Date: Sat, 13 Dec 2014 22:51:31 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Sticky Fingers

                          STICKY FINGERS
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     Kenow and I walked the streets like any two visitors to the lovely
bejeweled city of Swendon, wide-eyed and staring at all that was going
on. There was a lot to see. On one side of us, a juggler was juggling balls
of fire trapped in glass globes. It was magic that let him do that (albeit
getting his hands warmed in the process), magic that kept the fire burning
even though sealed away in glass, and kept the glass from melting from the
blaze inside it. On the other side, merchants were selling everything a
family would need to celebrate the Harvest Feastday coming up in two more
days, everything from live cockatrice to roc's eggs to a caketree's
bountiful harvest of ready-made multi-flavored desserts all laid out, the
stems from which they formed still attached to help it stay fresh.
     The crowd, too, was worth watching and the reason Kenow and I were
here. Villagers from all over had come to enjoy the city and purchase their
feast's provisions. That of course brought in farmers and merchants to sell
their wares to the many people, and that brought in people to entertain
like the juggler and earn some money. Among the humans which made up the
majority was a fair percentage of the other races of the land, such as
those over there, a group of elves were standing and talking with all
apparently amiability to a pair of trolls, their mortal enemies at any
other time or place. One of the other entertainers we'd seen had a trio of
performing dragons (smaller ones, of course) running in a circle with
riders performing acrobatics.
     And with the celebration of the Winter Gifting only a month away,
everything was selling and selling briskly. So a lot of money was about on
the streets of the city, where the very buildings were built out of
gigantic jewels carved and hollowed out with rooms and halls and windows
and doors (courtesy of a powerful mage nearly a hundred years ago), and
money attracts people of my profession, and of Kenow's.
     The pickpocket. The petty thief. The burglar.
     Kenow and I were a team, and we did the old bump-and-snatch. Kenow, a
large, muscular man, handsome in a simple, clean sort of way, would bump
into the target, enough to dishevel and possibly knock the man down. He
would pick the man up, brushing at his clothing with profuse apologies that
were so sincere the man would have to forgive him. In the midst of those
huge hands hitting his body all over, the man would never notice that I had
slipped in and snatch away his purse, or a ring or whatever else of value
he had. After that, unless we made it through all that without being
detected, we had to make ourselves scarce for a while. So we wanted to make
our snatches count.
     We were searching for a worthy victim now. "How about him?" Kenow
asked. He was pointing a single thick finger at a richly appointed man
getting out of a large carriage drawn by a pair of matched griffins.
     I shook my head. "Look at what he's got with him." The man's wives
were climbing out of the carriage after him. "Any man who has to buy that
many dresses doesn't have anything left."
     "He has to be rich to afford that many women." Kenow argued.
     "All of whom are watching him jealously, to make sure the other wives
don't freeze them out." I pointed out. "We'd never get away without a
fight."
     "He's got the bag of gold hanging right from his belt." Kenow pointed
to a troll, this one a guard.
     "And it can keep on hanging there." I said. "Unless you think you can
take him." Kenow was a big man, but not that big.
     But Kenow actually judged the troll's prowess before he shook his
head. "Okay, you pick one."
     "How about him?" I pointed to a smaller man. "His purse is inside his
robe, but I can lift it if you can keep him busy."
     "Okay, let's hit him." Kenow led the way toward the thin, elderly
looking man. Our target wore a simple homespun robe without decoration, and
carried a long stick, too short to be a walking stick, but too long to be a
toothpick, perhaps eight to ten inches, and finely carved. I didn't want
the man's stick, I wanted that bulge I saw inside the robe on his right
side, resting atop the waist tie and held in place that way, it appeared to
be resting with no ties. The man had a substantial pile and had dressed
poorly to try to look like less than he was...but the way coins move in a
pouch is unmistakable to the trained eye, and I knew he had a few hundred
coins on him. If they were silver or gold, we'd be set for the entire
Feastday holiday in the eyes of the Thieves' Guild.
     I was a few steps behind Kenow, apparently a lone pedestrian. Kenow
did it up right, he seemed to be gawking at the juggler and plowed into the
target, knocking him onto the ground on all fours. Kenow hauled him to his
feet, spieling his apology, "Oh, sir, I am so sorry, I didn't see you? Are
you hurt, sir? Let me get some of this street dust off of you, at least."
And Kenow's hands began flailing at the man's robe.
     I slid in from behind and my hand caught the purse and lifted it away
and I stepped rapidly into a group of men nearby. Kenow finished his
"dusting" and joined me and we started walking away, two friends once
again, me with a package and him my guardian.
     And then the thrice-cursed bag began to speak up. "Who are you? You
aren't my master! Master, master! These men have stolen me from you!"
     A magical coin pouch. Of course, we should have known. A man with that
much money and dares to carry it on his person usually has only one
profession.
     And the man suddenly appeared right in front of us, out of thin air!
We'd pinched the purse of a magician!
     "Master, master, they took me from you, they reached in your robe and
took me!" the purse yammered.
     "We did not, the pouch fell out and I picked it up and was wondering
where you were..." I started arguing. Kenow kept silent, he knew I was
better at talking our way out of trouble.
     "No, I didn't fall out of your robe, Master, it was this one who took
me, he's a thief with sticky fingers, sticky fingers, sticky fingers!" And
the purse kept up the chant of those two final words, one of several slang
terms for a pickpocket.
     I shook my head and said to the wizard with an artfully artless smile
of resignation. "A man cannot argue with a magical item. I have told you
what happened, and you must choose which of us you will believe."
     "Sticky fingers, sticky fingers, sticky fingers...." the purse was
indefatigable, a person would have run out of air by this time.
     "I know this purse well, he belonged to my own master until he passed
to the next realm and bequeathed it to me. You two do have sticky fingers,
young man, and I think it's time you both realized that before you find
your fingers cut off by the Duke of Swendon."
     He lifted his stick and I realized that of course it was his magic
wand (what else?) and cursed myself silently for an idiot. Nothing left to
do but hope this wizard wasn't too malevolent and the curse he placed on us
wasn't too expensive to remove.
     The spell he cast on us was short, but the effect was immediate. My
right hand shot upwards and displayed itself. Kenow's left hand did the
same, and then the two hands reached for each other and interlocked and
held! We were left, two men holding hands like a pair of lovers.
     And the wizard smiled, picked up the purse where it had fallen (my
right hand had been holding that damnable talking purse!) and returned it
to its resting place. "And a happy feast to both of you gentlemen." he said
and took off.
     I tried to lift my hand away from Kenow's and couldn't. He was
struggling to free his own hand, but it was useless. We were interlocked
and that was that.
     Nothing to do but make our way back to the Thieves' Guild hall and
report our condition. But we didn't have to go there until sundown and that
gave us that long to seek out help.
     Our struggles had done this much, now our hands weren't with
interlocked fingers, now my hand was around his wrist and his fingers were
around my forearm just above the wrist. We sat down at an outdoor cafeteria
over a couple of cups of ale, and kept experimenting. We could slide our
hands over each other's bare skin all we wanted to. We couldn't slide it
back down again, but now I had my hand well up Kenow's shirt and he had his
hand well up inside mine.
     "It's like our hands are bound somewhere." I told Kenow. "If we could
get someplace and see where they are going, we might be able to reach a
point where they will slide off. That would have to abate this spell. It
was too simple a charm to be anything too complicated."
     "So what do you want to do?" Kenow asked me, his free hand reaching in
and massaging an itch on one broad nipple. His shirt was disarranged enough
from my arm up the sleeve to let me see the brown nub clearly as his
fingers darted at it over and over again.
     "We should rent us a room and in there, remove our shirts and whatever
else we must, and slide our hands until they reach their destination and
the charm abates."
     "And if the charm does not abate?"
     "Then we will go to the Guildmaster and beg his help in finding a mage
to remove the curse from us." I said. "At least we can tell him we tried
all we could to not force the expense upon the Guild before we came to
him."
     Kenow couldn't argue with that logic, for the Guildmaster, like any
good Thieves' Guildmaster, kept both of his eyes on the income of the Guild
and nowhere else.
     The cafeteria where we were had rooms to let by the day or the hour,
and the owner smirked at us, two men fondling each other's bodies as we
asked for the room. Kenow scowled fiercely and the owner blanched, but was
still smirking as we walked off with our key.
     "Let it be." I soothed my partner when we got into the room, a simple
bed and enough room left over to stand upon, and no more, a real
whore's-crib of a room. "He doesn't know about the charm laid upon us, and
Goddess willing, he never will. We don't want a cafe owner pointing to us
and saying that there go a pair of thieves, do we?"
     "We'll have to cut our shirts open." Kenow responded, and his free
hand took out his dagger. He wielded the dagger on my shirt with a surgical
efficiency that told me he could gut a hapless victim in an alley easily if
he chose. Why he wasn't doing that instead of performing as the "bumper"
for a "sticky fingers" like me?
     "You need to do mine." Kenow said and handed me the dagger. I didn't
slice the shirt as cleanly as he had mine, I'd never learned the art of the
blade, after all. But I managed and we were able to remove our shirts and
were bare to the waist, both of us, sitting on the bed.
     Our hands were free to move and did so. My hand went over Kenow's
shoulder but balked at traveling down his back. His hand and mine traveled
over each other's pectoral. Kenow stopped and palped my breast, an impish
grin upon his face, that I was happy enough to return. This was an
embarrassing situation for both of us, after all. And our hands were still
traveling with no sign of letting go.
     "Mayhaps we should remove the rest of our clothes." Kenow said when my
hand reached his slim, taut stomach. His own hand was still on my breast,
he had stopped there while my own hand ventured further. "If we have to cut
our pants as well as our shirts, we will be naked and trapped in here."
     "I fear you may be right." I agreed. "I also fear that this may be an
unending journey, one that roams all over and returns to the place where it
started, and neither of us will ever be free."
     "Courage, my friend." Kenow urged me as he stood up and his hands went
to his pants' waist tie. The cord was undone and he slid them down his
body, and his wrap underneath went with them, baring his entire body to
me. I'd never seen it all together like this before. His face was most
familiar, with its square, solid simplicity under a thick thatch of black
hair cut under a bowl, his jowl kept scraped clear of beard or
mustache. His body held hair as well, not in profusion but enough to fuzz
his chest between his nipples and make a line from his navel to his pubic
bush. His chest was a bulging of beauty, his stomach as I have said was a
flat plateau of male flesh dimpled only in its exact center by his
navel. His legs were sturdy and well formed, and in the middle of all this
was his organ, a large, grayish-brown piece of man-fruit begging to be
plucked.
     And my hand was upon his body, a mere hands-width away from that
harvest bounty of male flesh.
     My hand would not move in any direction but one, and that was toward
his maleness. His own hand remained at my breast, and I stopped when I was
touching the top of his pubic brushpile, and said, my voice hoarse with my
tension, "Perhaps I should remove my own clothes before I do any more."
     "I think you should." Kenow agreed. And his hand moved until it was at
my own stomach, as if waiting for me to pull off my trousers.
     I removed my pants as best I could, for Kenow's hand was plastered to
my stomach and when I was done, Kenow's hand moved itself. I could see him
attempt to move it from side to side, but like my own, it would only move
itself downwards. I saw his hand only a scant distance from my own penis,
and I groaned as softly as I could, to hide the sound from Kenow, but I
couldn't hide my rising erection.
     Kenow only smiled as he saw my prick pointing at him like a
questioning hound, and he gestured towards his own. "I have noticed well
the travel our hands are taking without our volition." he said. "And since
our room is only ours for another three quarters of an hour, we should make
the best of this time, do you not think?"
     "I must admit you are right, about our hands." I said. "It seems a
miserable joke upon us by that magician, even if we did burgle that noisome
purse from him. But what other choice do we have but to see if this is what
he intended for our punishment?"
     Kenow's hand slid down and upon my dong. "And the voyage ends." he
said to me. "I can move it no further out, though it seems like I can move
it somewhat, at least." And he moved his hand upon me, and his motions were
fluid and graceful and unencumbered by magic or by lack of skill.
     I moaned and my own hand happily went down onto his own organ, which
had inflated itself in anticipation of my arrival.
     As he grasped me, I groaned and fell back onto the bed, and he quickly
joined me, we squirmed around as our hands continued to pleasure each
other. And how could we not pleasure each other, with our every move of our
hands locked onto each other's dong?
     Kenow's prick was so rich and thick and firm! His hand upon my own
organ was so swift, so soft, so adept and so tender! I moaned as he pumped
at me and he groaned as I pounded on him and our faces looked into each
other's and we reached and we kissed and our free hands reached to hold
each other as best we could.
     There was a liberating aspect to our hands being magically affixed to
each other's dong, we didn't slip about or even have to hold on tightly
unless we chose, all we had to do was move our hand and any motion at all
translated into the other's pleasure.
     Kenow moaned and released me and began to turn around in bed, he had
to pivot his hand around my cock to do so, but the magic permitted this so
long as his hand did not leave my cock entirely. I was puzzled until he
settled back again, this time with his head at my crotch and his own knees
planted on either side of my head.
     I understood and scooted downwards so we could fit on the bed better,
and then he pushed my cockskin down far as he could and the free part of it
at the top he took into his mouth.
     And as he did this, his hand released from my cock entirely! I was
surprised and said, "Quick, Kenow, can you get away from me now?"
     But Kenow's mouth was now as firmly locked upon me as his hand had
been. He struggled, then grunted, shrugged.
     "I see you are still locked, though now with your mouth instead." I
said. "But if lovemaking freed you this much, perhaps continuing it will
free you the more."
     Kenow grunted around my cock and then he began to suck upon me. His
mouth was firm and warm and moist upon my flesh, his motions sent my body
into an agony of delight that made me writhe upon him. I pumped at him
faster than before and as he loved upon me with his mouth as I jerked him,
I looked at him and asked myself, did I owe him more than this?
     He had freed himself at least in one way, by changing the purpose of
the magic. Maybe we could change the purpose even more.
     I reached with my other hand for Kenow's dong and I found that when I
placed my left hand upon his prick and gripped it, my right hand released
entirely. I was now trapped with my left hand on Kenow's cock, but still,
there was a certain degree of freedom in this. I could choose how I was
trapped with him.
     Kenow continued to suck on me and the joy washed over me anew at my
discovery. I looked again at his prick, so big and thick and masculine and
the smell of it was like the feastday meats that would be enjoyed in a few
days.
     So I surrendered myself and sank onto Kenow's cock and I sucked at him
the way he sucked at me. My mouth was fastened upon him but I no longer
cared, for he was hard and thick and luscious and tasty and I could feast
upon this man-meal as long as I wanted!
     My own ecstasy swarmed upon me and I couldn't hold off, I couldn't
warn Kenow with more than a moan and I moaned and I thrashed and Kenow
clutched me tightly and I was overwhelmed with my orgasm, I groaned and
ejaculated into his mouth heavily, my sexual flood pouring into him, but he
drank me down as I filled his mouth, and even when I was done, he kept
sucking at me to wring from me the very last drop of my sexual fluids.
     I was exhausted and short of breath and I put my right hand back on
his cock and worked it with my hand and to my relief, my hand replaced my
mouth on his cock as the captive, I left it hostage and lifted up on the
bed. "I need to rest before I try to repay you in kind." I told Kenow.
     "No need for that." Kenow said. "I'd like to try something else if I
may, something that may free us further."
     "Certainly, if you think it will help."
     "I know it will help me." panted Kenow and he moved on me again. His
hand replaced his mouth and he moved around so that he was kneeling between
my legs. My hand was riding along and when he pressed his manhood below my
testicles, I realized what he wanted. "Is this what you intend, to
penetrate me below?" I asked, just to be sure.
     "We must try everything, to see what will set us free." Kenow panted,
but I don't think anything would have stopped him and I didn't resist. His
cock touched my anus and my hand fell away, free again, and now we were
only bound by this slightest of contact. I feared that for a moment he
might try to tear himself free, but Kenow was more in thrall to his passion
than to any magic, and he pushed into me.
     I thought there would be more pain than there was, perhaps the magic
was making my bowels more receptive, the friction that such an invader
would normally ignite was absent. I only felt filled and as he reached his
maximum penetration and began to move in me, I felt only pleasure.
     I'd just climaxed, so the joy his fucking of my ass gave me was a
gentler thing than it would have been at some other time. I held him to me
and his large, strong body made me feel secure and safe. I no longer felt
trapped by this odd magic that held us together, I wanted this joining to
last me forever and ever!
     Kenow fucked me for nearly ten minutes until his body tensed,
stiffened, and he raised up his head and shoulders, shoved his prong deep
into me, arcing his back and lifted back his head and howled out his
rapture. I felt the rush of hot jizz rushing into me and I shivered in a
strangely ephemeral but very satisfying sort of phantom orgasm of my own,
as if Kenow's joy was being transmitted into me.
     Our bodies were joined, we held each other and he put his hand into
mine and we gripped and when he did that, the magic shifted all at once,
Kenow's spent prong dropped out of me and we were bound at our hands alone
once more.
     "It seems we can adjust our bond to our liking, but cannot release
it." Kenow said. "I suppose we must go to the Guildmaster and plead our
plight to him after all."
     The Guildmaster had to be shown in detail the situation and we ended
with our hands again at each other's stomachs, our bodies bare to the
waist, before he was satisfied. His strongest men could not wrench us apart
and in that position, he didn't think we were pretending.
     I had thought he would advance us money to let us hire a magician, but
his response was stronger than that, he banished us from the Guild,
returning our journeyman's fee we'd paid upon joining, but nothing more
than that. We were forced to find work that we could do sitting side by
side, for the magic would let us free our hands if we remained touching in
some other way. We now work for a weaver, together working a loom that
creates rugs, and Kenow's strength makes the task easy and allows me to
concentrate upon the design to be woven in. The master we work for is
well-pleased with the rugs we create and they sell well enough that we will
soon be journeymen once again and can open a shop of our own.
     And nights, we use our "sticky fingers" to pleasure each other in many
amazing ways. I can give Kenow the kind of massage that nobody else can to
ease his work-worn muscles, and he can stimulate me in ways that others can
only dream of.
     One day we will again meet up with that magician that cast the spell
upon us. And when we do, I can't speak for Kenow, but I plan to give him my
most heartfelt thanks and invite him to our next Feastday meal as an
honored guest.
                             THE END
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