“Ahh. Wine as… as red as—hic—me.”
A red-scaled figure reclined on the bed, a cup of wine hanging from a lazing hand. He
swirled it gracelessly, grinning childishly as stray crimson splashed out to stain the green silk
below.
“Oho. More work for the peasantry…”
A thin glare watched from a seat beside the bed, golden sunlight falling on white and
brown feathers.
“You’re drunk,” the second figure said, hawk-like complexion glancing at the dark spots
on the sheets without amusement. The red lizard’s gaze raised.
“Oh? And suddenly—hic—you’re not?”
The bird rolled his eyes, staring at the scarlet-brimmed cup in his own hand before
downing the rest sluggishly, movements weighed down by alcohol. Placing the cup onto a nearby
table with all the drunken gingerness he could muster, he slouched in his chair.
“Prince in a pigsty,” he said, speech as sluggish as his posture. The Prince’s brow rose,
more amused than offended.
“As if bird boy could down another glass. Light as a feather, three cups drunk.”
“It’s Horus,” the hawk said, toying lazily with the cup on the table. The Red Prince went
back to drinking, the contents of his cup disappearing within but a few moments. Empty again,
he held it out impatiently as if awaiting service.
“Wine,” he said. A small figure emerged from the corner of the room, elegant pitcher in
hand. An owl, feathered white and brown, plumage hidden beneath a light silk robe. Walking
over to the Prince’s outstretched arm, delicate motions saw the cup refilled with a gentleness
opposite to the lizard’s gracelessness. Though, the Prince’s gaze was anywhere but his glass,
eyes trailing over the petite form pouring him drink.
“You know… he—hic—kind of looks like you…”
The Prince’s hand came out to seize the boy’s side, another splash of red staining the
sheets as the act interrupted the servant’s pour. Fumbling to keep more from splashing, the owl
stiffened as the rough hand pulled him closer, the touch drifting to more indecorous places. The
Prince glanced over to Horus, who—like himself—plainly wore nothing but a lavish loincloth,
then back at the littler bird as if comparing the two.
“Ha! He’s… take your clothes off. We… compare.”
The smaller bird’s widening gaze fluttered to the Prince’s crotch, the fabric of which had
shamelessly started to bulge. The impatient tug at his robe commanded, however, and he set the
pitcher aside. Unsure, thin fingers undid his garments, folds loosening until the silk slid off his
shoulders and onto the floor, leaving little but a loincloth—and a previously-concealed
leash—over his own slim body. The Prince’s eyes widened.
“He does look like you,” the lizard said, motioning to Horus with his glass, gaze drifting
between the two curiously. His free hand, however, seemed even more curious, pulling the owl
back in to roughly admire the boy’s less-appropriate parts.
“You brought him here?” the Prince asked Horus. “I don’t really—hic—remember my
servants…”
“A gift,” Horus said.
“Well,” the Prince continued, his overt erection swelling, “I have a lot of wine-pourers…
he can do more than pour wine?…”
The Prince looked to the leash, then to Horus, who was also gazing drunkenly at the owl.
“Can he?…”
Horus shifted, avoiding eye contact.
“I don’t mate with… mortals.”
“But you—hic—could.”
“…Impure.”
“I want to,” the Prince said, gripping the boy’s ass and pulling him close to the bedside,
the lizard’s shameless bulge throbbing. “And I don’t believe you—he’s got a damn leash.
Bah—off with this dreary tapestry.”
With a sharp yank, the Prince’s free hand tore the loincloth from his scaled waist, tossing
it aside. Sighing deeply, he relaxed as his sex pulsated free, the long, off-red length swiftly
stiffening. Almost the size of his forearm, it twitched idly at full-mast, seemingly no thought
given to the indecent exposure.
“Off… off with yours,” he said, motioning to Horus, who was still watching the scene
with poorly disguised, drunken interest. Though, the avian didn’t respond.
“Come on,” the Prince egged, free hand digging beneath the owl’s loincloth, pulling it
free with a bout of tugging. A black cock lay beneath, the smaller bird’s posture tightening shyly,
his own gaze fluttering to Horus as if looking for pity. Though, the longer the god-bird stared, the
worse his concealment became, inebriated mind and impatient sex running out of patience.
Standing up, he meandered to the bedside with a clumsy stumble, he fumbled with his loincloth,
undoing it and throwing it aside to reveal a hardening, pink length just as big as the lizard’s, if
not larger. The Prince’s eyes widened, looking it up and down..
“Oho. I have… competition?”
Horus leaned against the bedside, steadying himself with his arms and staring at the owl
groggily. The Prince, cup still in hand, raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well?” the lizard said, motioning to the owl. “Skewer him or something. I—hic—bet
he’s tighter than the whores you’re used to… looks like a virgin.”
Horus turned to the naked owl, who looked unsurely back up at him. The Prince’s words
seemed to enter his head with ease, erection stiffening as he stared at the little bird. His hands
came out to touch the silky feathers, the supple body. Feeling, then groping, shy tenses meeting
his fingertips. Testingly, he pulled the owl to his groin, cock sandwiching against the smaller
bird’s chest, tip tickling chin as soft feathers tickled the god’s length. A hot sigh escaped Horus’s
beak, hips grinding into the sensation, up and down.
“There you go,” the Prince encouraged. “Dirty bird. Now, uh… raw him. I want to watch
that thing in action.”
It didn’t seem the larger bird needed the encouragement, eyes already starting to race
with need. Hasty, impatient hands grasped the boy’s shoulders—pressing, almost pushing him
onto the bed, Horus’s front in close pursuit. Leaning over the small, supple frame, a greedy grip
came to the owl’s hips, pulling his curves closer until the god’s pulsating length lay over his bare
abdomen—a concerning comparison, but not lasting long before the same restless hands parted
his legs, cock sliding back to dip under his balls. The owl’s eyes widened as the clumsy grasp
tightened, his body stiffening as the hot throb of flesh pushed, then parted his asshole with
earnest, the god’s girth sliding into his body.
“—Ah,” he gasped, his hips shying away, though Horus’s hands pulled them closer,
steadily feeding the gradually widening shaft into his bowels.
“Yes,” the Prince egged, drunken interest visibly growing along with the twitches of his
own dick. “Far—farther. Hic—break him… is he soft? Damnit…”
The lizard’s eyes flashed to his worsening erection hotly, a bead of precum crowning the
stiff length. Engrossed, his free hand came to his shaft, squeezing it tight with a sigh as he began
to stroke, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before returning to the two birds. Horus, however,
simply kept pushing, the boy’s hips tensing and tossing as tight bowels swallowed over more and
more of the thickening shaft, the god’s balls nearing and the owl’s groans sharpening. With
conviction, Horus’s hips greedily sank forwards, the last measure of his cock squeezing into the
smaller male.
Huffing, he staggered. Eyes half-lidded and beak half-open, he stared down at his pelvis,
now connected to the boy’s squirming torso. Tight clenches molested his oversized sex, cloudlike
innards squeezing every inch of his shaft, his firm grip keeping the length buried deep inside.
“It’s… wrong,” he murmured, “but…”
“But it feels damn good,” the Prince cut, still idly stroking. “To hell with tradition.
Mortals are smaller—and tighter.”
Hesitantly, Horus drew back—but not out. With a deep sigh, he pushed back into the
owl’s resisting body, then out again as he slowly began to give motion to the deed, sliding
methodically in and out with eager presses of his hips.
“Mm…” he grunted, brow furrowing as he indulged, reluctance slowly beginning to seep
away as the addictive sensation filled his drunken mind. The Prince smiled.
“See?”
Though, not immune to his own libido, the lizard’s golden eyes glittered with impatience.
Pelvis tensing as he idly stroked, his stare flashed to the owl’s front end—and the leash that lay
idly on the sheets. Gaze narrowing, he hasted clumsily to his knees, wine still in hand as he drew
forward. Closing the gap, a smug smile crept across his mouth as he loomed over the owl’s front,
clumsily snatching the leash with a yank and shoving his needy cock against the owl’s face.
“Lick it, slave. Or I’ll pour—hic—wine on your feathers…”
Fixated on the oversized spire steadily reaming his rear, the small bird stiffened as the
Prince’s endowment interrupted the act, hot flesh acquainting eagerly with his visage. Without
much choice, however, a hand gently came to the twitching shaft, grasping it gingerly and lifting
it up. Parting his beak, he delicately lowered the shaft between his jaws, tongue slipping out to
massage it with slow, sensual motions as he stifled gasps and groans.
“Ahh,” the lizard sighed, eyes closing as his cock pulsated to the owl’s attentions. Taking
a drink from his glass, he watched Horus glide in and out, the boy’s body rocking gently with the
smooth, indulgent motion.
“Dick him harder, would you? I thought you gods were—hic—sex machines…”
Almost as if following orders, Horus lifted one of the boy’s legs. Pulling back slowly, he
braced before driving his hips forwards with a thrust, the boy choking a groan.
“Ngh…” Horus grunted, the sensation amplifying as he hasted another hilt, then another,
the boy’s back arching as the god’s shaft skewered him open.
“S—slower…” the owl groaned, eyes squeezing shut as Horus’s inhibition began to slip,
humps roughening as the god used him like a tool, thrusting sloppily like an animal.
“Shut it,” the Prince bit, mood souring as the owl’s mouth left his cock. Yanking on the
leash, he ground his dick into the bird’s face, though the overwhelmed boy only gave more
whines and groans.
“Gods, you’re raucous,” the Prince scoffed. “Let’s shut you up…”
Pulling the leash tight, the Prince straddled the owl’s head. Tossing his half-empty cup of
wine on the sheets, he dug a thumb into the owl’s jaws, prying them open rudely. Ignoring the
little bird’s widening eyes and shaking head, a toothy smile crept across his face as he guided his
cock into the owl’s exposed mouth.
“Deep breath, pretty boy…”
Sharply, he thrust in. Cock squelching into the poor bird’s throat, the whines and cries
silenced with a gurgling gag, the Prince’s pelvis mushing against the little bird’s beak. Legs
widening, the lizard arched his hips indulgently forward into the owl’s face, grinding
complacently.
“A—aahh…” the Prince sighed, his sadistic expression melting into hot satisfaction, his
muscles limpening. “Fuck—mh. Pardon my mouth…”
Almost gingerly, his hands came to the owl’s head, batting the little bird’s scrabbling
hands away as he gripped both sides. Repeating the motion, his back arched as he sank another
deep thrust into the bird’s struggling throat, a wet sputter choking out around his oversized
length.
“Gods,” the lizard groaned, huffing hotly as wet flesh strangled his length in rippling,
squelching gags. “Keep—hic—doing that…”
Another greedy, merciless thrust dug into the avian’s gullet, then another as he hastened
into a rhythm, gripping the bird’s head tight as he roughened into a brutal fucking. Barely
controlling his inhibitions, not a care seemed to exist for the owl below, whose eyes watered as
his hands scrabbled at the Prince’s grip, desperately trying to pry him off.
“Ghk—mmg!” he screamed, esophagus plugged with the lizard’s slickened, oversized
meat slopping in and out.
“Do your—ah—gods scream like that?” the Prince teased, throwing a smug glance at the
god across him, who was still busy with the owl’s other end. Horus stared at the Prince’s hips
with heavy-lidded eyes, the lizard ravaging the poor bird’s throat, easily overpowering the pitiful
struggles and screeches.
“No…” he murmured, panting as he glanced down at his own end of the owl, which
wrestled with his grasp as his pelvis rammed, balls slapping hard with each thrust. It was
taboo—dirty. He would never penetrate a mortal, but it almost felt better. Unholy. Good. He
thrusted harder, his fervor matching the Prince’s, beak open as it mounted—the thoughts in his
head, the heat in his loins. Creeping forwards, the hot itch in his groin swelled, until suddenly it
broke forth. Gripping harder to drown in the sensation, inebriated mind and body hot and fuzzy
with pleasure, he thrusted hard as his cock pulsated in climax.
The lizard across watched as splurts of white squeezed out of Horus’s end of the owl,
sloppily scattered with hot, heavy thrusts that took far too long to wane, the large bird weakening
ever-so-slowly.
“That’s—ah—” he sputtered, heated expression melting a little more as the owl’s gagging
throat squeezed his cock again, a desperate attempt to force it out. “Mh—”
With a heavy groan, he ground his pelvis into the owl’s face. Panting, his cock pulsated
as his own orgasm burst forth, depositing deep within the little bird’s esophagus. A choked
sputter the only response from below, the bird’s windpipe flooded with pumps of hot, thick
fluid—though, unlike Horus’s end, barely any of it came out the way it came in, barely an ooze
escaping the corners of his beak.
Muscles weakening, the Prince drunkenly thrusted, barely keeping his balance amidst the
inundation of sensations. Lazily slopping in and out, idle groans poured from his lips as the
sensation lingered long, sapping the strength from his body until he almost lay over the owl,
propped up by his own arms. Breaths heavy, his hips idly gyrated, still planted against the owl’s
face as he refused to let his orgasm go, cock still idly twitching in the wet warmth even after the
sensation dulled.
Gingerly, Horus pulled out, a slop of white trailing after his cock. Drooling onto the green
silk below, it stained dark and strung to the owl’s ass. He stared at it for a moment before looking
at the Prince, pointing at the lizard’s groin.
“Are you…”
“What?… Oh…” the lizard said, looking down at the waning boy beneath him. Hastily,
he pushed himself to his knees, hips pulling back as a web of spit and semen exited the bird’s
mouth after his cock. With a weak sputter the owl heaved in a breath, followed promptly by a
bout of wet coughing and weak swallows.
“Oops,” the Prince said lightly, a small grin returning to his face as he stared at the
ravaged, recovering boy below. “I—hic—forget sometimes…”
He glanced at his hand, which was devoid of a cup. Gaze shifting to the sheets, where a
crystal glass and red stain lay, he sighed.
“I hate pouring my own wine…”