PZA Boy Stories

William Rush

The Travels of Antosh Teshna

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Part I


This is a story about a naive teenager's journey in the lands of Aertha. From his adventures with a young a dancer boy in Sammal to a quick and sudden lesson in slavery, this truly is a story about a boy becoming a man.
first chapters publ. orig. at Mr. Double; this site Oct 2009-Oct 2010
Finished 65,000 words (130 pages)


Paval (21) Antosh Teshna (19yo), Urel (13yo), Kolt (8yo), and in part III also Rorke (11), Oren (9), and Lellend (7)

Category & Story codes

Boy prostitution & slave stories
Mb Tbcons nc oral analprost


The content and opinions expressed in this story are not necessarily the personal view of the story's author and not necessarily those of anyone responsible for this archive or website.

This story contains depictions of sexually explicit erotic acts. In some cases these acts may be of a homosexual nature, if this is illegal where you are at, please stop reading now.

This story depicts simulated sexual acts between adults and minors. If this type of material is offensive to you, then stop reading now. By reading further you declare or affirm that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to read this material, furthermore you declare that you will not hold the author and the archive or website publishing this story liable for any damages incurred from reading this story.

The author grants permission for this work and all his other works to be reposted on any site as long as the site does not charge for membership and as long as it is legal to post the story on that site and that there is no illegal intent when posting the story. If a site charges membership, permission must be granted prior to allowing the story to be published. The author retains all rights to the story and permission to publish this story does not alter or transfer those rights.

I also want to make my normal speech now. This is a work of fiction and as such, should be treated as that. I do not endorse anything that happens in this story, nor do I encourage anyone to participate in any activities like this. This is fantasy. If you feel that you are in danger of molesting or harming a child, then you should seek immediate psychiatric help. Remember in most countries there's nothing illegal about having those thought, but if you act on them that's an entirely different matter. Any similarities to real people or places, is completely coincidental.

This story is a work of fiction.

Author's note

Copyright © 2009, William Rush. ALL Rights Reserved

Thank you for taking the time to send feedback to the author through this feedback form with William Rush - The Travels of Antosh Teshna in the subject line.


I have written three stories based within a fantasy setting that I believe deserves a bit more exploration, or at least I'd like to explore it more. The following are descriptions of those lands that have been visited in the setting previously, as well as those lands that have not been visited in depth.

This world does not really exist, it's just a product of the imagination, and as such, please remember that anything that happens in that land, should remain in that land. The story is written in the voice of a man from one of those stories, but he is a fictional character, so nothing he says has actually happened. It is a story. When the character says 'I', he is speaking as a fictional character, so anything he speaks about is fictional. I am not this character anymore than I am Rebecca from Rebecca and Thomas, or any of the other characters that appear in my stories. I am most certainly not nineteen, nor do I wish to be nineteen again. I also do not have a nine and a half inch penis. The only difference between this story and my others is that it is a narrative and written from a first person perspective. With that said, this story takes place several years before the other three stories I have already written. So in a way this is a history lesson of those lands as well as a travelogue.

This story is my longest so far and this is actually my first novella. I did not intend for sex to be the main theme of this story, but there is sex present. If you really don't want to read the story, I'm sure if you search with a key word, you'll find where those scenes your interested in start. It is my hope that you'll read this story and the other three related to this one (Into the Valley, The Apprentice, and The Slaves of Deretheclick here for those stories) in their entirety, if you do not, that's fine too. I sincerely hope you enjoy this tale and treat it as it's meant to be treated, a fictional story. This particular version of the story was written for those sites with a homosexual bent. With that in mind the heterosexual scenes have been replaced with homosexual ones.

Chapter 1

There is something about me that is different from my brothers. They were happy to settle into the lives of shopkeepers and farmers, but I, well I sought more from life. Perhaps I was struck with a curse of wanderlust, however I would like to think that it was my inability to settle, that caused me to live the life I have. But I digress, this really isn't so much a story about my life, so much as it is a story of this immense world that I have had the good fortune of living in. There are many worlds out there, or so the magi have told me, but none quite like this.

My journey began in my 19th year, my father had passed that fall and his home and all that belonged to him was divided between his three eldest sons, as was the law. Only the house and those immediate belongings that could not be disputed, were left with my mother, my father's second wife. To be true and honest, my mother was not a sister of Aleyeth, not by any stretch, but neither was she a witch. I believe her to be as kind as any mother could be capable of, loving and cruel, as most people can be. She accepted my brothers as her own, called them her sons, and never mentioned to anyone that they were not. If only my brothers were as accepting of her, perhaps her life would not have been as trying after my father's passing.

As I said, I have three brothers, all of them still alive and healthy, to the best of my knowledge. The oldest is Valder, eight years my senior, after him there is Tinder, two years his junior, and then Alden, two years Tinder's junior. Each them has the customary light blonde hair and blue eyes, common of most Lithlellans, I however, took after my mother, and have dark black hair, green eyes, and pale skin, the traits of the 'southern' Lithlellan.

To continue, our father passed when Valder had reached his 27th year. Each of my brothers had taken a wife, and had already presented grandchildren to him, though I remained single. My father was a wealthy man by Lithlellan standards, having owned a successful shop that dealt in curios from far off lands.

I worked in my father's shop from the young age of 10 years until his passing, when it was decided that it should be sold and the proceeds divided between my brothers, for none of them could agree on who it should pass to. We had each spent our time imprisoned in it's lonely walls, waiting for the chime of the door to open, occasionally sweeping or sorting out merchandise as it was needed, however none spent as much time in the shop as I did.

Even at the age of ten I had a keen eye for numbers and business, something my father recognized immediately. It was naught but a year after I started working in the shop that he sent my brothers off to be apprenticed, and kept me to help him with the duties of the day to day business. My father was a fine man, but a hard taskmaster. In his eyes compassion was a weakness when it came to business, and unless his sons were successful, then they would surely die at a young age, without coin or the warmth of a wife, so everything he did was done as an act of kindness, although at the time I did not see it as such. I am certain that his cruelty led to my own success as a innkeeper later on, even if, perhaps, my wares would not be to his approval.

As again I have digressed, allow me to get to the point, after my father's passing, I was a young man without a job and without a home, too proud to live off my mother's meager inheritance, so with the impulsiveness of youth, I decided to take a job with the Royal Crown's Expeditionary League and travel. The job was a simple matter of exploration and cataloging. As I had a considerable deal of experience with curios and foreign commodities, I was well suited for the position. It allowed me a decent purse for a boy my age and allowed me to escape my home, where I had become an imposition.

Forgive me, I realize now that I have not told you my name. I am Antosh Teshna, the son of Ridol Teshna, perhaps you have heard of me? No, well it is not surprising. I have done very little to earn a reputation, aside from being Lithlellan. This has been to my advantage though. It has allowed me a life that would've been impossible to attain had I stayed within the confines of my mother's house. You see, as I write this I am a wealthy man, owner of a festhall in the finest city in the nation of Vinter, but as you know that wasn't always so, and as I presume you know, Vinter is a great distance from Lithlell, and the distance between those lands is the impetus of my story.

The man that I would call master, in only the business sense, and only because he required it, was named Jordach Teshna and he was the overseer of the Crowns Expeditionary League. (To avoid confusion, Teshna is a common Lithlellan surname, it's literal translation from old Lithlellan is Blacksmith.) Master Teshna, was not a kind man, but rather the opposite of the kind of person you would wish to work under. Master Teshna had decided that I should undertake the cruelest of travels, an expedition to the land of Suth. Suth was indeed not the kind of land anyone of middle blood, as I was, would entertain visiting. In fact, it was it's remoteness, that had led to the gradual downturn in commerce between that land and the land of Lithlell.

Suth was a land of barbarians, or so the tutors had taught me. They were uncouth and violent, perhaps even cannibals. They lived in the highest peaks of the mountains, raiding their neighbor's villages and pillaging all that could be found. They took small boys in the night and did unspeakable things to them. It was most assuredly a land of the lost and misbegotten and, unfortunately, it would be the place that I would have to visit in the name of the crown, to ascertain whether or not there was any coin to be made.

I, of course, was taught by my father that there was always coin to be made, regardless of whether the man holding the coin was a rich man or a barbarian. The trick was to separate the coin from the man, to understand the man enough, that it became an easy task to convince them that what you had to offer was something that they needed and wanted. So with this knowledge I left one morning with a horse and two mules and thirty pinches of gold dust in my pocket to pay for goods in lands with no currency, and 10 royal coins for lands that would accept them.

I said my goodbyes to my mother, who was distraught, as any mother would be, to see her youngest leaving. My brothers gave me a civil fairwell, the only one even remotely moved by my departure being Tinder. He took me aside and gave me a knife he had crafted especially for me.

"The world is not always what we'd like it to be Antosh," he said in a stern voice. "Sometimes a knife is all we have to keep the wolves at bay, so when you hear them baying, here is good knife to hold in your hand."

I thanked him, and despite customs, we embraced. When we finished, he held me by the shoulders and looked at me, nodded, and then joined my other brothers. I could see the worry in his eyes. Perhaps my departure was the spark his soul needed, in order for him to realize that he had not been a decent brother. I came to believe that the knife he gave me was his way of making amends for all he did not do. However, I'll never know, for that was the last I would ever see of my family.

My journey began in the capital of Lithlell, Quellen. The city is quite a spectacle, and I mean that in the literal sense. A Lithlellan is taught that he is of superior stock to all others, even if he is a pauper, if simply because he has been born from the ancient seed of the heroes of Athes, Lord of the lands.

Yes, the streets in Lithlell are paved with bricks, but the finest streets are paved with marble, upon which no carriage can travel. The buildings are kept fresh and clean, washed and painted annually, any left lacking are fined by the Court.

The Lithlellan people, although a bit self absorbed, which I will be the first to admit, are quite willing to appreciate the beauty of creation, in particular the arts. So it is not uncommon to see statues and fountains adorning the streets, a sign of the skilled artisans that work within the land.

From any place in Quellen you can see the Palace, the home of the King, who rules in name only. The actual rulers of the land are the Priests of Athes and Aleyeth, Lord and Lady of the land. It is the bishops and archbishop that decide the law of the land, and although they understand the need for leniency in some things, they are still strict in others. In fact it is this very tendency that has led to the sexual repression most Lithlellans live with. For even though the cities of Lithlellan are beautiful, at times even sensual, the open expression of sex is looked down upon.

Yes there are brothels and festhalls, but you will not find them in any of the middle districts, and you most certainly will not find them openly advertising their wares, for although the businesses are tolerated, it is still a sin to give in to the urges of the flesh, unless those urges are carried out in the chamber of one's bedroom with one's wife. Anyone caught soliciting another for sex outside of one of those businesses, whether the customer or the prostitute, would certainly spend time in the dungeons.

Even then in most cases you will not see any respectable Lithlellan entering a brothel, and very few will enter a festhall, for fear of tarnishing their reputation. Everyone knows what happens in those places; the men and women, even boys and girls, that tend to the prurient desires of men. Perhaps even more despicable, in the eyes of the pious, is the fact that the people who serve in those places are not forced to, no, rather they do so out of necessity, and thus, of their own free will, or as free as it can be.

This faith, of which all Lithlellans are taught at a young age by the priests of the Temples, is one of piety and modesty. I was no different, so in my leaving the lands of Lithlell I had no idea that these principles were not held universal by virtuous men.

You may ask, why do you speak of this as if it is still so, hasn't it been many years since you have walked in those lands? Well the fact is, nothing changes in Lithlell, at least nothing that doesn't take years or decade, and in the matter of sex, nothing changes at all. The methods may change, but the attitude will always remain the same, at least with the oligarchy.

So the land I left many years ago is still the same today as it was then. I know by the words of those who have been there, and from the rumors that persist. The Archbishop may have passed, but another, with the same agenda, has assuredly taken his place.

I could go into detail about the villages of Lithlell, but suffice it to say, they are just smaller versions of the capital. The only difference is that the only street paved in marble is the one leading to the Temple. I should know, I went through a great deal of Lithlellan villages before I reached the border with Sammal and it is there that a distinction between piety and irreverence arose, for Sammal is a land of passion, as I was soon to find out.

Chapter 2

When I reached the border of Lithlellan, the streets were no longer paved, rather they were mere trails of dirt, wide trails, but trails nonetheless. A small brook was all that marked the distinction between the two lands. On the Sammal side I found a small camp set up with one building made of wood, nothing more than simple a flap of calfskin hung for a door. From inside I could hear the sound of child, most likely a boy making grunting sounds. A soldier stopped me and asked for my papers. I handed them to him and he read the decree I carried with great care.

"I pity you boy," the soldier said. "It is a long way to Suth and not a pleasant trip in the least. May Athes guide you, for you will most certainly need guidance."

At that moment the child inside let out a high pitched squeal, one that I would grow accustomed to later in life, but at that time was ignorant of.

"Will you keep that boy quiet!" The soldier hollered.

"Sorry captain," a voice hollered back. "He's not used to this kind of treatment."

"He'll survive," another more sinister voice said.

"It hurts," the boy said, with obvious pain in his voice.

"Your papers are in order," the captain said. "You should be on your way. Be careful out there now."

"I will," I said, preparing to leave, then knowing in good conscience I could not leave the boy without at least asking. "Is the boy alright?"

The captain looked at me,"why do you want a know?"

"Well it would not be respectful for me to leave if there was something I might do to aid the lad in his suffering," I replied.

"Oh," the captain said, reassured by my answer. "No need to worry, the boy's suffering will end. His treatment will take just a bit longer, then he'll have plenty of time to rest."

"Are you sure?" I asked, with uncertainty in my voice.

"Trust me," the captain said, an unsettling smile crossing his lips as he slapped my horse's hindquarters to get me going.

I looked back, not so innocent, worried for that child. I remembered that day for quite awhile but I would not admit to myself exactly the kind of treatment the boy was undertaking. Perhaps it was a good thing that I did not admit this, for at the time I might have acted rash, and even if I carried a royal decree, there were certain things a good soldier would not suffer.

The lands of Lithlell are well cultivated. When you travel through the country, you will see open fields, farms, and manors dotting the countryside. The poor tend to the fields, the wealthy sit on their verandas watching them toil. I would learn only after leaving my homeland how debauched the privileged and the oligarchy are. How the priests were made up of men that could not actually live according to the laws they set. Those men attracted to other men, or even boys. Those men who's lust overwhelm them or have the desire to control others, they are the men who become the pious or the holy arm of the land. It is an irony lost on me, how the ones exacting the vengeance of the Gods can often times be so like the ones they exact vengeance on. The only difference being the methodology.

Sammal is not Lithlell. The lands may look the same, but the countries are not. Sammal is ruled by a parliament and a Caesar. I would learn my first lessons about Lithlell in this land, lessons I would carry with me to this day.

The first village I entered had no real name, it was simply called Hexel's Crossroads. There were two streets running through the village, one north to south, and one east to west. I traveled on the road leading west. The first person I came upon was a young Sammish boy, no older than twelve years in age. He had a thin face, and long dark blond hair hanging down to his shoulders. His teeth were white, and he had light brown eyes. I also noticed that he wore very little clothing and for a moment I thought he was homeless. When he walked towards me, the wrap he was wearing came down a bit and I couldn't help but catch site of his young soft prick, causing me to blush a bit.

"Hello lad," I said, averting my eyes. "Do you know if there is a place to rest close by?"

The boy laughed, "I can answer your question for a Sintel."

"A Sintel for an answer," I said, looking at the boy as he pulled his wrap up and tightened it. "It's merely a question."

"Yes and I have the answer," the boy said as a matter of fact.

"Well I will not pay for an answer," I said, quite perturbed with the small boy. "I can find a place to rest myself."

The boy frowned, "Well perhaps I have other things I could sell you."

"I am most certain you do not," I replied, looking at the pale waif, realizing now that he was perhaps a year or two younger than I thought, merely a bit tall for his age.

"Come now," the boy said. "You must be lonely, especially if you came from Lithlell. I could give you some company and show you a nice place to camp."

I was naive, but not so naive that I did not understand the boy's meaning. I will be frank with you, at that time I had still not been with a woman, and being such, I was not as confident with women as I would one day become. To be offered the opportunity to know this boy in that way was quite tempting, in fact for a boy of nineteen years, it was nearly overwhelming.

"I appreciate the offer," I replied to the boy, stuttering a bit. "But I must be on my way."

The boy laughed at me,"What you don't like sex? Do you want a girl instead?"

"Watch your mouth you little twit," I said. "I can obviously see I have mis-spoken, you are clearly not a lad but rather a lady."

"Shove a rock up your arse," the boy said, spitting at me. "I didn't want to keep you company anyway. Not with those pox scars."

"Hmm," I replied. "I see you speaking, but I can't hear the words coming from your mouth."

"A pox on you," the boy shouted, reaching down to grab a stick.

"Now! Now!" I said. "No need to be violent."

"Too good for me are you?" He said approaching me with the stick.

"Put that down," I heard someone say from behind me.

I turned to find a man in armor made of sewn leather walking towards me, carrying a spear, a sword hanging at his side. He had the more common light brown hair most Sammish had. He also had brown eyes and tanned skin, obviously having spent time outdoors. It looked as if he was inspecting me.

"What's going on here?" The man asked.

"I was just talking to him and he told me I was ugly," the boy said in an angry voice.

"He's lying," I replied, frustrated that I was being thrust into such drama.

"I most certainly am not," the boy said.

"He offered to have sex with me and I declined," I said, quite certain that the man I was speaking with would be as appalled as I was.

"Is that so," he said, pausing for a moment, looking at the two of us. "I must say, Rummel may not be as beautiful as your Lithlellan boys, but he isn't so hard on the eyes. You'll be pressed to find another boy as talented as him, at least around these parts."

I was speechless. Was this guard encouraging me to go off with this boy? Did he not see how un-excusably wrong that was? I looked at him, not knowing what to say, just watching him as he came up and stood next to me.

"Do you not like boys," he asked, in almost a whisper.

"I most certainly do like boys," I said, a bit upset at the connotation. "Just not in that way."

"I understand if you don't," he said. "I've been known to appreciate a bowl more than the candle myself…"

"I am not interested in a bowl," I said outraged. "And I'm not interested in him! I just want to find a place to camp and rest for the night!"

"My! My!" The man said, a smile on his face. "Rummel, I do believe we are amongst the faithful."

"Do not mock me," I said, watching as he bowed before me. "I'm just not interested in that sort of thing. Maybe in the morning…"

"In the morning you will unpack your camp and wander off," he said. "Upset that you finally had a chance to feel what sex was like, and yet did not follow through."

"I don't think I care for what you are inferring," I said, glaring at the man.

"Inferring?" The man said, staring up at me, the smile leaving his lips. "Lad, let me give you a piece of advice, if you speak to many other men like that, they'll be less kind than I, I'm most certain. I tell you what, I'll help you find a place to camp, but only if you promise not to speak to anyone else in the village. I don't want any more problems. Agreed?"

I continued to glare at him, watching as he tapped his finger on his sword absentmindedly. I wanted to jump down from the horse and take off my riding glove and smack the man across the face, as the gentlemen did in the stories my mother had told me, instead I just nodded.

"Fine," I said.

That first night outside Lithlellan should have been uneventful, but it was my first lesson in what the Sammish were really like. As you grow up, in almost every land, if you hear anything remotely promiscuous, it seems to always involve the Sammish. 'You're as horny as a Sammish whore' or 'you can't trust that man around a boy, he's got Sammish blood in him'. None of these are actually true, rather they are gross misrepresentations of a rich culture that has no shame in the joys that the body has to offer.

A Sammish boy will not sleep with just anyone, even a whore. If you are ugly or have a mean disposition, they will shy from you, just as any other boy inclined in that way would. However if a Sammish boy finds you attractive, or kind for that matter, they'll be more than happy to allow you to have your way with them, as long as that way allows them some pleasure as well.

In Sammish society, sex was, well sex. It wasn't sacred nor was it confined to the bed chambers. There were no laws deciding where one was to have sex, except that one should not just have sex anywhere, a modicum of decency was expected. So if you were out walking and happened to find a couple having a good time, it was not appropriate to offer to join them, nor was it appropriate to watch. With that being said, there are occassions when someone may act lewdly in front of you, when that occurs, most often it is an attempt to embarrass you, or a way of flaunting something they believe you want, that they have.

Another difference between Sammish society and Lithlellan society was less pronounced, the presence of slaves. I would later come to understand that Lithlellan society had slaves, they just called them servants and gave them a few coins to keep them happy. Sammish society hid under no guise, the slaves were slaves. They were punished for disobedience, expected to obey their masters, and treated as their masters saw fit, within limits. One could not, for instance, cut off their slaves finger or foot, just because they felt like it, however one could tie their slaves up and have their way with them for as long as they wanted.

The boy at the border station was most likely a slave, for those were the only young boys who normally had sex in Sammal. Free children were safe from that kind of treatment, for as long as they declined the advances of men (or women). The boy that approached me, Rummel, wasn't necessarily a slave, for it was not completely uncommon for a boy or girl of ten or eleven to become interested in those things or to start to earn money in that way.

As I said, Sammal was not Lithlell. A fact not lost on the two countries. In the past forty years there had been three wars between the two nations, with claims that it was for one thing or another, but in all honesty it was always about the Gods. The Sammish do not follow Athes and Aleyeth alone, rather they follow a pantheon that includes Athes and Aleyeth, but not exclusively. Lithlellans believe that there are no other gods other than the Lord and Lady and to even mention so is a crime. Inevitably a war is started and one side fights the other in the name of virtue and all that's good, continuing until one side or the other is tired or has gotten what they wanted. Then for several years peace is called and the two lands live as brothers and sisters should. It has never been decided which country is the brother or which one is the sister, but it is quite obvious that there is some incest involved, for in the end both sides get fucked, to put it bluntly.

Chapter 3

It was on that first night in Sammal that I began to learn about these differences, as well as the necessity of having some form of cover to protect you from the weather. You see, before the moon even came out, it began to rain, soaking everything in my pack and me. I, somewhat afraid of the man with the spear I'd spoken to earlier, stayed at my camp and refused to move. I was there for a half hour before Rummel came out.

"Come," He said, holding a wicker basket above his head. "My mother has made a bed for you. She would not have you sleeping in the rain, because of me."

I was hesitant to move, remembering that this boy had tried to seduce me, and also believing maybe his mother was as well, and who knew how old his mother was for that matter.

"Do you like sleeping in the rain?" Rummel hollered as the downpour increased.

I stared at him for a bit then answered, "No, but this doesn't mean you can have your way with me."

"Trust me," Rummel said, laughing. "I don't want you in any way."

I took my horse and mules to the small barn in town and paid the boy there a few Sinthel to put them up for the night, then followed Rummel to his home. Rummel's home was near the outskirts of the village, very near where I met him. It was a building made of hardened mud, it's walls shaped and smoothed out, til they formed a decent structure. It had several windows and a wooden door, an obvious matter of pride for the young boy.

"This is my home," He said, grabbing the latch and opening the door, ushering me through.

As I stepped into the only room of the house I finally saw Rummel's mother. She was not old by any means, in fact she looked to be only a few years older than I. I wondered how young she must have been when she had Rummel. She too had dark blond hair and brown eyes, and like Rummel her face was thin. Unlike Rummel, she had breasts and hips, and all those other things that I like in women, and still do. She wore a thin dress, that barely hid the outline of her body and clearly showed the points of her breast.

"You're both soak and wet," his mother exclaimed. "Take those wet clothes off."

I was a bit shocked at her request and did nothing, but Rummel did just as he was told. In short order he had dropped the short wrap he was wearing to the ground, standing completely naked and wet in front of me. He trembled a bit and wrapped his arms around himself, as cold children will. I had no doubt then that Rummel was still a child, his sex was bald without even the slightest hair. He had smooth tan skin, without a single tan line, and his chest prominently displayed his small pale nipples. His blond hair, also wet, hung down in strands. I could not take my eyes off of him, even though I knew I should.

"Come now," his mother said, as she approached me and started to unclasp my tunic. "You must have seen a naked boy before."

"Not in a long time," I said without thinking.

"You jest," Rummel said.

I looked at the boy as he stood there brazenly exposing himself to me, now moving his fingers up and down the length of his hard little penis. He was obviously trying to tease me.

"Nay," I said, still unable to pry my eyes away. "It has been many years since I saw a boy in the flesh,"

The water had formed beads on his body and the thought of running my tongue across it just to taste his skin, suddenly entered my mind. I looked at his stiff little rod, the skin pulled taught over its head. It was just short of four knuckles long. I wondered how hard it would feel in my hand. I wanted so much to reach out and squeeze it.

"Well have a good look," Rummel's mother said, as she pulled my tunic off of me. "Who knows when you'll see another in Lithlell."

"Thank you m'lady," I said, still staring at her son.

"I'm guessing you're sorry you didn't take him up on his offer earlier," the mother said, as she lowered my trousers to the ground, exposing my half hardened manhood to both of them.

I might not have mentioned, but I am large. I know in many stories, the person telling the tale is 'large', but I am large. In fact I was larger than my oldest brother when I was merely twelve. I'm not positive as to why, because no one else in my family has my size, but my mother once told me it was from her side of the family. I guess it was the size of my manhood that caused Rummel's mother to reach out and take hold of it. All I know is that when she did, the greatest feeling of my life coursed through my body.

"By the gods," the mother said. "Can you believe this Rummel?"

"It's big mummy," Rummel said. "I doubt it could've gone in me."

"With a bit of work it might," his mother replied.

"Please m'lady," I said, reaching for her hand.

"Now, now," she said, as she knelt before me. "There's no doubt in my mind what your body desires, lets not deprive it of the simple joys we have to offer."

"Oh, no," I said, remembering a promise I had made my mother about Sammal and ladies. I felt Rummel's mother slowly snake her tongue out and lick the tip of my rod, pushing it into the piss hole.

"He's already leaking," she said, offering it to her son, who knelt beside his mother and took it in his mouth.

"Oh mother," I said.

"Don't call me mother," the mother said, believing I was talking to her. "That's nasty, call me Genna."

"I'm sorry Genna," I said.

"Do you even know what kind of tool you have here?" Genna asked, causing Rummel to let out a muffled giggle, his lips still wrapped around the head of my cock.

Indeed it was long, by royal calculations over a king's foot in length, so it must've been at least nine and a half knuckles by barbarian standards.

"This is wrong," I said, looking at the boy sucking me, but doing nothing to stop him.

"Trust me," Genna said to me as she stroked my balls. "You wont be his first, nor his last."

"By the gods," I said, even as I thought how there was no way I could push it into such a young boy.

"And," Genna said as I looked down at her young son, his lips wrapped around my cock. "You can come inside of him and not worry about getting him pregnant."

I groaned and submitted. Perhaps it was a stereotype to lose my virginity to a Sammish mother and child, but I was not going to deny them the pleasures of my body, just so long as I had the pleasure of theirs as well. I trembled at the feeling of the young boy's tongue rolling around the head of my cock, taking more and more inside. It took no more than one stroke in and out for it to happen.

I came quickly, prematurely, to be exact. The sensation of the boy's mouth too much for me to bare. Rummel did not even take it out as I felt explosion after explosion of bliss run through my body, into my cock and past his lips. The only spot of juice I saw, was a small dribble that clung from the tip of my rod to his chin when he finally drew away. It was white and slimy and he apparently loved the taste, as did hos mother, who sucked my cock into his mouth trying to get anything left inside.

"Don't worry," Genna said, I wasn't sure if it was to me or her son. "It'll be ready for another go soon."

She was right, for it barely softened at all. For a moment I was filled with guilt, but the sight of young Rummel, my seed still coating hos bottom lip and chin, drove that from my mind. I was led by my cock to the bed in the corner.

Genna pushed me down on my back and took me into her mouth as she ran her hands along my stomach and across my chest. She moaned, obviously enjoying it.

"You don't taste that bad," Rummel said, as he licked his lips and wiped his chin with the back of his hand.

"Thank you," was all I could think of saying as I watched his mother sucking me.

"Mummy can I put it inside me," Rummel asked.

"In time dear," Genna said, as she pulled my cock from her mouth and stroked it. "We have to get him hard again first."

"Mummy," Rummel said, wrapping his own smaller hand around it. "He's already hard. You just don't want to share."

"Alright," Genna said. "We have all night, if you want to have your turn now, that's fine, it just means he'll last longer when I get a go."

"Thank you mummy," Rummel said, obviously happy.

"But I think you'll need to go get the olive oil," Genna said. "He'll be a chore for that little ass of yours."

Rummel jumped off the bed and ran to a shelf to grab a carafe and carried it back to the bed.

"Here mummy," he said running back to the bed, handing it to his mother.

"Slow down," his mother said. "Or you'll hurt yourself dear."

I groaned as they coated my cock with the thin oil, rubbing their hands up and down it's length, ever so softly, grinning at me with evil little smiles each time they caused me to cry out.

Rummel's mother ended by pouring oil over her son's hole, then running a finger up inside of him, spreading the oil as good as she could.

"Will he fit," Rummel asked.

"We'll see," Genna said. "Either way it'll be sight to watch him try."

"Do I need the gag mummy?" Rummel asked.

"Do you think you'll be screaming, baby?" Genna asked him as she reached under the mattress, pulling out a thick piece of leather strap, with a buckle.

"Maybe mummy," Rummel asked. "I'd like the gag anyways mummy."

"I know dear," Genna said, stroking her son's hair as the little boy took the thickest part of the strap and rapped his mouth around it.

Rummel's mother buckled the strap tightly from behind, then grabbed the boy by the hair and pulled him up on top of me. I moved to stop her.

"He likes a bit of roughness," Genna said, pushing my hand away. "Trust me, he'll let us know if he doesn't like it."

I laid back again, unsure of the facts, but willing to allow it, if only because I wanted so much to come inside either of the two, mother or son.

Rummel's asshole was much smaller than the head of my dick, I could not even begin to understand how either of them believed I'd be able to get inside of him. Him mother looked at me and stroked my leg.

"Little boys stretch," she said. "Although I wouldn't suggest trying this with a virgin."

She guided my rod to Rummel's hole.

"Take it dear," Genna said. "If you don't take at least half, mummy will have to punish you."

Rummel whimpered, I'm not sure if it was because he had changed his mind, or whether he was just playing the part of the victim, but either way he let himself down on my cock.

It was so tight, I did not believe it would go inside, if I was even the slightest bit soft, I'm sure it would've bent me in half, but I wasn't soft, not a bit. I was nineteen and as hard as could be. So it did not take long before the head of my cock popped inside of the by, who cried out into his gag and immediately pulled off of me.

"Is it too big dear," Genna asked, still holding the base of my cock in her hand.

Rummel shook his head, his eyes obviously wet with tears. After taking a deep breath I felt him grunt as he began to push back on my cock again. It took less time for me to enter him, but as soon as I did I felt him try to pull off again, the only thing that kept it inside was his mother holding him in place.

"It's alright dear," she said. "You can do it. If you take it out again, you'll have to have him on top."

"I think it's too big," I said, feeling as if the blood was being squeezed from the tip of my cock.

"He's had one nearly this size," his mother said. "A Suthian mercenary, remember dear."

Rummel did not respond, rather he knelt bent over, the tip of my cock wedged in his hole, his eyes closed tightly, holding his breath, as he balanced there with his hands on my chest.

"Here," his mother said, grabbing my hands and placing them on the boy's waist.

I looked at the smooth hole stretched thin around my cock, it looked impossibly large inside of his small body. I moved just a bit to get a better look, this caused my cock to lurch up inside of him. Rummel cried out in to the gag.

"Slowly," his mother said. "He's too small for you to be pushing it all in at once."

I wanted to say, 'obviously', but instead I just nodded my head and grunted as I felt him push down again on my cock, pushing another half a knuckle inside of his impossibly tight boy hole.

"God," I said, holding on to his hips, feeling my cock gripped by the softest tightest thing I'd ever felt.

"Baby," Genna said. "I know you want to be on top, but I think you'll have to lay down and let him on top. You don't want to put more in, but we know he can fit more, don't we."

The young boy looked at his mother, tears in eyes, and nodded. I took my hands off his hips and felt my cock leave his body. I missed that feeling almost immediately.

"On your back dear," his mother said. "Like the Lithlellans do it. Seems only right for his first time."

Rummel looked at me, then rolled over onto his back. His mother moved to the opposite side of her son and grabbed his ankles, pulling the boy's legs back, exposing the boy's hole again.

"Do it," the mother said. "It'll hurt him, but don't stop unless I tell you to."

I couldn't believe she was asking me to do this. I crawled behind the boy and put my cock at the entrance to his dilated hole. It was now red and swollen. His penis was soft as it lay against his smooth stomach. For a moment a thought of spanking the boy came to mind, but I pushed that to the back of my head.

I leaned forward. The tip of my rod slid past the weakened barrier of his anus, into his soft warm tunnel. I moaned, continuing in until I couldn't go any further, the pleasure so great I did not even hear the muffled pleading of the gagged boy.

I looked down at the boy, his face red, tears coming from his eyes, he looked up at his mother, trying to say something, but unable to with the gag in his mouth. I felt the boy's hands push against my thighs, trying to keep me from going further inside, but it was a futile gesture. I was nineteen, and for the first time I was inside of a boy's warm hole. There was very little that would stop me now.

"He'll be done soon darling," his mother said, putting her hand over her son's gagged mouth. "You can scream if you have to honey."

He did. He closed his eyes and shrieked, as he tried to accept the fact that a cock nearly two knuckles wide was inside of him, a cock he had no control over, a cock that moved as deep as it wanted and as fast as it wanted. I could tell he was certainly never going to do this again, or at least I believed that to be true.

I moved into him deeper. It was lust that drove me. I slipped in more without even thinking, just doing. I felt the tip meet resistance then I pushed in a bit more, not wanting to stop, this caused his eyes to fly open, as he began to beat his small fists on my chest.

"That's as much as he can take," his mother said, putting her hand around my dick holding it in place, as she moved to the side of her son, leaving the boy's legs to wrap around my waist.

I looked down. About four knuckles were inside of the boy. His hole was stretched and red. It felt so hot and tight, squeezing me like a tight fist.

"He's going to ruin you," Genna said. "You're not going to meet a woman who's going to be that tight."

"I'm hurting him," I said, drawing back a little.

"Don't take it out," the mother said, increasing her grip on my cock. "He'll let you know if he wants it out."

"By the gods," I moaned, feeling my cock start to get sore from the incredible grip the boy's insides kept on me.

"Pull it out and then put it back in, just a bit," the mother said, guiding me in and out of her son with her hand. "Unbelievable."

Genna pulled and pushed me in and out of her son, and as she did the young boy started to whimper, gripping the blanket with his hands, looking down his body, trying so hard to see where we were joined.

I had no way of knowing that the boy was shuddering because he was caught in a place of pleasure and pain, or that the boy had learned to not only live there, but love that place. I could only see the tears and hear the strain of his young voice. His mother knew well what the boy was feeling. The Suthians started their boys young, but the Sammish started their children even younger. It seemed to be a national fetish for mothers. In almost every town you would find one selling their son or daughter out. Watching the men with them, helping men do whatever they wanted to them.

I lost my virginity to a wailing little boy with barely any balls to speak of. I think it damaged me in a way, that feeling, the look in the boys eyes as I pushed hard against him, releasing my cum inside, crying out as he arched his body, feeling the tip of my cock stretch his insides even further. He wailed as he started to come as well, his warm hole literally throbbing around my cock.

I filled him that day, sobbing and thrashing. He had come three times while I was inside of him. After I pulled out of him he could barely touch the lips of his stretched and dilated hole without whimpering. I could look inside of him and see the juices I had left there. See his face as his mother unbuckled the gag, my cock hanging inches from where it had been, leaking juices on to the bedding.

I fucked his mother that night and she was right, the boy had spoiled me. Each thrust into his mother, caused me to remember the tightness of her son. Rummel watched, curled up in the corner of the bed, his face hidden behind his knees, watching me, judging my character. I knew he was trying to decide whether I wanted to hurt him or just lost control. I'm not sure what he believed, all I know is that he woke me in the middle of the night and asked me to do it again. I did. He screamed that time too.

Chapter 4

Rummel ran beside me as I left town. I looked at the boy, dressed once more in his short wrap, his hair pulled back into a pony tail.

"Will you be coming back," he asked.

"Not for awhile," I said, the thought of jumping off the horse and taking the boy once more filling my mind.

"If you do," he said, looking up at me with a smile. "Will you stop and see us."

He paused, a blush coming over his face, "I know mother would like to see you again."

"When I'm back here," I said to him. "I will come and see you my little rose."

Rummel smiled and finally stopped running, obviously tired.

"Be careful," he hollered. "Don't stop for any lame men!"

It is a practice of bandits to have a man or child lay in the middle of the road, either acting as if they were injured, or the bandits actually injure them. Then the bandits will wait for someone to stop and help, depending on the circumstances, When someone does stop the bandits either rob them or beat them, whichever seems practical. I was told of this and other things before I left, while Master Teshna was instructing me on the basics of traveling abroad. Rummel reminded me of the troubles that the road may offer and I started to realize that perhaps not every town would have a Rummel or Genna waiting for me, perhaps I needed to be more cautious.

As I mentioned before, the differences between Sammal and Lithlell on the surface are barely noticeable. There are open fields, farms, and manor's in Sammal just as there are in Lithlell. There are also slaves, oftentimes wearing nothing more than a loincloth to cover them as they worked. Young slaves often wore no clothes. It was only when a slave matured that it was deemed respectable to dress them, and then it was usually only the most basic attire.

After leaving Hexel's Crossroad, I traveled until the late afternoon, passing through several more villages before reaching a town called Volone. Volone was made up of wooden buildings, with windows and doors, as you would find in most large cities in Lithlell. The surrounding countryside was predominately made up of vineyards and orchards. Apparently the town was known far and wide for it's grapes and olives, or at least that's what the sign nailed to a tree at the center of town proclaimed. I, of course, hadn't heard of the town, but then I never claimed to be a procurer of produce or wine, so it was quite possible for me never to have heard of this village.

As I rode through town, my two mules following behind, I drew the attention of many people. Perhaps it was my fair skin and uncommonly dark hair, but people seemed to follow me as I moved along the streets. I began to feel self conscious until a soldier, only a bit older than I, rode up and stopped me.

"Good day to you," he said. "Any news from the south?"

"I'm sorry, no," I said, looking at the man. "I traveled from the east."

"Oh," the soldier replied, looking me up and down. "There was a Kuthian raid south of here. It struck several villages. I was hoping you might have some news."

"Raid?" I said, having heard of them, but never actually understood that they really did go on.

"Yes," the soldier said, trotting beside me now. "They raided several villages south of here."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, honestly, unaware of what role Kuthians would play in my future.

"Well travel wisely lad," the soldier said. "A fine strapping lad like you would sell for a great deal to the Pithians."

I blushed, not appreciating the comment, but not saying anything in response, realizing it was less of an insult and more a matter of fact.

"Is there a place to put up my horses in town?" I asked.

"Just up this road," the soldier said. "There's an inn right beside it. I wouldn't suggest staying at the one across the street from the stable, it might be a bit much for you."

Again, I remained silent, not sure whether the soldier was being insulting or trying to offer me kindly advice.

"Well then," the soldier said. "May Athes guide your path."

"And you as well," I replied, nodding to the soldier.

I found the stable, a boy of about twelve or thirteen, stood at the trough, clothed in only a loincloth. The boy was obviously not Sammish, in fact he had the blonde hair and pale skin common of Lithlellans, it was the first time I saw one of my own people dressed in such little clothing outside of a swimming hole.

"Boy," I said, addressing the child as he bowed his head. "Is this the stable?"

"Yes, master," he said in return, causing me to be a bit taken back.

"Please," I said. "My name is Antosh, you may call me Antosh."

I watched as the boy chanced a glance at me, then quickly averted his eyes again.

"No, master," the boy said. "I'm not supposed to address anyone by their names. Would you like me to take your horse and mules master?"

"Why must you call me master," I said.

"Urel," a man said from inside the barn. "Are you misbehaving?"

"No master," the boy said, fear in his voice.

A fat Sammish man came outside of the barn. He wore no shirt, his stomach hung over his trousers. He had obviously been sweating.

"You better not be," he said, then looking at me asked. "How can I help you m'lord?"

"I'm just trying to find some shelter for my horses," I said, wondering if anyone in this establishment dressed decently.

"Well this is the place my boy," the fat man said. "I'm sorry about Urel, he's still a bit dull."

I looked at the boy, his bright blue eyes did indeed look dull, but not because of a lack of intelligence I was sure.

"I should whip him again," the man said. "It's the only thing these Lithlellan slaves understand."

"Do not speak ill of Lithlellans sir," I said, a flush of heat rising across my cheeks. "Perhaps it has less to do with his place of birth and more to do with your treatment, you fat sow."

"I meant no disrespect," the man said. "I did not realize you were from Lithlell, you don't…"

"What?" I asked. "Am I supposed to have blonde hair and blue eyes? Do you think every Lithlellan in the world looks like that?"

"Please sire," the man said, trying to calm me. "Let me take your horse and if you'd like you can take Urel for the night, he's in need of a rest I think."

"Well that's very generous of you," I said, appreciating the man's change in tone.

"Do not mention it sire," the man said. "'Tis almost time to close for regular business anyways. My other boy can handle anyone passing through. Urel is a good boy. He can show you around town. I'm sure you'll enjoy his company."

I looked at the boy, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his eyes never meeting my own.

"Could he clean up first," I said, looking at the dirt covering the lad's hands and feet.

"Certainly," the man said. "I'll send him across the way then once he's washed."

"I was told to stay at the inn next door," I replied, remembering what the soldier had recommended.

"Oh," the fat man said. "They wouldn't care for the boy being inside there. Fancy place that is. Across the way is better if you wish for the boy to help you."

"Then across the way it is," I said, a bit proud of how I handled the situation.

I got down from my horse and grabbed the small pack that held an extra set of clothes, perfumes and soap, looking forward to cleaning up myself.

As I got close to the inn across the way, I saw a sign that said in bold letters, 'The Port in the Storm'. I thought that a clever name for an inn in a landlocked country.

As I entered the place, I nodded to a patron sitting by the door. A young dark haired Sammish lad sat on his leg, his penis sticking out hard as a nail as the man fondled it. The boy looked up at me with sad eyes, he couldn't have been more than ten years of age.

"Good day," the man said as I looked at him, obviously shocked at his behavior.

"The keeper is at the bar," he said, looking me up and down. "He can fix you up, or maybe you're looking for work?"

"Thank you," I said, quickly turning away from the debauched scene.

"Hello lad," an old man with thinning hair and a mustache said, in a cheerful voice from across the inn. "How can Bish help you?"

"Hello good sir," I said, as I approached the bar. "I was told I could find lodging here."

"For how long?" The man asked.

"The night," I answered taking a seat at the bar, thinking that was a strange question.

"Well, well," the man said, apparently surprised by my response. "That'll be ten sinthel."

"Ten sinthel?" I said, a bit shocked at the steep price.

"That's for the room and companionship," the man said, moving to the back of the bar, taking a key from a ring.

"I already have companionship," I said, suddenly realizing exactly what the fat man at the stable was talking about.

"Oh," the man said. "didn't see anyone with you. Would you care for a treat while you wait for him to arrive?"

I looked around the bar, in the corner I saw a man, his trousers around his ankles, in front of him a lad with brown hair, about twelve or thirteen years, knelt naked, his head bobbed up and down in the man's lap. In a table nearby, another lad, no more than seven or eight years, made short grunting sounds as he sat on the lap of a man old enough to be his great-grandfather.

"I'm sorry," I said, backing away. "I wasn't fully aware of what kind of establishment this was."

The man laughed, as did several of the patrons, even an older boy sitting on a bench by the door laughed.

"Didn't you read the sign?" Bish asked.

"Yes," I said. "I didn't…"

"You didn't get it?" The man said, his hands on his hips, trying to be polite and not laugh, as the men sitting at the tables snickered at my expense.

"Well then," Bish said, looking me up and down. "You might be more comfortable across the street, but you're still welcome to stay here. I'll let you have a room for five sinthar, since this is your first time in an establishment such as this."

"I'm not…," I started, only to hear a small voice behind me.

"I'm sorry it took so long master," young Urel said, as he entered the hall, his hair damp.

"Oh my," Bish said. "For someone new to this, you are quite a quick study."

"'Tis not what it appears," I said, a flush coming across my body.

"Are you blushing lad?" Bish asked.

"I must be going," I said, flustered.

I turned around and headed to the door, only to have Urel grab my hand suddenly.

"Please master," he said. "If I go back now, I'll be beaten."

"He's right lad," Bish said, sitting on a stool, a smile on his lips. "Don't be cruel to the lad."

"I must go," I said, looking around, trying not to take in the scene around me, unable to comprehend that some place like this might exist.

"Could you not just have a drink or two master," Urel asked, still holding on to my hand.

"No," I said. "I'm sorry boy. If you really must, you can come with me."

I left the inn door open, as I quickly departed the 'Port', still shocked, but realizing that I probably shouldn't have been. The boy, Urel, followed behind me.

"Where will you go master?" Urel asked.

"I'm not sure," I said, walking down the street, trying to ignore the stares of people, curious as to why I was in such a hurry, and why a young slave was following me.

I walked for awhile in silence, Urel dutifully following, a periodic hiss escaping him occasionally as he stepped on a sharp rock or burr.

"Can't you go play or something?" I asked, a bit annoyed that the boy was still there.

"No master," the boy said, still walking behind me.

"Then can't you just go back?" I asked, quickening my pace in an attempt to lose the boy.

"No master," the boy said, keeping up with me. "I'm to stay with you for the night. Master Farrell told me I couldn't come back until morning."

"Well I don't know where you'll stay," I said, stopping suddenly and turning towards the boy.

"I'm not staying at… at…" I said stuttering for a second, "At that place, and I'm sure the inn by the stable wont let you stay in my room."

"Please master," Urel begged. "You could stay at the 'Port'. I can do other things for you. I am quite good at giving a massage."

"By the gods," I said, not wanting to think about this boy giving massages, but also finding it slightly arousing, despite myself.

"Please master," Urel begged again, in a soft voice. "I promise I'll be good."

I let out a deep sigh, then turned to the boy, "Fine, I'll stay at the inn, but you can't sleep in the bed with me. I'll get you a blanket to sleep on the floor."

"Thank you master!" The boy nearly shouted, as I saw him smile for the first time since we'd met.

"You need not call me master," I said.

"I must master," Urel said, still smiling. "I must call every free man master and free woman mistress. It would be a great insult to you if I did not. It would be like me calling you a slave, which I'm not, master."

"Fine," I said, looking up at the sky, wondering if there would be rain again tonight, thinking perhaps I could camp outside of the town and take my chances with the Kuthians.

I walked around town with the young Lithlellan slave until it started to get too dark to see. Urel grabbed a lamp hanging from a pole, lit it and handed it to me. I realized I would have to go back to the inn soon or risk the guards asking me why I was about at night. Even though, according to Sammish society I had done nothing wrong, I couldn't help but feel like I was guilty of something.

It took me less than five minutes to return to the 'Port'. The doors were closed and the windows covered. I heard the din of a crowd from inside. I stood by the door for a minute arguing with myself in my mind as to whether I should enter the inn or go across the street. I was shook from my spiritual debate, by a man pushing by me, a boy, just a few years younger than I, following behind him, nearly naked.

"In for a Sinthir, in for a Dethel," I said out loud, following behind the couple in front of me.

Chapter 5

As I walked back in, a man patted me on the back, and laughed.

"Welcome back lad," he said to me, as he mussed up Urel's light blonde hair. "You wont be sorry."

"I intend to just sleep," I said, defiantly.

"Don't be such a sour puss," the man said as he made a gesture towards the rest of the festhall. "This is your chance to enjoy the finer things in life. You'll be sorry if you miss out."

"I appreciate the council," I said, trying to speak over the din of cheer and mirth that surrounded me.

"Think about it," he said. "Well my room is ready. I must be going."

I watched the man as he headed to the bar, Bish pushed a young brown haired Sammish boy towards the man. All the boys seemed much too young to be in a place like this, but that boy was particularly young, barely standing taller than the man's waist. The man took the boy's hand and guided him to the stairwell. The boy followed, apparently resigned to his task. As Bish watched the pair leave he saw me and smiled.

"So you're back," he said, in a cheerful voice.

My eyes followed the young boy up the stairs, as I nodded.

"Takes all types," he said. "A bit too young for my tastes, but his mother is a widow and they have no other way to make ends meet. Drops the poor lad off once a week."

"How can a mother sell her child?" I asked, forgetting for the moment about Rummel and Genna.

"Well," Bish said, grabbing a key from the wall and handing it to me. "It's either that or they don't eat."

"Poor fellow," I said, even as the sadness came over me, an image of the poor lad, naked, performing his duties, causing my cock to twitch.

"Yes indeed," Bish said, breaking the moment of silence. "Will you be having a drink before you go up? They'll be a show starting in a bit, you might find it entertaining."

"A show?" I asked, surprised.

"Indeed," he answered, then placing a key in my hand, he guided me to a table at the front of a wooden stage. The stage was barely more than king's foot or two off the ground. "Have a seat, enjoy. I'll have someone bring drinks to your table."

Urel pulled a chair out for me to sit in. As I sat, he pushed it back in. I looked around me, seeing boys and men doing acts I will not describe, feeling very alone and tired, but also looking forward to a show, having been so devoid of culture since leaving Quellen. I wondered if it would be a play, or perhaps a musical. It took only a few minutes for my answer to arrive.

As I watched two boys appeared on stage, one a few years younger than I and the other merely a lad of seven years at most. Both had dark hair and tanned complexions. Both also had almond colored eyes, I was sure they must be Anthelian, although I had only seen one other before this. The boys were naked and had no skin on the end of their penises, which was most shocking to me, having never seen anything like that before. They were slender and walked with a grace rarely seen in men or boys.

In the corner a woman, also Anthelian, sat on a stool with a harp between her legs, she began to play a slow melancholy tune as the boy's began to move slowly to the music. The older boy became aroused as he moved, his cock growing half hard and shifting from side to side as his movements quickened. The younger boy was already stiff, his small cock sticking up at an angle.

The two boys stepped in time, the older one behind the younger, the younger one suddenly arching backward as a high chord struck, flicking his tongue across the head of the older boy's penis. The crowd cheered. As the music quickened, the older boy picked the younger up in his arms, turning him upside down. The younger boy sucked the entire length of the older boy's cock into his mouth, while his partner held him close to his body. The older boy, with a look of passion on his face, leaned his head toward his young partner and took the tip of the younger boy's cock in his mouth.

As the crowd clapped, they quickly turned away from the crowd, the younger one was flipped up into the air and then caught by the older. The older boy, still holding the younger, moved from one side of the stage to the other, then turned back towards the crowd, this time the younger boy impaled on the older's rod. Even though the older boy had an average rod, barely six knuckles long, it looked large as it shifted in and out of the boy with each movement.

The younger boys face bore a slight frown as he concentrated, holding his arms straight out, his legs wrapped around the older boy, who stood still now, the only movement being the sudden thrusts of his hips as he sent his cock in and out of the younger boy.

The crowd was alive now, shouting encouragement and lewd comments at the couple as the older boy had his way with the younger. The young lad's tanned skin was glistening with sweat, his forehead covered in beads of moisture. The older brother, who seemed to be doing most of the work in the performance suddenly lifted the smaller boy off of him and stood him in front of the stage, where the boy suddenly kneeled facing the crowd, the older boy clapped twice and then pointed at a table, the man at the table shook his head, shouting something I couldn't hear.

Then the young teen looked to the man's right and stopped when he saw me. He smiled and pointed to me, gesturing for me to come up. I shook my head profusely. Suddenly the younger boy made gestures, like he was saddened by my response, acting like he was wiping tears from his eyes, before I knew it several men, laughing and drunk, grabbed me and pulled me out of my chair towards the stage. The young boy smiled as he licked his lips sensually, watching me get closer.

The men held me by my arms as I stood standing in front of the small boy. With experienced hands the boy reached forward and loosened my trousers before I could do anything to stop him.

As my cock came into a view, hoots and whistles filled the bar. Crude comments were made as the patrons saw the size of my manhood. I looked down to see the young boy holding it in his hand, even half hard he couldn't wrap his fist around it.

"Suck it!" One man yelled, as I struggled to free myself from the men's clutches, mortified at the position I found myself in.

The boy apparently heard the man. I watched as the lad leaned forward and wrapped his wet lips around the tip of my cock. I bucked, intending to escape the boy's clutches, but instead I sent my cock to the back of the boy's throat, causing him to gag. He did not, however, take my cock out, instead, he sat their without moving, even as I struggled to free myself from his probing tongue.

I stared down at the boy, my cock fully erect, bloated, stretching the lads lips, his brown eyes staring up at me. I knew it was wrong. I felt as if I was going to die, but I felt it, that feeling in my balls. I knew what was going to happen and I struggled, trying to get the boy to stop, but in the end the boy followed my cock dutifully and I only ended up thrusting it in and out of the boy's throat again and again.

He looked up, eye's watering, accepting my abuse, even as I reached the point of no return and allowed myself to thrust into the boy's mouth, feeling the pleasure he was causing to erupt inside me. My seed boiled and I felt flush as suddenly it shot out, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. The boy, ever the performer, gulped down the first blast, then pulled my cock out of his mouth and stroked it in his small fists, smiling as the rest of my seed landed on his tanned face.

The crowd ate it up as well, in a different way. The size of my cock compared to the boy, was a sight to see. The deluge of cum that coated the boy's face brought the crowd almost to frenzy. As I finished another man, of average dimensions approached the lad, who was still smiling, despite the large amount of cum that coated his eyes and cheeks. The man pointed his cock towards the boy and groaned, I watched standing less than a foot away as he came, in thick spurts across the boy's face as well.

Before I was released four more men came up to the stage to paint the boy's face with their juices. His face was glazed with so much fluid, he could not even open his eyes. I did not know what to do when I was finally free, so I swung wildly at one of the men who had held me but missing, resulting in the crowd laughing at my displeasure.

I rushed from the stage, even as I heard the boy grunt as a man crawled behind him and entered his young ass. Other men joined the boy on stage and took turns with him and his brother, filling both of the lads holes. As I closed the door to my room, I heard the crowd suddenly let out a cheer. I covered my ears and sat down on my bed, feeling my sensitive cock head rub against my trousers. There was a frantic knock at the door, that shook me from my self imposed stupor.

"Master!" Urel shouted. "Master! Please let me in."

"Go away!" I said in an angry voice.

"Please master," the boy said. "I'm sorry master."

"Go away Urel," I shouted, not wanting to speak to anyone.

"Please master," the boy shouted. "Let me in. I'll be quiet."

"By the gods," I shouted, walking to the door, releasing the latch.

Urel stepped in, a sad look on his face. He remained standing just inside the door as he watched me walk back to the bed.

"It was mean of them master," the boy said. "They had no right to do that to you."

"Urel," I said. "Please don't speak of it."

"I can get the boy master," Urel said. "I'm sure master Bish will let us bring him to the room. We could punish him."

"I don't want to punish the boy!" I shouted, as an image popped into my head of the boy kneeling in front of me, my cock once again pumping cream across his cute little round face smiling up at me.

I knew if the boy was in the room, I might not be able to control myself with him right now, not with the anger that boiled inside of me. I might do more than punish him, I might try to force myself in another hole, just to hear the boy beg me to stop.

I looked at Urel standing there, his slim body, pale and smooth. I looked at the boy's pretty face, saw his rosy cheeks and bright red lips and for a moment wondered how they would feel wrapped around my cock.

I looked at him and thought he looked very much like a girl. I knew, even though I had come, that I still wanted to come again, I still wanted to feel something warm wrapped around my cock. the anger that filled me left and was replaced with a passion I did not know I had. "Come here Urel," I said, leaning back on my elbows, looking at him.

The boy approached me, knowing full well what I was thinking. Without saying a thing, he knelt down in front of me and reached for the top of my trousers. He looked up at me. I lifted my hips off the ground, as his hands pulling my trousers down. Urel watched as my cock slowly appeared, still soft, but slowly growing. He wrapped his hands around it.

"It's very big master," he said.

I remained silent, believing that if I did not command him to do anything, then he was doing it of his own free will. Urel leaned forward and took the head of my cock inside of his mouth. I groaned at the warmth. He looked at me, with his beautiful blue eyes and perfectly smooth skin.

"Do you suck the fat man?" I asked.

He said nothing, just looked at me as he nodded in response, never taking my cock from his mouth.

"You like sucking him don't you?" I teased.

He said nothing, just fluttered his eyes as he kept the head of my cock in his mouth, sucking on it like it was a piece of candy, as it hardened.

"Does he do other things with you?" I asked him shifting back on the bed, pulling free of his mouth.

"Sometimes," he said, a smile on his lips.

"What kind of things does he do?" I asked, as he played along with game, crawling across the bed towards me.

"Some days he makes me throw a blanket over the bales of hay," he said, almost in a whisper. "And then he'll put it in me."

"Does he put it in your mouth?" I asked my hand stroking his hair, watching him, just inches from my cock, looking at me.

"No," he said. "My other hole."

"Does he kiss you?" I asked.

"No," he said. "Do you want to kiss me master?"

"I'm not sure," I said looking at him. "Where have those beautiful lips been?"

"I can't tell you," he said, crawling up next to me, his face just inches from my own.

I put my hand behind his head and pulled his lips to my lips. He opened his mouth and kissed me, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I groaned as I reached down and fumbled for the cord that held his loincloth on.

"You're so naughty," I said, pulling away for a second looking at his deep blue eyes, staring into my own eyes. "You want me to touch you don't you?"

"Please," he said.

"Please what," I said.

"Please master," he said.

I pulled his mouth back to my own and kissed him closing my eyes as I savored the taste of his lips and his tongue, pushing my own tongue into his mouth, moaning as we wrestled on the bed, his small body, next to my own. My tongue stroking along the length of his lips, then pushing against his own tongue.

The cord to his loincloth came undone and I reached down, fumbling for his own boyhood. It was slender and short, barely over four inches long, the skin sliding down allowing to run my thumb over the sensitive head. I could feel a few wisps of soft blond hair at the base, almost invisible.

His cock was hard and I wanted so much to taste it, to run my mouth along it's length, to watch him as I made his body feel those things my own body was feeling. I smiled at him as I gently pushed him so he lay back. He instinctively pulled his legs up to his chest and out of the way, believing I was going to do something else.

"Not yet my little rose," I said, stroking his legs and pulling them back down.

I looked at his cock, so close to my face, smooth and pale. My fingers ran along its length, stroking the soft skin. A small drop of fluid formed at the tip, a sign that the boy had juices for me to taste.

"You're so beautiful," I said. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

The boy shrugged, looking down at me, his hair hanging down past his shoulders, his eyes watching me as I stuck out my tongue and ran the tip along the underside of his shaft. I watched as his eyes narrowed to little slits and he hunched forward, his head hung back as he lifted his hips towards me, asking, without words, for more.

A whimper escaped his lips as I playfully nipped the sensitive tip of his cock with my teeth, not knowing exactly what to do to make this exciting for the boy. I did not want this to be just another encounter, but rather an experience he would carry with him, long after I left.

His hands held my head as I again playfully scraped my teeth along the length of his rod, feeling it pulse and throb against my teeth and lips.

"Please don't eat me master," he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

"You mean eat this?" I said, suddenly engulfing his penis, clenching the base with my teeth.

"Oh master," he said, hissing as he closed his eyes. "You're biting me."

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

"No master," he said. giggling. "Can I bite you too?"

"Of course boy," I said, with a smile. "But first I have to eat this little morsel."

I pushed his cock back in my mouth, moving it in and out as I sucked along the length, every once in awhile dragging my teeth along its length.

"Master," he said, as if he wanted to ask me a question.

"Yes, Urel?" I answered.

"When I was little and I sucked my master," he said. "I would get a spanking when I scraped my teeth on him. Can I spank you master?"

"Do you want to spank me?" I asked.

"Yes master," he said. "Then you must spank me for scraping my teeth as well."

I smiled looking at him as he smiled down at me.

"Do you want to spank me now little master?" I asked.

"Don't say that master," he said. "You mustn't call me that."

"Well you are," I said as I ran my hands along his stomach up to his chest. "This body is making me its slave."

He giggled, "You're silly master."

"Oh am I," I said, as I grabbed his sides, causing him to wiggle and laugh.

All around us were the distant sounds of cheering, groans and whimpers, but we didn't hear that, at least I didn't, rather I heard his breath as he looked at me, not with love, but with a playfulness that seemed so absent in his life. I let him free and crawled up beside him on my stomach.

"Well spank me," I said.

"But you're not done," he said with a crooked smile, his finger following along the length of my body.

"We have all night to play," I said. "You can spank me now, for all the naughty things I'll do to you later on."

He giggled as he shifted on the bed and knelt next to me.

"What will I spank you with master?" He asked.

"Why your hand," I said.

"Will you spank me with your hand," he asked, running his hands across the cheeks of my ass.

"Yes," I said, looking at him. "I'll spank you with my hand."

"Good," he said, as he brought his hand down hard against my ass.

It stung, I was surprised. He raised his hand again and brought it down. I flinched from the pain. I could not believe someone barely able to produce seed, could cause my ass to sting so. I stayed there though, allowing him his fun, as he continued to spank my ass. Spanking me in one place for a bit, then moving to another. He continued to hit me until his little hand hurt.

"I'm done master," he said.

"You've got quite an arm," I said, rubbing my ass with my hands.

He pushed my hands away and said with insistence, "No, you can't rub them master."

I smiled and rolled over and pulled him on top of me. He knelt on my chest, his penis inches from my mouth.

"Give it to me boy," I said, pulling him closer and wrapping my lips around his cock.

It had softened a little, but it took no time for it to stiffen again. I ran my tongue over the sensitive head, causing him to gasp. He thrust in and out of my mouth, groaning as I lifted him still in my mouth and laid him back on the bed, holding his hip in the air as I sucked him.

He hung there, abandoning his body to me. I watched as the first signs of pleasure washed over his face, a flush of red along his cheeks and forehead. A gasp and shudder, then the small taste of juices in my mouth, as they shot out, his cock throbbing and jerking against my lips.

He cried out, his eyes closed tightly, shaking in my gasp, almost looking like he was in pain, but not willing to stop what was happening. When he finished he pushed me away, too sensitive for me to continue. The head of his penis was red and shiny, a drop of his boy cum leaking from his small slit. I leaned down to get the final taste of his juices.

"Thank you master," he said.

"You're welcome," I said, smiling at the boy.

"Nobody does that to me," he said, still smiling. "Most of the time I just suck them or they put it in my behind."

"Well they don't know what they're missing," I said, tasting his salty sweet fluids in my mouth. "You taste like candy."

He giggled and smiled.

I turned over to expose my own cock, now hard and throbbing. He looked at it and crawled slowly towards it, stroking his hands softly over my stomach, then down towards my crotch, finally running his fingers through my pubic hair as he laid his head on my chest.

"You are so kind master," he said, almost as if I wasn't there. "I wish I was your slave."

"I wish I was your master," I said, stroking his hair as his hand grabbed the base of my cock tightly, holding it up straight so he could see the length.

"You're so big," he said. "I've never seen one as big as yours."

"I know," I said. "It's so big because it wants you to play with it."

"Does it?" he asked in a soft voice, as he ran his fist along it's length.

Clear fluid dripped from the slit. Urel ran his finger over the top smearing it until the head was shiny.

"It's crying master," he said. "It's sad it wont have me to play with when it leaves."

I smiled, stroking the boy's hair, running my hands along his smooth back, feeling the fine hairs that covered his body.

"I know a way you can make it happy," I said, whispering to him.

"How master?" He asked.

"You can kiss it," I said.

He lifted his head to look at me and smiled.

"Will that make you happy master?" He asked.

"Yes," I said. "That will make me very happy." He lifted his head off my chest and moved down to where my cock stood, still grasped in his hand. He looked at it for a moment and then, without thinking, kissed it. He looked at me smiling. I moaned as I saw a string of fluid cling to his lips from my cock.

"You're so naughty," I said.

"You like me being naughty," He said, kissing my cock again.

I ran my hand across his ass as I felt his tongue push into my slit, tasting more of my precum. He watched me as he gently ran his tongue all over the head, then gave my cock another gentle kiss.

"Is it happy yet master?" He asked. "It's getting there," I said. "Show it how much you want to make it happy."

He smiled at me as he pulled my legs apart and knelt between them so he was facing me. I watched as he licked along the underside, then rolled his tongue around the crown. He watched me as he wrapped his lips around the very end of my cock and slowly put the head inside of his mouth.

"By the gods," I said, looking at the twinkle in his eyes, as he brought me pleasure.

He knew I was his slave in that moment, that his mouth was what I wanted more than anything. He looked at me, never taking his eyes from my face as he continued to suck me, moving more and more of my cock into his mouth.

His cheeks bulged every time he pushed me into his mouth. For a second I saw Rummel, then the little boy downstairs, then I saw this boy. The one that was giving me so much of himself.

The other times were lust, plain and simple, this was not just lust, it was tender and soft. It seemed to survive and thrive with each bit of pleasure we gave each other. In my heart I knew the boy was happy, maybe happy for the first time in a long time and I smiled at him.

He giggled, never taking my cock from his mouth as he started to push it in and out slowly.

"I'd love to put it somewhere else," I said.

He looked at me, still sucking, I understood he was nervous, it was quite big.

"We can go slow," I said. "And it will make it very happy."

He continued to suck me, thinking hard about what I was saying.

"I promise I wont hurt you," I said.

He removed my cock from his mouth and looked at me, then in a soft voice said, "You promise?"

"Yes," I said. "Just tell me to stop and I will."

"If it pleases you, I will master," he said, slowly crawling off the bed and walking over to a table to grab a small pot, he watched me as he walked back and climbed back onto the bed to kneel beside me again.

"Are you sure," I asked, seeing the worry in his face as he tilted the pot and let a thin stream of oil drip down on my cock.

"I'm sure," he said.

"You're such a good boy," I said.

"No," he said. "You're just horny master."

I laughed, which caused him to laugh.

"Can I sit on it master?" He asked.

"Sure," I said, knowing that he wanted to be on top so he could control how fast it went inside.

"It'll hurt when it goes in," he said, reminding himself, more than telling me what I was sure of. "Do you want to hurt me?"

"No," I said. "But I do want to fuck you."

He smiled, and ran his hands along the length of my cock coating it in oil. He turned his bottom to me, showing me the hole I wanted to enter. I looked at it closely for the first time. I could tell the boy wasn't a virgin, his hole was brown and seemed already to be winking at me. I put my finger in the pot of oil and then ran it around the outside of his anus.

"Will you stretch me good master?" He asked.

"Yes," I said, watching as his bottom accepted my finger.

The boy continued to stroke my cock, slowly up and down with his hands. I pushed my finger in and out of his hole, watching as the lips of his ass clung to it, pulled out, then pushed back in. When I added a second finger, he shifted for a second, getting used to the intrusion. I noticed he had no problem accepting them, but his ass still clung to my fingers tightly. I could not wait to feel those same walls around my cock. Urel moaned as it throbbed in his hand, dribbling more precum.

"You think it'll fit," he asked.

"We'll see," I said, as I pulled my fingers out, watching his hole stay open for a second, then slowly returned to its previous state. "I think you're ready." Urel turned around and crouched over my cock, gripping it in his hand as he knelt down. I watched as he moved it up and down his crack until it found his hole.

"Here goes," he said, looking at me as he slowly sat down.

He was still too tight for my cock to just go in, he lost his grip and it slipped up along his perineum, bumping his small nuts. He drew himself back up and tried again, this time, the helmet gained purchase as it pushed in, stretching his hole slowly. He added more weight as he looked at me with a pained expression, perhaps hoping I'd call a stop to it.

"Slow," I said.

"Oh, it's big," he said, feeling the head stretch his hole wide.

The boy had never had anything that big inside of him, his master was only six knuckles long and not very wide. He might've been longer if he lost weight, this cock was nearly twice as wide and much, much longer.

"Is it in?" he asked, trying to look down to see.

"It's in," I said, watching as the last part of the head slipped past his sphincter.

"It's so big," he said, shaking as he tried to balance above me.

"By the god's you're tight," I said, for the third time in two nights feeling as if the blood was being forced out of my cock.

"How much is in master?" He asked in a high pitch voice.

"Just the head," I said.

"I don't know if I can take it all master," he said. "Not without it hurting bad."

"Well," I said. "Just take as much as you can."

"I'm not sure how much more will fit," he said.

I put my hands on his hips, slowly pulling him down on to my cock. He whimpered as a half inch pushed inside of him, stretching his anal muscles. He was so tight, I could almost feel his heart beat around my cock.

"Please master," he said, putting a hand on my wrist.

"Just a bit more," I said, ignoring his pleas, as I pulled him down ever further on my cock.

At least three knuckles were inside him. He trembled, as his anus fluttered, trying to stretch to allow me entry.

"Here," I said, lifting him off of me and changed positions. "Kneel down."

I looked at his his hole, it was open now and dilated, I coated my fingers in oil and pushed them inside as far as I could. He looked over his shoulder watching me.

"You said I could sit on it master," he said.

"I know," I said. "But this will be easier for you."

"Please don't hurt me," he begged.

"I'll go slow," I said, stroking my hand down his back. "I'll be as gentle as I can."

"Thank you master," he said, as he rested his head against his forearms, resigning himself to this indignity.

I removed my fingers from the boy's ass and dipped them once again in oil, then coated the bloated head and shaft of my cock thoroughly. I moved forward, pressing the tip against his anus, then forced my way inside. The boy hissed, obviously in pain.

"Sorry," I said. "It's in though."

"Slow master," the boy reminded me.

"I'll go slow," I said, pushing another inch inside of him, eliciting another whimper.

"Ow," he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," I said, slowing pushing inside of him, stopping when I met resistance again.

The boy trembled beneath me, his back arched as he tried to find a more comfortable position to accept my cock, but I knew that there was no position I could enter this boy without it hurting, at least until his hole stretched. I slowly pushed more and more inside of the boy, each time he would beg me to stop, then tell me I could go.

At the end, he had taken all but two knuckles inside of him. He had not cried, nor had he howled or begged me to take it out, rather he had allowed me the joy of his hole.

"You feel so good wrapped around me," I said, putting my hands under his chest to pull him to me.

"You're so big master," he said, turning to look at me.

"I know," I said. "And you're such a naughty boy to let me put this inside of you."

He smiled at me and then pouted.

"My master may not want me anymore after you've stretched me out so," he said, giggling.

I laughed, moving a bit more inside of him on accident.

"Ow! Ow!" He said. "Don't go any deeper please, just fuck me master."

"Alright, Urel," I said as I pulled my cock away from him, feeling his insides drag along it's length, then pushed it back in feeling them try to resist its entry again.

The boy groaned as I began to move inside of him. I watched as he knelt before me his head once again on his forearms, his body trembling, accepting my cock as it moved inside of him.

I could feel the pleasure building inside of me and knew his suffering would be over soon. Without thinking, just feeling, I pushed back in, pushing a bit deeper, eliciting a hiss from the boy, as he felt me stretch him just a bit more.

I was thrusting in and out at a deliberate pace, enjoying the sensation, placing a hand on the small of the boy's back to steady him.

"Just a little longer," I said. "You're making me feel so good."

"Faster master," the boy said, wanting the fucking to be over.

I pushed into him deeper once more, his head shot back, and whimpered, my pace increased and I felt my seed rise as my balls tightened. I had gotten all but an inch into the boy, and as I came I pushed the last inch in, bottoming out, causing the boy to cry out and grip the bedding in his fists. My seed splashed inside of him, I kept my cock there, pulling him as far as I could on to it.

"By the Gods," I shouted, as my cock continued to throb in the boy's bowels, spilling out more seed than I'd ever produced so far.

I held the boy to me as the feeling left me, my cock began to soften inside of him.

"That was so good," I said. "Thank you Urel."

"You're really big master," the boy said as my cock finally slid out of his ass, along with a dribble of cum.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It just felt so good."

The boy moved around and took my cock in his mouth, not saying a word. I had no way of knowing that this was part of his duty, to clean me with his lips and tongue, I just watched as he licked every drop of oil and fluid from my cock.

Even then it would not stir, I was exhausted. I'm sure Urel was very happy to hear that. When I woke the next morning, Urel was gone and I had an erection. I shifted in my bed, to find the small dark haired boy that had sucked me on the stage the night before standing by the bed, naked, watching me.

"The blond boy said you wanted to see me again," the boy said, smiling at me.

I rubbed my eyes and looked at him, his penis was soft and he seemed like such a happy child.

"He did, did he?" I said, sitting up in my bed. "Why do you think he would tell you that?"

"Do you not want me to help you this morning?" The boy asked.

"Shouldn't you be calling me master?" I asked.

"I'm not a slave, sire," The boy said.

"You're not?" I asked. "Then what are you?"

"I'm a dancer," the boy said, smiling.

"Hmm…well then, there is one thing I'd like to see you dance with," I said, pulling the covers off of me, exposing my cock.

"Do you wish me to suck it?" He asked.

"Yes and then I'd like to put it in your backside," I said smiling.

"I don't think it'd fit sire," he said.

"Well," I said, smiling. "There's no reason we can't try."

Chapter 6

The little dancer looked up at me, his knees pushed to his chest. I could see by the worried look on his face, that he would rather not have me inside of him. He was a prostitute though and I'm sure his mother was the one who sent him to me. He knew that he had to do everything he could to entertain me or suffer his mother's wrath.

My cock shined with oil, as did the boy's hole. It was winking at me, dilated from having my thick fingers stretch it out. As I placed the head against his hole, he instinctively held his breath.

Without a word, I grunted and pushed, the bulbous head of my cock pushing past the tiny hole, stretching it as I gained purchase and entered the lad's depth. The boy cried out and grimaced.

His hole was tighter than Urel's or Rummel, something I didn't think possible. I groaned, drowning out the sobs of the boy as he whimpered and tried to pull away from me. I smiled, the thought of last night in my mind. Perhaps the boy would not be so eager to suck a man without permission next time.

I did not have much patience with the lad. I knew he was not a virgin and I wanted to feel myself in his depths, so with a great push I slowly slid a good length of my cock in his hole, eliciting a loud wail from the boy, as he beat his small fists against my chest, trying to stop me.

When I looked down, I was nearly half way inside of him, I could feel the walls of ass as he trembled and sobbed. There were tears in his eyes and he looked at me with a mixture of fear and loathing.

"I'm sorry my little dancer," I said. "You're just so talented, I had to have all of you."

The boy pushed against me and frowned. I smiled down at him leaning forward to kiss him, but instead of returning the gesture, he bit my lip. I pulled away from him quickly, tasting the blood in my mouth.

Without thinking I thrust hard into the boy, causing him to howl. I started to fuck him with long deliberate strokes, not caring about his comfort or tears. I watched him as he squeezed his eyes crying out each time I thrust inside of him.

"Don't… you… dare… bite… me," I said, still feeling the sting on my lip, thrusting hard on each word.

The boy howled and shook beneath my assault. I had no pity left for him, at least not then. I wanted nothing more than to feel his body wrapped around mine as I released my cum inside of him.

And that's what I did, bending his legs back so that his ass was lifted well off the bed, I thrust the entire length of my cock inside of boy, bearing my weight down, as it throbbed inside of him, filling his hole with my cum. The boy let out a deep wail as I held him in place.

I looked down at the child, his cheeks stained with tears, sobbing. I pulled out and thrust once more.

"Don't ever bite me," I said in an angry voice as the boy squealed.

Chapter 7

I walked across the street to the stables. I was certain the little dancer boy was still laying in my bed recuperating. He had squealed and complained more than Urel, but remarkably, had accepted all of my cock. I suppose having to entertain a crowd of men each night prepares a boy for the unexpected.

The fat man was standing at the door to the stables, he had my horse and mules all ready. He waved to me and I waved back.

"I trust you had a good night," he said, smiling.

"Urel is a very good boy," I said.

"Yes," the fat man said. "He most certainly is."

"How much do I owe you?" I asked.

"Well that depends on what you want to take with you," The fat man replied.

"What do you mean?" I asked him, a little confused by his response.

"Well," he said. "As you probably know, the Caesar has ordered every able bodied Sammish to respond to the Kuthian raids by forming our own raiding parties."

"No," I said. "I wasn't aware of that."

Personally I thought that was the most moronic thing I had heard. Sending a bunch of untrained men across the border to raid villages and face a strong presence of skilled warriors, seemed to be absolute madness, but who was I to judge the Caesar, perhaps this was his way of ridding himself of some of his less intelligent subjects.

"Oh yes," the fat man said. "I myself wish I could join in the call, but as you can see, age has not been good to me."

Neither has the pork, I thought to myself.

"Well," he said. "I have been funding a band of mercenaries, but it is costing me a good deal of coin. I was wondering if, perhaps, you could use a servant boy?"

"A servant boy?" I asked.

"Urel," he said. "I would like to sell you the boy. He is older now and less desirable to the miscreants in this town, but you seem to have made a connection with the lad. He seemed quite different after spending the night with you."

"Did he now," I asked.

"Yes," he said. "You might think me the cruel taskmaster, but that really isn't the case. Yes I may yell and yes I may spend time with them, but there are very few ladies that care for a man of… My girth."

"I understand," I said.

"Well," he continued. "I shall sell you Urel for a pittance of what he is actually worth. You know his, shall we say, talents. He is an obedient boy and quite eager to please…"

"How much?" I asked, cutting him off.

"Twenty-five dethel," he said, looking at me. "It's more than fair."

"I cannot spare that much," I said. "I have a limited amount of coin to fund my own travels."

"Twenty then," he said. "And I'll throw in a bag of seed."

"What?" I asked.

"Seed," he said. "For the vineyards."

"What will I do with seed?" I asked.

"Well," he said. "They may not sell for much here, but if you're really going to Suth, they will sell for a great deal in the southern lands of Kuth."

"How do you know I'm going to Suth?" I asked, quite sure I'd never mentioned it to anyone in the town.

"This fell from one your bags," he said, handing me the Crown's proclamation.

"You took this from my bag," I said.

"No, sire," he said. "I truly did find it, but regardless, I guarantee you, that you will get more than your money back, from either the seed or the boy in the lands of Suth."

I wasn't completely sure that he didn't take it from my bag or for that matter how much slaves were worth, but I did know twenty dethel was enough to buy a fine stalion or two work horses.

"Fifteen dethel," I finally said, remembering what my father had taught me.

"You injure me, sire," he replied, pulling his hands to his chest. "But it seems only fair. From what I hear you have already ruined the boy for other men."

"What are you inferring?" I asked, not quite understanding his meaning.

"I was told you have a tool like a Suthian warhorse," he replied. "I'm sure everyone in town knows this after last nights performance."

I blanched, quite uncertain if that was the kind of reputation I wanted spread about my person.

"I meant no disrespect," He said.

"On second thought, I'm not sure it's safe for the boy," I said, wanting to change the subject, and also not sure how I would be able to explain this to my superiors at home.

"Well you needn't worry," he said. "The Kuths should leave you be, there is a treaty between Lithlell and the Emperor, after all, I doubt they'd bother a servant of the Crown."

"I suppose," I said, still not sure how I could justify buying a slave.

"Do you not wish the boy's freedom," he said, "to return the lad to his homeland?"

I looked at the man, understanding immediately that he was not as dim witted as I had first thought.

"Certainly," I said. "That would be the noble thing to do."

"And if you keep the boy warm at night," he said. "It is only out of kindness and to keep him from searching for less desirable purchase for his lusts."

"I agree," I said, taking out a Royal Crown. "Do you have change?"

"No," he said, "But the money changers will."

I left the town with Urel following beside me on a newly purchased pony. I had bought a tunic, hose, and shoes for the boy to wear, not wishing to travel the countryside with a near naked child. He seemed quite uncomfortable in clothes, having spent the last several years nearly naked. I would come to learn that the stable owner preferred boys without any hair below their neck and that was most likely that reason that he had sold the boy. Although in all honesty, I did purchase Urel for quite less than the market price. Perhaps he did wish to see the boy free and returned to his homeland, rather than spending his life in a mine or in the fields of the vineyards and orchards.

I'm certain the man would purchase another boy soon enough, young and beautiful, to fill the space of Urel. I would come to find out that he had bought Urel three years ago. The boy had been sold by his father, a great injustice to the boy, and a crime in Lithlell.

From what Urel told me, his father was a tanner who had fallen on hard times. He had taken the boy, under the guise of a hunting trip for deer, to Sammal. Instead, after he traveled a day or two from the border, he had met the stable master and sold his son for thirty dethel.

How anyone could sell their own child, would always be beyond my understanding, especially such a good child as Urel. I was certain that the boy's mother must have been quite the gentle soul to raise such a bright child as Urel and there was no doubt in my mind there was an emptiness in her heart, although I would never know for sure, it was a topic Urel refused to speak about and always moved the lad to melancholy.

We must have been quite the pair, two Lithlellans, with two mules and a bag of seed. Lithlellan's were not known to travel much, especially not with children. I instructed Urel to not say anything about being a slave. I also, later on, instructed him to not tell people we were brothers, for that only caused people to look at us strangely the next morning.

In the end, he became my apprentice and we would tell others that, I, although young, had taken the boy into my care, under the request of his uncle, to teach the lad a bit about the merchant business. If I taught him a few 'other' things, it was not uncommon, if perhaps a bit distasteful to some.

I was fond of Urel the first night I had met the boy. Not as a lover, so much as a kindred soul, someone who had also spent their lives imprisoned in a life that they had no desire to live, who had finally been freed, to some extent, and allowed to find their own destiny. After all, I was barely but a boy myself, what did I know about love? Lust I knew, but what of love?

Chapter 8

The further we got from the town of Volone, the more talkative Urel became. I instructed him to call me Antosh and not master, for he was no longer a slave, but rather my servant. He smiled, knowing that it was just a mere change in title, but one that would allow him a bit more leniency. At least he would not have to drop to his knees anytime a free man or woman commanded it.

As I mentioned before, Sammal was quite like Lithlell in many ways, especially the countryside near it's border, however as one moved further west and south, one soon reached the Tuth Mountains. This chain was not particularly high or, for that matter, hard to traverse, but it did mark the border of civility in many people's eyes. For Sammal, although often times driven to in retaliation, rarely raided other countries for slaves, rather they purchased them. On the other side of the mountains lived the Kuth, who were not so inclined.

The mountains were a natural border between the low country close to Kuth and the high country. Any raiders intent on entering Sammal, or Lithlell for that matter, would have to pass through the mountains, or face the Turesh to the east. The Turesh were master horsemen who were well known for their skills as archers and warriors, able to shoot an apple at thirty paces from horse back.

The Turesh also had slaves, but they did not earn them from raiding, rather their slaves were either orphans, those found trespassing in their lands, or taken in war. Of course you might say, well isn't taking a slave in war the same as raiding? Well in a sense perhaps, but the difference is that the Turesh did not go to war with the intention of taking slaves, that was most dishonorable to them. They also did not take slaves when they raided a village, in fact more than one story was told of Turesh coming upon Kuthians in the midst of raiding a village, only to attack the Kuthians and drive them off, freeing the villagers and then taking only what they needed.

The Turesh bore a distinct resemblance to the Kuthians, having red hair, pale skin, and broad frames, but they spoke a different dialects. Also the Turesh wore their hair long and often in braids. Kuthians often shaved their heads, or at the very least kept their hair short. They rarely allowed even their slaves to have long hair. A Kuthian woman or girl was expected to keep their hair at shoulder length, any longer and they would be considered promiscuous. Turesh woman never cut their hair. They allowed it to grow from the day they were born, until the day they passed from the earth. If a Turesh man or woman was found with short hair, it was either because they were taken as a slave, (which was rarely the case because they made poor slaves, often times choosing death before the dishonor of enslavement,) or a great tragedy had befallen them, such as the loss of a loved one or behaving cowardly in combat.

To say the Turesh and Kuthians did not get along would be like saying a tiger and a lion could be trusted alone in a pen, rarely was this the case, and often times one or the other would end up dead. So to keep the peace, or as much peace as was wanted between the two people, lines and borders were clearly drawn. The Kuthians rarely passed into the Turesh lands and the Turesh rarely passed to the Kuthians.

As far as cultures went, Kuthians were influenced more by their neighbors, having towns and villages. Turesh, however, were nomadic, moving from place to place, depending on the time of year. This was one reason why the Turesh tended to raid the Sammal only during the spring and the Lithlell only during the summer. The countries below Tur were rarely visited by Lithlellians or Sammal, for the Turesh were very territorial and anyone caught trespassing would either be enslaved or suffer the pain of death.

What was known of the southern lands is that there existed a race of tall slender people with pointed ears, that reportedly lived for centuries before passing. They possessed unfathomable skill as warriors and were masters of the arts of the spirit and nature. It was said that it was from an evil magi from this land that the warlocks of Kuth learned their infernal arts.

I had only met a few Kuthians in my lifetime, and each time my father had sent me away before I could hear much of what they had to say. As for Turesh, the only thing I knew of them was what I mentioned before, so I felt a great deal of trepidation as I grew closer to the mountains.

As I traveled in silence, listening to Urel talking about nearly anything that he might find to talk about, having finally been released from his imposed silence as a slave, I noticed that the dirt roads that passed through Sammal, were turning to mere tracks as we neared the mountains. The villagers living in sight of the mountains had learn to be untrusting of visitors, fearing they might be spies for the Kuthians. For several days I slept on the outskirts of villages, my brother's dagger free of it's sheath in my boot, held in my hand as I tried to sleep, fearing that perhaps a Kuthian was watching, waiting for me to fall to sleep, so they could grab me and have their way. It was amidst this paranoia that I left Sammal, crossed into the mountains, and entered into the dark lands of Kuth.

There are only a few passes that lead between Sammal and Kuth, the one I chose was traveled by merchants. I believed that I would suffer fewer indignities if I passed along that trail. I was grossly mistaken.

I managed to clear the mountains before I met my first Kuthian, he was leading a horse behind him, two large baskets hanging from the sides. As we neared each other he withdrew a sword from his scabbard, looking at me with a wicked smile.

"Ho there lad," he shouted as he slowed his horse to a trot. "What are your intentions?"

"I am merely passing through," I said. "On my way to Suth."

"Suth," he said. "It is a dangerous journey to Suth. It would be unwise of you to travel any further. Take my advice young one, You and your brother need to turn around and go the way you came. A party of raiders is camped not more than a league further. If they see you two, they will not be kind."

"I wish I could," I said to the man as he approached even closer. "But I am under a a royal decree to reach Suth. It would be unwise of me not to follow forth."

"Then you risk your life and that of the boy," he said. "Or at least your freedom and comfort."

"I will manage," I said. "We will leave the road and avoid this band you speak of."

"And what of the next one lad?" The man said, only a few feet from me now. "What will you do then."

I could see the man clearly now, he had his dark red hair shaved close to his scalp, he had a long goatie braided and hanging down several knuckles below his chin. He also had green eyes and along one cheek there was a scar running from his chin to just below his right eye. Over his shoulders was draped a cloak of fur. I could see he wore a leather coat, made more for protection from a swords cut, than for comfort. He was a large man, at least a king's foot taller than I, carrying a big sword, that he managed to handle with one hand with no difficulty. I knew, with great certainty, that if this came to blows, I would be dead.

"You need guards boy," the man said. "That takes money. I am going your way lad, and I'd be more than happy to help you on your travel, so long as you're willing to pay me for my service."

"You're merely one man," I said, "how can you protect me from a band of raiders?"

"True," he said looking at Urel, "it would not be a fair fight, but who's to say we will fight them?"

He looked me up and down and rest his sword across his saddle.

"I will guide you to Suth," he said. "But in guiding you, I expect a share of the profit."

"What profit?" I asked.

"The profit from the seed," he said, then leering at Urel added. "and the boy."

"The boy is not for sale," I said, slowly reaching for the knife in my boot.

"Stay your hand before you lose it," he said. "I am an honorable man, as long as I'm paid. You can do what you want with the boy. In truth you are in need of a strong arm and I possess one. You would be unwise not to accept my offer."

He made a show of swinging his sword high into the air and then sheathing it.

"And the boy?" I said, looking at a young dark haired lad, peaking out from a basket saddled to the horse behind the man. "That is," he paused, "my nephew. He has come along to keep me company."

"Of course," I said.

"Then it's settled," he said. "Fifty Dethels for my guidance to Suth."

"Fifty Dethels?" I said, actually quite shocked at the price.

"I could hire ten men to take me to Suth for that price," I said.

"Yes," he said, "you could. The difference is, I will get you there."

I looked at him, not sure whether or not to believe him. What I did believe was that he was a big man, with a big sword, and all I had was a knife and a general idea of where to go. As I was making up my mind, I heard horses in the distance.

"Quickly," he said. "Off the road."

I don't know why I followed his direction, but I did. He led us past the tree line, bringing us to a stop as the riders passed us. I could've hit them with a stone, if I'd wanted to.

"You will never make it without me," the Kuthian said. "I am not a slaver, but I am your only hope of reaching Suth a free man and alive."

I looked at him and nodded, "Fifty dethels then."

He spat in his hand and held it out towards, me. I did the same and we shook. The deal was set, if either of us wavered, the Gods certainly would punish us.

The lands of Kuth stretches to the west and south of Sammal, nearly to the border of Lithlell. You could fit both Sammal and Lithlell within it's borders. Kuth is made up of valleys and mountains. Some of the mountains possess the powers of the gods, spewing smoke and fire. It is in this land, amidst the trails, pine, and fir, that I passed.

The Kuthian man, sat silently on his horse. Urel was silent as well. He had tied the horse with his nephew to the mules, and then tied that off around the horn of Urel's saddle.

"If someone comes boy," he had said to Urel. "I will tell you what to do. For no reason will you disobey me, for if you do, your life and my nephew's life will be in jeapordy, not from my hand, but from those who might harm you. Do you understand?"

Urel nodded, a bit paler than usual. The man slapped the boy's thigh and smiled.

"You need to eat more, lad," he said, "you're skin and bones."

As night came upon us, I rode up beside the man, silent for a moment, I turned to him, but before I could say anything, he spoke.

"Corvin," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"That's what you were going to ask," he said. "What my name was?"

"Yes," I said, then added, "Antosh. Antosh Teshna."

"Good," he said. "We have the formalities out of the way. Now if either of us dies, we can at least pray properly to the gods. Right Urel?"

Urel just nodded. I looked at the boy, wondering when he had told the man his name, and how the man was able to coax it from the lad.

Corvin's nephew was named Tohm. He was just over seven winters old, as the barbarians are want to judge age, and not very talkative. In fact for a child, he seemed grim, even more so than some slave children I had met. He seemed quite happy to remain in his basket, only peeking out occasionally when he heard a strange sound.

I came to realize that he was not Corvin's nephew, simply by the way they spoke. He did not call him uncle, rather, man. And I mean that in the literal sense. He referred to all men as 'man' for that matter. It was strange, but I grew accustomed to it after a day or so.

It was while we had stopped in a valley, the second week of our travels through Kuth that the boy spoke to me directly for the first time. Connor had left to do his business. I was sitting on a log, facing the boy, he was customarily peaking at me from his basket, when his eyes suddenly got big.

"Man," he said, "behind you!"

I jumped to my feet and looked over my shoulder to find a Kuthian standing a few paces behind me, a club held high over his head. I dove to my left, just as the club crashed down to the ground. As I returned to my feet I pulled my knife from my boot and faced the man.

"Is that all you've got," he said, advancing upon me again.

He swung his club towards me and missed me merely by a knuckle or two. I was certain that I would die that day. I stepped back and the man followed, swinging his club and laughing. I prepared to lunge at the man, but before I could Urel jumped on the man's back.

The man's attention was drawn away from me and he stumbled around, trying to reach for the boy. He was a good distance away when he caught Urel by the back of his tunic and threw him hard onto the ground. I looked at Urel and saw that he was not moving.

"Urel," I called.

The man laughed at me then kicked Urel in the stomach. Urel did not make a sound. I was sure that he was dead. Fear and rage rushed through my veins and without thinking of the consequences I hurled my knife at the Kuthian, sinking the blade deep into the man's back. The man cried out and and stumbled away from me. I looked towards Urel, and saw that he was still laying motionless on the ground.

"You're dead now," he said, as he turned to me, blood running from the corner of his mouth.

I could tell he was weak now, my knife having done more damage than I thought it would. I moved keeping the man between Tohm and myself.

"You should run while you have the chance," I said, looking for anything I could use as a weapon, "Your wound is mortal."

"I will survive long enough to crush your skull," he said, "then my partners will tear your boys apart, they'll never walk straight again."

"And that one," he said looking at Tohm behind me. "I'll be sure to have his tongue torn from his mouth."

"I will not let that happen," I said.

"Neither will I," Corvin said as he thrust his sword into the man from behind.

The Kuthian crumpled to the ground. Corvin pulled his sword from the man then stabbed him again.

"See to the boys," he said as he pulled my knife from the Kuthian's back and tossed it to me. "There are others."

I looked at the blood dripping from the blade of my knife, feeling suddenly sick, not moving.

"The boys," he said, in a loud voice.

I nodded and ran over to Urel, who was starting to stir. I helped him up and led him to his horse, still tied to Tohm's horse.

"If I tell you to ride, you must ride," I said.

He nodded, holding his shoulder, his arm hanging limp at his side.

"He can't move his arm," I said, watching Corvin as he stuck his sword into the soft earth and pulled a bow from his saddle.

"Then get behind him and ride," he said, cocking an arrow and drawing back on the bow.

"Head down this trail," he said as he crouched down behind a tree, not bothering to look at me. "You'll come to a burnt tree, turn right and ride until you reach the river. Head south along the river 'til you come to a small wooden hovel. Tell the woman there that Corvin has sent you, she'll hide you if she must."

"Who is this woman?" I asked.

"My mother," Corvin replied.

"I can stay and help," I said.

"Go," he said, peering into the brush. "I have my horse, I will slow them down."

I hesitated, worried, wondering why we all didn't ride off, then an arrow whizzed past my head and sunk into a tree behind me.

Perhaps I was a coward for running, but to this day, I tell people I did what I did to keep the boy's safe. That to me, their lives were more important than my fighting to the death. To be true, though, I was scared. I had never fought before. I was young and I did not want to die, so I left Corvin to die. I thought for certain he would. There were three men advancing on him, two with bows drawn. I did not know how he could overcome those odds. My only prayer was that they did not hear the directions he gave me.

I followed Corvin's directions to the letter and did come upon the hovel. It was round and made of wooden poles leaned upon each other to a point, tanned leather thrown on top to keep out the elements.

"Hello," I hollered. "Is anyone home?"

A flap on the side of the hovel was pulled up and a woman stepped out, holding a knife in her hands. The woman was younger than Corvin by several years. She had long red hair, with two long braids hanging down in the front. She was very beautiful to look upon.

"Who are you," she asked, looking at me and then the boys.

"Corvin sent me," I said. "We were attacked in the woods by bandits."

"Hah," she said. "Bandits? More likely townsmen."

"There are three of them," I said. "I must go back and help them. Can you take the boys."

"Are you stupid?" the woman said. "You're in Kuth. Never leave a boy alone with anyone, nor a girl, nor an old lady for that matter."

"I must help Corvin," I said, looking back along the path I'd traveled.

"He'll be better off without you," she said, throwing her dagger so the blade stuck in the ground. "Come down from there and bring the boys."


I waited watching as the young woman tended to Urel. She would curse every once in awhile, at least I believed it to be cursing, for she spoke in some strange language I had never heard before.

"Will he be alright?" I asked.

"His arm," she said, stroking Urel's hair as she sat beside the sleeping boy. "Rather, the bone that attaches his arm to his shoulder, has come loose. I need to be sure we can put it back in without hurting him further."

"And what if the men come," I asked. "What good will all this be? I have not made it to Suth and I nearly killed poor Urel."

"Perhaps you should have joined the theater," the woman said. "You seem to know much about drama."

"Do not jest," I said, looking at Urel. "I could've taken him home or left him behind, but I brought him with me, merely to satisfy… I could've left him at home."

"Hah," the woman shouted, causing the boy to stir. "Do you think this boy would've stayed? He was more worried about you, than you were of him. Of the two, he is the survivor, believe me."

"And what of the young one," I said heading to the basket. "Come Tohm, come down from there."

I looked into the basket and could not see the boy.

"He's behind the bushes over there," the woman said, pointing by the river. "How Corvin could leave these boys to your care is more than I can fathom."

"There was no one else to leave them with," Corvin hollered, sitting on his horse, smiling.

"Man," Tohm shouted, suddenly bursting forth from the brush and running towards Corvin.

"I'm sorry," I said, as Corvin pulled Tohm up to sit in front of him.

"Sorry for what?" He asked.

"He feels he's betrayed you and left you die," the woman said.

"Betrayed me?" He laughed. "If you had stayed I might've died. I couldn't keep you and the boys safe."

"I could've fought with you?" I said, a flush of anger replacing shame.

"With that toothpick you carry in your boot?" He asked, laughing again.

"'Tis a knife, I'll have you know," I shouted. "And it was crafted for me by my brother!"

"Then do yourself and your brother a favor," he said, hopping down from the saddle. "Next time someone comes at you with a club, don't throw your only weapon at them."

That was the first time I saw violence in that form. It was the first time I saw a man dieing and the first time I realized that Corvin was more than he seemed. I also knew then, that fifty dethel was not much to pay for one's life.

We spent a few weeks at the hovel. Corvin took the men that had died attacking us to their wives. He also paid five dethels to each of their wives, or rather I did. He said it needed to be done or we would not find peace, for the families would most certainly seek vengeance. A payment would show that there was no dishonor in their death. I did not argue with him about that or anything else for as long as I traveled with him. It was an important lesson in humility.

Corvin always referred to the younger girl as Asha, which I called her too, causing her to smile. The day we headed out, I was happy to finally be free of the burden of Urel's wounds. He had healed fine, he could move his arm as well as before and unlike me, he had no shame in his heart. Even with the words spoken, that day always stayed with me, for I wondered if there was anything more I could've or should've done. I can still see Corvin, kneeling, bow drawn, ready to defend us with his life, and I can still feel how my heart felt as I ran.

The fear would not leave me for months. The sound of a branch cracking or a hawk's cry would remind me of that day. I would see the blood on my knife, and feel Urel leaning back against me, with barely any strength to hold himself up. What if Corvin had not been there? What if he had not forced me to take him on as a guard? What if my decision had caused others, not to just suffer, but to lose their lives? How soon we forget the great lessons in life. How soon we pass from gratitude to complacency.

I don't know how to say this, but something changed between Urel and I. At first, when we could, we would sneak off and he would please me and I would please him, but as time passed and especially after that day, those times became less frequent, not because of anything I'd done or he'd done, but because I didn't seem to see him in the same light. Certainly he was an attractive boy, but he really was no longer a boy, he was becoming a young man and for reasons beyond my comprehension, I was not attracted to young men, but to boys. He still held a dear place in my heart, to say otherwise would be a lie, and even though he had only matured a bit more, it was more than I could find entirely appealing. So it was not surprising to me to find Urel naked by the river, Corvin standing behind, naked also, his arms wrapped around the boy holding him close to him.

Towards the end of our days in Kuth, the desire to find pleasure in another's arms became nearly overwhelming, and when it did I would return to Urel, but only because there was no one else for me to find. No women, no girls, no boys, only Urel. I did a great disservice to the lad, but he never saw it as such, he took great pleasure in spending the little time we did together, but by the time we reached the border to Suth, I had stopped even turning to him for comfort.

I had thought of pursuing Tohm, but I did not know how Corvin would react and I did not want to test our friendship, for by then I would believe we were friends, so I stayed away from the boy as much as I could. It is a wise thing to do sometimes, avoid temptation, lest you give into its embrace. Oh, I did have Tohm on that trip several times, but only in my mind, and after all there was no harm in that.

Chapter 9

To say Suth lies at the end of Aertha is a lie. It truly lies at the roof of Aertha. The air is thin, for much of the year it is cold, and there are only a few green valleys to provide enough sustenance for its people to live. The Suthians are a hardy lot, well suited for their chosen home. I would come to know many Suthians and the one thing most of them had in common was that they lived and died by their word.

Suthians, Kuthians, and the Turesh are supposedly all of the same blood, the sons of Novare the Hunter, son of Athes and Aleyeth. Suthians however differ from their cousins in their desire for peace and quiet. War is not to their tastes. They desire only to give their village peace and their family love. Anything less is failure in their eyes. I would come to view Suthians as, perhaps, the most noble of all the societies in Aertha, but of course one fears what they do not know and I still did not know all of this about Suthians.

Entering Suth from Kuth is like leaving a house after you have been shut in for several months. You finally see the sun and feel the air, everything smells fresh and you feel alive. The mountains that sporadically run through Kuth, are the source of the Suthians lifeblood. They have taken it upon themselves to live where no other man would want to. They grow their own grapes, they raise their own sheep, and they have small farms built on shelves that dot the sides of the mountains. They are the masters of their domain.

It is said that if you left a Suthian alone on the top of a mountain, with only one sheep, you could still come back a month later and find him alive with a wool coat and a newborn ewe. It is a bit of a stretch, for Suthians do not sleep with their sheep. However Suthians do have another custom they are known for, and in some places it is this custom that has given them a sinister reputation.

Corvin was visibly relieved when we reached Suth, his attitude changed, he seemed more relaxed. He began to talk to me more. I found out for the first time that he was only half Kuthian, his mother had been Turesh. She was the slave of Corvin's father. Corvin's father had not cared much for his mother, so when his child was finally born, he attempted to sell the mother and keep the child for himself, of course Corvin's mother would have none of that and stole away in the night with the child.

Corvin's mother had made it back to her village when Corvin's father finally caught up with her. Corvin's uncle, Demetri, shot an arrow through his father's heart from 100 paces away. His father did not even have time to utter one curse. The party that had come to help him claim his child ran away as quick as rabbits.

Corvin was raised by his uncle and mother. Taught the ways of the Turesh and the ways of the Kuth. When Corvin finally became a man, his mother was forced to leave Tureth, because of the great disgrace she had committed by allowing herself to be enslaved.

Corvin unwilling to abandon his mother, shaved his head and went with her to Kuth. His mother was a strong witch. She, however, was a Tureth witch and dealt with nature spirits and not the infernal powers Kuth witches followed. As she cared for Corvin her powers became even stronger, to the point that when she finally left her village, she looked scarcely older than her son.

Corvin, having inherited the superstitions all Tureth have against witches, did not feel comfortable around his mother. His mother, knowing this, had commanded him to leave her camp, explaining that she had done everything she did for her son so that he could be free and not grow up to be enslaved as her guardian. She told her son to only come visit every fifth year, and then only if he wanted to see her.

He told me he loved his mother and that he was sad they had to leave her to her hovel by the river, but she could not leave that place anymore, lest the years she had hidden from caught up to her and forced her to age in one moment the age she should've been.

Of all the places Corvin traveled, he loved Suth more than any other, for the very reasons I had said before. He told me, now that he had brought me here, that he had planned on coming anyways. That Tohm was not his nephew, but the son of a great Suth warrior and that he brought the boy to Suth so that he could undergo the ritual of service. He would not explain exactly what that ritual was, nor did any sober Suth, but I did learn what it was eventually.

I traveled with Corvin to the only city the Suth had, it was merely a day or two from the Kuth border and it was really nothing more than a town by eastern standards. There was little timber in the valleys, the trees being small, and sparse, so the Suth chose to build their building from stone, using animal skins to cover their windows and doors. The building in the town were no different, only some were on a grander scale, with furs, rather the skins. The city also housed a marble quarry. The quarry provided marble to the farthest lands, at one time even to Lithlellan. If you asked a Suth the name of the city, they would merely call it the City, so that is the name I gave it.

The Suth have two lodges in every village and every town. Each is meant for women or men. In the one building only young boys, who had not undergone the ritual of service, and females were allowed. In the other, only boys who had undergone the ritual, and men were allowed. Within the confines of these lodges, certain things that would be taboo elsewhere were acceptable, as long as it was agreed upon that any man might be called upon to act in the same way if he was also put into the same spot, within certain limits.

These lodges also have places to sleep, so it was understandable that I mistook the lodge I was taken to for an inn. It was in this lodge that, while I was warming myself by a fireplace. a Suthian approached me with a young boy of seven or eight 'winters' (as the Suth say). The boy wore only a short kilt and sleeveless blouse. I could tell that he was very fit, and thoughts of certain things I might do to the boy to stave my desire came to mind. As I examined the boy more closely I found his long black hair and ruddy cheeks only served to stoke my lust. He was most definitely a cute lad, especially with his mischievous grin.

"Good evening," the man said, his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Good evening," I said, nodding to the man.

"My nephew Celden has told me that he would like to become," the man paused for a moment. "Acquainted with you."

"Acquainted?" I asked, admiring the man's forwardness, but wanting to be sure that the man and I were discussing the same topic.

"Aye," the man said, with a wide grin.

"Let me be sure what you're asking me," I said, knowing full well that Suth's often had relations with boys. "Are you offering your nephew to me, so that I might, ahem, spend time with him in a closer way?"

"Yes," the man said, pushing the boy towards me. "He's quite a talented lad."

"And you've experienced him?" I asked.

"By Novare no," he said. "Do not even jest about such a thing! No I know by the groans of men and watching him coax a man's seed from time to time."

"You've watched him?" I asked, a bit shocked.

"Well not out of lust," he said. "But there has been an occasion or two when I have been in the same room while he was performing his duties."

"I'm not sure I understand," I said. From what I had been told by Corvin, if a man touched his own blood, they were exiled from Suth.

"It is not uncommon for a man to be present when a young relative is entertaining a man," he said. "But only to ensure the child's safety and only if someone outside the family isn't able to."

"Of course," I said, thinking that was perhaps the weakest excuse I'd heard.

"He's undergone the ritual of service," he said. "I know he looks small for his age, but I guarantee that he can service you according to the customs."

"The customs?" I asked.

"Yes, the custom of Service," he said.

"What exactly is this custom of Service?" I asked the man, not completely understanding, since Corvin had declined to comment on it.

It was then that the man, named Thorvell, explained much of the Suthian customs to me. I learned that after a Suthian boy reaches the age of eight they were expected to undergo the Ritual of Service, also called the Ritual of Service to Men. During this Ritual, three men take the boy with two other boys that have already been through the ritual, and a young teenager, to the highest point of the valley with a flock of sheep. The teenager is expected to care for the boy undergoing the ritual, and the other boys are taken to slacken the lust of the men accompanying them.

Before the ritual begins, if no one can decide who should have relations with the boy the first time, each man is expected to throw bones to see who will have that privilege. The man who wins takes the boy that night, at the sacred camp that the holy men of the village have set up. Afterwards the boy is considered to be on the journey to manhood. It is customary for the other men to have their way with the boy as well, and the boy should not deny any man's lust during the ritual.

After the ritual the boy will continue to serve men until he produces seed. Even after that a boy can choose to be with a man, but once they reach the age of sixteen or seventeen winters, it is frowned upon, yet still done occasionally, but only discreetly.

Regardless, his nephew had gone into the valley less than a week ago. He had shown remarkable talent, but still had not been with a foreigner. The chance to be with such a fine looking, strapping young foreigner, did not come often, so the Uncle was hoping I might spend some time with Celden so that his first time with a foreigner would be something to remember.

After listening to the man speak of the ritual and also the reason why he was handing his nephew over to me, I stopped him.

"I must tell you something," I said.

"What?" He said. "Do you not care for boys? I saw you staring at the naked one in the corner, Hohn…"

"No! No! That's not it," I said as the boy stood next to me, his hand running up my leg feeling the length of my cock.

"He's bigger than Payter," the boy exclaimed, causing several men to look in my direction.

"That cannot be," the man said.

"Well that's what I was trying to explain," I said, wanting the boy, but not believing he could take me.

"Then this is a great honor," the man said. "Do you think you can take it Celden?"

The boy shrugged, "I will try uncle."

"If he will try," I said, "it would be rude of me not to give him the chance."

"Of course," the uncle said, grinning at me.

I was led behind a curtain of gauze so thin you could see the shapes of those outside but not discern them entirely. It was there that I was expected to have my way with the lad. I wasn't sure how comfortable I was with this, but once the lad dropped his blouse and kilt to the ground, exposing his hard little rod and smooth tanned frame, I changed my mind.

I removed my trousers in quick order, exposing my rod, which was already hard. The boy looked at it, his eyes big as saucers. I watched as he went behind us grabbed a candle and left the small enclosed area.

There were hoots and whistles as the boy walked across the room naked. One man slapped the boy's bottom as he walked back. When he returned, he used the candle to light a lamp, then set it beside the table and came back to me.

By this time I had removed my trousers and was leaning back on the bedding that had been provided. It felt a bit damp where I was laying and I had to wonder exactly what I was sitting in. The boy smiled quite seductively for a lad, and walked over to me, running a finger over the tip of my cock as he knelt down slowly at feet.

"Shall we do this twice," he asked.

I wasn't absolutely certain what he was asking, so I replied, "Certainly."

With no further ado, the boy leaned forward and engulfed as much of my cock as he could, which was merely a few inches, but enough to send sparks throughout my body.

The boy had one hand wrapped halfway around my shaft, while the other held my balls, or rather one of my balls, since his hand were too small to hold both. As he sucked my cock he ran his hand up and down my shaft and looked up at me.

His eyes were dark brown, almost black, and seemed to sparkle. I was quite taken with the lad and as I found I was want to do, I reached down and stroked his soft hair. I could tell he liked that, so I continued to do this, allowing him to set the pace of my entry.

I would find out later that one of the customs of service, is submission. Not in the sense that one might think, but submission to one's partner's pleasure. Men and boys alike were expected to abide by this. The boy, in his act of submission, removed his mouth from my cock, then crawled up on the bedding and laid down on his back, his feet facing away from me. Celden then shifted around until his head draped over the edge of the bedding.

Looking at me with his head upside down, he told me, "put it in my mouth."

I wasn't quite certain what the boy would be able to do in that position, he most certainly would have a hard time moving his head back and forth, but I did as he asked. I knelt in front of the boy and entered his mouth again, but only pushed the head past his lips. The boy sucked me for a bit, then put his hands around my legs and began to pull me towards him.

"You're supposed to fuck his mouth," I heard a voice say from behind the curtain, then the room erupted in laughter.

It was at that moment that I realized the purpose of the lamp was to project a shadow of what was occurring in the room on the thin gauze separating the boy and I from the crowd. In this way, those who were outside of the room could witness the acts inside without breaching the privacy of those within.

I was a bit mortified, but to be polite, I replied, "thank you."

I began to move my cock in and out of the boy, testing the depths slowly. I found the boy more than willing to accept me in his throat, even if it caused him to gag. In fact on one particularly deep push, he held me inside of his mouth as he gagged and his throat spasmed around my cock.

"Careful lad," someone said, I was almost positive it was Corvin.

"Sorry," I replied, pulling my cock out to rest back in his mouth.

It took hardly any time for me to feel my seed begin to boil, especially with the lithe sexy little figure laying down in front of me. I wanted to suck the boy's soft penis 'til it was stiff, but I knew that was frowned upon. A Suthian man can receive service, but only Suthian boy should perform the service.

With that I continued to fuck the boy's mouth, entering the boy's throat now and again, but never long enough to cause him to choke or gag for too long. When I was ready to cum, I pulled my cock from the boys mouth and held his head up with one hand as I jacked my cock off over him.

My come erupted like a geyser, the first shot reaching the boy's belly button, the second one landed near one of the boy's little pink nipples, and the rest found their place in the lads mouth and on his face. I came for what felt like a good 10 seconds, and the boy easily had seven or eight thumb thimbles of cum coating him.

As I finished I slapped my cock on the boy's cheek and forehead, shaking the rest of the cum from the tip, then pulled the boy's head back down by his hair and pushed my cock back into his mouth. He dutifully sucked any remaining juice from me, until I finally removed my cock from his mouth and helped him to sit up.

"You are quite talented," I said, smiling at the lad, who smiled back at me as well, a thick string of come dripping from his chin.

"Thank you m'lord," the boy said.

"You should go clean up," I said.

"Then you will have my bottom?" The boy asked.

I was taken aback, just realizing what he meant by twice.

"Certainly," I said again, smacking the boy's ass as he hopped off and left the gauze room.

"By the gods," one man exclaimed.

"Is that you under there Celden?" Another asked.

I smiled a bit proud of my performance, wondering what it was about small boys, crowds, and me. It seemed unseemly, but once you were primed, it was difficult not to take advantage of the situation when it was offered to you freely.

The boy came back, his face still a bit slimy, apparently he had only wiped it off with a rag. He was holding a pitcher in his hand. He handed the pitcher to me and stood in front of me while I looked inside.

It appeared to be a dark liquid inside that I had never seen. When I stuck a finger inside, I immediately felt a slight numbness.

"You're supposed to rub that on you," he said pointing to the pitcher I was holding.

"What do I rub on you?" I asked.

"Oil," he answered, as if it was a matter of fact.

"Of course," I said. "And why do I rub this on me?"

"So you last longer," someone said from beyond the curtain.

"Thank you," I said, a bit perturbed at the eaves dropping.

"Perhaps I should put some on you too," I said. "It would ease some of the pain."

"No," the boy said, shaking his head. "how can I service you if I don't feel you completely?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I meant no offense."

The boy smiled and walked over to the table with the lamp, he brought a bowl over and held it in his hands waiting. He motioned towards me to start putting the black liquid on my cock and I did.

The boy was right, I could feel my cock go a bit numb, but not completely. I knew I would last for quite awhile now.

After the liquid dried, the boy dipped his fingers in the oil and began rubbing it on my cock. It was taking a bit of time, so finally I grabbed him by his wrist and dunked his hand in the oil completely. He looked up at me shocked, but them got the idea and smiled. He quickly ran his hand up and down my cock, coating it once more. After he applied what he could, he would dunk his hand once more, then apply the oil again. I was ready in short order.

I expected the boy to ask to sit on it, but he didn't, instead he removed the blanket from the bed and rolled it up, then he crawled on top of the rolled up blanket, so that his hips were raised up, allowing me easier access.

I realized then that this lad was not fooling around. When he said he wanted to try, he really meant it. I looked at his bottom, his legs spread wide, and saw the little hole I was supposed to enter. It was slightly pink and completely closed. I knew for certain that, if there was any chance of me entering the lad, I would have to open him up first.

I dipped my finger in the oil that the boy had provided me and ran my finger in a circle around the boy's anus, teasing him. I continued to apply pressure around his hole, watching his back tense in anticipation.

"Put it in please," he finally asked.

I laughed and said, "A bit eager are we?"

"You can put it in," he said. "It'll fit."

"We'll see," I said to him, as I pushed my finger inside him in one smooth motion, then pulled it out.

The boy gasped and trembled a bit. I smiled, realizing the boy was finally understanding the enormity of what was to come. I continued to stroke one finger in and out of the boy. He looked over his shoulder occasionally, as I would learn boy's did when they were nervous.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

"Are you ready? I asked him as I entered him with two fingers.

"Yes," he said, groaning at the intrusion.

"Has he put it in yet?" I heard someone ask from beyond the gauze.

"No," someone replied. "Be quiet."

"I'm almost ready," I said, more for the audience's sake, and less for the boy.

"Will it hurt?" the boy asked in a worried tone.

"Yes," I said. "You're very small, so it will probably hurt a lot."

"Really?" He asked.

"Yes," I said. "You don't have to if you don't want to, there are older boys that will let me do this to them."

"No," the boy said, almost indignantly. "You can have me."

"You are such a good boy," I said, stroking his back with my hand as I pulled my fingers from his ass and knelt behind him, lining my cock up with his hole.

"You can… Oh Pappa!" he shouted, as the the head of my cock suddenly entered him.

"You're tight," I grunted as I leaning over his body, looking down at where I had entered him, his hole looking as if it was stretched to capacity.

"You're big," he said, as he made a hissing sound. "Its very big."

"You're doing good," I said, as the boy whimpered, and then suddenly sobbed.

"It's so big," he said, almost as if he was reminding himself.

"I wont push any more in," I said. "Not 'til you're ready."

"I don't think any more will fit in me," the boy said as he shifted his hips beneath me, trying to pull away from me, only to have me follow him, keeping my cock lodged in his backside.

"You can take more," I said. "Don't worry."

I knew from the sob the boy let out, that he was not so sure he could take any more.

"Be brave lad," someone said from beyond the gauze.

"You can take it Celden," his uncle shouted.

If they saw what I saw, they might've thought differently. The boy's anus was stretched thin, each time I pushed in, it was tugged inward, before it slowly slid back in place. I knew that this was the tightest hole I'd ever been in and I honestly wasn't sure if he could take more, but at the same time I wanted to push more in, to feel his tight hole wrapped around my shaft.

I sat there for awhile, waiting, watching the boy tremble, listening to him hiss as I readjusted myself now again, trying to get more comfortable.

"Are you ready for more?" I asked, allowing the boy to choose whether or not I should go deeper.

"Just a little," he said, whimpering as he anticipated my push.

As I slowly pressed my weight down against his small body, I felt my cock push forward. The boy was so tight, I barely got a fingernail's length in before I had to stop to let him get used to it.

"Oh it's big," the boy sobbed. "Take it out. Take it out."

"You can take it," I said, "be brave."

The gauze was suddenly ripped down and I suddenly saw my audience as they witnessed my entry of the small lad, curled up under me, his hands futilely pushing against my thighs, trying to push me off.

"By the Gods," Someone said. "He can't take that."

"Yes he can," Another man said.

I watched as the crowd drew closer to watch us.

"Uncle," the boy said, as he saw his uncle watching. "Please pull him off."

His uncle said nothing, instead he rubbed his cock through his clothes, groaning at the sight.

"Should we stop him?" One of the men asked the uncle.

"No," the uncle said. "It'll be a lesson for him. He'll know not to tease men, unless he can please them."

"Slowly lad," another man said to me, as he knelt down in front of Celden, stroking his cock openly.

At the time I had no more than 3 and a half knuckles in the boy and I seriously doubted that I could get much more inside. As I waited for the boys tunnel to quit spasming, I looked around me and noticed other boys, some were watching with fear in their eyes, other were performing the same service to men kneeling behind them.

"Put it all in," one of the young boys shouted.

"No, don't," Celden begged me.

"I wont put it all in," I said to him, then shifted my wait once more, allowing another half a knuckle to enter the boy.

Celden wailed, pushing against me, trying with all his might to get me to stop.

"He can't take anymore," I said, holding still inside of the boy.

I hovered over little Celden, moving barely a knuckle inside of him, I could feel myself on the edge. I did not want to hurt the child anymore, so regaining my senses and realizing the spectacle that presented itself to these men, I pulled away from the boy intent on giving them a show.

Celden gasped as I pulled out of him, leaving his hole empty, his tiny anus, stretched and dilated as I hovered over him, jerking my cock frantically, feeling the cum rising once more.

"Almost there," I said.

As I looked down and saw the pink insides of the boy's bowels, his hole wide open from our coupling, I could not hold back anymore. With a groan, a burst of burning juice shot from my cock and landed at the base of the boy's spine. As my cum ran down his crack to his empty hole, I moved to with a few knuckles distance from the boy and watched as more of my seed shot inside of the boy's twitching anus. The boy moaned as he felt the juices flowing inside of him.

It was an intense feeling, and no less so by the sight of the child, his head turned, his fingers touching his hole, feeling the heat and stickiness that covered him. The boy did not clean me with his mouth, in fact he did not move much at all, aside from pulling a blanket over himself, so that he hid his ass from the onlookers.

"Are you alright?" I asked, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"I'm sorry I couldn't take more," he said in a soft voice.

"You did fine boy. You took more than most," I said, kissing the boy on the cheek.

I slept in that bed that night with Celden beside me. I did not try to enter him again, rather I held the boy, trying to fill that loneliness in my heart. I watched him sleep, again stroking his hair and seeing how innocent the child was.


Some will say we lose our innocence when we learn of sex, I have learned the truth. We only lose our innocence when our hearts begin to be soured with guilt. It is when we are told that we are not right and can never be right, when that simple enjoyment of life for life's sake is taken from us, that is when we cease to be innocent. In a way it is our reassurance of our mortality, the point when we realize that our youth is fleeting, that soon we will never be young again.

The lucky will stay young, even as their body's grow old, but they are few and far between, for the rest of us, we tire as our body's tire. We dream of the past, even as the future looks bleak. We ask for some kind of reassurance that life does not hold only death for us, and when we wait for the answer, we only hear the words of men.

I will tell you a secret, I have never heard the Gods speak to me, nor have I met anyone who is sane that has, yet we allow the men who follow these same Gods to dictate for us how we should behave and what we should do, often under the penalty of death.

And when one man's god offends another's, we are more than willing to throw our children to war, regardless of the consequences. It is strange how they can kill their children and praise the king, yet not accept the fact that their children possess the same ability for sexuality and bliss that their parents do. And this is all because the voice of the Gods has stood behind an altar and told them it is wrong and impure.

I have never met a Man of the God's who was not torn with guilt. A normal man accepts the Gods and that's that. He listens with a cool mind, accepting what seems evident, but dismissing what doesn't. The fanatic, they have another purpose for serving the gods. They are there because they can not deal with the feelings that live in their hearts, the deep desire that they will scream is wrong, because they have been told it is wrong. They hide under the guise of purity, hoping that no one can see past that cloak of darkness that has covered their soul. And even as they commit this sin, telling their own victims that they are evil, they expect forgiveness. If there are any Gods left, it is hard for me to believe that kind of compassion exists.

Perhaps it is in the hearts of men that we breed guilt. Reminding others of the darkness we feel, presenting that which we succumbed to as the weight that the world should bear. Rewriting history so that it is absent of these facts, destroying the facts that have existed for tens of thousands of years, so that we can feel justified in our torment of those we hate.

If you ask how I could consider the Suth's as the most noble society, after what happened in that lodge, it's simply that I learned that what happened in that lodge, happened everywhere in the world. The only difference was where it happened and under what guise. The Suth's at least did not hide what they were doing, nor did they try to alleviate their guilt by turning to the gods or persecuting those who did not deny their lusts.

As for my Royal decree, my travels did not end in Suth, rather they were just beginning, but for the purpose of this tale, that is the place they end. Perhaps on another occasion, when I am less melancholy and worried about the future, I will tell you more of my past. Right now I have a festhall to run, so until I write you again, I bid you fair winds and good travels. May you find your own path.

The End

Well that's it. I'll hopefully be able to start on the continued adventures in a few weeks. If you like my story, please feel free to leave me a message, encouragement is always welcome.


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