STICKY FINGERS
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Kenow and I walked the streets like any two visitors to the lovely bejeweled city of Swendon, wide-eyed and staring at all that was going on. There was a lot to see. On one side of us, a juggler was juggling balls of fire trapped in glass globes. It was magic that let him do that (albeit getting his hands warmed in the process), magic that kept the fire burning even though sealed away in glass, and kept the glass from melting from the blaze inside it. On the other side, merchants were selling everything a family would need to celebrate the Harvest Feastday coming up in two more days, everything from live cockatrice to roc's eggs to a caketree's bountiful harvest of ready-made multi-flavored desserts all laid out, the stems from which they formed still attached to help it stay fresh.
The crowd, too, was worth watching and the reason Kenow and I were here. Villagers from all over had come to enjoy the city and purchase their feast's provisions. That of course brought in farmers and merchants to sell their wares to the many people, and that brought in people to entertain like the juggler and earn some money. Among the humans which made up the majority was a fair percentage of the other races of the land, such as those over there, a group of elves were standing and talking with all apparently amiability to a pair of trolls, their mortal enemies at any other time or place. One of the other entertainers we'd seen had a trio of performing dragons (smaller ones, of course) running in a circle with riders performing acrobatics.
And with the celebration of the Winter Gifting only a month away, everything was selling and selling briskly. So a lot of money was about on the streets of the city, where the very buildings were built out of gigantic jewels carved and hollowed out with rooms and halls and windows and doors (courtesy of a powerful mage nearly a hundred years ago), and money attracts people of my profession, and of Kenow's.
The pickpocket. The petty thief. The burglar.
Kenow and I were a team, and we did the old bump-and-snatch. Kenow, a large, muscular man, handsome in a simple, clean sort of way, would bump into the target, enough to dishevel and possibly knock the man down. He would pick the man up, brushing at his clothing with profuse apologies that were so sincere the man would have to forgive him. In the midst of those huge hands hitting his body all over, the man would never notice that I had slipped in and snatch away his purse, or a ring or whatever else of value he had. After that, unless we made it through all that without being detected, we had to make ourselves scarce for a while. So we wanted to make our snatches count.
We were searching for a worthy victim now. "How about him?" Kenow asked. He was pointing a single thick finger at a richly appointed man getting out of a large carriage drawn by a pair of matched griffins.
I shook my head. "Look at what he's got with him." The man's wives were climbing out of the carriage after him. "Any man who has to buy that many dresses doesn't have anything left."
"He has to be rich to afford that many women." Kenow argued.
"All of whom are watching him jealously, to make sure the other wives don't freeze them out." I pointed out. "We'd never get away without a fight."
"He's got the bag of gold hanging right from his belt." Kenow pointed to a troll, this one a guard.
"And it can keep on hanging there." I said. "Unless you think you can take him." Kenow was a big man, but not that big.
But Kenow actually judged the troll's prowess before he shook his head. "Okay, you pick one."
"How about him?" I pointed to a smaller man. "His purse is inside his robe, but I can lift it if you can keep him busy."
"Okay, let's hit him." Kenow led the way toward the thin, elderly looking man. Our target wore a simple homespun robe without decoration, and carried a long stick, too short to be a walking stick, but too long to be a toothpick, perhaps eight to ten inches, and finely carved. I didn't want the man's stick, I wanted that bulge I saw inside the robe on his right side, resting atop the waist tie and held in place that way, it appeared to be resting with no ties. The man had a substantial pile and had dressed poorly to try to look like less than he was...but the way coins move in a pouch is unmistakable to the trained eye, and I knew he had a few hundred coins on him. If they were silver or gold, we'd be set for the entire Feastday holiday in the eyes of the Thieves' Guild.
I was a few steps behind Kenow, apparently a lone pedestrian. Kenow did it up right, he seemed to be gawking at the juggler and plowed into the target, knocking him onto the ground on all fours. Kenow hauled him to his feet, spieling his apology, "Oh, sir, I am so sorry, I didn't see you? Are you hurt, sir? Let me get some of this street dust off of you, at least." And Kenow's hands began flailing at the man's robe.
I slid in from behind and my hand caught the purse and lifted it away and I stepped rapidly into a group of men nearby. Kenow finished his "dusting" and joined me and we started walking away, two friends once again, me with a package and him my guardian.
And then the thrice-cursed bag began to speak up. "Who are you? You aren't my master! Master, master! These men have stolen me from you!"
A magical coin pouch. Of course, we should have known. A man with that much money and dares to carry it on his person usually has only one profession.
And the man suddenly appeared right in front of us, out of thin air! We'd pinched the purse of a magician!
"Master, master, they took me from you, they reached in your robe and took me!" the purse yammered.
"We did not, the pouch fell out and I picked it up and was wondering where you were..." I started arguing. Kenow kept silent, he knew I was better at talking our way out of trouble.
"No, I didn't fall out of your robe, Master, it was this one who took me, he's a thief with sticky fingers, sticky fingers, sticky fingers!" And the purse kept up the chant of those two final words, one of several slang terms for a pickpocket.
I shook my head and said to the wizard with an artfully artless smile of resignation. "A man cannot argue with a magical item. I have told you what happened, and you must choose which of us you will believe."
"Sticky fingers, sticky fingers, sticky fingers...." the purse was indefatigable, a person would have run out of air by this time.
"I know this purse well, he belonged to my own master until he passed to the next realm and bequeathed it to me. You two do have sticky fingers, young man, and I think it's time you both realized that before you find your fingers cut off by the Duke of Swendon."
He lifted his stick and I realized that of course it was his magic wand (what else?) and cursed myself silently for an idiot. Nothing left to do but hope this wizard wasn't too malevolent and the curse he placed on us wasn't too expensive to remove.
The spell he cast on us was short, but the effect was immediate. My right hand shot upwards and displayed itself. Kenow's left hand did the same, and then the two hands reached for each other and interlocked and held! We were left, two men holding hands like a pair of lovers.
And the wizard smiled, picked up the purse where it had fallen (my right hand had been holding that damnable talking purse!) and returned it to its resting place. "And a happy feast to both of you gentlemen." he said and took off.
I tried to lift my hand away from Kenow's and couldn't. He was struggling to free his own hand, but it was useless. We were interlocked and that was that.
Nothing to do but make our way back to the Thieves' Guild hall and report our condition. But we didn't have to go there until sundown and that gave us that long to seek out help.
Our struggles had done this much, now our hands weren't with interlocked fingers, now my hand was around his wrist and his fingers were around my forearm just above the wrist. We sat down at an outdoor cafeteria over a couple of cups of ale, and kept experimenting. We could slide our hands over each other's bare skin all we wanted to. We couldn't slide it back down again, but now I had my hand well up Kenow's shirt and he had his hand well up inside mine.
"It's like our hands are bound somewhere." I told Kenow. "If we could get someplace and see where they are going, we might be able to reach a point where they will slide off. That would have to abate this spell. It was too simple a charm to be anything too complicated."
"So what do you want to do?" Kenow asked me, his free hand reaching in and massaging an itch on one broad nipple. His shirt was disarranged enough from my arm up the sleeve to let me see the brown nub clearly as his fingers darted at it over and over again.
"We should rent us a room and in there, remove our shirts and whatever else we must, and slide our hands until they reach their destination and the charm abates."
"And if the charm does not abate?"
"Then we will go to the Guildmaster and beg his help in finding a mage to remove the curse from us." I said. "At least we can tell him we tried all we could to not force the expense upon the Guild before we came to him."
Kenow couldn't argue with that logic, for the Guildmaster, like any good Thieves' Guildmaster, kept both of his eyes on the income of the Guild and nowhere else.
The cafeteria where we were had rooms to let by the day or the hour, and the owner smirked at us, two men fondling each other's bodies as we asked for the room. Kenow scowled fiercely and the owner blanched, but was still smirking as we walked off with our key.
"Let it be." I soothed my partner when we got into the room, a simple bed and enough room left over to stand upon, and no more, a real whore's-crib of a room. "He doesn't know about the charm laid upon us, and Goddess willing, he never will. We don't want a cafe owner pointing to us and saying that there go a pair of thieves, do we?"
"We'll have to cut our shirts open." Kenow responded, and his free hand took out his dagger. He wielded the dagger on my shirt with a surgical efficiency that told me he could gut a hapless victim in an alley easily if he chose. Why he wasn't doing that instead of performing as the "bumper" for a "sticky fingers" like me?
"You need to do mine." Kenow said and handed me the dagger. I didn't slice the shirt as cleanly as he had mine, I'd never learned the art of the blade, after all. But I managed and we were able to remove our shirts and were bare to the waist, both of us, sitting on the bed.
Our hands were free to move and did so. My hand went over Kenow's shoulder but balked at traveling down his back. His hand and mine traveled over each other's pectoral. Kenow stopped and palped my breast, an impish grin upon his face, that I was happy enough to return. This was an embarrassing situation for both of us, after all. And our hands were still traveling with no sign of letting go.
"Mayhaps we should remove the rest of our clothes." Kenow said when my hand reached his slim, taut stomach. His own hand was still on my breast, he had stopped there while my own hand ventured further. "If we have to cut our pants as well as our shirts, we will be naked and trapped in here."
"I fear you may be right." I agreed. "I also fear that this may be an unending journey, one that roams all over and returns to the place where it started, and neither of us will ever be free."
"Courage, my friend." Kenow urged me as he stood up and his hands went to his pants' waist tie. The cord was undone and he slid them down his body, and his wrap underneath went with them, baring his entire body to me. I'd never seen it all together like this before. His face was most familiar, with its square, solid simplicity under a thick thatch of black hair cut under a bowl, his jowl kept scraped clear of beard or mustache. His body held hair as well, not in profusion but enough to fuzz his chest between his nipples and make a line from his navel to his pubic bush. His chest was a bulging of beauty, his stomach as I have said was a flat plateau of male flesh dimpled only in its exact center by his navel. His legs were sturdy and well formed, and in the middle of all this was his organ, a large, grayish-brown piece of man-fruit begging to be plucked.
And my hand was upon his body, a mere hands-width away from that harvest bounty of male flesh.
My hand would not move in any direction but one, and that was toward his maleness. His own hand remained at my breast, and I stopped when I was touching the top of his pubic brushpile, and said, my voice hoarse with my tension, "Perhaps I should remove my own clothes before I do any more."
"I think you should." Kenow agreed. And his hand moved until it was at my own stomach, as if waiting for me to pull off my trousers.
I removed my pants as best I could, for Kenow's hand was plastered to my stomach and when I was done, Kenow's hand moved itself. I could see him attempt to move it from side to side, but like my own, it would only move itself downwards. I saw his hand only a scant distance from my own penis, and I groaned as softly as I could, to hide the sound from Kenow, but I couldn't hide my rising erection.
Kenow only smiled as he saw my prick pointing at him like a questioning hound, and he gestured towards his own. "I have noticed well the travel our hands are taking without our volition." he said. "And since our room is only ours for another three quarters of an hour, we should make the best of this time, do you not think?"
"I must admit you are right, about our hands." I said. "It seems a miserable joke upon us by that magician, even if we did burgle that noisome purse from him. But what other choice do we have but to see if this is what he intended for our punishment?"
Kenow's hand slid down and upon my dong. "And the voyage ends." he said to me. "I can move it no further out, though it seems like I can move it somewhat, at least." And he moved his hand upon me, and his motions were fluid and graceful and unencumbered by magic or by lack of skill.
I moaned and my own hand happily went down onto his own organ, which had inflated itself in anticipation of my arrival.
As he grasped me, I groaned and fell back onto the bed, and he quickly joined me, we squirmed around as our hands continued to pleasure each other. And how could we not pleasure each other, with our every move of our hands locked onto each other's dong?
Kenow's prick was so rich and thick and firm! His hand upon my own organ was so swift, so soft, so adept and so tender! I moaned as he pumped at me and he groaned as I pounded on him and our faces looked into each other's and we reached and we kissed and our free hands reached to hold each other as best we could.
There was a liberating aspect to our hands being magically affixed to each other's dong, we didn't slip about or even have to hold on tightly unless we chose, all we had to do was move our hand and any motion at all translated into the other's pleasure.
Kenow moaned and released me and began to turn around in bed, he had to pivot his hand around my cock to do so, but the magic permitted this so long as his hand did not leave my cock entirely. I was puzzled until he settled back again, this time with his head at my crotch and his own knees planted on either side of my head.
I understood and scooted downwards so we could fit on the bed better, and then he pushed my cockskin down far as he could and the free part of it at the top he took into his mouth.
And as he did this, his hand released from my cock entirely! I was surprised and said, "Quick, Kenow, can you get away from me now?"
But Kenow's mouth was now as firmly locked upon me as his hand had been. He struggled, then grunted, shrugged.
"I see you are still locked, though now with your mouth instead." I said. "But if lovemaking freed you this much, perhaps continuing it will free you the more."
Kenow grunted around my cock and then he began to suck upon me. His mouth was firm and warm and moist upon my flesh, his motions sent my body into an agony of delight that made me writhe upon him. I pumped at him faster than before and as he loved upon me with his mouth as I jerked him, I looked at him and asked myself, did I owe him more than this?
He had freed himself at least in one way, by changing the purpose of the magic. Maybe we could change the purpose even more.
I reached with my other hand for Kenow's dong and I found that when I placed my left hand upon his prick and gripped it, my right hand released entirely. I was now trapped with my left hand on Kenow's cock, but still, there was a certain degree of freedom in this. I could choose how I was trapped with him.
Kenow continued to suck on me and the joy washed over me anew at my discovery. I looked again at his prick, so big and thick and masculine and the smell of it was like the feastday meats that would be enjoyed in a few days.
So I surrendered myself and sank onto Kenow's cock and I sucked at him the way he sucked at me. My mouth was fastened upon him but I no longer cared, for he was hard and thick and luscious and tasty and I could feast upon this man-meal as long as I wanted!
My own ecstasy swarmed upon me and I couldn't hold off, I couldn't warn Kenow with more than a moan and I moaned and I thrashed and Kenow clutched me tightly and I was overwhelmed with my orgasm, I groaned and ejaculated into his mouth heavily, my sexual flood pouring into him, but he drank me down as I filled his mouth, and even when I was done, he kept sucking at me to wring from me the very last drop of my sexual fluids.
I was exhausted and short of breath and I put my right hand back on his cock and worked it with my hand and to my relief, my hand replaced my mouth on his cock as the captive, I left it hostage and lifted up on the bed. "I need to rest before I try to repay you in kind." I told Kenow.
"No need for that." Kenow said. "I'd like to try something else if I may, something that may free us further."
"Certainly, if you think it will help."
"I know it will help me." panted Kenow and he moved on me again. His hand replaced his mouth and he moved around so that he was kneeling between my legs. My hand was riding along and when he pressed his manhood below my testicles, I realized what he wanted. "Is this what you intend, to penetrate me below?" I asked, just to be sure.
"We must try everything, to see what will set us free." Kenow panted, but I don't think anything would have stopped him and I didn't resist. His cock touched my anus and my hand fell away, free again, and now we were only bound by this slightest of contact. I feared that for a moment he might try to tear himself free, but Kenow was more in thrall to his passion than to any magic, and he pushed into me.
I thought there would be more pain than there was, perhaps the magic was making my bowels more receptive, the friction that such an invader would normally ignite was absent. I only felt filled and as he reached his maximum penetration and began to move in me, I felt only pleasure.
I'd just climaxed, so the joy his fucking of my ass gave me was a gentler thing than it would have been at some other time. I held him to me and his large, strong body made me feel secure and safe. I no longer felt trapped by this odd magic that held us together, I wanted this joining to last me forever and ever!
Kenow fucked me for nearly ten minutes until his body tensed, stiffened, and he raised up his head and shoulders, shoved his prong deep into me, arcing his back and lifted back his head and howled out his rapture. I felt the rush of hot jizz rushing into me and I shivered in a strangely ephemeral but very satisfying sort of phantom orgasm of my own, as if Kenow's joy was being transmitted into me.
Our bodies were joined, we held each other and he put his hand into mine and we gripped and when he did that, the magic shifted all at once, Kenow's spent prong dropped out of me and we were bound at our hands alone once more.
"It seems we can adjust our bond to our liking, but cannot release it." Kenow said. "I suppose we must go to the Guildmaster and plead our plight to him after all."
The Guildmaster had to be shown in detail the situation and we ended with our hands again at each other's stomachs, our bodies bare to the waist, before he was satisfied. His strongest men could not wrench us apart and in that position, he didn't think we were pretending.
I had thought he would advance us money to let us hire a magician, but his response was stronger than that, he banished us from the Guild, returning our journeyman's fee we'd paid upon joining, but nothing more than that. We were forced to find work that we could do sitting side by side, for the magic would let us free our hands if we remained touching in some other way. We now work for a weaver, together working a loom that creates rugs, and Kenow's strength makes the task easy and allows me to concentrate upon the design to be woven in. The master we work for is well-pleased with the rugs we create and they sell well enough that we will soon be journeymen once again and can open a shop of our own.
And nights, we use our "sticky fingers" to pleasure each other in many amazing ways. I can give Kenow the kind of massage that nobody else can to ease his work-worn muscles, and he can stimulate me in ways that others can only dream of.
One day we will again meet up with that magician that cast the spell upon us. And when we do, I can't speak for Kenow, but I plan to give him my most heartfelt thanks and invite him to our next Feastday meal as an honored guest.
THE END
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WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM