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.
The men laughed uproariously at the expense of Bu's knot-tying abilities. I pulled the petrified P'yetury toward me; the laughter had unnerved him more than the weapons. "Come, let's get the grime off you. Romans hate dirt. Then you will have food before they decide what is to be done with you. I can promise this, though: From that reaction, it will mean a better lot than you had last sundown."
The Heathens 28: Quicksilver & Sanctuary
By Bear Pup
I spoke with P'yetury as we walked to a point where the bank was rocky enough that we wouldn't get dirtier cleaning up than we'd started. I had with me a small cake of potash-soap. He was bright but a complete smartass, as quick with a compliment as an insult and for all his deep suffering maintained an uninjured soul. We waded into the creek and I had him simply lay on the rocks under him as the water washed across his body, the stream suddenly markedly darker after it passed us. The water wasn't cold, but neither was it a Roman Bath. When his teeth started to chatter, I had him stand and started washing him, first with hands, then with a tiny bit of the soap.
He had said his mother and sisters were killed a week ago, and it had been a week before that when they last had an actual meal. His body bore witness. The grime had about a week's intensity (as did his stink), but it was clear that his family had lived cleanly and carefully. I was most astonished when I started to clean his cock and balls. Caked with grime as he'd been, I'd guessed him to have perhaps ten summers based on his size and frame. If that were true, they grew them fast in these hills!
He had a thick mat of hair which, it seemed, had been trimmed or removed entirely but had started, perhaps a week or so ago, to regrow. It surrounded small but well-dropped balls and his dick was... well, a little bigger than my own (which didn't really please me to be honest). He seemed completely hairless except for his crotch, ass, legs and armpits, all of which had about the same length of thick black fur.
"P'yetury, how old are you?"
"I will have sixteen summer this year. Why?"
"You seem, well, you seem..."
"Like a little boy? Yes. We are small, and the lack of food these last five years had stopped my growing much. My... m-m-m-m-my family had me remove my hair each day so that I might pass for a youth, too young to be dragged off to fight for or against the Might of Rome." His frown vanished and a slight twinkle came in his eye, "Anyway, I hate the hair. I love it on-- um, I mean, I understand why men may like it as a mark of their virility and manliness, but I think on me it looks revolting."
Not much of an ass on this one, I thought, but so very nice. Cleaned, P'yetury was not pretty, but had a sort of... 'cuteness' which seems so demeaning, but so utterly apt. It wasn't the beauty of Lavic or the sexual curves of Billen -- certainly not the last on this bony creature -- but I could seem to sense a vibrant energy underneath that might blossom if he were fed and cared for.
I continued to wash, at last clearing down to the skin itself. It was fine and smooth, if sun-beaten. He stiffened slowly as I washed his taint and ass-crack and blushed cutely. "You know, you almost covered that slip, my new friend-P'yetury." I let a soapy hand start to play with his growing erection while the other continued to wash up and down his shallow trench.
"I don't know what you mean, friend-Kucuk." He was a good actor as well.
I leaned in toward his ear and he tried to pull away and look at me, not successfully since I had his ass in one hand and balls in the other at that moment. "I like hairy men, too. It is one reason I love my Harcos so much." I started to actually frig his erection. "Sooooo much hair. Huge dick, big paws for hands. A bear of a man. A very, very masculine warrior is my barbarian." P'yetury was squirming now, my words warm in his ear and my hands doing very nice things to the rest of him.
"You saw them, friend-P'yetury," I cooed. "Which would you pick? The giant Sziklak so like my own master? The smooth and immaculate Cat? Which man lights this fire that I feel?"
"Oh, by God Himself. I starved to death, yesterday, didn't I? And this is the G-G-G-G-G-G-G-ate of Heav-v-v-v-v-v-v-ven!? Which? Um? Which? The one who h-h-h-h-held me, he is the one! The fast man with the pelt of dark fur but lean and so terribly stron-n-n-n-n-n-n-ng. Oh! Oh, keep doing that."
"I will. You want to know a secret? That great warrior, Bu he is called, is without a servant of his own and," I sped my ministrations, "has one of the greatest talents in boy-love in this part of the Empire. And he smiled at you, P'yetury, at you." I drew the last word out as a blow of warm wind into his ear and P'yetury whined and unloaded. I was a bit shocked. His orgasm was intense, near to violent, but his explosive effusion was weak, watery, and had only a couple shots. I was to learn much later that starvation did that to a man.
I had to nearly carry my new friend -- and I actually considered him such for reasons I cannot to this day explain -- back to the camp. The orgasm, so long delayed and so intense, sapped what few resources his poor body retained. I got odd glances from several of the men, to each of whom I gave A Look before settling the nearly insensate boy on a rock. I filled a bowl with the nourishing gruel and begged a favour from Furge to feed him one mouthful at a time, each followed by a sip of water. I sought out Bu.
I cornered the noble-born 'simple warrior' as he returned from his morning call of nature. "You are a good man. Harcos has said so and I have seen it. This boy, this P'yetury, is weak and untrained and nearly broken. But he has a beautiful soul. I don't know what your gods think of souls, but his is untarnished."
Bu smiled at me, a little sadly. "And what would you have me do, Kucuk? What do I do with an untarnished soul?"
"Feed him, train him, do for him what Harcos did for me and, and, and for other young men out of their depth in a terrifying world turned upside down. Be his sanctuary, his mentor, his guide into manhood." I saw that struck home. He stared at me for the longest time, never losing my gaze.
"I will do this thing, at least until we find a place for him to be."
I bowed in front of him and kissed his hand, which he snatched away laughing. I stood and whispered, "I knew you would. Oh, I forgot to mention. He has fallen for a warrior, the one he says is so powerful and strong and yet lean, with thick dark fur and flashing eyes and a ringing laugh. The one, he said, that is the first true man he has seen in far too long. I am unsure which one he meant. Have you any ideas?" His eyes were burning by that point. "Oh, and he has sixteen summers, the body of one with only ten and the cock and balls of one with twenty... not that you would want to know such things." I turned and walked away, relishing the sighed whimper that I could just barely hear behind me.
The fourth day's march was tougher as we faced more and more of the foothills of the mountains that we would eventual have to crest. P'yetury rode in Pameten's cart reluctantly before realising that he, in truth, could never have kept pace. He was supplied with a constant stream of small things to eat, never enough to turn his stomach, and a constant stream of small compliments and cooings from Bu that, as I or Volot had to translate them, was far more than enough to turn our stomachs.
Volot and I also speed-taught P'yetury the gutter Latin of the Legion. Volot shocked me to the core by tying things together so simply. Volot was not bright, he frankly wasn't even smart, but he learned by finding connexions and working outwards. By the end of the day, P'yetury was probably at the same place I was on my third or fourth day with Harcos. He could communicate the basics, especially the sexual ones which he sought with a fierce eagerness each time Bu moved out of earshot.
When we would normally have taken luncheon, we found ourselves in an area of worked fields with far too many watchful eyes. Even I could feel the tension, the fear, the stress around us. These were people afraid for a reason, and it was undoubtedly a reason we did not wish to meet. We ate on the march, barely escaping the miasma of dread as the sun started to touch the mountaintops to our west.
We finally stopped when we topped a long incline to a flat area. We could simply go no farther and everyone knew it. The men set up the camp and perimeter as the boys, including a boredom-energised P'yetury, set about the evening meal which needed to be very filling to make up for the lunch. We quickly relegated the exhaustingly keyed-up P'yetury to the collection of about ten times the firewood we needed just to get him out from underfoot. Bu, unsurprisingly, was simply charmed by the boy's antics. This did not increase the level of contentment amongst the rest of us.
Dinner was actually surprisingly-successful. Grubo was a wizard for making cured meat taste fresh and Billen had a deft hand with spices. With my own local herbs, we made a great team. Ghamad and Lavic worked magic with the ground grains for a bread that didn't even taste like a fire in a mill (a real accomplishment). Volot provided the power for pounding meats and kneading dough. Furge and Pyrkagia handled all the other things that made camp work. The men were, of course, satisfied and happy if a little on edge.
Harcos had drawn first watch, so I had the unimaginable joy of Sentry Dick Duty as Harcos guarded the camp. I counted eleven times in those four hours when Harcos cued me to hold still and wait. In most cases, he was simply too close, but three of the times he was nowhere near completion and, thus, I knew he sensed some potential danger. Both were thrilling and frustrating in the extreme. What stunned me was that, when the single-bowled clepsydra said it was time for watch change, Harcos did not allow me to bring him off.
We swapped with The Skink and Grubo and I hobbled back to our tent, my 'third leg' complicating any attempt to walk normally. We got to the tent and Harcos looked at me severely and I quailed. What had I done?
"Kucuk, you convinced Bu to take in the orphan this morning." His voice was flat and uninflected.
"Y-Y-Y-Y-Yes, my Aldus. He is, is, is a pure soul. Did I, um? Was that not right?"
He pulled me to him and stripped off my camp shirt. "You did a wonderful thing. You might not have heard it from your.... position, but Bu lived up to the Owl name with interest. You, my Dasqas, have lived up to the name of jewel."
I nearly wept. "And as such, you deserve a real reward." I waited, breathless, as he stretched behind him for a small pot. He reached out and took hold of me, treating my body like a toy dolly. I was on my knees in front of him instantly with no real understanding of how. Then again, I didn't want any understanding as his paws pushed grease into my ass and he cooed and complimented me lavishly.
When his dick finally entered my inner sanctum -- after far, far too much foreplay -- I was desperate with need and he knew it. He played to that need, that craving, teasing me to make me scream at him to get on with it. Harcos proceeded to fuck me so slowly, so deeply, that I was crying with need, the slow torture of the pleasure driving me to madness. It was so intense I did not recognise the approach of my own orgasm until I was pumping my seed onto blankets and grunt-howling with each explosion.
And my perfect and wondrous master, that absolute fucking bastard, did not vary his pace one whit. He sawed in and out, but now reached beneath me and took my nipples into his huge, rough fingers, scraping, pinching and twirling them. My breath was coming in short, shivering pants now. Finally, I heard Harcos begin to emit short, deep growling moans, grunts of pleasure. He was fighting his own orgasm and his muscles quivered with the strain of not simply plundering my ass. Finally, his growls became strangled and I could feel a single pulse along the shaft. Harcos gave in, then, and plunged into me, roaring his release. I felt his load explode into my love nut deep inside and I wailed as another handless orgasm wracked my own body.
I woke before light and squirmed into position. Harcos was partly on his side and I nursed him to drink his morning piss. He mumbled in his sleep as he released into me and I drank fully, adoring the acrid nightwater of my master. He still had not woken but just murmured in his sleep as I nudged him gently onto his back so I could suck him off. My ass suddenly tingled and itched with need for him again and I thought, 'Why not?'
I renewed the grease in my ass and, silently as a mouse, straddled Harcos' wide frame. I sat back slowly, guiding his huge prick to the place I needed it most, sheathed in my own ass. I grunted as the head hit me, and threw my own head back when it breached the ring guarding my secret entrance, stifling a keen of pain. I could not contain a yelp aloud as I pushed deeper and had to stop to get use to the invader. I had drastically underestimated the value of Harcos' extended foreplay. I watch my sleeping master's eyes flick back and forth under their lids and wondered what he was seeing in his dream as his body fed me what I craved as I slowly sank deeper and deeper onto him.
My ass suddenly felt the wiry bush surrounding the club that had so quickly become essential to me. I had the root of Harcos where he (and I) needed it to be, within the deepest temple of my body and my soul. Just then, Harcos gave a loud groan and came snortingly awake, eyes wide and senseless for a moment as he realised that his dream, whatever it had been, had morphed into seeing his puppy furiously impaling himself on his fiery cock, rising and falling, whimpering and whining. He threw his head back in another epic groan as he began to thrust up with an urgent need. I stopped moving and let him fuck himself into me.
I let out a surprised yelp when his sweat-wet hand grabbed my cock and began to frig me in time to his thrusts. There was no art to this, now, none of the restraint of the night-time. We raced each other to completion. My seed blasted forth, splattering his face as those same, powerful, eruptive contractions brought my master to his own morning eruption. I hurriedly licked Harcos clean and grabbed a cloth to cleanse his sweat as I feasted on the cum and assjuice that coated his mighty spur. In turn, he reached forward and wiped up and down my trench, capturing the worst of what was leaking from me.
After getting Harcos dressed, I scurried to the edge of the camp where we'd dug a small latrine trench and voided myself, cleaning up as best I could. I found that I was suddenly joined by a bouncing bundle of energy, a very self-satisfied P'yetury who set about the task I'd just finished.
He turned to me, breathless, "He let me, l-l-l-l-l-let me suck on his manhood! I'd n-n-n-n-n-never thought of such a thing! It was marvellous, Kucuk. I owe you everything, not just my life but my ultimate pleasure. I will repay you, I swear it!"
"You owe Bu your loyalty and your life, friend-P'yetury, not me. All I did was let you each see what you needed. You and he did all the rest."
"No. You are a gift from the One True God, Kucuk." I startled, suddenly scared. "Be at peace. Like you, I am within the Brotherhood of Christ. I am called Yosef in temple. May I, may I know your true name?"
"I threw away the hateful name my twisted family gave me and have not been to a Mass to take a new one."
"What will you take, my brother?"
"Whatever God wills." I knew, but could not say, that God had already willed and given me my sacred name through the Dream-Strasta weeks before. I would become Szentély, the sanctum in which Harcos' heart could dwell in safety. I knew, now, finally, that Strasta had spoken truth. Harcos and I were meant to be joined, he my saviour and me his sanctuary.
Big thanks to Beta Readers Rob Caldwell and Dietrich who made this story readable.
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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Canvas Hell: 34 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 26 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 28 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Lake Desolation: 19 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/ Culberhouse Rules: 11 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/ Raven's Claw: 9 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/ Ashes & Dust: 4 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/ Maybe Next Time: 4 chapters .../authoritarian/maybe-next-time/