Elf Boy's Friends - I
by George Gauthier
Chapter 13
Confraternities
Halfway through his orientation, on one of his free days, Drew went for some fun in Twinkle Town. Named for its clientele, Twinkle Town was a district or rather a cluster of drinking and dancing establishments favored by those who fancied pretty boys and by pretty boys who favored being fancied.
Meanwhile and unbeknownst to Drew, Jemsen and Karel had returned from a successful business trip upriver and rewarded themselves with a night on the town. They too headed over to Twinkle Town dressed, if that is the word for it, in kilts made of nearly sheer white linen, wrapped so low on their hips that the exiguous garments threatened to lose their tenuous grip on the twins' pert rumps and slip right to the floor.
Drew wore one of his trademark sleeveless tunics of white silk split to the waist that displayed and flattered the trim and taut body he had so recently grown into and was inordinately proud of. His revealing outfit, taken together with his slight build and impossibly pretty features, practically shouted 'boy-toy', which was fine by Drew. If that made him looked less than manly, so be it. Drew liked his look just fine, thank you, and was not the least bit interested in "manning up". And with centuries of unchanging youth ahead of him, he didn't see why he should have to.
Drew got there first. Timing his entrance to a lull in the dance music, Drew waltzed languidly across the nearly empty dance floor, turning slowly to let everyone get a good look at him and to admire him. With all eyeballs on him, Drew knew he was being naughty, nothing less than a brazen show off and cock-tease. But he couldn't help himself. Exhibitionism was in his nature, a way for him, as he saw it anyway, to share the physical beauty that nature had graced him with.
As the music returned, eager suitors sought Drew out on the dance floor. Quite the social butterfly, the auburn-haired lad changed partners with every dance, and sometimes let a guy cut in during one, to the intense disappointment of those whose hopes he dashed.
"You little heartbreaker!" a familiar voice growled in his ear. Drew turned to find the twins.
"Jemsen! And Karel too!" he exclaimed as they drew him into a hug.
A collective groan all around marked the definitive disappointment of the also-rans. Some patrons recognized the twins, who were regulars in Twinkle Town. Others noticed the triple tattoos that marked them as elf-friends, dwarf-friends, and giant-friends, all three, the only living persons to be so honored. The rest of the crowd saw that there was simply no contesting the twins in the looks department. Except for a couple of elf-boys and one really cute human lad, no one else was even in the same league as the blond newcomers.
Of fully human stock, Jemsen and Karel were identical twins, young palomino colts whose well-defined wiry musculature evidenced the high level of fitness the boys maintained from all that running and swimming they did. They were blessed with cute fine-boned faces, their heads crowned with cornsilk blond hair. As with Drew their vitality and youth had been extended by the druids so the scrumptious blond beauties practically glowed with good health. The total effect was incredibly sexy.
"I thought you guys were out of town." Drew exclaimed.
"We got back this afternoon, had a bite to eat, then headed over here, and just in time from the look of things. This horny crowd looked like they were ready to haul you off to the back room for a gang-bang."
"Not to worry. If anything untoward threatened, the bouncer would have stopped it. That's him, the huge fellow at the door. As I came in I tipped him a silver to keep an eye on me. That way I wouldn't have to invoke my gift and maybe hurt a guy whose only fault was too much to drink and too much enthusiasm."
"Boy-toy good looks like yours, Drew, can generate entirely too much enthusiasm with the wrong sort."
"Tell me about it!"
"So why don't we two show folks that you are already taken. Care to dance?"
"Sure. You'll have the next dance, Karel," Drew assured the other twin.
With that the happy couple picked up the beat and whirled across the dance floor in an energetic and athletic display of supple bodies and exciting dance steps just oozing with eroticism, proving the old saying that dancing is really a vertical display of a horizontal intention.
Quite some time later, the trio adjourned to the twins' comfortable rooms with the oversized bed the twins shared. The sheets were made of high thread count linen dyed a light green that complimented the twins' blond looks and sun bronzed skins.
Now on most of their nights together, two of the trio of friends paired off, though the sexy youths sometimes frolicked in a threesome. Jemsen was the most sexually aggressive of the three; next was his twin Karel, with Drew the submissive boy-toy often getting plugged at both ends at once. Drew loved surrendering his body to whatever use the twins would make of it as they took control of his limbs and contorted his limber body into all manner of naughty positions.
The twins like to fuck him either doggy style or more typically on his back, his own hands holding his knees to spread his legs apart as the boys pumped away at his hungry hole. Drew always shuddered deliciously as the impaling cock repeatedly stroked his joy spot, as it slipped in and out, sending his small body into paroxysms of erotic ecstasy. His eyes rolled up and head whipped around as he moaned and groaned, sweat pouring off him, utterly lost in the surge of sensation.
Jemsen like to punctuate his strokes with occasional slaps to the bottom boy's buttocks, emphasizing his dominance over the smaller male beneath him. Till, in the fullness of time, one of them would reach climax, usually setting the other one off as well. If Jemsen came first, the signal for Drew to orgasm was the wet warmth he felt as Jemsen spurt his seed into his innards. For Jemsen, the trigger was the sight of Drew's small but shapely cock spurting ropes of white gism onto his chest and even his face, he ejaculated that strongly. But then he was a teenager.
"You know Drew," Jemsen enthused, "I don't know which is more exciting: taking you while your are lying on your back where I can watch your pretty face and kiss those pouty lips of yours, or mounting you from behind, when you are down on all fours, rather like a stallion mounting a filly. Do you have any idea how shapely you are back there? You are just perfect with firm boy buns, round where they should be yet flat on the flanks. And they dimple ever so fetchingly when you walk in front of me. I am so glad you are as partial to total public nudity as we are, not to mention our old friends the elves who habitually go around 'skin-clad' as they call it."
Drew also like mutual oral sex, with him and one of the twins lying on their sides, head to toe, affording easy access. The twins were past masters of the proper technique and had taught the relatively inexperienced youth all their ways for pleasuring cock. Drew was an apt pupil, a natural you might say. In short order his new-found expertise in the amatory arts matched his unbounded teenage enthusiasm.
Drew loved waking up flanked by the slender bodies of the twins. All three were utterly smooth and glabrous, with skins like silk unblemished by any body hair. For the twins, that was due to the permanent depilatories the elves had applied to their skin when they were inducted as elf-friends. In Drew's case it was due to the healing magic of the druids which rendered his hair follicles permanently quiescent. That applied to their cheeks as well. None of the trio had been old enough to grown even peach fuzz much less a man's beard and now they never would.
The druidic healing magic that boosted the vitality of all three also transformed their sebaceous glands into ordinary sweat glands which produced only salty water, to cool their bodies. Put simply, these boys smelled and tasted ever so sweet. Their skin never reeked of that off scent produced by sebaceous oils turning rancid. What you got from all three was just the smell of clean healthy boy and the taste of salt.
Naturally curious, the twins asked Drew about his training. The young journalist was eager to share. The army trainers had told Drew that he was too small to stand in the battle line shoulder to shoulder with other fighters. No need then to learn to wield the sword, the axe, or the spear. Better he should practice the unarmed combat skills the twins had taught him. In a fight, he should try to break free from his opponent and take off rather than mix it up. They recommended the same thing with wielding the kukri that the twins favored as a close in weapon. Cut your way into the clear then run for it.
Actually Drew had some ideas of his own on wielding the kukri. The twins had already showed him the basics. If he had to make a stand up fight of it, his best tactic was to use his Fetching in conjunction with his blade. For instance, if some big guy came at him wielding a full sized sword. Drew should seize the moment when his enemy raised his weapon to strike. Right arm thrust out and braced, he should yank his enemy onto the blade impaling him, then cutting downward to spill his guts onto the ground. If a comrade was in trouble, he could yank their common foe backwards onto his outstretched blade. Or he could simply disarm a foe, Fetching his weapon right out of his hand.
Drew's small size and acrobatic skills gave him an advantage in climbing or vaulting obstacles. Any town or city offered a multitude of escape routes for anyone nimble enough to take to the rooftops, hop fences, or clamber over walls. Same thing in a forest. The trainers told Drew to take up the new sport increasingly popular around the country where agile guys learned to swarm up the facades of buildings via drainpipes, projections in decorative brickwork, window sills, awnings, clothes lines, etc.
"Our group shared the techniques each of us as individuals had developed to use our magical gifts. In my case, I demonstrated my shadow boxing technique to another Fetcher who also flings steel spheres around. He agreed that my technique helped his concentration and would make him more effective."
"A firecaster shared a powder he developed working with alchemists. When it burns it produces smoke that irritates the eyes and lungs but does no permanent harm. It gives firecasters a way to be effective without killing. No clinging balls of fire and no need to turning living beings into crispy critters either. With a simple fuse, anyone can use the powder tactically. The pellets can be delivered by arrow or cross bow quarrel or dropped from a running horse to discourage pursuit."
"Now if only there were a way for all the magically gifted throughout the Commonwealth to share techniques, not just our small group. It would benefit our whole society. Unfortunately the Army said that it is not their business to organize the gifted who were not in its ranks."
"So, why don't you and some of the others set up your own organization. Call it the Confraternity of the Gifted or maybe separate confraternities for the major magical gifts of Fetching and Firecasting, and any others you can think of, like Magnetism and Thunderbolts."
"That sounds good, Jemsen, but how would it work?"
"Well, your are the journalist here, Drew", Jemsen replied. "Publish a newsletter available by subscription and distributed via the postal service. Announce your new venture in the news sheets to drum up subscribers and contributors and advertisers. The venture will also give you invaluable experience as an editor."
"You know, I just might do that!"
And he did, publishing bi-monthly for starters. Drew persuaded Angus McFarden to lead the Confraternity of Fetchers and Fyrd Kalmen the Firecasters. As editor, he relied on their experience and expertise to evaluate the suggestions and contributions from the membership. As a contributor Drew wrote of his techniques with his steel spheres, drugged darts, and kukri.
Within a year the Transactions of the Confraternities of the Gifted had thirty thousand subscribers with that figure looking to double in the next year when the publication went to a monthly schedule. The gifted were being inspired to start new business which capitalized on their talents while prospective employers placed hiring notices to meet their needs. The Commonwealth could only benefit from the maximization of the talents of its citizens.
The publication was not a big money-maker, though something was left over after expenses. Drew did not draw a salary, viewing his work for the quarterly as his personal contribution to the betterment of the Commonwealth. His uncle's print shop ran off the copies at cost, which was his own contribution to the project.
Though the newsletter reached only a tiny fraction of the ten of millions of Commonwealth citizens, those it did reach were among the most gifted. Drew's publication had become a catalyst for the application of magical gifts to business and industry. All of which was just one more indication of the strength of civil society in the Commonwealth of the Long River, known with good reason, as the benign hegemon of the continent.
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