Part 4
Cuthlain chose to ignore his surroundings, knowing they were ultimately of no importance on this mission, and that men of an era turned to dust for a thousand years Ð well over a thousand in Cuthlain's case Ð would be unable to fathom much of this society anyway. The recruit before them was of far more importance.
With his savage intuition, enhanced perhaps by the magical effects Geoffrey had initiated, Cuthlain could size up the nearly naked lad within moments, and much of what he saw impressed him. Unlike Geoffrey, whose transformation had suffered the severe disadvantages of a repressed, nature-denying society, this boy of the far future obviously had no qualms about enjoying the freedom of his bare body, with its taut muscle under sun-blessed, darkened skin. His feet, too, must constantly be kept bare, for they looked large, rough and calloused from sole to toe, yet remained beautiful and proportional. Cuthlain could tell the boy was good-natured, free-spirited and open to suggestionÉonly now he looked very scared.
Yet the savage warrior knew that some key obstacles, fear aside, surrounded the strange lad's persona. Right now he appeared slack-jawed, his large blue eyes clouded and bloodshot. Cuthlain sniffed the air, pungent with the scent of a burning herb he seemed to recognize. It was not too dissimilar to the holy plant the tribal shamans ingested during rituals and rites of passage to commune with the spiritual plane. Yet Cuthlain knew this boy, untrained in the holy arts, did not smoke this herb for its intended purpose, but only as a form of escape from problems he could not bring himself to face. Judgment so clouded would prevent any warrior from successfully completing his assigned duty.
And that was another essential blockade against the success of their mission: Cuthlain saw that this boy had avoided any sort of responsibility and probably never in his life had assumed any position of leadership within his own tribe. Instead, he had sealed himself off from the world of men and created some sort of pleasure chamber in which he could drown his sorrow. For Cuthlain could tell the sad stripling recently had lost kin to the world of spirits; he was lost and aimless and desperately in need of direction. The savage smiled; they had arrived just in time to provide the source of his salvation. Cuthlain could sense the untapped potential, could almost hear the powerful warrior trapped within the slim boy, screaming for release. A warrior at least as powerful, if not more so, than Cuthlain himself, the very hero they needed for the next stepÉ
At last, the boy croaked, senselessly in his clouded state, "Uhhh, duuude, like, what the fuck?" More gibberish amounting to the same spilled out of his mouth, sometimes just that word, dude, repeated over and over in different tonalities that suggested it had many meanings.
Geoffrey, also watching the strange scene with his startled, painted blue eyes, gently pressed himself against his lover-teacher's tattooed side, saying, "Is this the one we are to take with us? He seems like a madman!"
But Cuthlain nodded sagely, saying, "But he is not, only delusional and without direction. The soul of our people lies within him, chained, but thanks to you, my comrade, with the infusion of tribal magic that woke me from the land of the dead will we release what lies within and transform the surrounding shell into an example of fierce nobility!"
The naked figure on the couch suddenly pounced up, planting his big feet on the carpet, his slurred speech sounding quite panicked by the arcane conversation: "All right, dude, stopÉ y'all gotta leave; this is my pad!" His voice varied between stoned baritone and the cracking falsetto of a teenager under tension, and the two warriors knew they would have to make a move now before they sent this stranger into further hysterics.
Geoffrey stood forward, smiling, pounding his chest lightly as he announced what at first sounded strange to his own ears: "Greetings, comrade of my House. We apologize for this intrusion and wish you no harm. I amÉ I amÉ Gutfried, protector of the commonwealÉ" He swerved around and stared at Cuthlain, but his mentor only nodded and smiled in agreement with the change of title to a form befitting its ancient pagan origins. Gutfried nodded back, calmly accepting that this change sealed his transformation to a warrior of the tribe.
"Whaaa?" Josh muttered, his brain still failing to comprehend anything these naked dudes told him, although somehow he could grasp every individual word. Something about not harming him was a hopeful phrase to grasp onto.
Gutfried took a chance and cupped his bare shoulder, feeling the heat radiating off him. Despite the smell of weed and sweat, he was a very attractive youth, and Gutfried could feel his member rising again within his loincloth. Not now, though. They had much to accomplish. But the touch did seem to do the trick, and the heavily-breathing strange youth trembled a little less, but his blue eyes still looked wild, the pupils widely dilated from the drug so that his eyes seemed black rather than the thin ring of aquamarine radiating from the dark center.
"What is your name?" Gutfried calmly asked in a whisper.
"J-J-Josh," the scared boy stuttered.
"Joshua, like the prophet of the Bible," the once-Christian boy mused. "There is no need to fear. We have come from afar and must appear very strange to you, but we need your help."
"Yes," the taller, fiercer-looking youth interjected. "You, young comrade, are the warrior the spirits commanded me to find, the one who will save this world from the anarchy of its own creation."
"Me?" the boy squealed. "Warrior? Nah, dude, you got the wrong place. I'm sorry, man, but I'm stoned as fuck and just wanna be aloneÉIÉI can't do shit right nowÉ" He laughed nervously and tossed his mane of long, thick blonde waves over his shoulder.
"That can be remedied," Cuthlain announced. "Once Gutfried shows you proof of his allegiance to our common cause, our mutual love for one another, the fear within you will calm and your sense of purpose will rise to the surface."
Cuthlain nodded toward his protŽgŽ, who slowly embraced the slim, barechested youth before him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Josh shuddered in lust, his muscles relaxing into the embrace, but the thick member within his thin boxers seemed to have sprung to life, poking into the other's loincloth. This triggered Gutfried as well. He knew the touch would release a communication between them, and he could feel the fear lessening, draining from the stranger lad as knowledge breached the barrier of his stoned brain.
"Fuuuck," he exclaimed huskily again. "Like, you guys really are from the past! This is so dopeÉ"
As if it were totally natural now, Josh, in turn, stroked the hard, tattooed muscle on Gutfried's arms, their bodies pressing into each other. The heat between them was intoxicating.
Cuthlain paced toward them, his nimble bare feet crossing the carpeted room like careful cat's paws. "But we have little time. The spirits beg me now to release the warrior from within you, for this world is in its last days and will soon collapse into anarchy just as when the Empire of Rome fell. Tribes will brutally compete for power and many will suffer, but another of our seed from that time, another two-hundred years hence, has the duty to protect his woeful people. We are to help him."
Josh gave out another stoned laugh. "But how, dude. Fuck, I can't fight, only in video games."
Gutfried kissed him on the lips this time, feeling a ring piercing his lower lip. This boy, like Cuthlain, had piercings and even a couple of tattoos, though nothing like the wild arabesques of the savages. Still, he seemed already further down the road to pagan savagery than Geoffrey had been. The kiss released more knowledge, and now Josh looked afraid once more.
"You're going to make me like you? No way!" Josh's eyes roamed up and down the powerful muscle of the taller warrior, as he marveled over the possibility of even possessing a fraction of that strength. It was too fantastic to believe, and way too intimidating. He began backing away from Gutfried, again protesting in his babbling baby's voice, but Cuthlain saw a way to bring him into their fold:
"It is truly much to ask of you, young Josh, but perhaps we can make a compromise. Our magic allows us this power to cross through time, so perhaps we can give you a gift, something of another age you could cherish, before sacrificing your freedomÉ"
The dull blue eyes suddenly flared with horny energy, as Josh considered the tempting offer. And only one obsession of his could convince him to give in to this supernatural quest. "Be right back," he smirked, as he loped into his bedroom and came back with a worn skateboarding magazine, a vintage issue from the early 1970's. "Uhhh, dudes, could you bring me back to that time? All these hot skaterboys back then wearing barely anything, all chill like me, no fucking shoes neither for a few years yetÉ" He laughed, stretching his own big, bare feet out and flexing them on the carpet. "I'd be so stoked to skate with them just for a dayÉAll the fuckwads around here think I'm weird skating just like this all the time. These boysÉ" he sighed as he flipped through the pages of a world long gone, his eyes devouring images of the golden, toned teen bodies hungrily, "Éthese boys have my vibe! Take me there for just one day, and you can have me, dudeÉ"
Cuthlain nodded. He smiled inwardly as he kept the secret that the tribal magic already had told him Josh's most urgent desire, and the warrior knew his offer would serve as a tantalizing bait. "So be it, young comrade." He stretched out a muscular arm toward the wall behind them, where the portal had lain in invisible wait all along. Josh moaned, "Whoooa, duuudeÉ" but he knew there were just a couple more things he needed. "Wait a sec!"
Again he ran into the bedroom, tugging the boxers off himself and giving the two warriors a wanton view of his dimpled buttocks. Josh knew just to appear in boxers would not be kosher among those 1970s boys, but he found some non-descript cargo shorts that would fit the era and slipped those onto his narrow waist, then grabbed his retro wooden skateboard and hurried back in excitement. He couldn't believe his wet dream was finally going to happen!
Heart thumping in his bare, bronzed chest, the young stoner skater peered into the dark nothingness of the portal, afraid it would tear him apart. Gutfried gently pushed him forward, again taking the chance to kiss along his ear, while Cuthlain motioned for him to step inside. "Whatever. Gotta take the plunge, I guess," mumbled Josh as he stepped inside. Now he could see the other end, glowing and coming into focus, revealing a sun-splashed scene from the past in almost sepia tones: Longhaired boys dressed much like Josh on a beach boardwalk, bare feet gliding on their wooden boards. 1970's cars were parked behind them. Unreal! Josh yearned to join them and padded toward them. At first, Gutfried thought to follow, but Cuthlain held him back with a firm, large hand. "It is not for us," Cuthlain grunted. "We can watch from back here, so they will not be alarmed to see those not of their own kindÉ"
That made sense, and the disappointed former knight-to-be crouched down with Cuthlain and observed from a safe distance their new ally's day in summary: The friendly dude easily made friends with the skater crowd, jogging toward them confidently on his bare feet and high-fiving a few. Although already 21, he would pass among the high schoolers and enjoyed the warm morning and afternoon with them, awing them with tricks yet to be invented. It even seemed he flirted openly with a younger, doll-faced boy with shoulder-length brown hair, riding his board in only a pair of threadbare bellbottom jeans. Josh would massage his back and rest his face on his narrow shoulders as they took a break to watch their fellow riders. Gutfried felt an undeserved flare of jealousy.
The sun began to dip into the ocean, and now the scene changed, showing Josh following his new friends back to one of their homes for a house party. Classic rock of the 1960's and 70's played as the youthful skaters mingled, many of them still shirtless, others in tie-dyes, tank tops and ratty T-shirts, in rooms hazy with drifting pot smoke. Josh was in his groove, hugging that other boy close as he toked all he could, knowing the day was almost up. Finally Josh convinced the boy they needed privacy, and in a darkened bedroom, the two got busy, Josh making the other boy moan as he bred him primally. The invisible watchers took it all in, Cuthlain apathetic, but Gutfried breathing heavily. Cuthlain turned to his protŽgŽ: "You still will have your time with him, Gutfried. Do not waste anger on this. You will have to bond with him to manifest the change."
It was true; Josh's time in his 1970's fantasy was almost up. It had grown dark, and the two naked boys smoked even more weed as they lay stretched out on the bed. The other boy had fallen into a deep slumber when Josh noticed the portal in front of him. The time had come. Grabbing his board and slipping into his sagging shorts, he paced forward, through a tunnel, leaving the world of the past to dissolve into a fuzzy outline. A few moments later, the tanned youth was back in his own apartment, standing beside the two nearly naked savages. He reeked of pot.
Josh was thoroughly baked, perhaps higher than he had been in his life. He had been determined to get that way in the vain hope these two scary warriors wouldn't be able to use him in this fucked-up condition. But Cuthlain was unfazed. Despite the wayward boy's reddened eyes, dilated pupils and the goofy, slack-jawed grin, a firm semi still poked at his thin shorts from the recent breeding. He was still virile enough to take on the challenge.
"Duuuude, that was so sweet!" Josh exulted. "But do we really have to?" he pouted. Gutfried twisted his lip up a little in distaste. He would not miss this whiny, petulant brat. He was looking forward to the transformation.
Cuthlain nodded. "We gave you the gift you requested. Now you must return the favor."
Even Josh, in his baked state, understood, and he sighed. "K, dudes, go for it."
Cuthlain took Gutfried aside for some instruction, warning him: "This one will change slower than you did. I sense much resistance. Remember, you were already on the path to knighthood, but he has known no discipline all his life. The best way to proceed is to demonstrate the love we warriors hold for each other. Your intertwining passions will release what is deep inside him."
Gutfried was both terrified but thrilled by the excitement of not knowing the exact result of his lovemaking. Still, he approached stoned Josh and tugged the shorts off him, allowing the semi-hard dagger, already at 6 inches, to spring forward. Gutfried gasped, never having seen a circumcised member before. He tugged at his own loincloth, loosening it and letting it fall around his big feet.
The two boys attacked each other's mouth, pressing their face hotly together. And Josh moaned, partly from the passion, partly from feeling something burst within him, causing his lungs to swell. The first dam had been brokenÉ
Gutfried could feel it as well, as he stood back to gaze on Josh, finding he already had changed slightly, increasing tone to the muscles under the tanned skin. The chest seemed swelled a little larger, the shallow six-pack a bit more pronounced, as if lots of crunches had evaporated some of his babyfat. The arms had some more swell to them as well, and Gutfried felt his passion increasing. He mauled Josh's neck, sucking the flesh damp with sweat, and Josh kept moaning, "ooh, duuude," in a whimpering tone over and over, until another dam seemed to break, and a wave of maturity passed through him. Now he grunted a bit more animalistically, the savage leaking out, the throaty grunts replacing the whimpers.
Only Cuthlain could notice that the bloodshot eyes were clearing, the pupils shrinking back, revealing eyes that glowed a vivid, electric blue. Even as baked as he had been, it was no match for the tribal magic that was releasing Josh from all artificial bonds. The drugs drained from him slowly, and now Josh was actually feeling again. He shoved Gutfried aside suddenly, and the startled warrior looked to see what was wrong. Josh began to pace the room, his bare feet looking even a touch bigger now, but his face looked firm and hard with pent-up emotion, not the goofy grin he had had just moments ago.
"You must let it all go," Cuthlain told him. "Release the pain and embrace both joy and suffering. It makes the warrior stronger!" he roared as he thumped his chest.
"But it's not fucking fair!" Josh yelled, and he burst into tears, falling to the ground and covering his face as he sobbed into the carpet. Gutfried moved forward to help, but Cuthlain held him back, his touch communicating to him that the warrior emerging from the wayward boy must come to terms with the loss of his kin and all he had known. "A true warrior allows tears to flow freely," the savage explained. "He should not keep them bound within him, as this one has done. You will seeÉ"
After what seemed like forever, the naked, sobbing figure bathed in moonlight had exhausted himself from crying. He lifted his face, composing himself, and Gutfried could see that even his boyish face had changed a little. It seemed a bit firmer, harder-edged, the eyes intelligent and glowing under long, dark lashes and brows. He now seemed confident as he announced, "I am ready nowÉ"
The body spasmed, Josh grunting in response, and Gutfried stood in wonder as he saw the few strange tattoos on his body, the winged skateboard near his bare ankles and the marijuana leaf over one of his broadening pecs, were changing and spreading, transforming into the same tribal tattoos both savages sported. These would be a bit different though, the elaborate patterns containing symbols from the many Germanic tribes from which the youth descended, almost as if they had been stored deep within his genetic code awaiting this moment of release. The tendrils spread slowly across the tanned flesh, and Josh groaned, his eyes shut tight.
"He will still need you. The process will be painful," Cuthlain advised. Gutfried fell to his knees in front of the growing boy and took the still stiff member in his mouth, lavishing attention on it. It had grown a bit thicker and longer as well, the foreskin creeping over the head to return it to its natural state. Josh moaned his approval, the passion bursting through another dam. The body spasmed, initiating a new wave of growth. The chest deepened, now looking more powerful, the pecs expanding, the small, brown nipples growing as well. Shoulders broadened in response, leading down to the thickened arms swelling with veins. The tattoos kept spreading across those shoulders and down the arms, the one near his feet spreading up the legs and down onto feet that were spasming into greater growth. Already big, they must be a size or two bigger now, and Gutfried tongued their surface, licking along the lengthening toes.
"Aaaah!" groaned Josh in a voice seemingly an octave lower. He tossed back his sweaty mane of golden hair, which also was growing longer, thicker, more unruly. Now Cuthlain stepped forward to help, using his skills to pull the hair into a thick braid such as his own, a vine that looked like it quickly would approach his slender waist.
Josh opened his eyes again; they were wild and hungry with lust, no longer the clouded orbs of gentle Josh. He confidently pushed Gutfried onto his stomach, pulling his firm bare buttocks up in the air to meet his crouching stance. Gutfried knew he was about to be plowed much as the boy from the 1970's world, and he breathed huskily in preparation for it. Already lubed in a sheer coating of sweat, Josh thrust in, grunting loudly as he felt the tight confines of the savage's insides. The breeding was kicking in changes stronger now.
As the growing warrior thrust in and out, a deep eight-pack of severely ridged abdominals, traced by tattoos, came to life. The upper torso now seemed twice the size of the slim surfer-skater he had been, narrowing down dramatically to a tiny, firm waist that might have been a size smaller than before. The legs were long and powerful for full days of running, leading down to those very muscular, thick bare feet that were also narrow and long for climbing, still a bit out of proportion to the rest of him as they had been at the beginning, but still very attractive. Even as he was bred, Gutfried continued to suck and lick over the new warrior's toes, making him groan even more.
The spasms came on harder and harder, molding Josh into a new man, or one who had been trapped within since the primal ages. At last, he came mightily, roaring like the savage beast he now was as he spilled his seed into now smaller Gutfried. He gasped, taking several minutes to catch his breath, sweat rolling prodigiously down the full, swelling muscle of his new body.
Gutfried rolled over, satiated, his insides feeling on fire. Cuthlain pulled him to his feet, and both stood to examine the new warrior they had created.
The moon was high in the sky now as Josh stood to his bigger feet, now towering and imposing, at least as tall as Cuthlain if not an inch more. Every muscle stood out in bold relief under the paper-thin, deeply tanned skin, still signifying the beach environment he had come from in contrast to Cuthlain and Gutfried's paler complexion. The now uncircumcised member still hung long and flaccid under a thin bush of brown hair that previously had been a wispier thatch of dark blonde. The brown hairs continued up to a thin trail of dark fur just below his navel, and a little above it onto his rocky belly, which before had been smooth as a baby. Gutfried knew intuitively that the surge of virility was responsible for the slight increase in his hairiness and the darkening as well.
But other than that, the rest of his long, V-tapered torso was smooth, only covered in tribal arabesques. And his face, good-looking before, was now male perfection, chiseled, strong, high cheekbones framing flashing, intelligent eyes of sea blue, full lips under a nose still small but flaring a little wider. The hair, now braided and falling to the tiny waist, was so voluminous that a wealthy thatch of it still spilled out, golden-blonde, to fall along the side of his face, shading eyes that didn't need war paint, as a few thin, black tattoos even circled those blue orbs in tendrils, making him look doubly fierce.
The new warrior gazed at himself, amazed, flexing his big feet that already felt like they needed a test run, and he saw his discarded shorts were now a primitive flap of furred hide, secured by a leather strap. He pulled it casually about himself, finding as well an iron hatchet that would be his signature weapon, and he tucked that into the strap.
At last, he gazed at the two savages before him; he was now a comrade of their band, and he thumped his chest proudly, announcing in a deeper baritone: "I am Jovan, hunter and warrior. I thank you for releasing me, and together we shall accomplish that which we warriors are committed to, the protection of the defenseless!"
And Gutfried and Cuthlain thumped their chests in response, crying "Hail, Jovan!" Now, their mission could truly begin.