment
rolled over quickly, glanced at the clock on the wall, and yelped, "I'll be
late." He threw off the covers and jumped out of bed, dashing into the ensuite
bathroom. I had to admire his naked butt as he ran off. So cute!
I
heard the sound of pee tinkling into the toilet, then water running in the
sink. A minute later, Figment came out of the bathroom, struggling to comb his
curly hair. "Can you find me some clothes to wear?" he pleaded. "I'm gonna be late."
"I
like what you're wearing," I replied with a grin.
He
glanced down at his naked body, smiled, and wriggled his hips. "I'm sure the
teachers will be thrilled to see me like this, but Dad probably won't let me
out of the house without at least a pair of underwear."
I
tossed the bedding aside and walked over to give Figment a morning hug. "You
look cute in whatever you wear, but let's find something to cover that adorable
body. I don't feel like sharing it with your entire school."
͠ ͠
͠
That
afternoon, I sat at a table in the food court, enjoying a fruit smoothie,
waiting for Trace to get his hair cut. I suppose I was lost in thought,
thinking about Figment and his wild stories about his family's past, so I
didn't notice Trace walking up behind me until he shouted in my ear, "What do
you think?"
I
jumped. Trace laughed and slid into the seat next to me. He turned his head
from side to side to show off his new haircut. It was trimmed tight on the
sides and left longer, wavy on the top.
"It's
nice," I replied. "Looks good on you."
"Check
this out," he said, turning his head a little more. The hair on his left side
was clipped with a small sunburst emblem. "Radical, right?"
Eyes
wide in surprise, I nodded. "It sure is."
"All
the guys on the team are doing it. Max had a dolphin cut into his hair. Gabe is
getting a howling wolf."
"Your
dad is okay with it?"
"Yeah.
It gonna connect us together as a team, so it's all
good."
"Let
me see it again?"
Trace
turned his head. I touched the design the barber had trimmed into his tight,
curly hair. A blazing sun with rays shooting in all directions. It fit his
personality perfectly.
"I
like it, Trace. It looks good on you."
"Thanks,"
he said, smiling.
"You
want anything? A smoothie? A drink?"
"Nah. I spent all my money on the frankencut."
"It's
on me." I gave him a few dollars.
"Thanks,
bro!" he exclaimed, taking the money and heading for the nearest vendor. He
returned with his own smoothie—banana and mango—and placed the change on the table.
"I love this combo!"
As
we slurped our drinks, I decided to talk to Trace about Figment's imaginative
tales. "Your little brother will make a great Dungeon Master one day."
"Which
one?"
"Figment."
He
wrinkled his nose. "Why do you say that?"
"He's
very creative," I replied. "You should hear some of the stories he tells me."
Trace
slurped his drink, swallowed, and said, "He's always been that way. Making up
goofy stories and stuff. Dad thinks it's funny. I think it's stupid."
It
sounded like I knew what Trace would think, but I still had to ask. "He told me
your family was from the Feywild and that you were
all Eladrin."
Trace
snorted. "He would say that."
"And
then he changed the story," I continued. "He said you were all illusions
created by a master magician. The magician spoke the language of the fey elves,
so that's why you all speak Eladrae so fluently."
"Haha,
yeah, that's it!" Trace exclaimed. "I'm an illusion." He chuckled as he drained
the last of his smoothie and belched.
"I
guess I'm concerned for your brother. It seems like he's using fantasy to avoid
facing difficult situations in life."
Trace
shook his head. "You don't have to worry. Figment is right."
I
stopped sipping my drink and stared at Trace.
He
nodded. "We ARE illusions. Drew is the magician. You notice how Drew always
plays a wizard or sorcerer or something like that? It's because he's actually a
fey elf illusionist. Dad isn't real. I'm not real. Figment isn't real. Only
Drew is real." Trace laughed and wiped his lips with a napkin, then he leaned
in and whispered. "Drew is actually 800 years old. Fey elves age very slowly,
so he looks 13, but he's really old. And he's dangerous."
I
shook my head in frustration. "Trace, I'm trying to be serious here."
Trace
laughed and asked, "Well, what do you want me to say? I think Figment is a
little insane in the membrane, but Dad says he just needs more time to sort
shit out."
"Have
you noticed him getting any better?"
"A
little," Trace admitted. "He seems calmer when he's with you, and he's
obviously talking now, so that's good, right?"
"Yes,"
I admitted. "There is that."
Trace
pointed at my drink. "Are you almost done?"
I
sucked up the last of my drink and replied, "I am now. Why?"
Trace
held up a finger. "I have one more tiny favor to ask."
"What's
that?"
"Follow
me," he said, standing up and picking up our empty cups. He headed for a trash
bin and tossed everything inside, then waved for me to come with him.
He
led me to the restrooms on one side of the food court. We walked in the men's
room and Trace looked underneath the stalls. They were empty, so he opened the
far stall door and walked inside, motioning for me to join him.
"What
are you doing?" I asked.
He
smirked and replied, "Getting your help with that favor."
"What
are you up to, Trace?"
"You'll
see. Come here."
I
walked to the door of the stall, and Trace grabbed my hand, pulling me into the
stall with him. Then he latched the door behind us and maneuvered me so I was
sitting on the toilet facing him.
"Here's
the thing," Trace began. "Sitting in school all day, I get horny. No way to
take care of it, so by the end of the day, I'm ready to explode." To prove his
point, he unsnapped his jeans and tugged his pants and underwear halfway down
his thighs. His cock was hard and throbbing, all eight thick inches of it. He
pulled my head towards his groin with one hand and pointed his cock at my mouth
with the other.
I
put my hands on his belly and pushed him away. "Trace. We can't do this. Not
here. It's a public restroom."
"No
one will see us," he said. "Even if someone comes in, we're back here in the
corner where they can't tell what we're doing."
"If
they look underneath, they'll see two pairs of feet."
"So?
If someone comes in, lift your feet up and all they'll see is mine. Please,
Caleb. I'm fuckin' horny. Help a guy out," he urged.
"I
think it's a bad idea—" I tried to say, but he worked the tip of his cock into
my open mouth and shoved it in. Reflexively, I opened my mouth wider and sucked
in a breath. Trace took advantage of the moment to shove his cock against the
back of my throat.
"Get
it wet all over," he begged, sliding his cock in and out. "Like that. Yeah,
that's good."
My
initial concern over Trace's impulsiveness was rapidly being overwhelmed by my
desire for Trace's heavy cock. I could smell the musk coming off his crotch,
and I began to want him in my mouth almost as much as he wanted to be there. My
only hope was he'd be so horny it would be over in thirty seconds and then we could
get out of here before we were caught, but judging by the boy's stamina in the
past, I didn't think that was likely.
I
pulled my mouth off and slurped hard on the cap, feeling a sticky gush of
precum squirt out onto my tongue. I licked it off and lapped all around the
ridge of his cock, making him groan softly. Moving down to his balls, I sucked
each one. Trace held my head in his hands, pushing his hips forward and
pressing his groin against my face.
I
looked up and saw a look of intense concentration. He saw me staring and bit
his lip. "Can you get back on my cock, Caleb? I like it when you suck my balls,
but I really want you to deep throat me."
I
grabbed his cock and pushed it back against his belly, then licked from the
base to the tip, smearing spit all over, moving up and down the thick shaft to
cover it with my saliva. Then I pulled his dick down, pointing it at my mouth,
and took him in, sliding halfway down. The tip of his cock pressed against the entrance
to my throat. I took a deep breath and pushed forward, forcing it to follow the
curvature of my throat.
Fortunately,
Trace had a slight downward bend, and he slid into my throat without too much
trouble, making me gag only a little. He pulled out slightly, waited for me to
catch my breath, then slid slowly deeper, giving me time to get used to the
huge spongy tip that was blocking my throat. With each slow thrust, he pushed
deeper, until I felt his belly pushing against my lips.
He
stroked the front of my throat. "Swallow my cock, Caleb. I love that feeling."
"Mmm kaay," I hummed.
"Oh,
yeah. Keep doing that," he moaned. "The vibration feels awesome!"
I
had to push him away to get more air. He waited, and when he saw me take a deep
breath and hold it, he began quickly face-fucking me, smashing against my face
and forcing his cock into my throat. His gentle caresses were gone, replaced by
wild, frenzied lust.
Every
dozen thrusts, he pulled out slightly and gave me a
chance to suck in frantic breaths through my nose. Then he started again, grabbing
my head and pulling me against his groin, quickly thrusting in and out with
such power I thought he'd bloody my lip.
At
one point he giggled and said, "You're turning kinda
purple, Caleb."
I
pushed him back until his cock popped out of my mouth, dripping with my saliva.
"That's what happens when you can't breathe!" I exclaimed.
"Sorry,"
he apologized, but then he aimed his cock at my mouth and started pushing it in
before I could say anything else. "I'll go faster," he promised.
And
he did. He slid his cock into my throat before I could get a full breath of air
and immediately began throat-fucking me, slapping his belly into my nose and
his balls against my chin. When I thought for certain I'd pass out from lack of
oxygen, Trace stood up on his toes and forced himself as far into my mouth as
he could. I felt his body shake as he violently came, pouring his cum down my
throat.
He
slid most of the way out, leaving just the tip of his cock in my mouth. Sharp,
tangy cum oozed out onto my tongue. He urged me to keep sucking, drawing out
the last drops.
Then
he pulled out, leaned down, and kissed me on the mouth, licking my lips and
tasting his own cum. He smiled and said, "Tastes pretty good for an illusion,
doesn't it?"
͠ ͠
͠
Drew was my designated assistant chef that night, which
meant dicing tomatoes, chopping onions, and slicing lettuce for tacos while I
browned meat and added seasonings. Drew never minded when he was asked to help
in the kitchen, and I suspected he would one day enjoy cooking himself, judging
by the interest he showed in the kitchen.
"What spices are you using?" he asked, watching as I pulled
containers from the cabinet.
"Mostly red chili," I replied. "That's the primary taste you
want. And a little black pepper, onion salt, and beef bouillon. A tiny dash of
cumin and oregano. They're both pretty strong, so you don't want to overwhelm
the flavor."
"Don't they sell taco flavoring?"
"Sure, but I like to make it from scratch. Try different
things, you know."
Drew nodded. "I get it. Are we doing hard tacos only?"
I pointed to a package of flour tortillas. "I thought we'd
have hard and soft both. What do you think?"
He giggled and jiggled his crotch. "I like hard and soft."
"I deserved that," I admitted. "Set you up for it, didn't
I?"
He giggled again. "We can have hard and soft tacos for
dinner and hard wieners for a midnight snack."
I smiled and ruffled his hair. "Are you horny every minute
of the day?"
"Pretty much," he replied. "Aren't you?"
"Not as horny as you boys, but I'll admit I'm enjoying all
the fun nights since you guys moved in."
Drew looked at me sideways. "Are you going to be able to eat
tacos tonight?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
He smirked and said, "I just thought your throat might be
too sore to swallow."
I turned and gave him my meanest glare. "Why do you say
that, Drew?"
He obviously didn't think I was serious, because he giggled
and pretended to be sticking a cock in and out of his mouth, poking his tongue
in and out of his cheek. "I heard your throat might be sore after your
afternoon in the mall restroom." He grabbed his stomach and laughed out loud.
I advanced on him menacingly, holding my hands out to grab
his shoulders. "And who told you that?" I growled, trying not to smile.
"The boy with the biggest dick in the family," he said,
snorting.
"Do you believe everything he says?"
"No. Was he lying?"
I smiled and squeezed his shoulders. "He wasn't this time,
and my throat is a little sore, but I can still eat."
"I knew it!" Drew exclaimed.
I tilted my head and studied him carefully. "You knew what?"
"When Trace got home from the mall, he didn't want to do
blowjobs or anything with me, not like he normally does. I figured he probably
wasn't horny because you guys did something together at the mall, so I asked
him what you guys did. He said, `None of your business, you little creep,' and
that was all he would say. But all week long, Trace has been talking about how
much he loves it when you deep-throat him, and your voice sounded a little
scratchy just then, so I figured it all out. I'm smart, you know."
I shook my head in amazement. "You tricked me, you little
bugger!"
"Yep. I did," Drew said, smiling big.
I jumped at him, grabbing him before he could get away, and
tickled his ribs. He squealed but didn't try to get away. I pulled him against
my chest and hugged him. "You're a rascal. You know that?"
He nodded and pulled my hand down to his crotch. "You can
have a hard one right now if you don't wanna wait for
dinner."
"Right here in the kitchen?" I asked, turning the heat off
under the taco meat. It was done and ready to serve.
"I'm not kinky like Trace," Drew said. "Let's go in your
bedroom." He took my hand and tugged, leading me down the hall. By the time we
reached the bedroom, he had unfastened his pants and worked them down below his
butt, turning around to show me his soft thighs, throbbing five-inch dick, and
small patch of dark pubes.
He reached forward and unsnapped my pants, eager to get me
semi-naked too. When my cock plopped out of my underwear, he grabbed it in one
hand and stroked it while fondling my balls with his other hand. I wasted no
time reaching for his thin boner and hairless balls.
"What did you have in mind?" I asked.
"Sixty-nine," he said, backing up to the bed and jumping to
land in the middle. He patted the spot next to him, motioning for me to lie
down.
I stretched out next to Drew, stroking his inner thigh,
marveling at how soft it was.
He did the same, looking down at me, watching me. He grinned
and stroked my leg from my knee to my ball sac.
I extended my tongue and licked his cock from the base to
the tip.
Drew did the same.
I held his dick between my thumb and finger and sucked only
the cap into my mouth.
Drew took my cock in his hand, holding it with a finger and
thumb, and slid his mouth over the tip, sucking gently.
I bobbed halfway down his cock, stopping and grinning at
him.
He tried to do the same, mimicking my actions exactly, but
gagged when my cock touched the back of his throat. He pulled off and smiled at
me. "Can't go as far down as you."
I kept bobbing up and down on his cock, sliding to the base
and holding him in my mouth.
Drew didn't try to imitate me, but instead licked all around
the end of my cock, making electric tingles shoot from my balls to my cock.
Pulling off his dick, I said, "That's just as good."
He smiled and continued licking, but I noticed his hand
sneaking between my legs and one finger playing with my pucker. Two could play
that game. I slid one hand past his balls and found his hole with my finger,
teasing the edges and sliding partway inside. Drew moaned and pulled his hand
back, sucking on his finger to get it wet, then moving his hand back to my butt
and sliding his wet finger slowly past my sphincter. I wet a finger and found
his hole, pressing gently until my finger popped inside. His hot, velvety
smooth bowels gripped my finger, squeezing and gripping as I pushed deeper
inside, stopping when I felt the rough bump that I knew must be his prostate. I
prodded gently, making Drew jump and thrust his cock into my mouth. Definitely
hit the spot.
Unlike his brother Trace, Drew didn't have as much control
over his body, and it was only seconds later that he stiffened, pushed his
groin against my face, and held himself rigid. I stopped probing with my finger
and waited as his body quivered, emptying his young load in my throat.
When he finished, he seemed to collapse, falling limp before
me. Only his dick remained stiff, throbbing slightly as his orgasm slowly
faded.
His cum was nothing like Trace's. Watery, sweet, with only a
trace of bitterness. I was enjoying my dessert before my meal, I realized.
Drew shook himself and renewed his assault on my cock and
butthole. His finger darted in and out, not getting far enough inside to
stimulate me, but still causing tingles every time he forced his way in. My
cock, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying the energetic bath his young
mouth was giving it.
I relaxed, pulling my finger out of his butt, and gently
sucked on his cock, drawing out the last drops while avoiding the sensitive
tip.
Drew grabbed my balls with his free hand and squeezed them
with just enough pressure to make me gasp. He knew how I like a bit of extra
testicle tugging while getting a blowjob, and it was just what I needed to send
me over the edge. My cock began lurching, sending globs of cum into his mouth. His
cheeks bulged out, and though he tried valiantly to swallow every drop, half of
it seeped past his lips and dripped down the sides of my cock onto my belly and
balls.
He eagerly licked up whatever had leaked out, then sat up
and smiled at me. "How was that?"
I turned and pulled him down next to me on the bed, hugging
him to my chest. "That was wonderful, Drew. The perfect way to start my meal!"
He giggled. "Do I taste good?"
"Delicious. I could eat you every day and never get enough."
He giggled more and asked, "As good as Trace?"
"Well, that's hard to say. The flavors are very, very
different. Trace tastes like ... a spicy taco, and you taste like a bowl of ice
cream."
He snuggled closer and asked, "What does Dad taste like?"
"Oh, he's a big, delicious steak sandwich."
Drew laughed and punched me in the chest. "You're teasing me
now."
"I'm not," I assured him. "I love the taste of each one of
you. All different, but all magical."
Drew got quiet then, and I began to wonder why.
"What's wrong, buddy?" I asked, stroking his cheek.
He looked up at me and frowned. "Trace told me what he said
about me being an evil sorcerer. He said he told you that everyone in the
family is an illusion that I created. That's mean."
"He was just joking, Drew."
"I know, but it was still mean. He was making fun of
Figment, and I don't like that."
I continued stroking Drew's cheek, adding, "We all deal with
things in different ways. Trace can be rough with his actions and his words,
but that's how he works out his emotions. Figment does it with imagination. You
do it with jokes and playfulness."
"I know, but Trace makes me mad when he says mean things. I wanna punch him, but I don't, `cause he'd clobber me."
"I understand, Drew. And it's okay." I paused and then
asked, "How about you? What do you think of Figment's stories?"
Drew shrugged. "They're okay, I guess. I'm glad he's talking
again, but sometimes I wish he'd stop talking about the Feywild
so much."
"Why?"
Another shrug. "I don't like thinking about the land we left
behind. I like it here, now, with you."
͠ ͠
͠
Once again, I had a lot to think about, so that night, I sat
on the back porch, staring at the stars blinking like diamonds in the cold
winter sky. There were thick clouds blowing in, obscuring the moon, a sign that
snow might be on the way.
Figment walked out of the house dressed in a light tee-shirt
and short pants. He walked up to me and climbed into my lap, cuddling with me.
"Aren't you cold?" I asked, wrapping my arms around him to
keep him as warm as possible.
"No," he replied. "Fey elves aren't bothered by cold. We
live in mountains, some higher than these, and there's always snow on the
ground. Winter doesn't bother us as much it does humans, or half-elves like
you."
"Oh, so you've decided I'm a half-elf?"
"Yeah. Half human. Half fey elf."
"Really? My parents might be surprised to learn that."
He pressed himself deeper into my arms. "They aren't really
your parents. They adopted you, took you in, and raised you as their own."
I smiled and hugged him. "I wonder how I got here, in
Colorado."
"It was an accident," Figment whispered. "You weren't
supposed to come here, but you wandered off one day and found your way here.
The trip must have been hard on you, because you can't remember where you came
from any more."
"Hmmm, I guess that's why you and your family came for me?"
He nodded. "Yes. We're here to bring you home. To bring you
back to the Feywild."
"That sounds wonderful, but I find myself loving Colorado.
What if I decide I want to stay here rather than return to the Feywild?"
"You won't want to stay. You need to go back, and you're
finally realizing it." He slipped his arms farther around me and hugged me,
desperately it seemed.
In that moment, I stopped noticing the cold in the outside air,
though I now felt a chill in my soul.
The end of Chapter Ten of
FIGMENT