Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/historical/the-heathens/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex between young-adult and adult men. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty TODAY at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.
I took a long a shuddering breath, "I am nothing if I am not your Kucuk and striving every day to be your Dasqas. I deserve neither, but will work every moment of my life to earn the names you, my saviour, and given me. I will never defy you, never disobey you, never turn away from you. Please, Please I beg, let me again call you my Aldas, and let me earn the right to be your puppy and, perhaps, one day far distant, your gemstone."
The Heathens 11: The Blue Lotus
By Bear Pup
M/T; oral
Harcos leant forward and with the massive paw not holding my chin, wiped away my tear. "I could never let you go, little one. But I cannot live in constant fear of losing you either. You took a risk yesterday that put you in the path of a charging chariot. What are we to do?"
I fell into his chest and sobbed, apologising and swearing holy oaths. He pried me away. "You are a to become a warrior and a man. Dry your eyes. boy. If you truly with to earn your names, serve faithfully. I will decide what to call you when I see what you do. For today, you will call me Harcos and nothing more. Help Zajak serve Pam, and teach him. Go. boy. Today is a camp day."
I threw on my camp-shirt and fled the tent, frantically drying my eyes. Zajak emerged and seemed genuinely surprised by my look of grief with a tiny shred of hope, and with the fact that I'd already brought the water to boil. Zajak took care of his morning water and returned with the makings of a breakfast more in keeping with what my family had enjoyed. He'd found clutch of bird eggs that I recognised to be from a chukar; they would be gamy and a little harsh, but easy to prepare.
I whispered for him to find some cheese in Pameten's larder and sprinted to some nearby brush to find what wild herbs were there. I found something that smelt like sweet basil but with strange leaves. I crushed and tasted them, confirming it was as expected. Another herb, something we called ayaqkul, foot in ashes, because it erupted so quickly after a fire. It was sharp and tangy and would remove the harsh taste of the chukar eggs.
I had Zajak mix in the ayaqkul and salt, the pour the beaten eggs into a shallow vessel. I showed him how to let it cook slowly, always stirring gently. I in turn made a quick bread I'd seen one of the other servants make, and set it in another shallow vessel and watched it bubble and rise. I told Zajak to go wake his master and I would finish, dropping the finely-chopped not-quite-basil on top.
I was surprised by how long it was taking until I heard the deep voice of Pameten trying without success to stifle a series of quick and melodious sounds. It was a song of which I was certainly learning the chorus, "Unh, unh, unh, UUUUUUU!" A freshly attired Pam emerged about five minutes later with the most astounded and delighted face I'd ever seen, followed by Zajak who was blushing but kept darting his tongue to his lips as if seeking a tiny drop more of some exotic taste.
Harcos emerged, dressed, just as Pameten exclaimed over my dish. I gave him my most-confused look and pointed to Zajak. "No, honoured warrior, your Zajak made this so you could break your fast in a special way this morn."
Pameten turned with Zajak who was looking at me, utterly lost, then became a whole different kind of lost when I met (and melted into) Pam's dark eyes. I glanced as Harcos and he was beaming at me, a look quickly replaced with a poorly-executed stern face with an approving grin beneath. I tried (and equally failed) to look suitably abashed.
This was one of the hardest working days that I'd known. Harcos and Pameten both produced the wooden training swords and set me and Zajak against each other. Harcos would only call me 'boy' as they gave us our instructions. What hits would count and what would not. They let us go for one hour, more or less, before calling a halt. Zajak had longer reach but was far more tentative, but determined to draw praise from his master; I was quicker and looking to impress Harcos so we were evenly matched.
At the end of the hour, Pam pulled Zajak aside and Harcos did the same for me, and each berated his servant for each error and lost opportunity. They pulled us back together and laid us, facing each other, over their knees. Pam had me help explain that he and Harcos had been keeping score and that we would get one smack for every mistake. Zajak looked perplexed but a bit keen, probably expecting a slap-and-tickle kind of thing.
His eye bulged when Pameten's broad and heavy hand first made contact, but I had little time to savour the change; Harcos lit into my ass like a fiend. Much to my chagrin, I got rather more smacks than Zajak and was extremely disgruntled (and sore!) by the time the last slap died. Harcos sat me on his lap and began to speak low to me, explaining what I knew. That I'd been treating it like a game which are far more dangerous than anything else. I looked over and saw the extremely tall Zajak curled almost comically in the shorter man's lap, hanging with rapt attention on every word.
Again, they set us against each other, and I was actually amazed at the intensity of Zajak's gaze. The last thing that Harcos had told me was that he and Pameten had laid a wager on the winner just in case our reddened asses were not motivating enough.
Zajak was anything but tentative, but I recalled something that Harcos had taught me days earlier. I used Zajak's size against him, moving in close which robbed his longer arms of their advantage. We went for another hour, perhaps more, utterly absorbed in watching the other to the exclusion of everything else. We both jumped when Harcos and Pameten clapped sharply to call a halt, having both frankly forgotten they were there.
Our masters conferred for far too long as Zajak and I got more and more nervous. They finally broke apart and declared a tie to our exuberant and boyish joy; I hugged Zajak as he whooped and pounded my back like a comrade in arms... which I guess we now were. We broke apart and rushed out respective masters, hugging them and thanking them for the training and advice. Nothing, though, compared to when Harcos slipped and called me Kucuk before he coughed and returned to 'boy'. I knew in the moment that there was hope and I hugged him hard enough to bruise.
After we rested and let our lunches settled, I noticed that Zajak was wearing a dagger, longer and thinner than mine but in a similar sheath. It was clear that he had gotten the same warning I'd done. I warned him that, when Pameten got around to training him one on one, not to make the mistake I did and leave his weapon for any reason, no matter how much his master pretended to howl.
They refused to even hear the question when we asked what the wager had been, not matter how we wheedled and whined, it was as if they were deaf to those questions and hints. This went on throughout the language lessons. I took a very active role in teaching Zajak and found that I was learning faster by trying to explain, then adjusting with Harcos' gentle corrections.
Both Harcos and Pameten had set snares early in the morning as Zajak and I policed after breakfast, and both came back with a brace of summer-fat rabbits. Two became a carrot-rich and spicy stew; the others were smoked a few yards downwind. Harcos got into a lengthy discussion about a type of wood that Pameten had used, something Harcos found interesting as it seemed to emit the sweetest, gentlest smoke.
After dinner, Harcos and Pameten took turn grilling us over words and weapons. Harcos gave me a disappointed frown when I started answering quickly and I realised this was as much or more for Zajak than myself. I even whispered hints to my compatriot when I thought I could get away with it. Pameten was beaming with pride and pleasure at how well Zajak was doing so quickly and Zajak practically wagged at the praise.
After packing away the smoked rabbit and policing everything else, we sat and watched the stars. One of the herbs that Harcos had bought looked like large, dried flowers. It was a fragile purplish-blue like cornflower, but with brilliant-gold needles laced throughout. He stewed it into a tea with various mints. Pam called it the Balm of Homer. When Harcos' attention was diverted, he added a dried rosy flower that we had called Aaron's Rod, then gave each of us a cup. Harcos seemed to know of the brew (if not the sly addition) and smiled softly as if it were a nice, occasional luxury to be savoured but not expected.
The tea seeped into us as Pameten -- his deep voice becoming a part of the night's fabric, rich and deep and dark and lush -- told us the tales of the stars and the gods and monsters that lived there, brightly shining forevermore. Of Orion's eternal battle. Of the Great Dog chasing my friend, Zajak (actually, chasing a rabbit). Of the love of the Twins and the vanity of Cassiopeia. We were all at peace and I felt... floaty, completely happy with whatever God wished for me this night. Zajak was enthralled, staring at his master with unabashed adoration. I found myself leaning back between the thick legs of Harcos, staring upwards, the crown of my head resting in his crotch, surreptitiously revelling in his scent.
We went to the tents long after full-dark. Pameten and Harcos had decided on another full camp-day. I stood after removing my garment, sad and uncertain as Harcos stripped the camp-tunic over his head. He took a look at my forlorn face and softened. "Come to me, boy. You need to learn a lesson but you deserve a warm night for what you have done for my dear friend and his new boy."
I leapt into his arms and snuggled so quickly that Harcos laughed soft and low. He wrapped his arms and scent around me and I wriggled in delight. I felt my master slowly stroke my hair and literally, out loud, purred like a kitten, utterly fulfilled. We lay that way, spooned together, a big dog and a puppy for an immeasurable time before we started to hear soft sounds in the night.
Harcos and I tensed at first, then relaxed with a sigh (me) and a chuckle (Harcos) as the sounds resolved into the deep chuckle of Pameten and the baritone giggle that had to be Zajak. The petting of my hair stopped as we listened to the new lovers discover each other. I could imagine and relish each touch, each surprise, each revelation that Zajak felt. I thrilled at the sounds of Pameten as he brought such pleasure to his boy and wallowed in that pleasure himself.
I turned into my master's chest and wept, knowing he could fell my shudders. His grip loosened then tightened again. I pushed away and pulled my eyes to his. "I am sorry, my Ald-- my {sob} Harcos. You deserve what we both can hear." Without another word and ignoring his reactions, I dove down and began to fellate him. My hands went wild on his taint, every movement languid but urgent, desperate but slow, burning but content. No, that make no sense, but neither did what I felt and needed and wanted and regretted.
For the first time, I swallowed my master, my god, my Aldus past the back of my mouth and into my throat. I heard his soft whine of delight and was nearly undone as he yanked my body around like a doll and swallowed... everything. My cock, my balls, everything. I purred and growled around the invader in my throat, driving Harcos to new levels of need. I ignored (more or less) the divine bliss erupting form my own boy bits and focussed exclusively on the pleasure of my master.
It was strange. We both were devoted entirely to the pleasure of the other, driving each other to greater and greater heights. Something within me knew that that simple fold of flesh tween balls and ass was the key to Harcos. The pleasure built, and built and BUILT until it was unendurable. I lost this battle and exploded, screaming around the dick deep in my throat, which was the final trigger for the eruption of Harcos. The prolonged ecstasy had us both thrashing and rocking. I was weeping with joy around the shaft that unloaded my master's sacred seed. It was as if... I was home again after a long journey, a terrible experience, and unendurable trial. It was as if I was... whole.
Under the potion of Pameten, Harcos and the now-nameless boy re-join as the halves of the single soul that they well may be. But is one night, driven by the Blue Lotus and the Roseroot, enough to keep them together and overcome the dangerous sin of the young servant? We'll know more "tomorrow".
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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Karl & Greg: 21 chapters .../incest/karl-and-greg/ Canvas Hell: 18 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 10 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 11 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Off the Magic Carpet: 5 chapters .../military/off-the-magic-carpet/ Lake Desolation: 3 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/