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LORD DALLINAR WAITED impatiently for the latest endless meeting with the Guild Masters to end. When it finally did, he had to sit through a meeting with Lord Kreaton and Lord Graham in their sitting room above the main chamber. Neither of his allies had any pressing issues to raise. He was glad to escape when their meeting was over.
The fairy lord used his wand to teleport to his private tower. He rarely used the rest of his huge mansion, except to host an occasional party with the upper echelon of fae beings in Nox. He preferred the seclusion and privacy of the bedroom that sat at the top of his tower.
Crossing to the armoire where his alcohol was stored, he poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and gulped it down. He drank his second glass at a more moderate pace. When his nerves felt steady, he crossed to the nightstand next to his bed and took the device he’d commissioned out. Stroking it lovingly, the fairy placed it on the bed and disrobed. He slipped the contraption over his manhood and testicles and infused it with a small amount of magic. Fused to his skin now, the apparatus made him as hard as a rock.
“Oh, yes,” the fae lord said, proudly looking down at his enlarged member. “Look at you,” he breathed while stroking himself. “You’re the epitome of manhood!”
He hadn’t summoned another woman to his bed yet. He’d decided to practice with the device first. Every night, he donned the male enhancement machine and stroked himself. While he hadn’t achieved an orgasm yet, he was getting closer to it.
Lying down on his bed, Lord Dallinar stroked, squeezed and pumped himself with his hands. His breathing grew ragged and waves of pleasure flowed through his shaft. Bucking his hips to achieve more thrust, his head rolled from side to side and moans issued from him. “I’m so close,” he gasped and stroked himself faster.
Trembling on the edge of a climax, the fairy kept up his rhythm with his hand while thrusting as hard as he could with his hips. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he orgasmed. “Yes!” he croaked in triumph, then waved his sticky hand in the air like a trophy. “I did it! I achieved a climax!” Laughing and weeping at the same time, he sat up and looked down at the mess he’d made on his bedspread like a proud first-time father. “I’m no longer impotent,” he said, brushing away happy tears with his bedspread. “This calls for a celebration!” he decided.
Still naked, Lord Dallinar wiped his hand clean on the duvet. He slid off the bed and pulled on a scarlet and gold robe, then crossed to his armoire. The emotional fairy poured whiskey into a tumbler until it was brimming at the rim. He carried the bottle over to the couch and plonked down, spilling some of the alcohol on himself. “Oops,” he said with a drunken giggle. He put the bottle on the coffee table and greedily swallowed down large mouthfuls of the liquid. Every now and then, he touched the device he was still wearing in wonder and gratitude. It hadn’t been an instant success, but he’d persevered with it. Finally, it had done the job he’d asked its maker to do.
When the bottle of whiskey was empty, the fae lord heaved himself to his feet to retrieve another one. He knew it was a bad idea to indulge in so much alcohol, but he felt he deserved to reward himself for the effort he’d made to restore his manhood. “I can begin searching for a wife again now,” he slurred as he stumbled back to the couch. He didn’t have any particular female in mind, but there was no rush to choose one. It wasn’t like any of them would be leaving Nox anytime soon. Giggling at his inner joke, the fairy began working his way through the second bottle of whiskey.
Eventually passing out, Lord Dallinar woke up lying face-down on the floor next to his couch. Pain throbbed in his groin and he rolled over with a groan. His head was pounding and his eyesight was blurry. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to remember what had happened to him last night. Joy flashed through him when he dimly recalled having his first orgasm in years. “I’m a man again,” he said tearfully and grabbed the edge of the coffee table to pull himself into a sitting position.
Pain burst through his manhood and he doubled over with a gasp. Focusing on his shaft, he realized he was still wearing the magical device. All traces of drunkenness evaporated and cold dread seized him. The note that had come with the apparatus had warned him not to leave it on for a prolonged period of time, but he’d passed out while he’d still been wearing it.
Carefully levering himself up to sit on the edge of his couch, Lord Dallinar gingerly took hold of the mechanism. He hissed in pain when he tried to remove it. The thing had become welded to his skin. He gave it a hard yank and screamed shrilly at the painful burning sensation that emanated from his privates. This wasn’t something his magical shield could have protected him from, since it was a self-inflicted wound.
The fae lord carefully stood up and shuffled over to his nightstand where his wand lay. Every step sent shards of glassy agony shooting through his groin. Taking hold of his wand, he pointed it at the apparatus. His mind went blank when he tried to think of a spell that would remove it without breaking it. With a cry of frustration, he threw his wand at the wall. It bounced off and landed on the carpet as he spun away to face the bed. The magic of Nox had cleaned his chamber, so there were no fumes of whiskey or signs of his climax left. He only wished it could remove the device from his body, but it seemed the magic didn’t extend that far.
It would be intolerable to ask anyone to help him detach the mechanism. He was going to have to handle this himself. The fairy lay down on the bed and psyched himself up for the task ahead. “It will hurt, but it has to be done,” he told himself. If he was already in this much pain from wearing the apparatus for half a night and an entire day, he could only imagine how much worse it would become if he left it on for any longer.
He squeezed his eyes shut and grasped hold of the device. He clenched his teeth to hold in his scream and yanked on it with all of his might. It came off with an unpleasant popping sound. Blinded by tears of agony, Lord Dallinar lifted his head to look down at his groin. A bloody, raw ruin had him shrieking in horror. He looked at the device to see the skin of his manhood and scrotum was still stuck inside it.
The fairy was so horrified that he fainted, but he roused after only a few minutes. His manhood had stopped bleeding, but it still looked raw and throbbed with pain. He knew he would heal, but the indignity and pain he’d just suffered had been intolerable.
A cawing sound came from the window and he blearily looked over at it. A crow was perched on the windowsill, staring through the glass at him. It cawed again and bobbed up and down. He had the distinct impression that it was laughing at his misfortune. Snatching up the apparatus from where it had fallen to the bed beside him, he turned and hurled it at the crow. It smashed through the glass and fell from his sight, vanishing like the many women he’d murdered to prevent them from telling tales about the abuse they’d suffered. The crow dodged the object and flew away, still cawing in apparent laughter.
Realizing he’d just thrown away the only thing that could help him achieve a climax, Lord Dallinar scrambled across the bed and ran to the window. “No!” he shouted in dismay when he saw the device lying on the ground far below.
Almost gibbering with fear that it had been broken beyond repair, the fae lord hurried over to the door. Dressed only in his robe, he descended to the ground and pulled the door open. Heedless of the rain and the astonished CIA and FBI agents, he raced around to where the mechanism had landed. Broken glass from his window was swept aside by his shield, preventing his feet from being cut. He dropped to his knees when he saw the apparatus had broken into three pieces. “What have I done?” he asked in horror as his agents came to a stop behind him.
“Are you alright, my lord?” the FBI agent asked.
“Do I look alright to you?” the fairy snarled without turning to face the creature.
“Do you require medical assistance, Lord Dallinar?” the CIA agent asked. “Should we call for a doctor?”
The fairy shook his head. “They can’t help me,” he said in profound self-pity as he gathered up the shattered pieces. “I’m not sure anyone can help me now,” he added as he slowly made his way back to the tower and began the long climb up to his private chamber.
His shattered window had been repaired by the time he reached his sanctum. The skin had grown back over his manhood and scrotum as well. He lay the pieces he’d gathered together on his bed, then picked up his wand. The magic of Nox wasn’t putting it back together. Pointing it at the device, he was at a loss. He wasn’t a master in the art of making magical devices. He’d killed the only person in Nox who could make them.
“There has to be someone who can fix this,” he mumbled. He needed to head to the City Square for a meeting, but he took the time to dress, brush his hair and place the broken machine in a box first. “I need to write a letter,” he said, then dictated it when a sheet of paper appeared. An envelope wrapped around the letter, but it didn’t zoom off. He was going to have the box delivered by hand and the letter would remain with it.
Teleporting to the foyer of his headquarters, he called an FBI agent over. The agent wore a nametag that said his name was Lyle. “Find Xiara Evora and give this parcel and letter to her,” he ordered. “Don’t open either of them,” he added with a glower.
“Yes, my lord,” the Night Cursed agent said. He took the items, then turned on his heel and headed for the door.
