Reply-To: an332657@anon.penet.fi
Disclaimer: This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving minor boys. If this type of material is illegal in your area, or if you are under 18, please stop reading now and delete this file from your computer. If you are not interested in stories involving sex with young boys, stop reading now. Few things are sillier than supposedly sensible adults reading material they find offensive after they have been warned in advance about its content, and then flaming the writer.
If, however, you enjoy stories involving boys and sex, and you are legally allowed to do so, then read on!
"Ember River" is a fantasy that takes place in a world resembling Earth in a somewhat post-apocalyptic landscape. It involves a group of young, prepubescent boys who are remarkably muscular and strong (the reasons for this are explained in the story). The idea for this story was developed by me (Lead Guitarist) and a friend whose input I wish to acknowledge here but whose name I will not reveal for obvious reasons. He knows who he is.
This is Chapter 1 of an as-yet-indefinite number of chapters. I hope you enjoy it! Comments, suggestions, ideas, etc. are always welcome; flames will be ignored. Let me hear from you! My address is an332657@anon.penet.fi.
Ember River by Lead Guitarist
chapter 1
This is a tale of strength, of the glory of the muscles of boys, and may the Muse lead me to tell it well. I am Quill, so called because I can write. I am your servant and I hope my tale pleases you.
For those of you who are not of our valley, I should explain who we are. We are the boys of the Ember River. Our valley is the only place known where the Ember River trifoil herb grows, for the trifoil requires our climate and the minerals that flow in our river, and this combination exists nowhere else. The trifoil is to our bodies what our love is to our souls: it is the source of our strength. Trifoil makes a young boy's muscles respond to exercise to a far greater degree than they would without trifoil. For some reason we do not understand, the herb has no effect on anyone who is not a boy too young to have his groin-hair. But we are boys, we exercise our bodies, we eat the trifoil, and our muscles acquire size and strength enough to enable us to defend our valley and ourselves against the ravages of the enslavers and the other marauders who seek to take from us what is ours and what we are.
That is sufficient for now. I shall now proceed to my task, in the hope that if anything I write raises questions in you that I have not answered above, that you will find the answers soon enough in the subsequent text.
Chain, the chief of all Ember River boys, has charged me with the task of writing this. This is the story of the heroism and strength of Spark and the boys he led to the city of Eisen to replenish the Ember River trifoil. Chain wishes this told because the younger boys need their history, but I think he will not mind if I include the details which are of interest to me. I was there with Spark and the others, and I shall wish to tell of our love, and how when the strength of our muscles proved insufficient, that love we all shared kept us whole and pulled us through.
I shall not detain you long with details about me, for I am not the hero of this story, but I shall tell you this: I am eleven years old, and I pride myself that I am among the strongest boys my age. I can fight well. My hair is black, my thong is white, I am ink on the page.
Spark is my greatlove. He is not much older than I am; he only turned twelve a month before this story begins. But even by then he had built his strength beyond that of any boy besides Chain. Please allow me to describe Spark in detail; I wish to dream of him, of his beautiful muscles, and besides, he deserves every word I am able to lavish on him.
As I said, Spark is my greatlove, and nothing gives me greater pride and honor than this. He stands maybe a half-thumb taller than I do, and wears his dandelion hair long; I cannot keep from giggling when he pins me to the ground and shakes his hair in my face. His skin tans even more darkly than mine does. And his eyes are such a bright, icy blue that his glance is enough to shock me. Those eyes are the eyes of a born commander: even when he laughs, which is delightfully often, his brilliant eyes drill the soul to the core, always seeing more than you wish to show. I am in love with his eyes.
And I am in love with his body. He was born lean, his hips as slender as mine, but his young shoulders are wide and square. His chest is somewhat larger than mine, as well, but his waist is as tight, and even more deeply etched with muscle than mine. His long, glistening brown legs are hard, charged with thick, carved muscle, possessing daunting strength. And yet his legs are still as supple and as flexible as those of boys years younger: Spark is a boy who seems ageless, keeping the virtues of young boys almost into his adolescence.
I used to rise early, in the twilight of the dawn, just so that I could watch Spark emerge from Chain's tent, naked with his clean thong in his hand, and go to the river to bathe. I would follow, hoping that he wouldn't notice, and my knees would weaken when I saw Spark raise his young arms high and stretch, slowly and with all the indulgence of a young cougar. I would watch his torso, that living vessel of all that is beautiful in the muscles of a boy, as he flexed his bulging arms, his hard, proud chest, his muscle-cabled back, and it seemed to me that even the rising sun flooded our valley with dawn only to light Spark's body, as if the sun itself deferred to the glow of the boy's muscles. I saw how the dawn's shadows flowed across his body, the shadows of muscles in the hollows that separate muscles, how the shadows led my gaze from his strong shoulders down his back to the cleft of his perfect shadowed buttocks, and I was smitten with love.
A few times he saw me watching. "Quill!" he would call happily. "It's a great morning, isn't it?" And I would stumble over my words trying to answer him. He would smile in the dawn and the sun would flash from his beautiful white teeth, and from his brilliant eyes, and glint from the gold in his hair, and I thought how right is was that this boy was called Spark ... in those dawns, everything about him seemed about to blaze forth, to catch the day's fire and to burn bright as the sun. And I was smitten with love.
If he saw me watching, and greeted me, I would bathe in the river with him. I am clever with jokes and I would make him laugh, which was easy for he had such easy humour, and when he laughed I would feel as though I was being warmed by his spirit. His laughter would bless me.
But I could never approach Spark. He was to be the next chief - everyone knew that and had known it for as long as I could remember. And that meant that he was Chain's lover. And Chain was my chief, the strongest boy of all of us, and my respect for him made me keep my distance. It is not seemly for a boy to seek the love of the boy who loves the chief. So I would stay away, trying to keep the despair in my heart from showing on my face, and I would try to find solace in my exercise and my writing.
I also found solace in Sun-Boy. I love Sun-Boy and everybody knows that. Everybody else loves Sun-Boy, too. And Sun-Boy loves us all, with that all-encompassing love and gentleness that is unique to him, that makes him so special. I shall describe Sun-Boy here, for he deserves his space and I enjoy writing about him.
Nobody knows where Sun-Boy came from. A group of our boys found him when they were out watching the east road: they heard a child's cry from behind a bush and found a boy there who did not appear to have yet seen his first birthday. He was naked and bore no paint or tatoo or mark of any kind, and no tracks were found near him, so nobody knows how he came to be there or who left him. It was as if he was the son of the bush that sheltered him. That was a little over nine years ago. We don't know Sun-Boy's birthday, so we pretend that it's the summer solstice. He turned ten by this reckoning four months ago.
Sun-Boy has dark skin, a strange but beautiful golden-copper skin, and hair like nobody else's. His hair is straight, incredibly thick, and long enough to reach more than halfway down his back. And it is a shining silver-white color, a color like no other hair I have ever seen. He sweeps it back from his face, behind his ears, and lets it fall in a thick, full mane down his back, and somehow it seems to stay there all day, no matter what kind of play, sport, or other activity Sun-Boy gets into. He has high cheekbones and a little upturned nose, like the nose of a much younger boy, and a constant, shining smile that beams happiness. His eyebrows are the same silver-white as his hair, and so are his remarkably long lashes, and his eyes are like the brightest emeralds. He never wears anything but his sun-yellow thong. It fit him perfectly last summer but it is now too small for his growing boy-parts, and when he gets a horn on this garment is hard pressed to contain it. He is so beautiful that even those who have known him all his life stare in wonder when he appears.
And yet Sun-Boy is like no other ten-year-old. He is of normal height, but his strength is extraordinary even among us. He is stronger than all of the eleven year olds, including me, and most of the twelve year olds, too. He is nearly as strong as Spark. For such a young boy his muscles are tremendous. I am a year older than he is, and fully three thumbs taller, but his biceps are bigger than mine. I admit that for a time this bothered me; I was jealous of Sun-Boy's muscles.
I overcame this because Sun-Boy loves me. I shall digress for a while and tell you how this came about.
I made friends with Sun-Boy, as I make friends with all the boys, when I helped him learn to write. He was only eight then, and I was nine, and while I was enamored of his beauty we never went beyond the kind of boyish hugs and mock-wrestling all the boys engage in. At the time I do not believe I understood the depth and wonder of Sun-Boy's soul.
Four weeks before we ventured on our expedition we had one of our Ember River wrestling tournaments. We have these tournaments often, so that the boys can test their own strength against each other and so that Chain and the other older boys can determine who among us is the strongest. Our strength, our muscles, are our glory and our pride, and so all of the boys take the wrestling seriously.
I was eleven, and so I wrestled the elevens, and had defeated all of them except Leo, whose strength is, I think, not as great as mine but whose skill is greater. Leo is a boy who practices his wrestling and fighting skills a great deal. He managed, after a long match, to make me submit, and I bowed to him. There is no shame in losing to Leo. I have great respect for his strength and his skill.
I was not surprised to learn that Sun-Boy had defeated all of the tens. He was and is a boy who looks strong enough to wrestle a full-grown bull: his body is packed with thick, full, rippling muscle so strongly developed for such a small young boy that even in the Ember River valley jaws drop when he flexes. I have lived all my life among young boys whose muscles are developed to an extreme most people have never imagined, and my own muscles are impressive even among us, but I must admit that even I have never seen muscles as big, as hard, as powerfully developed on a boy younger than I am as Sun-Boy's. And I have only very rarely seen muscles more massively powerful than his even on older boys. But I was not prepared to see how easily he defeated elevens who had given even me trouble. Boys who were much bigger than Sun-Boy, who had nearly beaten me, found his strength overwhelming.
Ember River by Lead Guitarist
chapter 1 (part b)
It came time for the match between Sun-Boy and myself. I was not worried at this point. My muscles felt and looked awesome after my previous matches; my heart pounded blood into them and swelled them to their best size. It was a warm day and the heat and the exertion of wrestling had given my body a sheen of sweat, and as I sipped a little water, standing there naked but for my thong, I felt great.
Chain called for us to begin, and I advanced to the center of the ring. I knew Sun-Boy would be pumped from his matches as well, but I had not yet seen him. My penis was stiffening just from the thought of him, and my balls hung low, flushed full of blood, filling my little thong out well. I swung my arms a bit, loosening my muscles, feeling warm and strong and ready. I could not wait to meet Sun-Boy in the ring.
He appeared, and I must admit that immediately my confidence began to fade. He was shorter than I was, smaller, and his little-boy face wore a beautiful smile. He stood at the edge of the reed-mat ring and stretched his strapping young body out, easing his awesome boy-muscles, flexing them. And I was astonished. He raised his face to the sky, eyes closed, and swept his long, sweaty, silvery hair back over his ears, and as he did so his biceps seemed to almost burst from his arms, his lats rippled and swelled, his bulging boy-pecs flexed and throbbed with the motion of his arms. His abdominal muscles shone in the sun, rippling their strength all the long way from his breastbone to the low-slung waistband of his indecently-tiny thong. His little penis was stiff, straining against the fabric, and I almost fainted with desire as I watched him open his eyes to look at me, grin, and adjust his thong for greater comfort. Sun-Boy had such an unbelievably exciting, erotic young-boy physique that I felt almost as though his beauty, the vision of his muscularity, blinded me.
"Ready yourselves!" called Chain. Sun-Boy and I took our places, naked but for our thongs, in the center of the ring.
"Go!"
Sun-Boy charged me immediately, wrapping his strong arms around my waist. Bracing himself, he lifted me high, turned me over, and slammed me down onto the mats. His speed had surprised me, but I was not winded. I suddenly jackknifed my body, bringing my knees up hard into Sun-Boy's abdomen, and the force broke his hold. He tried to roll away, but I was too quick and managed to wrap my legs around his waist. I thought I had him as I began to squeeze, for several strong boys had already submitted to me today when clamped in my scissor-hold. I strained against him, my sweaty thighs bulging, waiting for him to wave for Chain to stop the match. But I had underestimated him.
He reached his hands behind himself for leverage and managed to sit up, my muscular legs still wrapped around him, and with a powerful burst of energy he got his feet under him. I did not know what he was trying to do, but whatever it was, I didn't think it would help him.
I had Sun-Boy gasping for breath, his muscle-charged young physique shaking. My confidence increased: of course I could beat Sun-Boy - he's only ten! For all his muscles, he cannot hope to match my strength. I grinned tightly, watching my own thighs flex, my abdominal muscles ripple with my breathing. My penis was stiff and throbbing, for exercising my own muscles always makes me horny, and besides, Sun-Boy, glorying in the incredible development of his own muscles, was the sexiest little boy I had ever seen.
Sun-Boy twisted slightly and reached an arm under my clenched, hard buttocks. His bicep tightened into a thick, steely swell of boymuscle as he lifted my body slightly, sliding his leg under my body to give him balance. His breath was coming in short little bursts; I could tell that the strength of my hold was wearing him down. But he still had great depths of strength left.
He took the deepest breath he could, his face grimaced and darkening with blood. He was steeling himself for something, gathering all his incredible strength. Suddenly he surged up, lifting and twisting, every muscle swollen to its utmost strength, actually leaping into the air and carrying me with him. With unbelievable power he flipped me over, slamming my face hard into the mat, and the force of the blow momentarily caused me to loosen my scissor hold. In a flash his sweat-slick little muscled body had squirmed free, and he stood up to catch his breath.
The boys watching whooped and hollered their approval. "Yeah!" they cried. "Way to go, Sun-Boy!"
Sun-Boy smiled and adjusted his thong. I could see that his little penis was as stiff as it could get. Playfully he flexed his biceps, and those little-boy muscles just exploded into bulging, jagged knots of swollen sinew.
I stood up, my penis painfully stiff in my thong as I gazed at Sun-Boy's eye-popping muscles. I had new respect for his strength now.
I decided to take the offensive. I leapt at him, seized one of his arms, and twisted it around behind his back in a hammerlock. I forced it up, increasing the pain, hoping to make him submit quickly. But I was in for another surprise, for I had again underestimated his strength.
I was lifting him almost completely off the mat as I waited for his submission. But with astonishing power, using only his tricep muscle, he raised his body up, relieving the pressure. I was supporting his weight on my hands, and it occurred to me later that I could easily have dropped him, but I did not. With his young-boy agility he swung his legs high over me and quickly clamped his thighs around my head. I found myself with my nose almost buried in his bulging thong, staring along the stiff, cloth-covered shaft of his penis, along the deeply-cut rippling abdominal muscles, over the strong, swollen pectorals, into his impish little face. He was grinning at me as he increased the pressure. His thighs bulged against my neck, impeding the flow of blood to my head, and I knew that if I could not escape his scissor hold within a few seconds, that I would black out, and lose the match.
I was leaning back slightly to maintain my balance as I supported his weight. So now I pitched forward, diving to the mat, slamming Sun-Boy's body face down beneath me. He maintained his hold, but had to catch himself with his hands to avoid taking the impact on his head. Now he lay stretched beneath me, my hard penis grinding into his back, between his shoulder blades. With all the strength I could muster I pushed up against the mat, forcing him to arch his back, and using my flexibility to the fullest, I managed to swing my legs around in front of me, so that I could use their strength to help me raise my head. I began to sit up now, my buttocks on Sun-Boy's back where my penis had been, and he was finally forced to release his hold so that his back would not snap.
I confess that I perhaps wasted a second or two in this position, for I was entranced by the beauty and flexing muscularity of Sun-Boy's naked buttocks. I was feeling sexually charged, my penis stimulated by the friction it had felt against his back, and now the vision of his wonderful boy-ass, glistening with sweat and vibrant with muscle, brought me almost to orgasm. My penis jumped a couple of times in my thong, fighting to tear through the stretched fabric, before I remembered that I was still involved in a contest of strength with this younger boy - one which he had just come close to winning.
With a burst of power he bucked me off his back. I sprawled on the mat as he flung himself on top of me, rolling me onto my back and sitting on my belly. He seized my hands in his and forced them to the mat beside my head. This is a very easy hold to escape, normally; you simply raise your legs up and scissor your opponent's head from behind, but Sun-Boy countered my attempt at this by lying prone on top of me, his muscled young chest bulging against my own, and his penis almost grinding into mine through our thongs. I was so horny I thought my penis was going to explode, and it seemed that he was, too. He forced my arms out to a spread-eagle position and began twisting my wrists backwards. Now I knew what he was up to: this was the hold with which he wanted to make me submit. It was a strange choice, for it did not involve any great skill; rather, it was purely a contest of strength between us: the strength of his muscles trying to twist my arms until the pain was too great, and the strength of my own muscles trying to resist him.
I strained against his strength. The muscles of my shoulders, lats, chest, and arms fought his, as the grip of his small hands tightened like bear's jaws around my wrists. I felt the hardness, the swollen power, of the muscles of his body as he lay struggling against me, and I felt my own muscles surge to their utmost power, throbbing with my full strength as I fought his grip. It seemed to me that we were locked in our struggle for an hour, our sweat mingling and running between our panting, quivering bodies, soaking our thongs as they strained to contain our hot, swollen cocks. I could feel Sun-Boy's hot, quick gasps on my face as he could feel mine; our lips were perhaps only an inch apart. We stared into each other's eyes as we fought, and I saw a will there in his eyes that I had never suspected. And I could not budge him.
At last I began to tire. I did not want to betray my fatigue to him, so I redoubled my efforts, gaining perhaps a tiny fraction, but he reached deep into his reserves of strength and matched me. Then, as my own strength began to fail, he slowly forced my arms around and made me feel the pain. Struggle as I might I could not stop him. My strength, the pride of my young life, was not great enough to defeat the strength of a boy younger than I. I grimaced, my eyes tightly shut, as I poured my last strength into the fight, but he continued to overpower me. Finally, at long last, I could stand the pain no longer.
"I give!" I gasped. "Chain! I give!"
Sun-Boy instantly released the pressure, relaxing himself entirely. I opened my eyes and saw triumph in his, and then, to my great surprise, he leaned his beautiful face down to mine and kissed my full on the lips. I felt his tongue, but kept my mouth closed, not letting him in. I was ashamed, and I had to deal now with my shame.
He sat up on my belly, caught his breath, and stood. The boys watching were cheering him as Chain raised his hand in victory. I rolled over, got to my hands and knees, and struggled to stand myself. And it was a struggle: I was not until then aware of how much of my strength the match had taken, and how drained I was. I embraced Sun-Boy to congratulate him on his victory, then I left the ring.
I do not know how long I sat on the bank of the river, facing my weakness, but the sun was low in the west when I finally felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Sun-Boy. The fiery will had subsided from his eyes, replaced by the gentle smile I was so familiar with. I gave him a weak smile of my own.
"How did you do in your next match?" I asked.
"Spark beat me. He's a lot stronger than I am."
"Mmm."
A pause. I was hoping, I think, that he would go away and not rub my nose in my defeat. But he did not. "Quill?" he asked.
"What?"
"May I sit here with you?"
"Sure, I guess."
He sat on my right, close enough that our legs almost touched. "I tried to kiss you."
"I know." There may have been a taint of venom in my voice, but I do not think I intended it. I had no ill-will for Sun-Boy. I was angry with myself.
A minute passed as I gazed at the slow, easy flow of the river. He didn't say anything. At last I glanced at him, and saw tears on his beautiful face, and the quivering of silent sobs in his shoulders. "What's the matter?" I asked in surprise. I do not think I had ever seen Sun-Boy cry before.
"I love you, Quill," he blurted.
I was speechless. He and I had always been friends, at least we had been since I taught him to read and write, but I had not imagined that our relationship went beyond that.
Ember River by Lead Guitarist
chapter 1 (part c)
I am not good at this sort of thing. I suppose I should have embraced the boy immediately and told him that I loved him too, but I did not. All I said was something like: "Ahhh ...."
"I tried to kiss you," he said again through his tears. "Why didn't you let me in?"
How could I tell him that it hurt me to be defeated by him? I felt so petty all of a sudden, so small and childish and stupid ... "You beat me. I was mad at myself." Was this the right thing to say? Probably not.
He sniffed. "I wish I wasn't so strong ..."
"What?" I almost shouted. "It's wonderful that you're strong! Your muscles are fantastic! You should never be ashamed of your strength!"
"But if I was weaker, you would have beaten me and ... and then, would you have let me in?"
At last I did the right thing. I forgot my own shame and my anger at myself, and I reached my arm around Sun-Boy's shoulders and hugged him. It was a good hug, warm and strong and I really meant it - I was realizing only then that I loved Sun-Boy as he loved me.
He knew it. Without a word he crawled into my lap facing me, legs extended at my sides, buttocks on my thighs and his thong pressing into mine. We embraced each other and he kissed me again. This time I let him in. Our lips were locked for a long time as our penises swelled and hardened, and I caressed him, petted him, feeling all of his incredible muscles flex and writhe in growing sexual pleasure as we kissed. I longed for him.
My heart beat faster as I tugged at the waistband of his little thong. He squirmed around, lifting his hips, letting me strip the thong from his muscular boy-body, leaving his throbbing red penis naked and free. It was as long as my index finger and as thick as my thumb, and it was at that moment the most beautiful thing in the world.
I leaned back in the grass and lifted Sun-Boy by the hips, reversing his body and taking his hot little cock in my mouth. He pulled my thong off me and began sucking my straining penis with the same intensity. This was ecstasy for me: his penis was happy in my mouth, my hands were all over the gorgeous, pumped, powerful muscles of his stripling body, and he was sucking and licking and pleasuring my own cock with an insatiable eagerness. I could feel the quick beating of his strong heart as his chest lay on my belly and I could feel the boy-heat of his copper skin sink through me, warming me with his spirit-love and his body-lust at the same time.
I gripped his buttocks as I sucked him, kneading and massaging those beautiful muscles. This seemed to drive Sun-Boy into a sexual frenzy, moaning and squeaking his boyish pleasure as he devoured my raging penis. Gradually I worked a hand between his butt-cheeks and found his anus with my finger. As my fingertip passed over the little boy-pucker he shuddered and relaxed the sphincter. My finger slipped in all the way. He momentarily released my penis and gasped "ooohhh ..."; this boy-whisper may have been the most erotic sound I have ever heard. I stroked his prostate in the same rhythm as my sucking of his cock, and at last he stiffened, his whole body shuddering in pure boysex joy, as his orgasm exploded in his body. He was still to young to squirt semen but I did not mind at all. I simply took in his heat and the vibrant pleasure of his body, and that was sufficient. My jealousy and shame vanished as my sexual high grew, and I was healed. Sun-Boy healed me.
Even after his orgasm he still sucked me enthusiastically. He inched his body forward, sliding his skin against mine as he pulled his softening penis from between my lips. He spread his muscled legs apart, leaving my face almost buried in his ass. He squirmed in sexual bliss as he sucked me, and his writhing made the muscles of his buttocks and thighs swell, relax, tighten and flex in a marvelous muscle-dance an inch from my nose. My hands groped his buttocks and legs, feeling the steely boy-muscles flowing and flexing under Sun-Boy's hot, tight skin. His tongue on my penis and his ass in my face were driving me to a height of sexual desire I do not believe I had ever reached. I could feel my orgasm boiling in my groin and suddenly all my muscles contracted and I squirted what must have been a volcano of boy-cum into Sun-Boy's mouth. He sucked in every drop of it as my hard penis jerked.
As soon as my orgasm subsided, Sun-Boy spun around on my belly and kissed me again, sharing my own hot cum, which he still held in his mouth, with me. Of course, because I am still such a young boy, I really did not produce very much, but Sun-Boy shared it and we both lay for a moment, tasting me and warming each other's muscular, sweating bodies with our heat.
"I love you, Sun-Boy," I whispered to him. "Muscles and all. And the stronger you get, the more I love you." I meant it. I didn't even know it before I said it, but I knew that I meant it.
He sat up naked on my belly, grinned his dazzling white grin, his lips graced with my cum and our saliva, and flexed his biceps. The eruption of the rock-hard, jagged muscles bursting from his arms astonished me; Sun-Boy was pumped bigger than I had ever seen him. His swollen boy-chest looked so beautiful with his bulging pecs straining proudly that my penis jumped to full erection once more. I stroked his body, feeling his muscles, the shape and contour of his throbbing young physique, and I felt like I was touching a magic vessel of pure erotic power, a boy who simply exploded with sex.
"Am I sexy?" he asked with a giggle.
"You are the sexiest boy in the world!"
"Sexier than Spark?"
I have already explained that I loved Spark from afar, but to me he was like a rainbow, a star I could never reach, a boy whose strength and beauty almost consumed my world whenever I saw him. And here was Sun-Boy, a giggling, wriggling, happy mass of hot boymuscle and sheer fun sitting naked on my naked belly, flexing and once again proudly erect. How could I tell who was sexier? "Well ..." I hesitated.
"Spark is sexier than me. It's ok if you say that. I know you have a real crank for Spark and that's good!" With that he relieved me again. I smiled and he giggled and I giggled back and he flopped down onto me, kissing hard and hugging and grinding his stiff cock into mine and driving me to another height of excitement.
Without even thinking, I somehow stood up with his sex-crazed musclebody in my arms and spilled us both into the river. The water was hip-deep on me, and we both stood up laughing and spluttering and hugged each other again. He looked so hot, so eye-poppingly sexy as the water ran from his muscles that I could not stop myself from hugging him, touching him; I was unable to get our bodies close enough. I felt like I wanted to bring him right into me or to dissolve myself into him, so that we would share one skin, one incredibly muscular desperately horny boy-body bursting with the sexual frenzy of both of us.
He buried his tongue deep into my mouth as we embraced. He never seemed to stop his wriggling, that constant grinding of his stiff cock against my body, and the writhing of his hot, pumped young muscles. I carried him to deeper water, letting the bouyancy of our bodies take some of the weight as we swirled ourselves in our river. Gradually he crawled up my torso, wrapping his legs lightly around my waist as his hands massaged the muscles of my shoulders and back. I had had sex with many boys, but I had never felt as high as this. My mind was not working; everything just seemed to swirl into an almost savage, desperate bliss. My penis ached, so pumped and throbbing that I thought it would burst from my body as Sun-Boy and I groped each other's muscles.
He began to slide his body down, his hot cock rubbing against my stomach, until I felt his buttocks touch my penis. I shook, gasping with ecstasy as Sun-Boy expertly positioned his body so that the head of my cock nestled against his tight little boyhole. Then, with a look of complete spiritual joy on his face, he opened his sphincter and slipped down onto me, letting me enter him, his ass now gripping my cock. Slowly, in time with our breathing, he pumped himself up and down my shaft. Now I felt his muscles, all of his muscles, as he struggled to bring us both to the blinding fire of orgasm. My hands were all over him, his back, his flexing chest, his powerful thighs and buttocks fucking in rhythm, his arms as he groped my own muscled body; I felt all of his trembling muscles as he felt mine.
He pumped faster, his tight treble boybreath louder and quicker as I abandoned myself to him. It was all I could do to hold onto him: he was such a passionate, uncontrollable, vibrating mass of rippling boymuscle supercharged with sex and the incredible strength sex gave him. I gave up completely, forgetting myself in the musclesex bliss, forgetting balance and water and everything as we worked our fucking together. Nothing mattered but our penises, his hot little ass, our throbbing muscles and the sweat swirling with the riverwater. Another orgasm began to burst within us - I could feel him tensing and quivering as the fireball built in my own loins - this was our orgasm, a common, shared sunburst of raw physical pleasure and the joy of our love. And then we exploded. I saw stars, heard Sun-Boy's ecstatic cry, felt the grip of all of our muscles swelling and shaking our bodies and I pumped everything I had into Sun-Boy. I do not know how long it lasted. Somewhere along the way his blissful sexual cry and moan became soft laughter, matching my own. Somewhere along the way we settled down, my penis still buried within his asshole, embracing each other in utter exhaustion and pure love. Somewhere along the way I found the strength and presence of mind to bring us back to the riverbank, and we sprawled there gasping, entwined in each other, spent and grinning at each other and kissing when we found enough breath to kiss. I had never been so happy.
Ember River Chapter 2 part a by Lead Guitarist
The brushfire came in midsummer and burned most of the Ember River valley. I shall not describe the fire or the attempts we made to fight it, for it would be painful and useless to do so. I shall only say that the fire consumed our trifoil plantation entirely, and it also killed thirty-one brave boys who died trying to save others. We buried their charred remains in the scorched earth of the trifoil plantation in the hopes that when we get the trifoil growing again, it will give us some of their courage along with the strength we have always gained from it.
When we had buried our dead and done what we could to help our wounded, Chain called us together for a meeting. It was a sunny morning and we met on the Dawn Crag above the valley, and we could all see the valley stretch out below us and see the black smoking sear where the fire had come.
Chain is a good leader, but is a boy of few words. "Our trifoil is gone," he said. His voice was well into its change; we all knew that he would be leaving the valley before the end of the year. "Without our trifoil we have no strength, and without our strength we cannot fight the enslavers. We all know this.
"There is only one place where there is more trifoil. It is in the city of Eisen, a fortnight's hard trek from here. There was a university there where trifoil was studied in the golden days before the Collapse, and the laboratory there still, I believe, has seeds of the trifoil plant. The university is closed and abandoned, but the seeds should still be there. Somebody will have to go to Eisen to get them.
"This will be dangerous. Between here and Eisen there are gangs of enslavers. In the city of Eisen there are other gangs, gangs of desperate men and boys who kill from fear and because they love bloodsport. I hate to send boys I love to Eisen, especially when we need every boy here so much now, but I have no choice. I have chosen a boy to lead the expedition to Eisen. You all know him; he will lead when I am gone from this valley. The leader will be Spark."
Chain sat down and Spark stood before us. He looked magnificent. The wind stirred his yellow-gold hair as the sun danced through the strands, his bright smile flashed, his fiery eyes were dazzling in their pure brilliance. He wore only his white thong, and the riveting power that seethed in his young body swelled his muscles to bursting even as he stood relaxed.
Sun-Boy was sitting in my lap, leaning back against my chest as we listened. I was leaning against an old treestump and my arms encircled Sun-Boy's hard, muscled belly. We both wore our thongs, and my penis was stiff against Sun-Boy's buttocks as we listened to our leaders. My cock twitched when Spark stood up, and Sun-Boy noticed. "He looks great, doesn't he?" he whispered to me.
"He does. So strong, so beautiful ..." I kissed Sun-Boy on the cheek and slipped my left hand down his stomach and into his thong. His penis was hard, too. I began gently to play with it. He sighed, flexing his chest a little as he wriggled in his pleasure. I loved watching his amazing muscles bulge and pump with their awesome strength; I had an incredibly sexy little tiger in my lap, and he was really turning me on.
Spark raised his wonderful alto voice to be heard above the noise of nearly three hundred young, restless boys. "Everybody settle down!" he commanded. We hushed ourselves.
"Chain has asked me to lead a group of boys to Eisen to get the trifoil seeds. I need five boys to go with me. It will be a dangerous trip, as Chain said, and we will have to fight. Some of us may die."
A murmer circled through the crowd.
"You all know that there are enslavers out there. Our patrols fight them almost every day to help the baby boys come to this valley. I have fought them; many of you have fought them too. But few of you know what would happen to you if the enslavers caught you alive. You would be drugged, beaten, starved, and used in the most brutal sex-pits imaginable until you grew too old and too diseased to be valuable to them. Then you would be killed. Few boys live to see their eighteenth birthday in the enslavers' sex pits."
Another murmer. I hugged Sun-Boy tightly and kissed him again. Spark continued:
"I am asking for volunteers to go with me. Any boy here who is eleven years old or over may volunteer. I need only the older boys, for we will need all the strength we can get."
I raised my hand. Sun-Boy raised his, too. "Put your hand down!" I hissed at him. "You're not old enough!" He kept it up. I looked around and saw that Spark would have a hard choice, for every single boy present who was eleven or older had raised his hand! In that moment I was proud of my home, my compatriots, my clan-boys. We all looked at each other and smiled our shy but eager smiles, all of us willing to go even if it meant death.
Spark's whole face lit up in the most beautiful grin I had ever seen. I think he may have had tears in his eyes. He raised his own hand. The noise increased; boys began to call out; boys began to cheer. And then, before the noise became too great, Spark started swinging his upraised arm in rhythm, and began to sing:
"Ember River, valley fair,
Boys may find their spirits there.
Grow strong as lions, straight and true,
And share their love as angels do."
This is our song. We sing this over our campfires in the twilight and while we fish the river or tend the trifoil. We sing this song while we work our muscles in exercise and as we play our boy-games of all sorts. I suppose it is our anthem; it binds us as an anthem does.
We all began singing. I had never heard all the boy-voices of Ember River sing at once before. The music was so beautiful and full of all our hope that I could not keep from weeping as I sang, and I saw tears on Sun-Boy's cheeks, as well. We swayed with the beat, singing our little verse over and over until our hearts seemed to burst - until Spark waved for us to be silent and listen.
Sun-Boy turned to me with his pride and love shining on his face. "I'm so glad I'm an Ember River boy!" he said. "I feel so lucky that you boys found me ..." I just hugged him, unable to trust my own voice. I felt even luckier that we had found him, and that we were all Ember River boys together ... I wiped my tears in his beautiful hair and we settled to listen.
"Thanks, all of you," said Spark. "You make me proud to be one of you! But I cannot take you all. I will choose five boys: the five I think I will need.
"First, I need a boy who knows the city of Eisen and its gangs well. I choose Blaze."
Blaze was twelve. He was called Blaze because he had tattoos of flames on his chest. He had joined the Ember River boys only two years earlier, when he had been abandoned by his Eisen gang. He had been raised in Eisen and knew the city as we knew our valley. Because he had only been taking trifoil and our exercise regimen for two years, he had not developed anywhere near the strength the rest of us possessed, though he was easily stronger than any ordinary boy his age. He stood up, his reddish-brown hair windblown and tangled, and joined Spark on the rock-stage before us. "I know I'm not as strong as the rest of you," he said. "But you saved my life when I was abandoned and I will fight for you with everything I have." We cheered him. I knew him, having taught him to read and write, and I knew that his loyalty was fierce.
Spark continued. "Second, I need the strongest and best fighters of all of us. I choose Talon."
Talon was twelve, nearly thirteen and many months older than Spark himself, and while his strength was indeed remarkable and his fighting skill unexcelled, I knew that he did not have the sharpest of minds. He stood, flexed his powerful muscles, and mounted the stage as well. "Me too!" he shouted to us. "I'll do whatever Spark needs me to do!"
"Third, I choose Leo."
Leo was the only eleven-year-old who had defeated me in the wrestling. I felt good that he had been chosen; it meant that Spark had noticed him and so would have noticed me. He joined the others on the stage. "You all know me," he said. "I'm ready for anything!" He flexed his impressive young biceps and we cheered him as well. Leo was a very brave boy, but I had reservations about him. He was impulsive and undisciplined and did not take well to my instruction; I believed that his pride and ambition sometimes overcome his judgement.
"Fourth, I need a boy with outstanding strength and fighting skill, but who also possesses the wisdom and intelligence I will need if I am to lead a successful mission. I choose Quill."
I was overjoyed! I had never known that Spark thought this much of me and my heart burst with pride as I kissed Sun-Boy and stood to join them on the stage.
Chain spoke. "Spark, it may not be wise to take Quill. The younger boys need him here so much ..."
"Please, Chain. I need him. He's among our strongest and he's beyond doubt our best mind. He will advise me and ensure that I do not make too many errors. Let me take him."
Here Spark was being overly generous to me; I do think I am fairly bright, but there are other boys among us who are brighter. And Spark was also being modest, for in my opinion he is one of these boys.
Chain nodded. "We will leave it up to him. Quill, I need you here. I have no one else who can teach the younger boys as well as you can. They love you. Will you stay or will you go?"
This was a situation I had never experienced before. The two boys I respected more than any others both wanted me! I knew I had responsibilities to the boys I taught, but I could not turn down Spark. I would have given anything to go with him. And then there was Sun-Boy - how could I leave him and go, perhaps, to my death? I glanced back at him. He was standing with his hands clasped together in front of him, gazing at me with the same respect I used to see in his eyes as I explained writing to him. I opened my mouth to say something to him, but I could not find words. He smiled, and mouthed "Go."
Ember River chapter 2 part b by Lead Guitarist
"Sun-Boy -" I called to him.
"I'll be ok. Go! Spark needs you."
"I'm sorry, Chain," I said. "I have to go if Spark wants me." Chain nodded his assent.
I turned to Spark. "Thank you for choosing me. I hope I won't let you down."
He gave me that smile of his, the smile I would die to see. "You won't."
I turned to the assembled boys. Many had tears and I was beginning to cry too, for I loved them as they loved me, and we all knew that I might never return to them. I tried to keep my voice as brave as Spark's. "I have to go with Spark. Hawkwing will teach the younger boys while I am gone." I looked for Hawkwing in the crowd, found him, and he nodded his agreement. He is a smart boy of twelve years and I trust him to do well.
I looked back at Sun-Boy. I missed him already. My heart was ready to burst with love for him and with hope that I would survive this expedition and do well enough that he would be proud of me when I returned. I wanted so much to be worthy of him and of his love. He was standing where I had left him and I could see tears on his cheeks and the quivering of his shoulders as he wept and I almost had to look away, for I did not want to see his sorrow. He waved at me and forced a smile, then sat and put his head in his hands and let the tears come. Two boys, Javelin and young Tomcat, stood beside him and comforted him and I was glad they were there.
Spark laid his hand on my shoulder. "It will be all right," he said. "I know how you and Sun-Boy love each other."
He turned to face the boys. "I need one more. I need a boy of terrific strength and fighting skill, and whose spirit is so bright that he will keep us from despair no matter how bad the situation gets. I choose Sun-Boy."
I do not know whose reaction I should mention first, so I will begin with my own. I was shocked. I truly did not believe that Spark would consider Sun-Boy, because he was so young, and also because he was always so gentle and so beautiful that I assumed that nobody would even think of exposing him to any danger. From shock my heart moved to sheer joy and relief, because it meant that Sun-Boy and I would not be separated after all. And I felt a huge warm thanks to Spark for choosing my love to accompany us.
The assembled boys gasped, groaned, shouted disapproval. All of them knew and loved Sun-Boy and knew he was young and knew his tenderness; I know that for them Sun-Boy and violence just did not belong in the same breath.
Chain stood. "Spark, I have to say no. Sun-Boy is too young and this mission is too dangerous."
"I need him, Chain. His strength is enormous for his age - he is almost as strong as I am. And we need him for his spirit. There will be dark nights, dangerous nights, and these boys -" Spark gestured towards Talon and Leo and Blaze, and maybe me as well - "- will perhaps forget the beauty of Ember River and lose hope. Sun-Boy is Ember River! We will succeed with him because we will succeed for him. I cannot inspire these boys without him."
I watched Sun-Boy when Spark chose him. He glanced up and I saw his face open and beam and glow with a sudden joy that warmed me in my bones. He stood, his hands on the shoulders of the astonished Javelin and Tomcat, and while Spark defended his choice, Sun-Boy came to the stage.
Chain spoke. "Sun-Boy .... surely you don't want to go! It will be very dangerous and ... and we'll worry so much ..."
"I know," Sun-Boy said. "But I want to go. It will be easier for me if I'm with Quill and not here worrying about him. And if Spark says he needs me, I have to be there for him."
Spark rested his hand on Sun-Boy's shoulder. "It'll be great, Chain! Look at this team! If you want a team that can bring back the trifoil seeds, who else could you choose? I know how valuable these boys are, but that's why I need them. It will be best for all of Ember River if the best boys go."
Chain hesitated a few seconds, and at last he nodded. "I approve your choices." He then took Spark in his powerful arms and hugged him for a long time. Everyone could see that his penis was stiff in his thong. Spark's young cock grew to erection as well. And Sun-Boy came to me and we embraced, and our hard cocks rubbed together through the thin fabric of our thongs. I think we all felt good, brave, and ready, and horny, too.
At last Chain released Spark and addressed the assembled boys. "We need to prepare our team for their journey! Let us anoint them with the strength of our love! Everybody bathe yourselves - we're having a spunk-dance today!"
Cheers erupted from the boys. Almost as one they leapt to their feet and charged for the river. A spunk-dance was a rare event, usually held only on the occasion of a leader's leaving the valley and a new leader's elevation to his post. I had never been one of those celebrated before, but I knew I was in for something special.
Of course, I was unable to keep track of the actions of everybody during the spunk-dance, because I was so busy during it myself, so my description of it will not be entirely accurate. However, it is based on my talks with the boys who participated and on my recollections of previous spunk-dances, as well as on the events I did witness and participated in, so I believe my account will be true to the spirit of the spunk-dance and will give the reader a fair idea of what a spunk-dance is and how this particular one proceeded. But be warned that I am taking license; I am sure that Chain will not mind.
Two hours after the meeting, all of the boys of the Ember River valley were clean, in clean thongs, their muscles freshly pumped and their bodies glistening with aromatic oils. I watched them as they gathered on our common by the riverside: hundreds of beautiful boys, all naked but for their tiny thongs, all rippling with healthy, strong muscle shining in the sunlight, all vibrant with glee and excitement, most already horny and showing off the bulges in their thongs as they showed off the bulging of their muscles. They were laughing, shouting, skipping and dancing and hugging each other as they assembled, the mood one of high-spirited exuberance rather than the more somber air of the morning.
Our ceremonial drums were produced. Sixteen of them were arranged in a wide circle and our best drummers began to beat them in a slow, sensual rhythm. I love this part of the dance: the beginning of the beat feels like a boy's heart and I suddenly feel as though I'm close to an excited, muscled young body warm and horny and almost touching my skin, and my own penis grows to full stiffness and stays that way through the entire dance. The throb of the drumbeat makes me throb.
The beat has the same effect on the drummers themselves. I watched Colt, a lean, strapping twelve-year-old drummer, as the rhythm took him. His rippling muscles pulsed and undulated under his skin as he beat the drumskin with his hands. Eyes closed in bliss, he began to sway his hips and roll his young shoulders, and I stood for a while and watched his taut body move. His thighs and buttocks flexed and relaxed with the pulse, the muscles surging into bold relief as the boy lifted himself on his toes. I watched his shoulders and hips twisting ecstatically, sexually, rolling and grinding and working as he lost himself in his drumming, and I lost myself in the beauty of his young body.
I moved into position behind him and began to dance, matching his every move. He did not even know I was there until I reached my arms around his waist and began running my hands over his oiled, muscular abdomen. Then he glanced back at me, grinning widely to encourage me. My penis was hot and as hard as hot iron in my thong, and I bucked my hips to drive my crotch into the cleft between Colt's tight buttocks and I matched every move he made. As he swung his hips, I swung mine so as to keep my cock locked between his cheeks. I slipped my hands all over his strong young torso, feeling the hardness and strength of each muscle, and at last I slid my fingers under his thong and gripped his rock-hard penis in my fist. "Ohhhh", he sighed as I played with his hot boycock. I nuzzled closer, pressing as much of my body against his as I could, feeling our warm, oil-slick skins slide against each other.
I released his penis and stroked his muscled body, letting my hands do what they will. Playfully I slapped his hard, ridged belly in time to his own drumming, adding my own fills and riffs to his music. I reached down and groped his bulging thighs, rippling boymuscle seething and flowing just under his hot skin, clenching steel-hard and relaxing to the beat. To me, nothing feels better than the muscles of a hot, horny young boy as he sweats through his oiled skin. Soon Colt's thong and mine were soaked with our sweat and the fragrant oil, clinging to our rock-stiff penises as they strained to burst free. I continued massaging Colt's inner thighs, moving higher until I was playing with his balls and his throbbing, struggling boy-cock. Never once did he miss a beat, though waves of sexual ecstasy were
"Oh, Quill!" he gasped after a few minutes. "Please don't make me cum yet! I have to drum all day!"
I kissed his neck. "OK, Colt. I can't cum yet either! But you sure do look hot when you play your drum!" I released him and let him play on.