Black Dragon Rising

By Michael Offutt

Published on Dec 20, 2013

Gay

This story is protected under international and Pan-American copyright conventions. Please remember to donate to Nifty if you're financially able to do so.

MY WEBSITE: http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/books.html

My email: kavrik@hotmail.com

My art: http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/my-artwork.html

Forum discussion thread: http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/discussion-board-for.html

Please check out my books on my website. If you want one, shoot me an email, and I'll send you a free electronic copy for a written review on Amazon.


Chapter Twenty-Seven

That night I tell Talen I'm not feeling well enough to sleep with him. It's a lie, but one I've to make in order to slip out and see Talisac. So my disappointed boyfriend finds another room to sleep in, and I've no one to blame but myself.

Sigh.

"I'm still recovering from the poison," I tell him. "I-I just think I need another night of rest before we...well...you know..."

"-Fuck?" he asks. He kisses me on the lips and teases me with his smooth slippery tongue. "I love you. We don't have to have sex, you know? I could just spoon with you all night. Wouldn't that be grand?" His eyes look so hopeful it almost makes me cancel my plans.

I really hate lying about this.

I hold him close so that he can smell me. "I can't be in the same bed and NOT think about shagging you. Trust me, this is for the best."

"All right," Talen says, albeit a bit glum. Then he retires for the evening while I run through my head the entirety of my plot to free Talisac without attracting anyone's notice.

I close my door, wait five minutes or so, and then blow out the candles. But I'm not turning in for the night. Instead I climb out the window and drop down from the roof near a copse of gooseberry bushes. Getting to my feet, I smooth out my trousers and run to where Talisac is being watched.

As I approach, I find Pink Hair guarding him.

This should be an easy enough problem to overcome.

I duck into the shadows and when he's not looking, I come up behind the gnome and strike him hard at a pressure point near the right temple. It's one that (on humans) knocks a man unconscious. It turns out that gnome anatomy is not much different because he responds exactly as intended and falls into the dirt near Talisac's boots.

The doctor holds up his hands for me to untie him.

"You're late," he says. "These curs have kept me bound and in one place all day. You owe your life to me, lad. Don't ever forget that."

I pick at the knot with my fingers until it comes loose. Then he stands up, leaning heavily on my shoulder. "Are you all right?" I ask.

"A bit stiff."

"So...how does this work? What must I do for you to be able to tell if the worm's dislodged from my brain stem?"

The doctor sneers. He smells of stale sweat and fish; it's rather unpleasant. "Let's go somewhere more private," he states. Near him is a pack containing some things he took from his laboratory under the mountain. He grabs it and swings it over one shoulder before pointing into the forest. "Shall we?"

I don't trust him, but it's not like I've a lot of options.

I nod; he takes lead. We disappear into the woods, and I make careful note of every landmark be it stone, moss-covered log, or creek. Even in the dark I should be able to find a huge boulder amidst a clearing. Nevertheless, we walk for an hour to the north, and it gets harder to recall my exact path with each passing step. Our heading takes us straight toward a hill that rises above the trees. There a pair of devil's horns made of granite serves to hold the silver moon captive between two rocky promontories.

At its base, he calls for a stop.

"Build a small fire," he orders, "over there in the shadow of that cliff wall. No one from the town will see it, and we need as much heat as we can get tonight."

I do so, silently gathering fallen branches in the crook of my arm while constantly aware that the good doctor is rummaging through his pack and withdrawing metal tools that gleam wickedly.

Somewhere in the forest, a wolf howls. Blood will be spilt tonight.

After the fire's going, he walks forward and picks out two trees growing almost on top of one another; he lashes rope between both. As he does this, my eyes are drawn to a mysterious orb that swirls with billowing smoke. He places it on a small cushion next to a box with a small red button on it. The surface of the box is adorned with lightning bolts made from mother-of-pearl.

"Do you like the Eye of Chagidiel?" Talisac asks.

I shrug. "What is it?"

"A journal of sorts," Talisac replies, tightening the rope. Next he attaches leather manacles to the ends. "I speak into it, and others who share my profession can review my notes."

"Notes? What kind of notes?" I ask, suddenly nervous.

"Patient notes," he states. "The procedure I'm performing on you tonight to locate the larva the mind lords placed inside your body is very unusual. What I say in my medical notes will benefit others."

"I didn't consent to this."

"I didn't ASK for your consent," Talisac replies. "This is non-optional."

I swallow. "Are you going to keep changing the rules of our agreement? If you do, I could just kill you now."

"My you are full of yourself," he replies. "I'd heard as much. I've promised to help you, and I'll do just that. You won't be permanently damaged by anything that transpires tonight. But I need your full cooperation. You also might keep in mind that the only reason I know how to do any of this is BECAUSE of that jewel. Flesh crafters of Chagidiel share knowledge only with each other and knowledge, dear boy, is power."

I swallow hard, but I've to admit that he makes for a good argument. "Fine."

"Good," he says, eyeing me from head to toe. "Now, I take great pleasure in saying this: get naked and come over here so that I can restrain you for the procedure."

Slowly, I peel off my clothes. The air is cool and it dries the sweat on my skin. When I'm almost nude, I walk over to him with just my boots on to shield them from pine needles and sharp rocks. He ties first my left and then right arm to the trees and then my ankles until I'm slightly spread eagled between the tree trunks.

"Why must I be cuffed?" I ask.

"You should've asked that BEFORE we started. But it's to keep you from lashing out at me while I invade your flesh."

"Is it going to be painful?"

"Very," he says. Then he gags me with a rubber ball attached to a strap that snaps to the back of my head.

Before he begins, Talisac picks up the swirling orb that he calls "The Eye of Chagidiel." Resting in his palm, a small black spot forms amidst the turbulent white clouds. I feel a strange presence; it's as if a hundred eyes look upon me. When that happens, Talisac speaks to it and his soft words describe me in a clinical and disturbing way.

"Subject is 6-feet in height, approximately 150-pounds with blond hair and blue eyes. He's Atlantean and naturally hairless with the exception of the appropriate patches located in his slender armpits and of course, around his sweet looking genitals. He possesses a cute quality I associate only with teenage virgins who've recently undergone puberty but lack the harsh gangliness associated with full adulthood. His feet are perfectly formed as are his hands and I have under great authority that they exude sexual pleasure from every pore. Even as I'm his doctor, I find myself wanting to kiss and lick them but I shall maintain my professionalism. The subject is more ripped than I thought possible. He possesses virtually no body fat, and the musculature on display before me is impressive. It's the kind you'd expect to find on the most extreme athletes who've starved themselves for a week.

"We are here to see if the grimlock brain larva has descended from the youth's spinal cord which raises the skin at the center of his back into a ridge. The young man has a provocative penis, made more so by how lean he is. It's covered in veins, measures almost 12-inches, and is uncut with a length of foreskin that swallows the glans entirely except for a small pink opening wherein hides his urethra that can eject royal jelly after only a minute of stimulation. It will have to be stretched out to remove the worm when it's finally descended into place. Please note that the hue of our subject's thin, yet silky pubic hair is so well-matched to his exquisite golden skin as to appear almost invisible. I'll now apply the device to his balls," he says, setting down the orb.

In the next instant, Talisac takes a leather harness and fastens it about my genitals. It has the effect of forcing my hardened dick away from my abdomen and into a more horizontal position. It's uncomfortable and pinches me some, but it doesn't cause pain. When he pulls his hands back, they're covered in my sweat.

"There, that's better," Talisac says. "The first part of the restraint is in position."

He does pause to lick his fingers. Fucking bastard.

But what did he mean by 'the first part?'

He reaches for a metal instrument and then carefully places it over my dangling, sensitive testicles. It feels dreadfully cold, and he closes it with an audible click. When he lets go, the weight causes immediate discomfort.

"The worm responds to pain," Talisac says, "so we'll have to induce pain for me to track its progress."

To my horror, Talisac inserts a tightening screw. Try as I might to adjust to a more comfortable position, the manacles and ropes hold me tight.

The hardened steel plates push steadily toward each other and my young, delicate balls are between them.

He turns the screw another revolution and pain floods my body.

I scream into the gag.

When they're close enough that they touch, the intense pain begins. I'm screaming so hard the back of my throat hurts. Sweat resulting from my agony breaks out all over my skin.

Please...I beg into the recesses of my mind, I'll DO ANYTHING. Just stop.

But Talisac can't hear my thoughts. Rather, there's only my wide, terrified eyes and these just make him laugh.

"We've only just begun, child," he teases, flicking one of my nipples with his finger.

He continues to turn the tightening screws. Does he wish to destroy me?

At last he stops, and my whole body quakes in the throes of pure torment. Talisac stands back to regard his work before picking up the sphere again.

"My subject glistens with sweat from the top of his cute blond head to his now shiny boots. I love the way the light catches on his body; it's quite beautiful."

I swing my legs violently but the restraints hold.

"I shall apply the sensitivity cream to his penis now," Talisac says. He pulls out a jar and rubs this clear gel into my skin. "The sensitivity cream will heighten any of the nerve signals from his erection, giving me full access to his nervous system the same as the larva possesses. Hopefully and with the aid of the lightning box, the worm will spasm enough that I can detect it."

As he continues to rub my dick, my erection hardens like steel in his hands and just massaging it back and forth makes precum drool from the tip. It's the most distressing and tender thing I've ever experienced.

"Next," the doctor says to the sphere, "is the application of our sound."

He grabs a shiny metallic object I recognize, the long and thin object he once inserted into my urethra. Carefully, he applies lubricant to its length and then approaches my penile opening, squeezing my cockhead delicately between thumb and forefinger for insertion. But whereas he inserted it one way before, this time he's turned it around.

"You'd best not move," he says, "or things we don't want to get cut may be damaged."

He forces the largest part into my organ, and it's so huge, there's some tearing and blood. Fuck does it hurt.

"We'll have to do this several more times," he states to the Eye, "before the larva can come out. He needs to have a much wider opening for the worm to be removed from his body intact."

I yell into the ball gag.

"A visible lump is now visible as I insert this into the boy's penis. Tracking it's path, I can see I have eleven inches to go before I get to my target. It's catching on something...I'll have to force it. There...that's better."

He pushes and tugs and pushes some more. Tears flow down my cheeks at the punishment he's wrecking on my genitals.

But when he gets it all the way embedded inside me, he slowly strokes my young cock, stretching and squeezing it with deliberate pressure. Many painful yet sweet sensations pummel my mind; I feel so confused.

"The sound is fully in place," he says, and I look down seeing that only a little of the metal extends from my lacerated opening.

Talisac sets the sphere down and then takes hold of the lightning box. Inside there are three wires. One of which he attaches to the end of the sound, while he clips the others to my ears.

"The patient's dainty ears are sufficiently primed with blood vessels to make this work. He's now ready. I place the lightning box as instructed and have one attached to the end of the sound while the others are now clipped to his lobes completing the circuit. I will now close it by pressing the button. It's quite possible my patient will go unconscious, but I'll be able to see the worm move if it's under the skin, thereby telling me how much more work is needed for it to descend properly into his scrotum."

It's as if time stands still; I'm absolutely terrified.

Talisac presses the button.

A powerful jolt of electricity fills my body with heat from a million tiny stings. I scream and lose control of my bowels. With shit running down my thighs, I collapse into darkness.

Talisac wakes me by splashing water on my face. I'm lying on the ground naked, and he's putting away his tools. My whole body aches and I'm wet with sweat. He throws me a towel to wipe up a few pieces of excrement that cling to my skin.

"Get dressed," he says. "It's only a few hours before morning."

"You fucking asshole," I say. As I pull myself to my feet, pain robs my body of strength and makes me spasm uncontrollably.

"Fucking asshole? Just remember that it was you who asked for this."

I reach for my trousers and begin to put them on. "Did you find it?"

"Yes," he says, putting the Eye of Chagidiel back into a velvet sack. "The larva has descended halfway down your spine. It'll take a couple of more weeks for it to get to where I can extract it."

I throw my shirt on. "I'm not letting you do this again."

He shrugs. "Then we'll just have to guess when it's the right time. You'll start to piss blood. That's the first indication that it's taken up residence in your balls. But getting it out will be hell. You'd be wise to stretch some more to make the passage easier."

"No," I say. "I hate that thing inside me. It's not how a dick's supposed to be worked."

He laughs. "What you went through tonight is tame in comparison to the tortures flesh crafters can visit on pretty boys like you. I was a professional, exactly as I promised. And you're unharmed. Instead of calling me names, you should thank me for putting up with you."

"You enjoyed yourself," I say. "That's thanks enough."

He sneers, "Indeed it is."

"Come on, let's get back to town," I tell him.

"I'm not going back with you," he replies.

I finish tying on my shirt and then ball my fist. "You've got no choice."

"Ah but I do, lad," he says. "You're going to let me go. I won't return to be tied up by those ruffians you call friends. Nor will I be subjected to their callous whimsy. In two weeks' time, I promise to find you to begin the surgery to remove the parasite. Until then, you know that you need to make your body an inhospitable place for it. Continue to watch your diet and reduce your body fat to as close to zero as you can get. You've made tremendous progress, and once I electrified your body I spotted the larva easily as a bump just to the left of your lower spine. On someone with more fat, I'd have seen nothing."

"How can I trust you?" I ask. "How do I know you'll find me?"

"You can't trust me completely," he says. "Consider this: I wanted to fuck you tonight and I didn't. I've wanted to rape you countless times, and I've had the opportunity but never took the bait. That should warrant a little trust, shouldn't it?"

I swallow. "Why haven't you?"

He shoulders his pack. "You're the most beautiful boy in the world," he says. "Anyone that denies it is stupid. It's a shame to hurt something so unbelievably gorgeous. But you'd be wise not to keep tempting me. A man's willpower only goes so far."

And with that, Talisac turns and leaves me there in the middle of the forest.

The next morning I awake to a stiff breeze and the resounding trumpet of horns from beneath my window sill. All of that horn blowing seems so out of place with the sky still draped in stars and the east only now turning a shade of rose as dawn hints at the coming day.

To my surprise, after last night's ordeal there's only a couple of small bruises marring my otherwise lovely genitalia. Quickly I dress, dashing cold water on my face and wiping my hands on a soft terry cloth by the wash basin. My ribs are a little less sore today and my right arm's almost fully healed.

I meet Talen outside my room.

He's wearing his skin-tight killsuit with his helmet cradled under one arm.

Talen hands me a sword and helps me strap it across my back. "It's from Karandras," he says. Then, sullenly, he looks me in the eyes. "Kian...there's some bad news I've got to deliver."

"What?" I ask, marveling at the weapon. I tighten my belt around the colorful tabard sewn from patches of yellow and red triangles. Is there a mirror around here somewhere?

"Talisac's escaped during the night. Someone knocked Pink Hair out and when he awoke, the doctor was long gone."

I pretend to look shocked. "Did anyone bother to track him?"

"Correldon said they headed north."

"They?"

Talen nods, "He and the one that set him free. Cory says it must have been an elf because of how light his footprints were."

"Kuanni," I say, voice trailing away.

"That's what Cory thinks." I can tell Talen wants to ask me something and is holding back until he finds just the right moment.

"What?"

"Did we really need him? I-I mean...you kept saying that you needed him for something? Is this bad that Talisac is no longer with us?"

I laugh. "Not at all. Good riddance, I say. He was nothing but trouble anyhow."

Talen breathes a sigh of relief and then hugs me. "I was hoping you'd say that."

He licks my neck and I give him a tender caress.

The two of us descend the steps and grab fresh-baked bread and biscuits covered in country gravy in the tavern on the main floor. The price is cheap: a mere copper farthing. While I'm ladling gravy over my biscuits with a fork, I notice one unit of twenty men lining up in formation before Karandras. I must say...the commander looks regal and crisp in his war garb; he should as he's sitting atop a well-oiled brown saddle with golden stirrups, and this on the back of a huge Clydesdale to boot. Each soldier is well-equipped too, sporting a thick leather breast plate, a round shield, and a short sword. Curiously, some examine their weapons half-heartedly while others play at them with zest.

What should I make of this?

Behind Karandras stands a train of wagons hauling another hundred men with medicinal supplies, surgeon's equipment, and stores of food. I wash my breakfast down with some water and then pick up my pack. Next, I search for Angelaria in the crowd but don't immediately spot her.

This vexes me. If she's in the company of Calvin, I'll be sorely disappointed. I might as well start with him though JUST to cover my bases. Jealousy, Kian, I warn myself. It's the green-eyed beast and you look better in blue. It's not that I distrust Angelaria, or that I even think this merchant has ANYTHING over me. But if anyone squirts a baby in her womb, it's going to be me.

All of these self-defeating thoughts are swiftly dismissed when I see her descend the stairs.

I guess I could have gone and knocked on her door.

The first thing she does is to walk over to me and press her body firmly to my back so that I can feel the warmth of her bosom in the hollow between my shoulder blades.

I feel better instantly. I'm such a fool; she wants me more than plants crave water.

Angelaria tickles the sides of my face with her fingers. "Your hair's growing out," she says. "I'd like a hirsute lover." She takes a big whiff. "And gods you smell good. Did you sleep well?"

I think it's awesome she finds my natural scent so appealing but what the hell does hirsute even mean?

When I don't answer immediately, Calvin seizes the opportunity like a carp snapping at bait. Where the fuck did he come from anyway? I need to pay closer attention to my surroundings.

"I sure hope not," Calvin says, from around a corner.

He's dressed in thick studded leather that's barely sufficient to straddle his girth. His arms are bare though; it's probably so he can show off his bulging muscles.

He walks over to us; his body produces a peculiar gait adapted from years of dealing with the immense size of his arms and legs. He claps me soundly on the shoulder, so much so that I almost fall against the future mother of my children.

Fuck is he ever strong.

"How are you my dear?" he asks Angelaria. "I trust that such a splendid woman found her quarters to be satisfactory? And did you not like the flowers that I paid to have sent to your room?"

I look at her accusingly; she ignores me for the moment.

"They're fine, dear," she says. "But I'm afraid that I don't like the scent of the wildflowers."

Calvin presses his lips together firmly. "I see. I'll take a note of that."

Talen joins us. "Pink Hair's finished eating. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm a little edgy. It looks like the commander's ready to move out. I think we should fall-in behind the main unit. That way, we can stay out of their way."

"These young men are certainly not dullards," Calvin states. "Angelaria, perhaps you'd like to ride with me on a horse."

"Thank you sir," she says, curtseying. "I hope it will not be a rough ride as I wish to keep my hymen intact."

That makes EVEN ME blush. However, Calvin's smile only grows more oily, if that's even possible. Oh you'd love to fuck her, wouldn't you?

"I'd no idea you were a virgin," he says.

"A girl needs to save herself for her husband."

I grip Talen by the shirt. "I don't think so. You and I are going to walk out in front. It'll be better that way."

"Okay, Kian" Talen says. "Ease up a little okay?"

"Sorry." I straighten his collar and strut outside, clenching my fist over and over again. This guy's really starting to bother me.

Karandras rides up, pulling a second horse by the bridle. "Do you like the sword?"

"Yes," I reply.

"Good. The weapon's Ercestrian," he says. "The cape of Ercestres lies far from here, so it's not to be taken lightly that you carry a weapon of such fine quality."

I shield my eyes from the first sun, which is just now peeking through the tops of the pine trees surrounding the village. "I fought an Ercestrian once and killed him. It happened when I was a prisoner amongst the mind lords of the deep."

This causes the commander to raise an eyebrow. "I'd not heard this of you, Kian. But it doesn't surprise me. Perhaps when we're done with this campaign you'll tell me how you escaped the slavery of the mind lords. It's said amongst the people of Balsora that to be enslaved by the mind lords is to suffer a fate worse than death. Their powers to control your thoughts are legendary and their depravity is well-known among the evils of this world."

"Well it's not without reason. S-sometimes my dreams are still haunted by the things I've seen down there." I take the reigns of the horse he offers and slip my boot within the stirrup and haul myself into the saddle.

"Ercestrian warriors are renowned in all the kingdoms of Wynwrayth as possessing the finest arms. There's a legend amongst the people of faraway Kandaleya of a root that grows in Ercestres. When mixed with other spices and fed to newborns, it changes their eyes to the color of gold and allows them to see things that no one else can see. Even magical things."

"Here in the west we call that ability 'true sight,'" Talen offers.

Talen rides up on a similar mount but it's to his heels that my eyes go. They're adorned with some beautiful spurs that accentuate the appeal of his feet. I find myself licking my lips.

"It's not a legend but fact," Talen says. "The herb's called goldroot, and it's prized among herbalists for its seasoning properties. But it's very expensive and difficult to maintain. Only the rich in Ercestres can afford it. Thus, only the nobility possess this perception that you've been describing. I used to have a friend in the library of Clothol who was Ercestrian. He told me about it once."

I pull out the sword that Karandras gave me and examine its mirror polish and extremely sharp blade.

"Ercestrian nobles operate the most successful smiths in the kingdom. They use only high quality metals that cool at different temperatures thus producing a slight bend to the blade. They also use their true sight to examine the weapons for any flaws that lie undetected to the naked eye. If they find them, they return it to the forge and start anew. Nothing ever leaves an Ercestrian forge unless it's perfect."

I re-sheath the weapon with a gesture of respect. "It's a wonderful gift, commander," I say.

"You know quite a bit about Ercestrian history," a familiar voice says from atop a white charger.

It's Correldon and he's dressed in gold chainmail. About his shoulders is his magnificent bow accompanied by an elven longsword. His feet are wrapped in knee-high suede boots and his gold chain is mostly hidden beneath a deep green cloak. "This is surprising considering your education."

It's a snide quip, but my Talen doesn't say anything to defend himself.

Cory, sometimes you're such an asshole. An asshole I wouldn't mind fucking mind you, but an asshole nonetheless.

"Ercestrians are perhaps the pinnacle of human society in the making of swords and weapons. But it's all crude when compared to my elven blade. This is to be expected since we've lost more knowledge as a civilization than your society has managed to piece together in the days since humans first learned to clothe themselves with animal skins."

"We're not here to debate issues of race," Karandras states.

Correldon watches me and Talen carefully. "No, commander, you're right. We're not here to debate matters of race. What I say is not up for debate. I'm simply stating a fact and maybe educating these young boys, since either of them know so little of actual history, much less sword making. I wanted to make sure that Talen knew the right and the wrong of it before he went repeating it to anyone else."

"Even if it were true," Talen offers, "History told by the elves is often colored by their less than humble perspective. But remember one thing Cory, it's not the sword that makes the man, but the man that makes the sword."

Correldon snorts derisively before turning and guiding his mount to the front of the column; Karandras follows him.

Soon, we begin to move out. It's a slow pace at first, but before long it quickens along the old road from Rendla Fee to the outpost at Wraith Watch some ten leagues distant. It's going to be an interesting day and I intend to make the most of it.


I shall post Chapter 28 the week after New Year's. Have a Happy Holiday, and I'll see you in 2014. In the meantime, if you'd like to read more of Kian's adventures, I've another story that I've completed that I'd love to get some opinions on. Let me know by email, and I'll send you the full pdf to read. It's been edited to completion and would be my Christmas gift to you, my faithful readers.

Next: Chapter 28


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate