Drakeheim

Callom and Chirganon - Chapter 1

Author: thewatchercorp@gmail.com

This is my first time posting a long/multi-part work so I would appreciate any comments.

Callom and Chirganon - Chapter 1 ================================

Chirganon, Crown Prince of Drakeheim, quietly slipped away from the raucous feast hall. It was his eighteenth hatch day, and a banquet was being held in his honor. It was not often that the dragon king's only son became of age and available for courting. Chir always found the formal events at the citadel to be a bit stuffy. Still, at least the cups were never empty, and the tables were overladen with the finest delicacies the land had to offer.

So he smiled a toothy grin and danced with the ladies, lordlings, and worse, their sponsors. Each was more insistent than the last that they or their child or cousin was the right match to sustain the future of Drakeheim and provide him with a suitable primary mate. Chir shuddered at the thought of the old, portly Lord Grusson. The man had boldly offered his own hand rather than that of a relative. He might have gotten somewhere had he deigned to bring his young grandson, Elison, to the feast.

Elison Grusson was a half-elf born--not hatched--two years after Chir and had inherited all the beauty of his elven mother. Smooth, porcelain skin with bright blue eyes and platinum hair that caught the light like untouched snow regardless of the season. The boy was lean but strong with a cute smile and just a hint of definition to his lithe frame. And judging by the way he so effortlessly moved through his forms, Elison had also inherited the flexibility known to be common to his race.

As Chir reached his chambers, thoughts of the half-elf boy filled his head. Of the boy's smooth skin pressed closely against his ridges as they danced around the feast hall. Of the long and passionate kiss, they would share as the minstrels closed the final song of the night. Of the way, the boy's manhood would feel, stiff and pressed against his backdoor.

Oh fuck.

Chir was hard, his eight-inch cock straining against the fabric of his royal blue trousers. His father had kept him busy with court matters for a week, and he had not had time to relieve the pressure. The prince could not resist stroking himself gently through the fabric and letting out a soft moan. It had been far too long. He was going to have to hurry unless he planned to make a mess of his dancing suit.

Searching quickly through his armoire, Chir found a plain tunic and simple brown leather trousers. Typically, the prince would have had a servant to help him change, but they were all at the feast. And this was not the kind of outing that one enlisted servants to help with.

Checking himself over in the mirror, the prince was satisfied. Without the trappings of his royal wardrobe, he was just a normal dragon boy. Chir was taller than all but the largest of human with dark brown--almost black--hair and large, pointed ears. He was strong--for no true dragon wasn't--with a toned physique, but nowhere near as muscle-bound as his guards. The prince knew he was no model, but he thought himself reasonably attractive. And the tanned, ridged skin of his humanoid form went nicely with his violet eyes.

Yes, a very attractive dragon indeed, he thought, looking at his long, hard cock still visible through his tight leather trousers.

But tonight, I need to be human.

Waving his hand across his face, the image before him slowly changed. The small ridges that marked dragon skin with smooth human skin with all its tiny hairs. The hair on his head lightened to become a sandy blond. His ears shrunk and rounded until they were lost in his newly blond hair, and his eyes became a more natural green color.

Perfect. A normal--albeit large--human boy. He reminded himself of the stable boy they had when he was fifteen. The boy--himself not much older than the prince--had walked in on the prince in a private moment near the outhouses behind the stables. His eyes had gone wide with the shock of finding his prince in such a position. Though, Chir recognized the lust there for what it was. It had not taken much coaxing to find the boy on top of him, his tongue in his mouth. His warm, smooth skin pressed up against him. The prince's finger's replaced with the servant's hard cock pressing against his tail hole....

"Uhhhhh...," Chir moaned. He found himself stroking off to his own reflection and the memory of another green-eyed boy. He could feel his pre leaking into his trousers.

"I really need to leave," he said before grabbing his coat and doing just that. He had hopes of something much more fulfilling than pleasuring himself for his birthday.

It was just another night for Callom. He knew there was a big party going on at the citadel. That was why every room in every flea-infested inn was filled to the seams with hangers-on. And sure, that meant it was a busy night, but the Cock and Bull was always bustling. As head barman, Callom's job was to keep the drinks flowing and keep an eye on the clientele to make sure no one was getting too handsy with the servers.

Well, at least to make sure no one was getting too handsy in an unwanted way. The inn was old, dating back to before men marrying men or inter-species marriages were common. In those days, men looking for a little relief came down to the Cock and Bull to escape their loveless marriages for an evening. The alcoves that lined the room were perfect for a quick fuck between clients or with a willing serving boy who might offer up a plumb ass or a hard dick to satisfy their needs. Now, with the help of fertility magic and changing sentiment, the stigma was gone, but the Cock and Bull remained as it always was.

Even the requirements for staff hadn't changed much. They were still mostly young (but legal), working men aiming to make a little extra coin. They showed the great diversity of humankind even in Drakeheim, varying in skin tone and body type, but they held up the Cock and Bull dress code. There were three options for front-of-house staff: a form-fitting leotard, a loincloth, or just a winning smile. Callom's choice had always been the loincloth. Why hide the body he'd earned by spending his adolescence working as a dockhand?

"Hey, Branwen," Callom said to his partner behind the bar. "You got things covered here? I'm going to do my rounds."

"Yes, sir," said Branwen.

Callom snorted. At twenty-two, Branwen was two years his elder both in years and time at the Cock and Bull. Still, he was old-fashioned and called Callom 'sir' as his superior. Branwen was a pretty typical case of the men working at the Cock and Bull. One of the younger sons of a very virile tenant farmer in one of the outer villages, he'd come to the city when the family plot could no longer support them all.

And brought that beautiful, hard body with him. All that time sneaking ale had made him a little soft around the middle, but Branwen still looked every bit the farmer. Callom looked him over and licked his lips. Branwen was a leotard man, though it did nothing to hide his muscular, tanned legs or the casual, lean muscle under his newly tattooed arms. Add to that those stunning hazel eyes and that easy, crooked grin, and he was just delicious.

With all that farmboy innocence too....

"Thanks, Branwen," Callom said, stepping closer and leaning in to kiss his subordinate. There was a moment of surprise as Callom's lips met Branwen's, but then the other man eased into it as he always did. Callom pushed his tongue into Branwen's mouth, feeling the warmth of the other man's jaw. His dark hand explored Branwen's body from his square tanned jaw, down his neck, and onto the smooth, blue-green satin of his leotard. Callom's hand traveled down the fabric until he found his prize, Branwen's cock. It was by no means the biggest in the inn, but it was respectable and hard enough to cut glass.

Callom could feel a small pool of precum starting to form. Branwen was always such a leaky boy. Giving the cock in his hands a couple tugs, Callom broke the kiss.

"You'll be a good boy for me and take care of my bar, won't you," he said in a husky voice. He never stopped stroking.

"Yes, sir," Branwen moaned back. "Please, sir...."

"Please what?"

"I'm going to ruin my uniform, sir," Branwen replied, short of breath.

A whistle came from across the room.

Looking up, Callom saw they had an audience. Most all the men in the room were staring at the bar. A few had their cocks out, openly masturbating, and he could see the tell-tale signs of more going on under a few tables. Several of them were getting up with prominent bulges to join the queue for the bar. They clearly hoped to get a better look.

The man with the best view was first in line at the bar, an older dockhand judging by his bulging muscles and thematic tattoos. He wasn't quite jerking himself off, but it was clear that the way he was rocking on his heels had little to do with impatience. Instead, he seemed to be grinding against a well-polished ornament at cock-height on the other side of the bar.

"Well, we can't have that," Callom said, returning his attention to Branwen and releasing his grip on the man's cock.

"Thank you, sir," the man said meekly.

"I believe you have a line," Callom said with a nod to the dockhand.

"Yes, sir!" Branwen said, turning to serve the waiting customer with that same goofy grin.

Branwen worked the bar because--though he loved showing off--he was a bit timid and anxious around the customers. But having Callom or another member of the crew to get him in the mood gave him a boost of confidence. And someone always made sure to get him off at the end of his shift. Though more and more often recently, the former farm boy was taking a customer behind the bar during a lull!

Trusting that Branwen had things under control, Callom walked out from behind the bar. He knew his raging erection was clear as day in the tight loincloth and displayed it proudly. It wouldn't be the Cock and Bull without a little show. That was why even as one of the youngest members of the crew, Callom ran the bar and dining hall. He got what it meant to run the place and keep up the reputation.

Callom floated through the hall, making sure everything was in order. It was part of the job to shake hands with regulars and welcome first-timers, but also to make sure nothing was going wrong. Largely though, things were under control for once. He intervened in an argument between two men over dice before it escalated. And he made sure a group of out-of-towners, a gang of youths one of the villages celebrating their buddy turning of age, had a night to remember. Getting head from the barman at the Cock and Bull was a memory those boys would never forget. Especially since he hadn't let any of them finish before moving on to the next.

Callom smiled at the thought of how he'd left them in one of the smaller alcoves. Five still spotty kids with their hands on each other's cocks with the birthday boy on his back beneath his friends. When he'd gone in, he was sure only the birthday boy was into men, but they'd proved him wrong.

Probably proved themselves wrong too, he thought with a laugh.

It was as Callom was on his way back to the bar after helping bus some tables that he noticed a boy--or rather a man if he got past the age charms on the door-- standing alone at a table near the entrance.

"Hey, Branwen," Callom said when he made his way back to his station. "Do you know that man?"

Branwen looked up from what he was doing. He had a massive precum stain, outlining his throbbing penis, but that was pretty typical for this point in the night.

"No, sir," Branwen said. "I've seen him in here a couple times before. I think he used to come for Ioan. It's been a few weeks, though, and Ioan...."

"Yea, the bastard went over to the Steer and Cunt."

"The Steer and Cap, sir," Branwen said. "But yes, sir."

The Cock and Bull was the oldest pleasure inn in the city. There were older inns and older brothels, but taking an older pub and merging it with the brothel next door did not make it the oldest pleasure inn no matter what that liar cut at the Cap said. And appealing to both men and women of all persuasions didn't make it any better. The Cock and Bull had its niche, and it did well for itself, thank you very much.

"Know anything about him?" Callom asked.

"No, sir. But...."

Branwen blushed.

"Out with it."

"It's just.... Ioan used to say that he had a regular that would ride him in the private alcoves. The really expensive ones in the back and tip really well. He never said who it was, but could it be him?"

Before Callom could respond, Branwen was called away by someone wanting a pint, and he found himself staring at the man by the door. He told himself that he was interested in the cash and hated seeing a disappointed customer, but that was only part of the truth. The young man was gorgeous, and Callom needed a good fuck. Branwen or Kornell or one of the other guys were great, but he needed something new.

And this kid was just his type. He looked only just of age and would have fit in with that group from earlier. But whereas those young men were pale and spotty, this man had tanned, perfectly unblemished skin. He wasn't exactly the picture of manliness, slim--almost dainty--and so tall he was gangly. But he had stylishly unkempt, fair hair, and Callom could see those big, green eyes all the way from the bar. Even his demeanor was fetching. That confidence the man was trying, but not quite succeeding at projecting. Actually, he reminded Callom quite a bit of Branwen.

"Mind the bar again, Branwen," Callom said. He didn't wait for a response. Just pulled two tankards and made his way to the table.

"Hello," Callom said as he walked him. "Enjoying your time at the Cock and Bull?" He stressed the word 'Cock' and was amused to see the man in front of him jump. He's skittish too. How adorable.

"I--Yes. Hi. I'm fine."

"Glad to hear it," Callom said smoothly. He pushed one of the tankards towards the other man. "Here, have a drink."

"I--"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm the head barman. See the uniform?"

Callom gestured towards his bare chest and appreciated the way the other man's eyes scanned his body.

"Oh...," the other man said. That seemed to calm him a little, and he took a drink from his tankard.

"My name's Callom. What's yours?"

"Ch--Chandler," the man stuttered. Callom wasn't sure if the hesitation was due to a lie or just a general sense of unease, but he decided at this stage it didn't matter. If the kid wanted to be Chandler, then Chandler he would be.

"Nice to meet you, Chandler. Is this your first time in the Cock and Bull?"

"No," Chandler said, taking another drink. He seemed to have regained a little of the faked confidence. "I usually see someone, but he doesn't seem to be here tonight. He's always here at this time, though...."

"Average height? A little pale? Big muscles and even bigger cock?" Callom asked with a laugh.

"Yes," Chandler replied. His skin flushed with... embarrassment? No. Arousal. Callom licked his lips.

"That was Ioan," Callom said with a smile. "He's no longer with the Cock, but I'm sure we can find someone to satisfy your... needs."

Forcing himself not to look at the man, Callom took a deep drink from his tankard and pretended to survey the room. It was unnecessary. He knew where each and every crew member was what they tended to get up to with clients.

"Perhaps, Fabian," he said, gesturing to a pale man in a leotard cleaning tables in the back of the room. "He's usually thrilled to take a nice cock and likes them big like you."

Callom made sure Chandler saw his eyes fixate on Chandler's sizable bulge. The leather pants he wore covered more than the inn uniform but still left very little to the imagination.

"No. That's quite alright," Chandler said hurriedly.

"Why? Don't you find him attractive?" Callom asked as if he didn't already know what this kid wanted. What his cock was straining against those pants for.

"Oh, no," Chandler said. "He's very attractive. I mean, very attractive."

"Perhaps Clemens though he's in the back tonight. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time someone pushed him against a barrel and fucked him."

Oh, look. The boy's cock is twitching in those pants, and is that precum soaking through the leather? Almost have him.

"No. I don't need to...."

"I could relieve Branwen from the bar if you'd like," Callom interrupted, gesturing in the barman's direction. "I know he's dying for someone to take him into a room and fill his ass. Did you see the show we put on earlier?"

Chandler visibly gulped.

"Yes, sir," he said hurriedly.

Got him.

"It's just the other man, Ioan...."

"Was that a, 'yes, sir' that I heard?" Callom asked, interrupting again.

"I--"

"Now that you mention it, Ioan tended to skew more towards giving than receiving," Callom said, pretending as if it just occurred to him. "Is that what you're after? Another cock to fill you up?"

As he spoke, Callom made sure to step back from the table, ensuring that Chandler had a good view of the bulge in his tight loincloth. And look, he did. The kid couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"What was that?" Callom asked, lowering his voice.

"Yes," came the quiet reply.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir," the boy said, his green eyes meeting Callom's black ones.

Callom grinned and stepped around the table to lean closer to the man. He had to crane his neck to hold the taller man's gaze, but that did nothing to deter him.

"Yes, sir, what?"

"Yes, sir. Please fuck me," Chandler said softly, more pre leaking through his leather pants. He was practically shaking with desire. "Ioan used to fuck me, and I haven't cum in days, and I'm so horny. Please fuck me."

"Anything for a customer," Callom said with a calming smile. "Follow me."

Without waiting for confirmation, Callom turned and walked towards the door leading to the staff areas. One of the perks of running the bar was that he got his own "office," which he used more for entertaining customers than he did for balancing the books. He walked through the dining hall, down the hallway, and through his office door without once acknowledging that Chandler was behind him. Only when he had closed the office door behind them and thrown everything off the small cot in the corner of the room did he address the man.

"Strip," he said.

Chandler almost fell over himself in his hurry to comply. He threw off his tunic with haste and kicked aside his shoes. Callom took the time to admire his tanned chest, which had much more definition than his spindly arms would suggest. Moments later, the man had managed to pull off his pants and was standing naked in front of the door. His large, curved was cock standing at full attention.

"Good boy," Callom said, flicking the man's leaking cock. Slowly, he walked around the other man, inspecting his body. Not a blemish or a birthmark anywhere to be seen. He was perfect... almost too perfect, but Callom had other things to consider. Like that pert, tight ass.

Making his way back around Chandler's front, Callom grabbed the man's cock and started stroking it ever so slowly. He heard a soft moan escape the taller man.

"Like that, do you?" he asked, speeding up slightly.

"Yes, sir," came the strained reply.

"Do you want me to continue?"

"Please, sir. Please don't stop," Chandler begged, his knees already starting to shake. He really was very horny, wasn't it?

"Just this speed?"

"Faster, please, sir."

Callom slowed his strokes and pulled Chandler toward the bed by his cock.

"On your back," Callom said, letting go. His hand was absolutely covered in precum, but then so was his loincloth.

"Yes, sir," the other man said quickly, laying on the bed. He didn't really fit, but the way he lay there with his legs up and ass exposed was almost too much for Callom to bear. He looked so innocent and yet so wanton. It was so very hot.

"Have you cleaned? Lubed?"

"I'm clean, sir," Chandler said. "But I could use some more lube."

Callom reached into one of the drawers of his desk. He pulled out a small pot of lube, which he tossed to Chandler, who caught it with a grace that seemed shocking given his lanky awkwardness. As Chandler prepared himself, Callom undid his loincloth and dropped it on the floor. He was by no means the largest of the crew either, but his dark, chocolate cock was still an inch longer than Chandler's already sizable one.

"It's so big, sir," Chandler said, unable to take his eyes off of it.

Bigger than Ioan's, Callom thought with just a touch of pride.

"Yes, and you're going to lube it up with your mouth."

For all his hesitation in the bar, Chandler knew what he was doing. He wasted no time dropping to his knees and putting Callom in his mouth. And he was talented. Chandler's tongue teased the head before it went down, bobbing on Callom's length and using his lips to make sure that every stroke imparted maximum pleasure. And the things he was doing with his hands, cupping Callom's balls and stroking gently on his taint. Callom's toes began to curl.

"You're good at this, boy. Maybe I should have you give some of the new boys on the crew a demonstration," Callom said, breathily.

Chandler moaned around his cock, his face reddening. Though whether with arousal, embarrassment, or just a lack of air Callom didn't know or care. He just needed him to keep sucking Callom's cock like that. And then Chandler went all the way down, and Callom could feel the back of his throat. He couldn't hold it in; a loud groan of pleasure escaped him.

"Fuck...."

Chandler pulled off of his cock and looked up at him with those big, green eyes.

"Was that good, sir?"

Just that face after having his cock deepthroated was almost enough to make Callom shoot on the spot. Better get on with the main event. He had promised the customer a good pounding after all. And if that ass was anything like his mouth, Callom was definitely going to enjoy keeping that promise.

"Yes. Now on your back."

Chandler scrambled back onto the bed, his eyes wide and with the same sheepish grin.

"Ready?"

"Yes, sir. Please," he whined.

With that invitation, Callom lined himself up and entered Chandler. Usually, Callom had to go in really slow, often having to start over a few times before a guy could take his cock, but Chandler's ass seemed to suck him in. He put in the head, and before he knew it, he was balls deep. It felt so warm, so most. Something else too, it was crazy, but it was almost like the boy's ass was ridged.

"Please, sir. Fuck me," Chandler begged. He started pushing himself against Callom, moaning in time with each thrust.

Needing no further encouragement, Callom started thrusting into the man below him. He usually considered himself a passionate and thoughtful lover, but he couldn't control himself with this boy. He fucked hard and wild, thrusting into Chandler's tight hole. And Chandler seemed to love it. He kept moaning with every thrust. The harder it was, the louder he moaned as he stroked his own cock. A pool of pre was already forming on his stomach, and Chandler just wiped it up to use as lube and kept going. It was so hot and wrong, and Callom couldn't get enough. He lost track of time as he became so engrossed in fucking Chandler's tight hole.

"Please, sir. I'm going to cum," Chandler moaned. He was stroking himself fast, his legs starting to shake as he approached his orgasm.

"Not yet, boy," Callom growled. "You cum when I say you do."

Chandler groaned loudly but nodded. He kept stroking, and he flushed further. The red that covered his face expanded down onto his chest in big splotches. The fact that it was uneven was the only not perfectly uniform thing about him; the little imperfection made him even hotter to Callom.

"Do you want my load, boy?" Callom asked, readying to blow himself.

"Yes, please, sir."

"Where?"

"In my hole, sir. Please, please fill me with cum," Chandler begged.

"Since you asked so nicely," Callom said. "You can cum now."

"Oh, thank you, sir," Chandler said. He started pumping himself even faster. As he got closer, he kept pushing himself up and managing to drive Callom's cock even deeper inside of him.

Chandler released a loud moan as he released his load. Jet after jet of hot cum spewed from his cock, covering his body and the bed. And with each spurt, his hole squeezed itself even tighter around Callom's dick. Between that, and the moans and the faces of pure pleasure the man under him was making, Callom couldn't handle it.

He groaned himself as he thrust into Chandler, painting the boy's insides with his own load. When he came off the high of his orgasm, he saw that Chandler was still leaking cum from his pole. He looked so peaceful as Callom pulled out, searching for something dry to wipe himself off with. It was almost as if the man was going to fall asleep right there in a stranger's office!

"Enjoy yourself," Callom asked as he started to retie his loincloth. He wasn't completely clean, but honestly, a little cum was just part of a day in the Cock and Bull.

"Yes, sir," the lanky man said sleepily, still lying on the bed.

"Callom. Unless you want to keep calling my sir out of playspace."

"Chir," the man replied, sitting up slowly.

"Oh, so that's your real name," Callom said with a laugh. "I knew something was off about 'Chandler.'"

Chir--Chandler flushed, then smiled and nodded. He looked embarrassed though it wasn't clear whether it was of the original lie or being found out now.

"That's right," Chir replied. "And I think I like calling you 'sir' if you don't mind."

Callom smiled back. He had a strict no-dating clients rule. Hell, he had a no-dating rule, but there was just something about Chir that made him different. He was laying in a stranger's bed in the back of an inn covered in his own load and leaking someone else's. And yet, he sat there with that silly grin, totally at ease as if he totally trusted Callom even though they'd just met. No, dating, but this kid wasn't precisely a client, and being friends with benefits wasn't exactly dating.

"I'll let you pick depending on the situation," Callom said. "Now, I've got to go back to work, which means you've got to get dressed."

Callom walked over to where the other man had flung his clothes.

"Here," he said, tossing Chir his pre-cum stained leather pants. Chir caught them deftly, but not a couple coins--at least one of which was gold--fell out.

"Oh. Sorry about that," Callom said.

"You can keep it," Chir said quickly. "I appreciate you making my birthday special."

"It's your birthday?" Callom asked. "Shouldn't I be giving you a gift?"

"You did, sir," Chir said happily. "That was the best orgasm I've ever had. Also... my family... has money. I won't miss it."

At least that explained why the most genuinely confident Chir sounded all night was when he was just giving over what for Callom was a month's pay.

Chir walked over to the door and picked up his tunic. He looked at it and then at his cum-soaked chest.

"I think I want to let everyone see it," Chir said with a blush. "I'll clean off before I go up... before I go home."

Another bulge was already starting to form in Chir's pants, and Callom somehow doubted that that would be the last load of the night for the birthday boy.

"Many men of walked out of here soaked in more than that. " Though not necessarily from one man, damn, that boy can shoot. "You'll be fine."

Chir grinned. "Thanks again!"

"Just come back to the Cock and Bull, and that'll be thanks enough," Callom said.

"I will!" Chir said happily before he walked out the door.

"Well, that was interesting," Callom said casually, walking over to pick up the coins that had fallen on the floor. The gold coin, a couple silver pieces of various denominations, and a few coppers. It was definitely enough money to feed him for a few months if he was ever out of work, not that he was complaining. If some rich boy wanted to throw his money around, who was Callom to stop him?

Shoving the money in his purse, Callom was almost ready to leave when he noticed something else had rolled under the desk. He had to lay down on his belly to reach it, but when he did, he could see that it was a seal. Flipping it over to get a good look, his heart froze.

That seal looked too familiar. Suddenly, all of the mysteries around Chir started to make sense. Nobody Chir's age in the neighborhood of the Cock and Bull was that... nervous. It would get you mugged. He'd thought it made sense when he found out the kid had money, but that didn't explain the fake name or the perfect skin or the unwieldy height. But this explained it, right down to the birthday. Callom opened his purse and pulled out the silver coins looking for one in particular.

There. These coins were new; they'd been minted this year in honor of the dragon prince's coming of age. That's what the big to-do at the castle was about. He hadn't just fucked some rich kid who got his rocks off by riding barkeeps. Well, he had, but Chir was more than just some rich kid.

Callom put the seal beside the silver coin and groaned. He was right; he had recognized that seal because everyone recognized that seal. Chir was Crown Prince Chirganon, heir to the fucking kingdom. Callom had just fucked royalty.

Note:

Thanks so much for reading!

Liked the story? Let me know. Have constructive feedback or ideas for these two should get up to in the next installment? Tell me that too!

Author: thewatchercorp@gmail.com

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