
Chapter 54: Feast of Champions

Sweet redolences of meat, bread, and other cuisines graced my nostrils the second Róstran, Lárus, and me stepping into the chockablock ballroom. I saw unfamiliar faces and got vibes redolent of our parents’ celebration of completing their Mating Ceremony. The haughty air swarmed at least a moiety of the guests currently here, judging by their appearance and demeanor. I deduced three distinct groups: pure nobles, patricians still in the military, and commoners. Some became cognizant of our presence and directed their umbrage at Lárus and me, turning their ire into stupefaction after staring at Róstran’s genitals.

I found our reserved table and led them to it. We were adjoining to the section where amatory dyads could throw meretricious sex for the competition, and my heat instantly became piqued. A team carrying a whole elk entered the dining room, shifting the multitudinous pairs of eyes toward it. I tracked its movements from my seat, and it took up the gaping nihility on the table between other comestibles.

The distraction worked. My omphalos dragooned me for provenders. I quickly got in line and engross myself at the selection, ignoring the public bacchanal near my table. The line phlegmatically progressed. Pygmy morsels and breakfast were up first, ranging from pancake-wrapped sausage to diminutive egg sandwiches. The portion sizes increased for lunch and dinner offerings, and I received a hefty pile of elk on my plate. I loaded up on the viands and brought more to my siblings, licking my chops at the caramel that I sadly had to forgo.

I ate my comestibles while the saturnalia continued behind me. Lárus’s appetite was heteroclite as he ingurgitated at slow pace. Normally, Róstran was slow, but the runt hardly touched his pabulums. Instead, Róstran squirmed and was flustered while Lárus appeared smug. Curious, I looked underneath the table and its cover, discovering they were surreptitiously rolling the dice. My consanguineous brother jostled Róstran’s gonads and phallus with his feet. An cogitation popped into my head, and I grinned. It was a minor outlet for my concupiscence.

I ensconced on my seat, and my siblings remained oblivious to my elfin smirk. It grew and became more mischievous and ostentatious as I extended my right foot at Lárus. A few inadvertent prods against him didn’t perturb him out of his enthrallment, but the jackpot did. His head tilted at me while I furtively rolled his balls around. I savored his saggy nutsack and attention. He caught on to my signal of clandestine copulation in the immediate future and happily exposed his scrotum and sheath to my toes.

Mom and dad arrived in their exact jockstraps I saw them in minutes ago, and she was unperturbed about the multitudinous dyads of eyes beholding the masculine underwear on her. Surprisingly, dad was stolid despite wearing a matching, epicene top that I didn’t recall him wearing ever. In fact, this was the first instance of him wearing any bra, period. Notwithstanding the reversal of traditional habiliments among the sexes, he exuded dominance immemorial of his gender. He lead her by a leash, and she had her arms cuffed behind her back. As they got closer, I beheld auguries she yanked his tail before arriving. They got to the sanctioned area for the competition, and he forcefully pinned her to the floor, arched her fundament up, exposed his erect penis from his girly jockstrap, and plowed her like a sultry brute.

Hrafnir and his mate showed up with rope and a device for suspension. She dangled in the air as he wheeled her across the room, wearing a blindfold and gag. Rýnaki and Ingileif were not that far behind them, and he wore fresh cyan panties. The three amatory dyads were in their microcosm for competition, trying to one-up each other to grab the most enthrallment from the audience. His brand new underwear lost its freshness from Ingileif imbuing it and him in her hot, golden stream, and he reciprocated.

Watching Rýnaki and Ingileif micturate on one another impelled me to seek the nearest bathroom and surcease fondling my brothers’ testicles with my feet. I dashed out of the gargantuan chamber and down the hallway. Fortuitously, I didn’t have to travel far. My bladder capitulated instantly after I got into position, and I was standing up to urinate. That was close, I thought. Thank Faer for being naked.

Horny lust later trumped the feeling of relief. I caressed my vulva, nether lips, and clitoris, imagining Lárus’s penis or tongue performing magic on me. Soon the real deal would restitute the thoughts. Just a couple more hours, I uttered mentally though they felt like an eternity.

A knock on the door consternated me, and I yipped frightfully. “Occupied,” I uttered. Shit. Was I too enthralled?

“Housekeeping,” Lárus responded in his terrible accent. I couldn’t get my nude brother in the stall and start kissing and fondling him fast enough, and he was delightfully astonished at my vim. “I’d say my assumption was correct.”

“What assumption?” I catechized between smooches.

“You needing a good dicking,” Lárus answered as he fondled my breasts and nipped my mouth.

I stopped the osculations. “You’re fucking right about that, but that won’t be viable until everyone’s asleep.”

“I know.” Lárus reached down and exerted pressure on my fundament. “That’s why I’m giving you an appetizer to buy us time.”

Lárus crouched and served his lubricious aperitif. I instinctively hissed and touched his head, sensing his hot, moist tongue enveloping my mound. “Faer, you know just what I need,” I spoke beatifically.

“As I should.” An interregnum appeared, and I looked down at Lárus’s eyes as he stared up at me. “You pissed recently, didn’t you?”

“I thought I was obvious.”

“Your heat is near its peak. From the way you bolted away from your table, I figured it was torturing you, and the orgy made it worse.”

I nodded. “Yeah, and I had to pee.”

“At least the taste is not as horrific as I thought.” Lárus stuck his tongue out.

I rode the upsurge of delectation and held my inamorato’s head. He doused the fire in my crouch albeit it was a bantam bucket of water against a raging conflagration. I sucked my lips, exposing my front teeth. Suddenly, I was off the floor and against the wall, my legs wrapping around his neck. He tasted more of my insides, triggering his primal side.

I didn’t register someone else was with us until I heard an entity occupy a stall adjoining ours. Lárus didn’t seem to notice and got more enraptured by my snatch, his tongue slithering far into my moist, hot tunnel. The newcomer paid no attention to our incestuous fornication as it began to piss into the toilet. I was frightened yet surreptitiously titillated.

“Sounds like he’s hitting your buttons in the best way possible,” the entity uttered in a deep, gruff, masculine voice. I responded only with my audible pants and huffs. His cognizance aggrandized my two competing emotions, and my orgasm began the ascend. He chuckled heartily. “Young love— always overflowing with blinding fervor for each other. Reminds me of when my mate and I completed our Mating Ceremony. We fucked nearly everywhere for almost three straight months.”

Lárus sucked on my nether lips repeatedly, followed by his tongue swirling around in my vagina. I couldn’t handle his pleasure, the horrific exhilaration, and the sound of the other male urinating next to us. I howled beatifically and saturated my brother’s face with nectar. The sweet droplets dripping to the diminutive pool for awhile, and the stranger laughed a little while leaving the bathroom.

“Faer be damned, Lárus,” I uttered as he lowered me to the floor. “Did you know he was next to us?” My heart raced with adrenaline.

“Yes. That’s why I didn’t stop. We would be too focused on each other to talk and possibly tip him off of who we are,” Lárus answered, opening the bathroom stall. He washed his face, and I cleansed my pussy. “Sorry if I ignored your warning.”

“That’s alright. Your reasoning makes sense, and I know you’ll never mean to violate my body ever.” I kissed my brother on the lips. “You have my trust.”

He reciprocated. “Thanks. Now lets get back before someone catches wind of our taboo deed.”

We casually jogged backed to the feast and soon realized our mistake. Róstran was cowering Hrafnir, Rýnaki, and their wives while the parents stood between them and a group of older, naked Fenri, snarling at them. Mom and dad were intimidating despite wearing underwear of the opposite gender, particularly dad and his bra and lacy jockstrap. One of the maturer Fenri suffered fresh physical inflictions, and we recognized two of them in the group. They were dad’s parents.

The room was quiet and tense. Everyone was enthralled at the showdown. The other dyads in the lecherous contest surceased fornicating, some already conjoined by the knots. Lárus and I cautiously went to Róstran.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk. How far did the Battleborn fall from grace?” The injured Fenri uttered, rubbing his cheeks. “Dressing in feminine underwear and defending runts— such a shame to lose one of the best in Canir’s history.

“Piss off, Alvar,” dad growled. “You realize we need Fenri who can direct those who can lift weapons. This is your last warning before I’ll embarrass you further in front of these people.

Alvar spit some blood onto the floor before vacating with a few more members in the opposing group. “So this is how the end of Jóndór’s line begins.”

Dad’s sire walked closer to him, clearly disappointed. “Awfully foolish of you, Brákfur.” He turned and walked back to his mate. “We’ll discuss this later.”

“So unlike you, father— wasting time in the future like that,” dad retorted, snorting. His hackles remained erect until a couple minutes went by without additional confrontation, lowering them as he walked to Róstran. “I was so eager to fix Alvar’s fucking face. Fucking calling me effete for what I wear and who I protect.”

“I find you to be much more masculine and stronger when you showed restraint,” mom uttered, tugging her mate’s left ear with her teeth. Her arousal imbued into her macho jockstrap. “Alvar could only hope to match you in his wildest dreams.”

Dad growled sultrily and nipped mom’s lips. “I could wear your lingerie and still demonstrate how much more of a male I am compared to him.”

Mom also growled seductively, stroking dad’s chest to under his chin. “I can arrange that.”

The incident put a damper on dad’s, Rýnaki’s, Hrafnir’s, and their wives’ sexual vigors, so they sat at the assigned table. Lárus and I were near Róstran, and Róstran was lugubrious. He wasn’t agog when we pointed out to him about a section in the room dedicated to Champions of Noß and all things nerd. We saw he was deep in his trance, so Lárus snapped his fingers.

Everyone in the vast room went silent when an announcer heralded the naked champions remaining in the competition. Individually, they trickled in, and each one epitomized masculine Fenri like dad, Hrafnir, and Lárus did. They were handsome, too. I noticed some of the females drooling over them and ogling, perceiving their horny scent. Thank Faer I had my orgasm minutes ago. Surprisingly, mom wasn’t aroused. Did she climax before Róstran got picked on?

A white Direfenri redolent of Rikka on his face entered the room, waving at the crowd. I heard claps and cheers although they were the least stentorian sounds out of the reception. Íkamæn was not enthused at the lack of reception. I became Róstran and cowered once his eyes crossed over me, supplicating he didn’t descry me. I shrunk further once he caught dad and ambulated to him.

“Alpha Brákfur,” Íkamæn utter cordially, nodding.

“Íkamæn,” dad replied in the same tone, sipping some booze.

Íkamæn bowed next. “Allow me to apologize for my family’s transgression on your daughter. It’s such a shame they tarnish their reputations by being such vulgar, ignoble savages.” He finally discerned me and bowed, and I wanted to implode into nonexistence. “And I personally extend my apology to you, too, Kaera.” He bowed and repeated himself to everyone at the table, and mom only snarled at him.

“Thanks,” dad uttered, lowering his cup. “Congrats on doing so well in the competition.”

“It is only a small step in restoring my honor and my family’s virtue also. I expect many lifetimes to fully restore them.”

“You have my vote of confidence.”

“I’m honored to hear that and bear the full responsibility of not squandering your extolment.”

Mom watched Íkamæn leave before snorting. “He’ll free his father and brother first thing once he ascends to the throne.” I shuddered at the thought.

Dad slowly shook his head, imbibing more booze. “I wouldn’t be sure about that. Íkamæn does care about honor despite being callous and calculating, and something like exonerating someone clearly opprobrious like Rikka and Gellir doesn’t suit him.”

Mom snorted again and tore meat off a bone. “They can rot all the way to Salföðgrí’s realm in prison for all I care.”

“And they’ll stay there.” Dad looked at me. “I swear to Faer.” He turned his head towards where the competitors entered from. “There’s a familiar sight.” He raised his hand. “Over here, Jærvmi!”

The grey Direfenri with tattoos all over his body acknowledged dad with a wave and walked to him, offering a handshake. “It’s been awhile, Alpha Brákfur.”

Dad accepted his handshake. “Likewise, Jærvmi, and just Brákfur.” They ended the handshakes. “Congrats on making it this far.”

“Thanks, Brákfur. I imagine my crew would be ecstatic once the news reach them.” Jærvmi turned his toward a random part of the room. “I can hear them rooting for me from right here.”

Dad’s melancholy turned him stoic. “I bring unfortunate news from them.”

“What happened?”

“We were attacked by drágy.” Jærvmi appeared stupefied and mortified. “Strange, I know, and they packed way more punch than we thought they were capable of. Luckily, Jövæk and the rest of your brothers came to the rescue, but,” dad whined, “he perished during the fight.”

Jærvmi whined, also, before howling once to the sky. “May he find peace in Faer’s grace.”

Lots of girls shrieked agog at the latest newcomer, and I saw why. The most youthful Fenri among the current contestants thus far appeared. His hair was long and braided, and he had tattoos on his white chest. He relished the reception, blowing kisses to the crowd. The aroma of concupiscence spiked around the room for my table. He wasn’t afraid to mingle with the females, flexing his muscles for them to touch. He also showed no trepidation in showing off how much of a stud he was by parading his penis and balls, savoring any surreptitious touches on them. Only Lárus could outmatch him.

Dad gesticulated at the newcomer. “Is he who I think he is?”

Jærvmi nodded, looking at the young stud. “He’s Þjálfí, and he swiftly became a popular favorite across multitudinous crowds in multifarious ways.”

“I can see why,” mom uttered and whistled. “I’d suck his penis if his name was Brákfur.”

“You should see him behind a halberd, Brákfur.”

Hrafnir raised an eyebrow. “That’s his primary weapon?”

Surprised, Jærvmi swiveled his head at Hrafnir. “He’s making quite the name for himself. I heard some rumors among the Alphas and Betas that he’s on track on becoming the youngest Fenri to become a Blade Master.” He turned to dad. “They say he’s a younger version of you.”

Dad shrugged. “I ain’t getting younger, so eventually that title will go to someone like him.” I witnessed his eyes slowly turn and follow Þjálfí. “A halberd though.”

“You’re telling me, and already several people found out the hard way. Hope none of you had bets on me.”

Rýnaki whimpered. “Come on! Have faith in yourself!”

Jærvmi capitulated with a shrug. “Just being honest and realistic. I’ll still do my best in honor of Jövæk to win the contest.”

“Just be glad you're not out of forty gold right out of the gate,” Hrafnir grumbled in his mug.”

Lárus nudged me and pointed, whispering in my ear. “Do you see what I’m seeing?”

I looked at nodded. Vakörr treated Þjálfí like a best friend. “He has quite the connections,” I uttered.

Heavy footsteps reverberated down the hallway, and the chamber became silent again. The tallest Direfenri with black fur stepped in, flanked by the Alpha Prime and the royal pack. Actually he was more than being the largest individual I encountered. He was abnormally huge for a Direfenri, and his sheath, penis tip and testicles were the size of Róstran’s genitalia. He wore trinkets around his neck, and there were strange symbols tattooed on his arms.

I shivered at the sight of him. Róstran was petrified. Mom showed some rancor. Everyone else at the table was silent as he ambulated to the viands.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is Kellam, the other topic in the city,” Jærvmi enunciated. His twitched, and he turned towards the source. “And there’s his entourage.”

“Of course,” dad sighed.

Kellam met with a group and chatted with them briefly before praying together, insulting others that didn’t participate. They shared a trinket with him, which I presumed was a symbol of their sect, the Church of the Red Wolf. Mom gradually got more furious as he led a sermon which proclaimed everyone was heretics and destined to suffer in one of our two versions of hell. Vakörr and Manasína were the most enthusiastic to practice their religion with them.

“How is he in the arena?” Dad catechized while the pietistic harangue continued. “I heard he’s horrifying.”

“Invidious would still be a litotes,” Jærvmi responded. “Survivors say he’s larger when he fights, and injuries don’t faze him, period.” He picked up a piece of fruit ponderous enough to fit in both hands. “I’ve witnessed him do this,” he squashed it and sent fragment flying, “to contestants heads, and luckily the adjudicators intervened in time before he actually got to that point.”

“So don’t let him grab you,” Dágfárik spoke lackadaisically.

“If only it was that simple.”

Kellam ended the sermon and eventually arrive at the table where my family and I sat. “Evening, fellow brothers and sisters of Faer,” he spoke in the deepest, most chilling voice ever. “I’m here to humbly beseech you for your magnanimous contributions, so we can execute Faer’s plan and have him help to those in need.”

“He can start by damming and burning your soul,” mom mutter into her cup.

Dad quickly deposited a bantam handful of gold into Kellam’s sack. “That’s all we can spare.”

Kellam bowed. “Bless you, Brother Brákfur. You are the living embodiment of Faer, his teachings, and what it means to be a Fenri.”

“My parents inculcated that into me ever since I nursed on my mother’s tits.”

“They taught you well.” Kellam gazed at the rest of the table. “It’s never too late to start heading his call.” He fixated on mom, and my blood boiled as he caressed her right cheek though I was too paralyzed to defend her. “Especially for a gorgeous soul such as yourself. Join me. I promise I and my brothers and sisters to be by your side, never let you divagate onto sinful paths, and protect you from those that seek to harm or corrupt you.”

“Funny,” mom quipped bitterly. “I heard similar words before and thought they were true until they lead my life straight to hell.”

“I suspect he was a sinner whose comeuppance will arrive shortly. I promise my words are true as if Faer himself uttered them.”

“No thanks. I’m fine where I am in his hierarchy and have Brákfur as my shepherd.” Mom gasped and shattered glass against Kellam’s head when he initially caressed her naked breasts.

Kellam growled and lifted her by her throat. She struggled to break free. “You fucking bitch.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called that,” mom struggled to articulate, glaring cholerically at Kellam.

“Your kind are nothing but wolves and abominations scourging this pristine world and deserve eradication.” I had rancorous horripilations when Kellam’s eyes gazed at me “Perhaps your pups are salvageable, or maybe you can watch them be the first.” Mom snapped and managed to chomp hard on his hand holding her, and he howled but tightened his grip. “You’re pissing me off, Þakúrötyðlý’s whore.”

“Enough of this, Kellam,” the Alpha Prime bellowed after showing up from the ether. “You know the ukases: save the barbarism for only the arena and strictly for the contestants.”

“Terribly sorry, Prime Álköveik.” Kellam released mom from his grasp, and she gasped and coughed. “I’ve disappointed you and Faer’s will. I’ll pray harder tonight and hear what he has me do as requital.” He waved her farewell as he left with his pious sect. “May Faer shield your souls from damnation.”

“You ok, Hlédís?” Dad inquired after rushing to her aid.

“I’m fine,” she answered in a raspy voice. I finally had the courage to flock toward her, and Lárus shared similar thoughts. She relied on dad to stand up. “Thanks.”

Dad looked around the table. “Where’s Róstran?” Everyone else joined the search.

Lárus looked under the table. “He’s here!”

I peered under the table cloth and beheld Róstran cowering in a fetal position. “You’re okay, Róstran; it’s safe now.”

Dad was the next to lift up the tablecloth. “Hey there, big guy. You want to come out?” Róstran trembled too hard to respond. “You want to be in your room?” The question prompted an affirmative in all of the quavering. “I like that idea, too. Let’s get some rest now and start another day.” He poked above the table, and Lárus and I looked above too. “Everyone can retire for the night if you so wish,” he uttered seriously. “I can care less about how much longer the feast will last and the punctilious decorum.”

“Thank fucking Faer,” mom vociferated while redoing her hair, and she inspected me, Lárus, and Róstran when Róstran appeared, embracing the lovable runt. “I’ve had my share of lying assholes to last another lifetime, especially the sacrosanct, jingoistic kinds.”