Once, Orpheus was a Greek prince, the darling of the court, who loved to sing and play the lyre. Now, he belongs to the Centaurs who stole him.
He is their lovely blond plaything, their toy. But only Kinna, the powerful Centaur leader, decides who can make use of Orpheus’s talents. And those talents don’t stop at singing…
Adult readers only! This 8.000 word gay erotic story contains explicit gay sexual situations. All characters are 18 or older.
Orpheus sang on, letting his voice range high—the pure, clear notes sounded amazing, louder than ever before—and finally came to a stop, almost breathless, but feeling exhilarated.
The Centaurs cheered him, louder than before.
With a pang of worry, Orpheus saw that there were three flasks of wine in circulation now.
The Centaurs were celebrating by getting drunk, and that spelled danger. Wine drove them wild.
“Here, let the boy have some wine,” one of the Centaurs yelled, a young one named Xerxes. “He sang well!”
A leather flask was tossed in Orpheus’s direction, and he caught it. It smelled strongly of horse.
In truth, Orpheus was thirsty, and singing only made him more so. He took a quick swallow, then another, surprised at how good it was. It was a dark, strong wine that tasted rich enough to be poured at his father’s table. Whatever farmer they had raided must be rich.
Xerxes came closer. He was a brawny young Centaur with long dark brown hair, and there was a dragon tattooed on his chest. Reaching out, he tilted the flask of wine over Orpheus’s mouth, forcing him to swallow more. “Don’t stop now, boy!”
Orpheus sputtered, feeling the wine flood his throat and pool into his stomach.
He wasn’t used to drinking. His father would only let him have watered wine, even though Orpheus was an adult. His father still saw him as the youngest prince, the baby of the family, and probably always would.
Maybe that was why the wine tasted so good now. It tasted of things that were forbidden.
Finally Xerxes took the half-empty wine flask away, and Orpheus wiped his chin, aware that wine was dripping down his bare chest.
Another Centaur came up and called over his shoulder to Kinna, “Can I have him?”
Orpheus’s last swallow of wine went the wrong way. He coughed, desperately gasping for air.
“You are bold,” Kinna said in his deep, dark voice, sounding disapproving. “Very bold, Diodoros.”
“I thought you said we feast tonight?” Diodoros countered. He was smiling, but it looked somehow feral. “Then why not let me entertain myself?”