SECRET OF THE TURTLE MEN
Chapter 2
"Angels, Djinni and Ifriti"
Pavel had to admit that his only prior experience with mountain passes had been the relatively clean, straight and open pass to Connobar. He had expected this to be the same, a wavering but clear valley through which they would skirt the mountains from the Arab plains to his own jungle-clad valley. Instead, he had been subjected to the actual experience of mountain travel; they rode around boulder-clogged gulleys by traversing the mountain's side, they climbed the mountain directly up to get around a sharp shoulder, to find themselves forced to turn back down once again to continue their travels. Time and again they had to get off the sukhusans and walk them over stretches of terrain, the sukhusans balking and Pavel not blaming them for not wanting to risk the trek. Whatever the path back to his home valley would be, it would not be an easy journey. He was wishing he'd asked the Angels for help after all! They could have flown him over the treetops (flying!--he shuddered) and he could have come back and steered their little caravan the right way. As it was, they had to turn back again and again, and try another way.
So three days later, they were still climbing around the long, slow slopes of the first mountain and Pavel knew there were more beyond it. When they came into a clear space where their path climbed the mountain flank, Pavel could look back and see far out over the plains. But he could also look ahead and see that the mountains were still ahead. He was beginning to worry about their food supply; as a child of the jungle able to pluck food from the very trees around him, he hadn't insisted on proper preparation for their long trek. Aram, more practical, had chosen what he had considered to be a week's supply of food, and he had planned well, but what if they got lost in these mountains? Pavel decided that unless they saw a clear way through the mountains within the next two days, they would turn back. Water, they must find before the end of the day if they were not to start rationing it, perhaps by making the sukhusans travel without. Sukhusans, the Desire-altered progeny of horses even though they more resembled camels, could not travel overlong without water; even though it must come from their master's canteens, they had to have it.
His hands, which had been hanging at his sides for a rest on this gentle stretch, reached back around Aram. The pink mist was as strong in the mountains as it was in his jungle, perhaps more so since it seemed to accumulate in the valleys, and what is a pass but a form of valley? They had dipped down again on their trail and now were traveling a wide, gentle downslope strewn with only low bushes and the occasional boulder lying alone to be gotten around, and he saw the mist waiting for them below. Why wait until the last minute? Aram's clothing, a long but slitted tunic and the leggings, yielded easily before his now-practiced hands, and he found and fondled Aram's hardening prong happily. Looking back, Jethro, who had taken over guiding the sukhusan from Jassem who now was perched behind him, was getting similar attentions from Jassem and a wide smile rested on the blond, grey-clad soldier of Connobar.
"We should find a place and rest." Pavel suggested.
"I feel we must travel on for a time more." Aram protested. "There may be water in the valley below, and the day is waning." Aram then, too, thought of their diminishing water supply.
Pavel leaned forward. "Then perhaps you could rise up on your saddle for me?" And his cock smeared precome on Aram's back, a damp spot Pavel had stained and restained much these last few days in this manner.
Aram sighed and obeyed, but it was a sigh of joy. Pavel and he had done this much in their ride, Pavel fucking Aram during the ride and Pavel giving himself in turn to Aram at their rests off the sukhusan. So Aram rose up, Pavel slid forward slightly, and Aram came back down and his anus landed near-perfectly on Pavel's cock.
A sleeve of hot, wet pleasure slid over Pavel's pud and he murmured. "Ah, my bodyguard, friend and companion, this travel has been worth it for these times if nothing else."
"Gladly do I give myself to my sultan." Aram gasped in return as he nestled himself into position, partly on Pavel's thighs and partly on the saddle. The sukhusan looked back and snorted a protest at their motions, and turned its attention back to the trail, obviously offended at the crude manners of his riders. Pavel laughed, the sukhusan's sniff had reminded him unbearably of Telar, the rather pompous leader of the Turtle Man his father had dealt with on several occasions after the war with Connobar. Telar still could not reconcile the Angel's alliance with Facilitata with his concept that the Angels were the Masters, to be obeyed in all things, but certainly never to be commanded by mere humans! His father had to argue with Telar nearly every time he needed the Angels' assistance.
Aram pressed himself back against Pavel's chest and began to bounce on Pavel's cock, and Pavel clutched him tightly to hold this slim Arab lover steady while he ministered to Pavel's prod.
There was the rather cool wind about them, almost a bite to it, such as Pavel had not experienced since his ride in the turtle bower to the Arabian plains, there was the steady jogging trod of the sukhusan beneath him which translated to a rocking motion of his own body, there was the way Aram turned this rocking motion into the tempo of their lovemaking with his own rise and falls, so that it made the clops of the hooves merge with the smaller sound of Aram's ass as it suckled and clutched at his cock, so that the entire world had combined with Pavel in his lovemaking, and his own body responded to this, he held Aram now less in caution than in passion, his cock responding in ripples of electric passion in the same tempo as the clop-clop of the hooves, the moves of the sukhusan, the moves of Aram, the strokes of the cool wind, the motions of his world, all coalesced and descended upon him, pressed him down until his world was that of Aram and himself, his eternity was lost in this moment, there was no other world, no other mission than to fuck this man.
It was the mist, Pavel realized dreamily, and knowing better than to fight it, he turned himself over to it, drinking in the musky aroma of Aram, tasting his shoulder which he had partially bared with his tight clasp around Aram's body, breathing, drinking in his Arab stud, as if he could somehow quench all desires in his life in this way, if he could just feel, taste, smell enough, enough...
"Ah, hah, hah!" Pavel grunted his warning to his dark lover, and Aram reacted by running his body up to high speed, and the sukhusan took the motions for urging on, and the sukhusan broke into a run down the hill, jolting their bodies, jolting Pavel's senses with the faster motions, they were flung pell-mell in this fashion down the mountain while Pavel gave himself to his lust, which had been now fanned into a frenzy.
"Guh, guh, uh, huh, hahh, HUH-GUHHNNK!" he groaned and his seed pumped out of him upwards into Aram, and Aram writhed in his embrace and Pavel saw through the dim haze of his lust-blurred eyesight that Aram was pelted the sukhusan's neck with his own sperm, white arcs of jism flying to land on the pink hide of the beast suspended in their pink world.
Pink, they were surrounded by the mist; no wonder Pavel had been slave to his passion even in this rampant, headlong flight. It was a marvel that they had not fallen off, still squirting their jism as they fell perhaps to their deaths!
Pavel forced his traitor body to obey now, while it would, while passion was temporarily slaked, and he steaded Aram on his perch and even took the reins briefly in hand, while Aram gasped for air and his senses and, regaining them, gave a cry of surprise and took back the reins, hauled back hard on the sukhusan.
But it ignored him, it pummeled down into the valley, and Pavel looked around to see that Jethro's sukhusan was doing the same, Jethro hauling desperately and inexpertly at the reins. Jassem was nowhere to be found!
"Jassem!" he called, releasing Aram to turn further in the saddle. "Jassem!"
"They got him!" Jethro shouted back.
"Who?" Then he felt a hard yank on his shoulders, hard hands which hauled at his body, more hands which lifted him by his arms and upwards off the sukhusan and he understood dimly what had happened.
He turned his eyes up to look at the Angels that had taken him, and found himself staring into unfamiliar forms. It was as if an Angel had mated with a Slan, to create this big, wide-faced, sharp-toothed form.
"Ah! The Ifriti!" Aram called. "My Sultan has been captured by the Ifriti!"
"Ifriti?" Pavel said as Aram's voice, still calling, became fainter from distance. He knew better than to struggle, he was airborne and in their hands, life and death belonged now to these two unfamiliar creatures that carried him one on either side of him. Somewhat to his surprise, he was not fear-stricken, but steady, calmer than he had ever been in his life, as if he could appraise the risks clearly and take the best line of action.
The Ifriti were wide, broad-shouldered, bodies covered in hair, not with fur as an animal, but as a very, very hairy man would be, eyes were yellow and black rays radiating out from a black pinpoint in the center, even the faces bearing hair, not in a beard, but in equal profusion all over, as if Pavel's own thinner chest hair had been transplanted onto this face, so that a third of what he saw was hair and the rest was skin. The wings, too, were not the beautiful feathers of the Angels, but were articulated skin, the blue veins showing clearly through the thin brownish flesh that was nearly translucent where the air and strain of flying stretched it taut.
"Can you understand me?" Pavel asked of the Ifrit on his left, when there was no response. "I am not a Turtle Man, but I am a friend of the Angels. My comrades and I are on a journey that will aid the Turtle Men as much as my own people."
The Ifrit's response was unexpected, he laughed heartily, a sound which was not at all friendly-sounding, but the mirth of the victor in a struggle at the writhing of his adversary. "If the Angels had known of you, they would have told us." he said when he had finished laughing, which took quite a while. Pavel had given up all hope by then. But he rallied at this response.
"They knew we were coming this way, but they didn't know we were coming exactly here. I'm sure if you'll check with them...."
"Don't mind if I do." the Ifrit interrrupted and raised his head. "Hey, Vorin, do you recognize this one?"
"Never saw him before." came the answer from above and behind Pavel.
Pavel threw his head back and could just make out the Angels there, two of them, bearing someone in their hands as he was being borne, the three figures at the very edge of his vision and refusing to take shape or color.
"Jassem?" he called out. "Jassem, is that you?"
"It's me!" Jethro called out. "Jassem gave out a call and was suddenly gone, I don't know where he is!"
"Jethro? Jethro, they got you, too?"
"Yeah, but Aram got his sukhusan under a ledge. I don't think they could get to him." Jethro said.
"If Jassem is the other one we took, then the Djinni have him." the Ifrit said. "We saw there were four of you, and decided to each select one of you, and let the other one go."
Pavel looked about and saw what might be other forms far off to his right. He could not turn his head far enough in this position to see anything more than that there was something in the skies there, and he cursed his inept neck, unable to show him what he needed to see!
"Where are you taking me?" Pavel asked, for the Angels were ferrying Jethro off in another direction, and even the Ifrit had changed their course.
"Taking you to where we keep the rest of you." the Ifrit said. "We need you."
"Need me for what?" Pavel demanded.
"You'll see." the Ifrit said. And he laughed again. It was such a hard sound, Pavel didn't like it at all.
"Shall we test this one out before we take him back to our people, Isham?" The Ifrit asked his companion.
"Of course, Ashmid." the other Ifrit said.
"Test me out?" Pavel asked, only now thinking of himself and his position. He was clutched by two brutish figures and suspended high in the air!
They swooped down with him into the valley below and Pavel feared as the mist, strong and palpable as the Khamsin, enveloped him. They could hit something doing this! "Ahhh!" he shouted.
Through and through the mist they flew, and then they rose into the air.
"Did you get a good gulp of that, little man?" Ashmid asked him.
"Gulp?" Pavel gasped out, looking at the Ifrit again. How much he resembled some horrible ancient creature; Grendel of the legend must have been much like this man. That is what he looked like, some primitive, slavering, bestial man and he had Pavel in his clutches. A big, rough, hairy brute of a man....
"Oh, no!" he sighed as he realized the intent of that long plunge through the mist. "Please, no!" His cock was as hard as a spear jutting out in front of him and he felt one of their fingers caressing his balls, probing them and riding out to touch the base of his cock.
"We have quite a flight left, still, to my people's domain." Ashmid said. "Shall we not enjoy the travel much as you were enjoying it with your guide?"
"Aram is more than my guide." Pavel said. That finger, it was wrapping around his cock, completely around...around more than once! "What is that?" he said, and looked down as well as he could. Another finger was snaking around his ass, and it felt more like a snake now, stroking his body rather than clinging to him, but definitely not the stiff joints of fingers. Now he had a chance to realize, he knew all four of the two Ifriti hands were still holding onto him.
He saw it wrapping around his cock, a long cylinder like a snake's body, but instead of the diamond-shaped head, he saw...a cockhead! The Ifriti had prehensile cocks!
And Isham's cock was now probing at his ass! "Oh, no!" he gasped as the cock seemed to make itself more slender and slid in less like a prick than a finger, only to fatten up again when it was inside of him. "Ah, hah!" he grunted at the odd feel of this adjustable prong.
And Ashmid's cock was now totally wrapped around Pavel's dick, and Ashmid gave another laugh as his cock began to work Pavel's, as if a coiled spring were compressing and relaxing again.
Such an incredible feeling, this coil of cock around his own, warmer than fingers, able to grip him equally on all places at once, surging and squeezing his cock back and forth, back and forth!
"Gah!" Pavel's lips burst forth. He couldn't help it, too much mist! Too much! He had been dipped in the mist for this purpose, to drive him insane with desire, unable to resist these two! His body welcomed the prehensible intruder into his butt, his cock relished the feel of Ashmid's agile, lithe prong milking him. His only desire now was to be able to touch his two lovers!
But he was dangling in mid-air, his arms totally trapped and his hands not in contact with any part of their bodies. He had no way to show his appreciation for their ministrations on him, no way at all.
He could only look longingly into Ashmid's face, see the hard, rough, brutal features now softened with lust. "Does this...please you too?" he asked the Ifrit.
"Yes, little man." Ashmid said. "I pleasure myself along with you when I do this."
"I'm...I'm glad." Pavel admitted and gave himself to his pleasures. Their arms didn't seem so harsh against his any more. He looked over at Isham and smiled, and Isham chuckled softly. His face was thinner than Ashmid's, there was that about Isham that reminded him of Aram. And Ashmid looked much like Rashid, who had been the first Arab leader to greet Pavel on his trip to the plains....
Ashmid's cock was pumping hard at Pavel's cock now, driving Pavel wild, sending surges of pleasure through his body, Isham's cock was now a pile-driver of amazing girth inside of Pavel; he had been stretched out little by little as Isham continued to keep Pavel's accommodating ass tight on his by expanding his cock in response, it felt less like a cock in his ass now and more like an...an arm! His ass cheeks were being pressed apart as he was fucked by Isham, his body loved it, loved it!
How long were these Ifriti cocks? Pavel saw Ashmid's cock, which continued to pump him, also stretch outwards until the enraged, reddened cockhead was now well out into the air, over a foot away from Pavel's own cock! It turned and reached up toward's Pavel and Pavel realized, bent his head over. As the cock, getting undeniably slender in its efforts, made it up to him, Pavel took the cockhead into his mouth and tasted the precome-smeared organ. There was the flavor not of salty ocean water, there was the taste of a bright, new copper penny he had played with as a child, putting it into his mouth and he still remembered that metallic, bitter taste. It was like that, Ashmid's precome.
He licked it off anyway, Ashmid's cock was boiling hot and Ashmid's pulsations on Pavel's prick were driving him mad. Anything to keep this wonderful feeling going, of being fucked by a fat cock, of being so expertly milked, he'd lick this cockhead and savor the odd taste! His own cock gurgled and he felt his body tense up. "Mm! Mmh!" he warned of his orgasm.
But they needed no warning, Isham was an insane pole of fury in his ass, and Pavel felt him move into an incredible fast speed and then the surge of jism into his ass, as Isham bellowed his pleasure full-throated, "Hah, AHHHH-AH-AH-AH-HAH-HAH-HAH!!!!"
"Mmh, muh, muh, MUKKKHHH!" Ashmid hissed between his razor-sharp but clenched teeth, he sent his cock's spring-action into overdrive as he sprayed his copper-penny wads into Pavel's mouth, Pavel drinking it down as well as he could, unable to breathe as his own climax assailed his senses.
His cock was compressed tightly in Ashmid's ejaculation-tautened cock-grip, Pavel felt his seed catch and cling as it surged out of his pud, only to explode in high arcs out of his body at last, at last!
Ashmid's cockhead left his mouth and Pavel gulped in air, then bellowed his joy at the top of his lungs, high in the air, giddy with the height, with the thinner, colder air, dizzy with the sensations of flight, every nerve in his body quavered at this moment, and he sprayed high, long and hard, sending his seed out to fly ahead of him through the air!
Done, he felt Isham's cock still in his anus, slowly decreasing in size, lowering his ass' interior back to its previous circumference in stages. Ashmid's cock dropped in length instead, it felt like a snake was crawling down Pavel's cock and over his balls, traveling back to its dark nest.
But Ashmid's cock stopped when the head was again even with Pavel's. Pavel felt it stop, felt Isham's prong drop out of his ass like a massive sticky lump, and looked at Ashmid in wonder.
"Not going to let you go just yet." murmured Ashmid. "We have a ways to travel yet, and it is heavy with mist.
Pavel knew he would soon be again in the clutches of passion. Now, while he could, he tried to think of something to do, some way to escape, to rejoin his now-scattered companions.
Ashmid's cock stroked his own lazily, as if it was going to be there for a long time and was settling in at its new home, a caduceus of lust.
What to do about his captivity? He couldn't think of a single thing!