Gift for: The Pinch Hitters, but Secretly for refche, and no longer Something I’ve Always Wanted to Write.
Gift from: waxbean
Pairings: Shadwell/Madame Tracy, Adam/Pepper, and Adam/Shadwell.
Warnings: masturbation, voyeurism, het sex, dubious consent, explicit sexualized images of one Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell (Retired).
Summary: What could happen when the Antichrist is your sex therapist…
A/N: This should probably just be burned. Enjoy!
Shadwell rolled over to his side of the bed without a word. He wiped his hand on the bedsheets and pretended not to hear Madame Tracy’s words.
“You old silly. Just let me try again.”
But he wouldn’t. A man has his pride and all that. And Shadwell’s pride had long been tested by this particular trial.
“Let me alone, Wumman,” he mumbled.
“Well, all right then, suit yourself, love. I’ll just go see about breakfast.”
When he was certain she was gone, he raised his hand to his nose and inhaled deeply. There it was – that smell – the scent of a woman’s sex. At any other point in his life, this smell would have done it for him. But not now. Something had changed in the last few years. It had happened before Shangri-La, too. He couldn’t quite remember when – just one day, it was gone.
Still, he had hope. He licked his fingers slowly, relishing the lingering taste of the fluids of pleasure. They liked to joke about it. They called it his “hand of power.” Oh, he might be having certain problems, but he wasn’t the type of soldier who didn’t know several ways of polishing a gun. Madame Tracy was hardly suffering from a lack of attention.
He licked and breathed and conjured images of rosy brown nipples, generous curves, and soft folds of skin. All the while, his other hand had traveled downwards, creeping steadily towards his cock. Perhaps if he surprised it, it might just surprise him?
But when his hand found its target, there was nothing but a limp, slightly moist roll of flesh. He sighed.
“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was, dear?”
“Adam Young, but that’s not important. I call about this time every year to check in on you two.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t catch that. What?”
“Think nothing of it.”
“So how is life at Shangri-La?”
“Oh, my, well, we have no complaints, do we, Mr S? None at all. Happy to be in retirement. And Mr. S has the loveliest garden. Of course, I still have a few clients here and there. It’s so hard to leave the trade, you know…”
“Are you sure there’s nothing troubling you, Madame Tracy?
“Oh, I mean, that Mrs. Ormerod is still quite demanding when she comes to talk to her husband – still monopolizing all my time with the Departed, but that’s not really what I’d call a problem… I suppose there is one thing, though. But I probably shouldn’t…”
“No, please, go on. I want things to be perfect for you. It’s really quite important to me.”
“Oh, all right, it’s not a problem for me… well, it affects me, but not in the way it’s going to sound. You see, it’s Mr. S. He’s having some – difficulties. Manly difficulties. Ah.”
“Oh, dear, I shouldn’t have said anything. If Mr S knew, he’d—”
“No, no. Think nothing of this, too.”
Shadwell knew he needed to get up – he had work to do. The garden needed weeding. And then there were all the newspapers to go through. One had to stay on the up and up when dealing with the local Occult, after all.
But his eyes felt heavy and really, there was no pressing need to get out of bed just this instant. Madame Tracy, harlot that she was, would keep his breakfast warm.
He felt something tickling him, sort of at the back of his throat. No, really, it was more like the top of his head. No, inside his head. It was a peculiar though not at all unpleasant sensation. He briefly thought of Madame Tracy’s pink feathery thing that she liked to wear on Saturday nights. The sensation was quite suddenly a lot stronger. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Then it was gone.
When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find himself already outside in his garden, especially as he was still lying in his bed. He didn’t feel particularly concerned, though. He hadn’t dreamt since he was a child. Yet he thought he might just be dreaming now.
The wind rustled the leaves of the trees that surrounded the garden. It was a teasing sort of sound. Then he heard something else, a chuckle. He turned over in his bed towards it.
There before him, the trees parted like the heavy drapes of the old moviehouse from his childhood. There was someone there – someone who looked familiar, although he was fairly sure he’d never met the person – or rather, the boy who stood there.
“Witch,” he muttered under his breath. But his heart wasn’t in it and he didn’t turn away.
The boy looked up then, meeting his gaze with fantastically bright eyes. He smiled at Shadwell. It was rather breathtaking, if you went in for that sort of thing. Not in a million years would Shadwell have admitted that he did.
It was several long moments before Shadwell could look away from those eyes. But when he did, he noticed, with some embarrassment, that the boy was naked. He was beautiful, and lithe, and completely starkers.
Perhaps the boy was a witch after all, Shadwell mused. Witches worked naked in the out of doors. He’d read that somewhere, he was certain.
Adam, a voice murmured into his ear. Shadwell shivered. He felt compelled to say the name aloud.
“Adam,” he whispered in a husky voice.
Adam continued to smile at Shadwell. It was a knowing smile – a dangerous smile— maybe the kind that one might find on a hanging judge. Shadwell waited, wondering what the verdict would be.
Then Adam simply began to move. He was walking towards Shadwell, his hands swinging by his sides, his arms brushing against his smooth torso. With each swing, his arms moved a bit more leisurely, hands lingering on the firm muscle of his outer thighs and the delicate ridges of his hip bones. When Adam was only a few yards away, his movements became a bit more intense, his hands now determinedly stroking his skin.
It was with utter fascination that Shadwell watched as the boy’s cock began to harden.
Shameless, Shadwell thought. He wasn’t sure who was more shameless, though. The boy who was beginning to pump his cock or himself for watching the whole seedy affair.
He was moving his fine young hand up and down at a leisurely pace. Slow and steady. Shadwell couldn’t help it. He licked his lips and wished fervently for the return of his manliness.
He winked at Shadwell then. And then he casually looked over his shoulder. Shadwell looked, too. Someone was joining him. And that someone was a young, red-headed thing with a dreamy expression on her face. She reminded him of Madame Tracy in her youth.
Adam gestured to the ground, never taking his eyes away from Shadwell’s. The girl lay down. She opened her legs, her smile as vacant as her dead eyes. Adam stood over her while he continued to stroke his cock.
Unlike Shadwell, Adam seemed to have no time for the slow working of the female body. It was enough to make him snort in derision. When his father had told him about sex, he’d stressed that bringing a woman to pleasure should be a gentleman’s first priority. Adam simply knelt between the red-head’s legs, worked two fingers inside of her, and then positioned himself just above her.
Disapproval rather quickly gave way to anticipation. After all, it had been several years since Shadwell had been in such a position. Suddenly, he realized that Adam knew this. And with this knowledge, he was deliberately teasing Shadwell.
As if he was standing right over the two would-be lovers, Shadwell watched as Adam guided his cock in slow circles around the outside of the girl’s flesh. He could see him spreading shiny fluid all over her insides of her thighs and his cock.
How Shadwell longed to smell her sweet sex… to enjoy that sharp taste.
Adam smiled then. And Shadwell quite suddenly found himself poised over the dull-witted girl, with his cock, still limp and forlorn, hanging just outside her sweet flesh. It was a cruel joke.
Shadwell had a curse at the tip of his tongue when he felt the boy’s hand wrap around his cock. Adam’s hands were slick with the girl’s sex. With one hand, Adam began to touch Shadwell’s there, where no man had ever touched. With the other, he reached toward’s Shadwell’s mouth, understanding his need to smell and taste.
The boy wrought a miracle, Shadwell thought inanely, as he felt his cock begin to stiffen for the first time in far too long.
He gasped, in shock and pleasure. Adam merely grinned, his hands never wavering in their tasks.
From far away, over the din of the wind in the trees and his own heavy breathing, Shadwell heard a voice. “Oh, Mr.S, do wait for me!”
He wondered if Adam heard it, too. But Adam said nothing.
When Shadwell realized that he had finally reached the full-mast of his youth, Adam guided his cock downwards into the girl.
“Oh, Mr. S.”
The girl might have been staring off into nothing, but she was certainly rocking her hips rather forcefully. Shadwell knew he had only moments before his resolve crumbled. He may not have any idea about the identity of the sweet young child underneath him, but he was determined that she enjoy herself anyway.
He angled himself forward, pinning Adam’s hand between his lower belly and the girl. And then he grinded, three times hard, then once lightly.
“Yes, yes. Yes!”
Shadwell felt her hips lift off the ground as she met him thrust for thrust. Then her eyes, though expressionless, went black and her lips deepened in color to dark red. Shadwell felt a rush of wetness all around his cock.
He grunted as he continued to move inside of her, looking for his own release.
Adam squeezed Shadwell’s cock tightly. The girl was gone. Shadwell felt the sudden desperation of a man on the tip of a long-denied climax. But within a second, it was Adam underneath him. Adam, whose expression was anything but vacant.
Shadwell had never done anything with a man. Had never even been tempted. Probably would have condemned anyone who would have suggested such a notion.
But this felt good. Too good to shun because of prior biases.
For the second time, he muttered aloud, “Witch.” And then he continued to rub his cock against the supple body beneath him.
Adam laughed, all the while staring him straight into the eye. He ran his tongue across the bottom of his lips.
“Is that what you really want?”
Shadwell was nearly dizzy with anticipation. He could feel it – he was almost there. He increased his frenzied movements.
Shadwell looked down then, and there before him, on Adam’s perfectly sculpted, slightly sweaty torso, were three nipples.
They were magnificent.
Shadwell let out the most undignified sound he’d ever made in his life as he spilled himself all over Adam. Then he collapsed on top of him and closed his eyes, too flabbergasted to care whether or not the young witch found his own pleasure.
“Oh, Mr. S! I didn’t know you had it in you.”
It was several moments before Shadwell could open his eyes. But when he did, he found himself still in his bed, inside of his bungalow, and with Madame Tracy’s beloved body underneath him.
Shangri-La, he thought. He’d finally made it.