Message-ID: <5251eli$9710291507@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/5251.txt> From: Star <amaze@ulcoa.com> Subject: First Story... [MM semi-consensual historical] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <34579086@mccspo.medctr.ucla.edu> This is set roughly in the 13th century Mongolian Empire. MM, semi-consensual. ======================================================= The cold air awakens me as the furs are lifted away from my skin. I roll over, pressing the blade of my curved sword against my intruder s stomach. I don t trust the mercenary foreigners my brother the kahn and I have begun traveling with, so I sleep with my sword unsheathed and close at hand. "Lieutenant... it s me," I hear whispered hoarsely. I recognize the voice of the third Mongol in our small "warband," the lad who had been an assistant cook and medic in our old life. He does not have a warrior s skills or temperament, but as he, my brother and I were the only survivors of the battle that turned us against the Empire, we kept him with us as a servant for our nascent warband, and -- increasingly, I find -- for my own comfort. I move the sword lightly against him, almost drawing blood from his naked chest. "I told you to never call me that again -- that life is over," I growl. "What brings you to my bed at this hour?" I ask, but I already know what will come of this sudden awakening. "The men... the foreigners.. they have been drinking heavily... and the khan is out walking again... and it has been many days since that last village..." he trails off hesitantly. "And you are afraid they will come take you like a woman since otherwise tonight they will go without," I finish for him. We have played this game before. He knows I will use him much as he fears they will, but I treat him gentler than they, at least when he comes to me willingly. It was not always so... in the beginning I had to seek him out and take him as my warmates take the women of the villages, with beatings and torn clothing and unyielding bodies bent over rough- hewn tables or forced onto hay-littered dirt floors. But now he comes freely, at least most of the time. As the foreigners joined us he quickly learned that my desires were far less repulsive that theirs, for while I can appreciate a willing partner and even encourage him to seek his own release while pleasuring me, they seek only victims for their own sadism. "And why should I stop them?" I ask, enjoying my power over the younger man, my voice thickening with my growing desire. He is silent and I grow impatient with the game. I lay aside my sword and reach for him, thinking that tonight is one of those nights he needs reminding of his place. To my pleasure, I find that he has saved himself the trouble of answering my putting his mouth to a better purpose. My breath hisses through my teeth as I feel his hot mouth run down the front of my body and envelope the head of my cock. It will be a good night. It always is when he is this eager. The fist I would have used as his reminder instead tangles in his hair, and I fight for control as he repeatedly sucks me deep into his throat. I don t want it to end so quickly, but it has been several nights since the other men have frightened him into my bed. If we don t come across another village soon, I know they will come after him again. I hope my brother has luck in his solitary search for our human prey, for I prefer this eager young man to the weeping, half-conscious heap their none-to-gentle "persuasions" leave me with. My fist tightens in his hair and he moans deep in his throat. The vibrations lose me what little control I had and I feel myself explode in his mouth... three, four, five times I thrust forward, the convulsions of his throat as he swallows adding to my pleasure. Temporarily sated, I lay back with a soft groan. "My lord?" he queries hesitantly, kneeling on the far edge of the small bed. I reach our a hand to touch him and find him trembling with desire and fear. Desire because -- despite our rough beginning -- he has learned that he enjoys our coupling almost as much as he enjoys pleasuring himself while watching the village women suffer his old treatment, and fear that now that I have been so quickly satisfied I will kick him back out into the night where the depraved, drunken foreigners are waiting. Not wanting to extinguish one with the other, I only indulge myself in teasing him briefly. "Well boy... who shall I invite to finish you off, since you have ended my night so quickly... Dante perhaps?" I ask, naming one of the more... inventive... barbarians. "It s obvious you for one are not done," I continue, running a finger lightly down his body. His entire body twitches at my touch and I feel my cock twitch as if in sympathy. It will not be a long wait... the continually changing mixture of his fear and desire are a powerful aphrodisiac. "My lord, please..." he begins, then quickly silences himself. He has learned that begging and arguments are not in his best interest... only obedience is rewarded. "Or shall we leave them out of this for tonight?" I continue, drawing his hand to my rapidly hardening cock so he can be reassured by my rapid recovery. As he strokes me to full hardness, I begin to maneuver myself behind his kneeling body. "Yes, my lord," he hisses as he arches forward in anticipation. Grasping his hips firmly, I begin to slide into him. He gasps and pushes back hard against my hands, trying to get me deeper inside. "What do you want, boy?" I ask. He is silent... for the moment he is being prideful and stubborn. "Please, my lord" he whispers. "Please... what? This?" I reply and slide in a little deeper. "Yes, oh yes..." he groans, almost frantic with desire, but I want to hear him beg for what he once tried to escape. "I ll ask you once more... what do you want?" I ask again, punctuating each word with a slight thrust, then back up until only the head is inside him. "Ah... no... don t stop. Please, my lord, fuck me... please... fuck me" he begs... it comes out almost as a sob. As punishment for his pride, I relent only a little, rocking slowly, giving him just a couple of inches at a time. "Is that what you want?" I ask through clenched teeth. "Oh yes... yes... more, please. Fuck me... fill me up... cum inside me" is his reply, all thoughts of pride lost in his ecstasy. Suddenly I plunge completely into him, falling forward and pulling his body tight against mine. His body shudders in complete surrender as he cries out, arches back and writhes against me. We hold that position for a moment, then I begin thrusting fully into him, speeding up with each thrust until I feel his trembling body stiffen beneath me. His orgasm triggers my own and I press myself into him as deep as I can. As his body drains me for a second time that night, I collapse onto him, bearing him down into the furs beneath us. I hold him tight against me until I feel both of our bodies relax, then roll off and settle back to continue my interrupted slumber. He lies tensely until I tell him he is welcome to share my bed until morning if he is not interested in entertaining the foreigners. "Thank you, my master," he sighs and is asleep almost immediately. Sometimes when he is lost in passion or nearly asleep he calls me that. I don t know why, for he doesn t bear the marks of a slave, but I find it almost familiar and oddly satisfying. Making sure my sword is near to hand, I fall back asleep. --------------------------------------------------------------------- I am awakened to the frigid cold of the pre-dawn blackness by the moaning and thrashing of my bedmate caught in a nightmare. He is mumbling is a foreign tongue that is hauntingly familiar and has kicked the furs half off us in his attempt to flee the horrors of his dream. As I pull them back up around us, he tries to leap from the bed, still mostly asleep. I consider just letting him go, but if the other men catch him in such a state -- naked and semiconscious -- he will suffer one of any number of rude awakenings. I pull him back down and he continues to try to rise until I throw a leg across him and secure his wrists to the bedframe with leather thongs. After a few more frantic attempts he lies still and seems to leave the worst of the nightmare behind. As his breathing slows and his muscles relax beneath me, I become aware of an interesting new sensation. I have had him helpless before, but never bound and an unexpected knife of arousal stabs at me. Unconsciously I fit myself closer to his body and rub against him. Still asleep, he reciprocates and his breathing quickens, this time from desire rather than fear. His willingness, especially in his sleep, arouses me even further as I contemplate how far I can go without waking him. Curious, I reach down to caress him. He responds by pulling one knee out to the side, granting me easier access. That and his own hardness are all the invitation I need. Moving slowly to avoid waking him, I lie on top of him and rock my hips forward. Without the tension that fear lends his waking hours, his body accepts me easily and that first gentle thrust buries me within him. He groans and presses back against me, but does not waken. Encouraged, I continue my slow rocking. As the heat builds between us, his response grows stronger -- he claws at the furs beneath him and pulls hard against the thongs that bind him, his groans turn bestial, and his legs bend, seeking leverage and deeper penetration. Eagerly I oblige, pulling him back by his shoulders as I push into him harder and faster. As I feel the tensing that precedes his climax, he awakens to find himself tied in the front and impaled in the rear. I almost pause to better experience his reaction, but I am too close. Apparently the situation agrees with him, for as I climax within him he finds his own explosive release, muffling his uncharacteristically loud moans in the furs. I collapse on top of him and hold his still trembling body tight to mine. Overwrought by his emotional roller coaster, he begins to weep. He tries to hide his face and roll away, but his hands are still tied. I should release him, but I have never seen him openly express an emotion other than fear or lust before. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /