Crawl in Bed With a Barrow Wight

Crawling Into Bed With a Barrow Wight
And a Good Book

Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?

*A hot, lustful gaze travels over Lee. The barrow wight licks lush, ripe lips and moves closer to his host, not quite touching him* Why, my dear, nothing so ordinary. I have the finest cashmere blankets in which to wrap your tender skin.

*gulps* *flushes* Oh.... um...What are you wearing?

*The wight looks amused*Only my heart, lovely one. *He fingers the blanket covering them and leans against Lee, breath warm in his ear*May I see what you're wearing, darling?

*jerks back* Um...*glances frantically around for distraction* What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?

*Hunger flashes in the wight's green eyes as he imagines the slide of rich marrow down his throat as he sucks Lee's sweet bones. He shakes his head to clear it, having promised Callum he'd behave. He traces Lee's lips with an unsteady finger* Brandy and chocolates to fill your pretty mouth.

*shivers* Oh my ....If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?

*A tender smile transforms the wight's face, making him bewitchingly lovely* Silk scarves and scented oils for my beautiful Callum. Also, some trinkets from the gruagach, Liam. He knows I enjoy pretty things. *His gaze once again ravishes Lee. His voice drops to almost a whisper* There are also stray bones from my more precious lovers. I can't bring myself to part with them.

*swallows hard and measures the distance to the exit* Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?

I am never cold, pet. The covers are for your benefit. *His smile turns wicked and he tugs on the plush blankets* Of course if you're too warm we can do away with these.

*blinks* Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?

*Lust darkens the barrow wight's eyes* Sweet man, you can put your feet anywhere you like. *He barely stops himself from pushing Lee onto his back, sighs and glances around the room* Don't we have a story to read?

*sighs in relief* Oh yes, story.  That's what we're here for. What are we reading?

Callum's Fate
(Down on the Farm Anthology)

Callum came to the farm to find a home, but will he find his last resting place instead?


Callum ran until his lungs burned; every breath ragged, painful. Fear spurred him on, though fog began to cling to the rough mounds of the barrows, making such flight dangerous. Stones stabbed through his worn boots with each footfall, but he daren't stop. There had been voices in the shadows...

Exhaustion slowed him, his chest heaving as he fought for air. Dusk began to lay its dark mantle on the landscape and he shivered as a finger of dread traveled his spine. Dangerous to be on the moors at night without shelter. He cursed the ill fortune that had sent him this way, but he was hungry and ill. He'd followed the will-o-the-wisp, thinking they were the lights of a farmhouse. His brothers would crudely have called them swamp gas and continued on the road, but Callum had always been the fool.

An owl hooted in the semi-darkness making his skin crawl. "Sweet lord," he muttered, heart thumping. "Protect me—"

He stumbled on a loose stone and fell heavily against a dark mound of earth.Oh God! The ground caved in under him and he dropped into the barrow in a shower of dirt.

"Save me!" he sobbed as he scrambled to his knees. Sinewy arms reached up from the blackness and wrapped around him. Callum screamed, but no sound escaped his throat, choked with terror. He was yanked against a hard chest and hands ran over him, disembodied in the darkness.

"Soft. Sweet." A voice sliced the silence, a cold breath against his face. He gagged on the waft of rot and decay. The tip of a dry tongue scraped over his jaw and he shuddered against the body under him. "Nice strong bones to gnaw," the voice continued. "Sweet marrow to suck and swallow. Shall I eat you, my lovely one?"

Callum whimpered as the low tones wound through his head. The mists parted and moonlight filled the barrow, showing him the creature. He gasped at the cold beauty of its face. Eyes dark as pitch burned into him, brushed against his soul. Lush lips, dripping honey, overripe, took his mouth in a kiss that sent his pulse into a riot of hunger and desire.

A vague warning sounded in his head, urging him to run. The wight's hands slid down his back and squeezed his ass and Callum groaned as he was rocked against the long, hard length of the creature's erection. His own cock grew heavy, aching as it rubbed along the impossible thickness of the ghoul's shaft.

Nimble fingers pushed against his balls and sensitive hole through his clothing and Callum's deep moan spilled into the lush mouth sucking his tongue. There'd been a boy back home he'd touched on occasion, but they'd never... He never... But the thought of the wight's huge cock sliding into him, stretching him open, filled him with a wild lust he couldn't control.

He trembled and sobbed with need as the creature in the guise of this beautiful man trailed kisses down his neck. It moved his long hair aside to nibble at his collar bone. The thing's hand reached between them and clutched his cock, and pleasure, hot as fire, swept through him.

The wight's plump lips returned to his ear. "Stay with me," it whispered as he stroked and squeezed him into a frenzy of bliss.

Callum fought to catch his breath, dizzy. "Yes." He panted. He'd promise anything to keep the creature stroking his dick. The wight's other hand snaked into his trousers, tugged his ball sack, and he shouted as he came, his orgasm ripping through him in waves of ecstasy. His seed spilled in a warm gush into the creature's hand. Even when he was spent, the thing continued to pull on his sensitive cock, sending unbearable sparks of bliss through him. He fell weeping against its chest, begging to be let go.


The wight's whisper nudged Callum from the dream he was falling into. What?

Dianne Hartsock

1 comment:

  1. Hey, sorry about that, Lee! Had no idea the barrow wight was on the prowl... :)


Be Yourself

To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting. ~e.e. cummings, 1955