DISCLAIMER:

The following story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of pure fantasy; it's thus, completely fictitious and doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it in any way whatsoever.

 

This story contains sexually explicit scenes between characters that are underage boys, characters that look like underage boys and adult male characters.

This story is being created and published with the sole purpose to be consumed as a means of entertainment for a purely adult audience; If you are underage please refrain from reading and/or interacting with this work of fiction as well as their author.

 

No living being has been hurt in the creation and/or consumption of this fictional story (except for maybe my editor).

The author is not responsible for the inappropriate handling and/or consumption of this work of fiction, nor any penalties or otherwise punishments derived either. The only ones responsible for our safety and what we consume on the Internet are our own selves.

English is not my mother tongue so, if you see any spelling mistake, syntax error or something that otherwise doesn't make sense, then please do let me know so I can make the appropriate corrections.

 

This story has been partially inspired by "The Family Business" by Author Abbados and has his permission to exist; additionally, the fictional world this story takes place originally started as a Saint Seiya fan-fiction but it has since evolved into its own independent thing. Certain elements, however, may rely on the original source.

 

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Cupid Inc.

~Prelude: Stolen Love~

Somewhere in Mexico,

June 20

 

This world is divided in many forms; not all of them are known to those who call it home.

 

Tender and unhinged youths ran through the dusty pavement with special glee, filling the old neighbourhood of tightly packed, gated square brick and mortar houses with their childish laughter as they pass by, a worn down football rolling between the skinny legs of the leader of shirtless youths as the weary elders watched them go, some annoyed by their relentless scandal and some others with a glint of nostalgia in their old eyes.

 

And amidst those divisions, they move freely, fragile and small creatures whose task is perhaps, the most underappreciated yet the most important of all of creation.

 

Unnoticed by the playing boys, neighbours and passers-by, another youth sat by, big brown eyes and curly brunet locks framing a niveous skin that was more reminiscent of milk than the lovely shades of light brown displayed by the nearby boys.

 

But it wasn't the colour of his skin what made him stand out like a sore thumb; it was his strange clothes, seemingly out of a fantastic tale: a windy white tunic that reached mid thigh trapped by some sort of armour that left his midriff and thighs exposed and gave him small but detailed metallic wings.

 

"Working hard, I see?" a familiar voice spoke softly, throwing the conspicuous youth out of his concentration.

 

"M-my lord!" The youth turned around to receive his superior with the required formalities but he was stopped before he could put an armoured knee on the ground.

 

"No need for formalities, Noah," the newcomer corrected the boy with a kind gesture. "Tell me, how fares your charge?"

 

Those who set things in motion, and guard the greatest force in existence.

 

"She's... ooph!" Noah couldn't finish his sentence for the worn ball landed on his lap, throwing his grimoire to the floor; prompting the girl sitting next to him, his charge, to pick up the ball without acknowledging him and throw it back at the boys.

 

"Be more careful next time!" she yelled at the younger boys. "You almost hit me!"

 

The girl's quick reaction prompted the boy's superior to laugh relentlessly, stretching his golden wings as he did so.

 

"She's lively this one, eh?" The blond laughed audibly without anyone but Noah noticing or acknowledging it. "I'm sure you'll find her a good partner."

 

"M-my Lord?" The brunet asked once he had recovered from the surprise. "Pardon the question, but what brings you here?" he asked, nailing his eyes to the ground.

 

His superior stopped laughing and changed his carefree demeanour for that of a serious face, his golden wings stretching with caution.

 

"One of my arrows is missing," he responded to the boy. "and the trail led me here."

 

"But who would do such a thing?" Noah inquired, trying to wrap the idea of such a thing happening around his head, how could he, of all people, lose an arrow?

 

But such a question was meant to remain unanswered, for a new presence took hold of the place, effectively replacing the languid carefreeness of the youths, seen and unseen with an unequivocally feeling of overwhelming dread and fear.

 

"Noah, take cover!" the blond shouted as he placed the brunet behind him before surrounding themselves in a golden light.

 

Yet, there are those who crave that which they guard.

 

Alas, it was too late. A sudden hissing followed by a loud wet thud rent the air.

 

"M-my Lord!" Noah shouted at the sight of his superior, the fiery red arrow that had gone missing had been found and had claimed the blond's chest as it's new home.

 

"Noah," his superior called, his voice sounded sheepish and drunk. "Your charge..." the elder of the two unseen youths pointed out to the girl lying on the floor, and Noah's heart skipped a beat.

 

She had received the arrow too, as a heap of bright red particles sprouted from the hole in her chest. And what made it worse, she was looking at them, at his superior in particular, Noah knew what that look in her dark eyes meant.

 

Love.

 

They had been struck down by a love arrow.

 

"My lord, you mustn't." The brunet tried to stop his superior. "It's forbidden!"

 

"Go home, Noah," the blonde said, his blurry hazel eyes fixed on the girl's dark brown. "I'll take it from here."

 

 

~Chapter 1: Puberty Pains and One Very Bad Day~

 

King's College Chapel, Cambridge, England.

Friday afternoon.

15 years later. March 14th

 

The King's College Chapel was almost as famous as the city itself; admired by many for its magnificent architecture and beautiful stained glass windows. But, none of it's features was nearly as beautiful as the treasure it housed.

 

It was the choir, above all else, what made the old temple so special, no less than 16 boys raised their voices to the heavens in unison, which resulted in one of the most amazing sounds produced by mankind. The popularity of the choir was so big that a small audience of students, professors, parents, and other passers-by would form even when they were in practice!

 

Today was one of those days, as the boys sang words forgotten by time from transcriptions of old dusty books; the people, many among them regulars, would gather watching with glee as how the afternoon sun would break down into a thousand colours as it entered the chapel through the stained glass and illuminated the choristers' tender faces while their soft voices seemed to transport them to another plane of existence.

 

But even among that perfection, there was one who stood out; not only due to the beauty of his voice, but due to the age of its owner.

 

The song reached its end before most people had realized, it's last note dying on the lips of the lead singer, a boy with long flocks of hair who's colour seemed to change from brunet to blond with the light. Silence reigned supreme and absolute in a sobering moment that felt quasi-spiritual.

 

"Alright lads! That's a wrap for today." That was until the Director's old creaky voice broke down the illusion, replacing spiritual catharsis with happy chaos and laughter as the choristers went from perfect little angels to just boys who were happy to go home and start their weekend.

 

"Andre, may I have a word, lad?" The elderly director placed his bony hand over the shoulder of his lead singer, his fading eyes filled with sadness.

 

The boy immediately stiffened under the touch of the old man, he felt a powerful chill that ran down his back that wouldn't let him be; he felt so nervous that he even forgot to correct the old man, his name wasn't Andre, it was Andres.

 

"Did they answer, Mr. Hopkins?" Andres placed his blue hazel eyes on him with fear and expectations.

 

The sight of Andres' adorable face, full of hope and fear was too much for him to bear, so he reluctantly lowered his gaze to the floor.

 

"Y-yes, they have, lad."

 

"Well, what did they say? Can I stay?" the boy asked in a harsher tone that he would have liked but he knew the answer even before the practice had started; he could see it particularly clearly now in a way that it was hard to explain, how his old teacher's heart shrunk in shame and anger; but he had to hear it from his lips, in hopes he'd be mistaken. He could feel every beat of his heart banging against his chest like an iron mallet against a flimsy paper wall while a strange sensation lingered on his back.

 

The old choir director felt the words escape him, if only he was younger, he wouldn't allow those pompous imbeciles who took the decisions to get away with this. "You see lad," he started speaking, if only to cut the awkward silence between the two. "Your case has been reviewed and taken into consideration, but since you're no longer a student of King's College School and have already turned 15 and are attending Cambridge High School for Boys they have reached the decision of not allowing you to continue in the choir," he confessed with a heavy voice. "I'm sorry."

 

As his name would suggest, Andres hadn't been born in England, nowhere near the United Kingdom in fact, but he had spent 15 years of his life in it, so he did what any native British male would, he bottled up his despair, sadness and tears and pulled a facade so he wouldn't upset the old man any further.

 

"Oh, I see," he spoke in a small voice, feeling that if he'd spoken any louder, he'd cause a scene. "When is this effective?" he asked, trying not to let his voice crack.

 

"Effective immediately, my dear," the old man spoke with a shaky voice, silently boiling in rage and shame.

 

The boy thanked his former teacher, picked up his black school uniform blazer and left the chapel with dry eyes, a strange stinging pain on his upper back and a myriad of strange feelings that weren't his.

 

***

 

Men's Toilets, somewhere within the university.

Later that same day.

 

Andres left the fourth stall after what must have been an hour or two. He adjusted his black uniform and washed his face in hopes that he could hide the shameful fact that he had been crying.

 

He looked at the mirror and saw but a petty child disguised as a high schooler; the tears had left his eyes reddened and puffy with deep trails on the soft skin of his cheeks. He tried to stand straight to measure his height, but it seemed useless, he barely had grown an inch or two since the day he turned 12. His body had barely changed as well, not a single hair had grown on his body outside his mane and his voice had yet to show any sign of breaking any time soon, for all the good that had done him.

 

"Ness! Thank heavens you're here mate, I've been looking for you all over this damned place!"

 

The boy turned around as he heard the raspy voice and there he was, Noah, one of his best friends in the whole world; wearing the same black uniform (it fit him so much better) with his warm brown eyes perpetually framed by thick black glasses, filled with worry and that strange feeling that overcame him every time he saw him. Ness wasn't quite sure how he knew, but he was certain that what he felt when he saw his best friend was Noah's love for him.

 

"They kicked you out, didn't they?" the brunet spoke rather than ask.

 

Andres tried to put up wall after wall and a thousand facades, but when he saw those eyes, they all crumbled in an instant. Noah's arm had already wrapped themselves around him when he started sobbing again,

 

"I-I thought," Ness spoke, unable to hold his tears any longer, "if I could have stayed, just a little bit longer, then maybe it wouldn't be so much of a freak, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be like this."

 

"It's ok mate," Noah whispered to his ear with a tenderness reserved only for him; only when they were alone. "You can sing to me whenever you want."

 

"It's not that, Noah," Ness responded, feeling comforted by his friend's closeness and warmth. "Singing in the choir made me feel I belong," he confessed, it really was all he ever wanted. "What am I supposed to do without that?" Ness had known he was different from a very early age, having lost his mother upon his birth and with his father being nothing but a great unknown without a name and without a face. He instead was raised by a family that wasn't his, that of his maternal aunt and uncle who had loved him as if he was their very own and took him to this country that wasn't really his.

 

Yet, despite all of this, his life hadn't been that different; with his friends Noah and Ethan and his dear cousin Noel, the four boys lived a childhood filled with laughter and adventures worthy of a book of its own. But it all started to change upon his 13th birthday, or rather, stopped changing.

 

Unlike every other boy his age, Andres had yet to go through puberty and it had started to show; several dozen tests had been performed, each one more shameful than the previous one.

 

Having a stranger in a lab coat handle his family jewels was one thing, having that same stranger make him orgasm (and squirting quite an impressive amount, in their own words) just from their fingers was worse than shameful; alas, it had been for naught, all the test had come quite inconclusive, despite some peculiarities, (like a bigger than average super sensitive prostate) he was a perfectly healthy 15 year old boy.

 

"Well, well, if it isn't Angie and Angelico," a deep and familiar taunting voice followed by familiar laughter burst through the toilet room, making both boys separate immediately.

 

But the world is not kind to those who step out of line, or fall back, and it wasn't about to make an exception for him.

 

"Fucking shit! If only Ethan were here," Noah cursed their luck as he placed himself between the newcomers and Ness.

 

"Oh, you wanna fight, sod?" The newcomer approached a trembling Noah until both boys were face to face, towering the brunet for a few inches.

 

"Just bugger off, Eric!" Noah defied the older looking boy and his friends, making him sound older and wiser.

 

Noah's defiance, however, failed to impress Eric and his goons who just laughed at his display.

 

At age 14, Eric was better described as a mountain of a boy, having left all the tender softness of childhood behind to fully embrace the adult forms in all ways but the most important of them all.

 

The two boys behind him, were akin to him and together they took great delight in reminding the other boys who had yet gone through such extreme changes of how little their worth was and how unmanly they were and as such, Ness had become their favourite victim to torment.

 

"Noah, it's no use, aaaahg!" Ness tried to stop things from escalating further, knowing what the other boy and his cronies were capable of doing when the pain in his back started to intensify at an alarming rate.

 

"Ness, what's wrong mate? Ness!" The brunet looked behind him only to find his friend crouching in pain while something was moving underneath the back of his coat.

 

Despite the boy's yelling, their bullies seemed determined to torment them.

 

"Come on sissies, ya want this?" he taunted them as he cupped his junk in one hand; Noah would have loved to bury his fist right in the middle of that shit eating grin but Ness stopped him.

 

"No," Ness spoke for the first time, the pain had seemed to have subdued momentarily, though he was sure something had happened to his back since he could feel blood stain his shirt, he felt good right now.

 

"Hey, don't speak, can you stand?" Noah helped the smaller boy to stand using him as support, however it was clear that his support wasn't needed.

 

Ness stood on his own with some level of difficulty and looked around, he soon realised that his back hadn't been the only thing that was affected, something had changed; he felt different from before, as if someone had rammed a fibre optic cable to his brain; he could feel it inside him and all around him; suddenly the world seemed brighter, he could notice even the most minuscule movement, appreciate the faintest of aromas, and was this the universe he was feeling?

 

He then turned to his bully who immediately stepped back in a mix of surprise and confusion.

 

"But you do," he spoke slowly, almost in a drunken stupor, "all three of you do. You've been wishing for it to happen for the longest time, but you're afraid of your feelings and what people would call you if they saw you like that, sodomite!"

 

"N-no!" Eric tried to deny Ness' words but it was all for naught, it only took one look at his two goons and their resistance fell apart. As if on command the three boys started kissing with wantonness as they ripped each other's clothes until two very erect and very hard cocks were revealed only to disappear in Eric's mouth as he fingered his own erection and ass with abandon.

 

Ness's knees grew weak and unable to sustain him for much longer. He would've fallen if Noah hadn't caught him first.

 

"Right, Let's get you out of here," he announced to no one in particular and carried Ness out of the toilet room bridal style meanwhile the two goons, lost in a frenzy of unrestrained lust attempted to perform a double penetration on Eric's behind.

 

"I can feel it move, Noah," Ness whispered without looking at anyone in particular. " the earth is moving!" the boy yelled, attracting all sorts of strange looks in his direction, causing the brunet to move faster.

 

"I know you do, Ness," Noah told his charge, "but try to hold on until we're out of here."

 

"I can see everyone," the boy spoke with a half smile and his eyes aimlessly roaming the cold stone halls full of students. "I feel what they want, and I know exactly what they need."

 

"Shit, Ness, don't!" Noah tried to stop his friend but it was too late.

 

It all started innocent enough, a kiss between two close students, but it escalated quickly; one kiss turned into 10, and before they knew it, the faculty had their pants down their knees amidst an endless parade of hungry holes of all kinds, young and old waiting to be filled, erections ready to fill them up and soft breasts and rosy meat on display; trembling softly as it was caressed.

 

Professors and students alike, inside the classroom and in the gardens, all the taboos were broken that day as Cambridge found itself consumed in a cloud of lust and chaos.

 

The last thing Ness saw was two choristers pressing their smooth sexes against each other as they raised their voices inside the chapel once more.

 

And with that image still dancing in his mind, everything went black.

 

~Fin~

 

 

Hi there!

 

Hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as me and my very lovely editor (who has worked tirelessly so that I can share this with you today) have!

 

I would like to go on record that, even though it may not look too much like it, this is an erotic story and will eventually contain hard explicit sex scenes, just not from the get go, so I thank you for your patience and please look forward to it! ;)

 

I'm known as either O49, or Zuke and as you can see I enjoy writing shota fantasy erotica, so here I am!

 

If you have any comments, feedback or anything you'd like to let me know, then don't hesitate to send me a good ol' email at plaguedoctor884@yahoo.com -or- if you live in the XXIst century, you can join us on Discord by following this link! https://discord.gg/Yt8u8TQ

 

Hope to hear from you soon!

 

Cheers!

- Zuke.