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give it to me slowly

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That cute little Quentin Coldwater returned needing more help with the Wellspring of all magic, shy and fiddling with the strap of his leather bag that he seemed to carry everywhere. Ember listened to his plea, and looked to Umber, who was often such a killjoy, but who this time met Ember’s eyes and actually understood what he was trying to convey, and said, “Yes, brother, let’s.”

Ember was aware of how unlikely this was, but he was never one to let that get in the way of a good fantasy.

Quentin Coldwater began to look nervous, his pretty pink lips wetted with his agile tongue. Ember leered at him, and reached out one hand, so much larger than this mortal that he could crush Quentin’s skull with it but instead Ember rested it on Quentin’s shoulder, and said, “We will aid you once again, Quentin Coldwater, with our largesse.”

Ember loved this joke.

Quentin swallowed, and his brown eyes got very big. “Both of you?” he said, his voice a strange mix of nerves and anticipation.

“Indeed, little mortal,” Umber said, always so stuffy and pretentious. “We shall both bless you with our bounty.”

Umber’s cock was already hardening, and Ember pressed his hard, hot length against Quentin’s belly. The little mortal was so short and slight. A delightful package of anxiety and need. Quentin started to shrug out of his royal garments - but with a quick gesture, Ember banished them, leaving Quentin bare before them. This startled the little magician, and his hands flew to his groin.

No matter, Ember could see how hard he already was. He chuckled, and pulled Quentin’s hands away from his stiffening cock. He gathered both of Quentin’s wrists in one of his hands, and stretched them above Quentin’s head. Quentin squirmed, rather like a fish on a hook, and a fetching blush spilled down his neck and over his narrow shoulders and thin chest. Ember found this endearing. He chuckled, and reeled Quentin in.

The boy squeaked, and Umber stepped in behind him, taking part of his weight as Ember pulled him up into a rough embrace. His large fingers fumbled at Quentin’s entrance, and found him wet, pliant, as he’d been before. With an approving hum, Ember entered the boy in a single, rough thrust. Quentin made the most delightful squeaking sound as Ember drove into him, his muscles clenching around the hot, thick length of Ember’s massive cock.

Umber pressed in close, and felt at Quentin’s entrance with a couple of fingers, brushing the taut skin where Ember pierced the boy. Quentin whined, struggling to get leverage but held up by Ember’s length. “It won’t fit,” the boy panted, his wriggling a delightful sensation that had Ember groaning in appreciation.

“I fear he is right, brother,” Ember said, putting his hands on Quentin’s hips. “You must avail yourself of his other entrance.”

With his massive hands, he spun Quentin on his cock, the boy shuddering at the sensation, and pointed him toward Umber, who took a hold of the boy’s shoulders and lowered him enough that he could thrust into that soft, hot mouth. Quentin made a hilarious glurking noise as Umber thrust into his throat, and Ember gripped the boy’s hips tightly and started to thrust into him.

The brothers moved as one, Umber driving his massive cock into Quentin’s throat, Quentin taking it like a pixie, and Ember pushing into Quentin’s tight little hole in perfect counterpoint. The boy was so hot inside, and he clenched at Ember’s cock as if reluctant to let it go, only to welcome it back in like a lover. He was wet with sweat, the messy little mortal, the long muscles in his back shifting and straining as the brothers fucked him hard.

As Ember’s knot began to swell, he had to thrust a little harder, gripping those slim hips a little tighter. Quentin whined, and Ember watched his brother’s knot growing, and as Umber forced it into Quentin’s mouth Ember felt a rush of heightened arousal. His own knot battered at Quentin’s tight hole, until Ember slammed it in with a mighty thrust of his hips.

They were locked inside the boy, Umber’s knot now too large to get past Quentin’s teeth, Ember equally trapped in Quentin’s ass. The boy writhed on their cocks, obviously enjoying the sensation of being so filled. As Ember started to come, he pulled Quentin’s knee back, and felt for the boy’s prick.

It was hard, straining up against Quentin’s flat belly. “Quentin,” Ember said chidingly, “can’t you come just from being fucked?”

Quentin couldn’t answer, and indeed the only sounds he could make were of muffled, strained swallows as Umber started to pour come down his throat. With the knot locked behind his teeth, none could slip out, and Umber was so far down the boy’s throat that it was surely going almost straight into his belly.

His own come filling Quentin’s guts, Ember shifted his hold so that he could put his hand on the boy’s belly, and feel it filling up, first just a small roundness, then more, and more, the come still jetting into him from both ends. Quentin whined and strained against their hold, but he was caught on them, and under Ember’s hand his belly was getting fuller, and rounder. So full now that it pushed the boy’s erection down, so full that the skin felt a little thin beneath Ember’s palm.

Finally Umber’s knot shrank down, enough that he could pull it from Quentin’s mouth with a pop and a dribble of come. Quentin burped, and hung his head with exhaustion. A long strand of come-whitened drool hung down from his slack mouth almost to the floor.

Now that he was unsupported from the front, Ember pulled him back up to rest against his broad chest. Quentin’s belly stuck out in front of him so that he looked almost like a pregnant woman, he was so filled with divine providence. The strand of drool hanging from his mouth stained that big belly with streaks of white.

Ember stroked Quentin’s belly with a big hand, pressing slightly, and Quentin turned his head against Ember’s broad chest and made a slightly pathetic mewling sound. His hips moved in small, restless circles on Ember’s knot, his tiny erection still straining against his belly. “No, Quentin,” Ember said, pressing just a little harder to hold those hips still. “You mustn’t come. It will spoil the ritual.”

He wanted to laugh even as he spoke the lie, but managed to hold it in. Quentin just settled back against his chest obediently, only clenching now and then in a very pleasing way as he gave up on his own pleasure.

Ember could keep him like this forever, big and swollen with their come, aching for a release he would never get. But his mortal heart pattered in his thin chest, and his lungs struggled to draw breath against the weight and pressure of all the come, and his jaw didn’t want to close, having been forced open for so long.

So, as Ember’s knot began to deflate, he lifted Quentin off his cock, and set him onto his feet.

Quentin wobbled, and nearly went down. Ember shoved a plug into Quentin’s loose, wet entrance, making sure his divine largesse didn’t escape. “Would a gag help you keep my brother’s bounty?” he asked, running a finger over Quentin’s slack, come-wet lips.

“If you think it best,” Quentin said in a roughened voice, gazing up at him in wonder.

So he pushed another plug into Quentin’s mouth, working its false knot behind his teeth and fastening its leather straps behind his head. His hair was a bird’s nest, utterly wrecked by Umber’s need to stroke and pull it. Quentin suckled on the gag, his eyes still fixed on Ember in worship.

Ember helped the boy into his clothes, though the pants wouldn’t fasten over his swollen belly, and the seam of them surely pressed on the plug in his loosened anus. “Go forth, Quentin Coldwater,” Ember said, with one last stroke to the boy’s swollen belly. Quentin swayed, and Ember thought for a moment about fucking him again. But he had his quest, and Ember continued, “Go with our blessing, and restore the Wellspring.”

Quentin tilted his head in silent question, and Ember told him the best part: “You must ejaculate into the Wellspring until it fills, Quentin Coldwater.”

And, laughing, he sent him forth.

The thought of Quentin rubbing himself raw over the Wellspring until oversensitized and crying with the pain of coming, still swollen like a gravid woman and plugged at both ends, was enough to wring another orgasm out of Ember. He collapsed back onto his luxurious bed, breathing hard.

The Wellspring certainly had no such requirements. He would have lied, but Quentin had arrived with that friend of his, who’d been chosen by some other goddess to receive a more permanent seed to be nourished. And anyway, Umber was far too much of a stick in the mud to go along with any such scheme.

Still. Ember took his cock in hand again, and thought about other ways he could convince Quentin Coldwater that divine assistance would require his thorough and complete ravishment.