This story is part of a series about ancient gay magic. It's fiction, but based on real mythology and magical concepts. If you are interested further, look up seiðr and its connection to homosexuality. If you like the story and want to reach out, my email is ripeworkingman@protonmail.com
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Rún learned seiðr from his mother. She was respected in the village as a seeress, but he was a secret. Rún did not know his father, and no one knew Rún. But he learned his mother's magic in secret, and through that magic, he learned the secrets of the village, of himself, of the dirt, of the plants and animals, and of the waters. Rún and Heid lived away from the village, in the dense forest. They kept pigs, which Heid would sometimes sell in town. They cared for cats and kept a garden. On occasion, a villager would venture towards their cottage in need of magical assistance. Rún was older now, and he would not be a secret for much longer.
Heid had grown ill in the past year after a man called Harald had returned to their village after many years of absence and regained his former command over the community. Harald was bold, strong, and cruel. No one dared cross him. Heid would not speak of Harald to Rún, but he started having dreams of Harald and his mother. Heid had always been in perfect health, and if her vitality ever faltered, she more than anyone else knew what to use for a remedy. Yet Rún could see her will to carry on fading. The night she died, Rún met with his mother in a dream. She shared all of her knowledge with him. Then Rún was alone.
He worked the land for a year after Heid's passing, drinking only water from the nearby spring and eating food he foraged or grew himself. Rún continued to work seiðr until he knew he could carry the magical line that was his birthright. He grew strong, physically and spiritually. His dark hair was long, his face was beautiful and open, and his body was pale and toned. He was visited twice during the year by villagers who needed his help. Surely they expected to meet Heid, but they met Rún instead.
The first visitor was a woman, Sif, who was worried her husband was unfaithful. She wanted a love spell to bind her husband to herself. Rún gave her a dried red rose from his garden, and told her that during the day of the new moon, under the shine of the morning star, she must grind the flower to dust and mix it with her blood of the moon as well as three pubic hairs of her beloved, then recite a prayer to the Goddess Freyja. That night, she was to mix seven drops into a meal they would share.
The second visitor was a man, Thorsten, who felt he was failing his warrior's duty. He expected to meet an old woman, but instead met a young man. Thorsten nervously shared with Rún that when he would train with his warrior brothers, his cock would grow large. When his fellow men sought out women to fuck and marry, he was left alone. Rún laid a gentle hand upon Thorsten's face. He told the strong, burly man that he could show him how to overcome his challenge if he would let him. Thorsten agreed. Neither man said a word for the remainder of the time they spent together.
Rún shed his cloak and trousers and told Thorsten to do the same. The nervous warrior got naked, revealing his muscular, hairy body, and Rún straddled him. He held Thorsten's beard and brought his lips to the larger man's, looking him directly in the eyes. Everything Thorsten knew told him to throw Rún off of him, to beat him or kill him, to completely destroy this shameful unmanly seiðmaðr, but he didn't. Whether it was Rún's strong magic or Thorsten's own desire, he let Rún's lips meet his own, and he let the pale, raven haired man's tongue enter his mouth. He felt his cock engorge with blood and press against Rún's body. Rún made Thorsten spit into his hand, then he stroked Thorsten's hard cock with his own fluid. He rubbed Thorsten's spit and a balm onto his asshole and slid the warrior's staff inside his body. As Rún rode Thorsten's cock, he chanted to Freyr, his God. Rún's whole body vibrated, shaking, and emanated a mystical heat. Thorsten's pupils grew large.
As Rún chanted into Thorsten's mouth, sliding his lithe buttocks to pump his erection, the larger man became wild. His hair seemed to stand on end. He smiled and he licked Rún's face, then he threw the young man to the ground, his cock still inside, and began to fuck him madly like an animal. Rún moaned in ecstasy and continued chanting to Freyr. Thorsten pumped Rún's ass hard, and Rún heard the hairiest, largest boar outside grunting deeply and squealing. Thorsten's dusky, hairy body threw itself against Rún's pale, smooth form as they each experienced pleasure beyond what either had ever known. The pigs outside made noises like they were feral. The smell of sweat and man filled the entire cottage. Thorsten flooded Rún's open, willing hole with an almost endless load of his semen, jerking and thrusting over and over as he squirted cupfuls of thick white cream into Rún's beautiful pale butt, and then he immediately passed out, lying on the floor.
Rún lay under Thorsten's heavy body and groaned, the carnal noise of a satisfied bitch well filled. After several moments, he pulled himself off Thorsten's cock, which was still hard, and he rubbed two fingers across his slippery butthole. He felt the soft black hair in his crack, then he pressed his fingers into his open ass. Still holding his fingers in his hole, he lowered his face to Thorsten's and kissed him on his lips. Thorsten's eyes fluttered open. Rún turned, and he placed his buttocks over Thorsten's face. The burly warrior's mouth opened willingly. Rún gazed to a wooden statue across the room and repeated his chant to Freyr once more. He pulled his fingers from his hole and let Thorsten's ample load gush back into his body through his open mouth. Thorsten instinctually wrapped his lips around Rún's wet hole. He felt his beard entwine with the hair in Rún's crack. He accepted his semen, and he swallowed every drop directly from Rún's freshly fucked butthole.
For several minutes, Thorsten's tongue played in Rún's ass, enjoying the taste of the seiðr man's butt musk mixed with his own virility. Then, Rún pulled off, stood over Thorsten, kissed him on the mouth for a final time, and helped him to his feet. The two looked each other in the eyes wordlessly. Thorsten wrapped his arms around the man like a long lost brother as tears welled in his eyes. He walked to his cloak, pulled something from its folds, and then walked to and kneeled before the wooden statue across the room. He placed the object at its feet, gazed at Rún again, smiled and nodded, then left the cottage.
That was the first time either of them had fucked another man. For Rún, it was the first time he'd fucked anyone. But he knew what to do, from his seiðr, and from what he learned from Freyr. He had taken Thorsten into himself then offered Thorsten's essence back to him. The warrior accepted his own essence and healed the rift against himself he'd been unable to close.
Rún fell asleep that night with a polished stone figure of Freyr's phallus slid inside him. He dreamed of Harald, naked in his extravagant bed, which was covered with furs. He saw the warrior king's furry chest and his large, flaccid cock, surrounded by a thick bush of raven hair. Harald's long black hair was splayed loose beneath him, almost looking womanly, in sharp contrast to his harshly masculine physique and rough but handsome face. In his dream, he saw Harald stand up and walk towards the fire. He pissed into a large stone pot, then he squatted over it, spreading his hairy, muscular ass, and relieved himself generously, grunting. He laxly wiped his ass once with a nearby wool cloth, then covered the pot and went back to bed. Even while asleep, Rún felt his own cock stir. His dream shifted and he saw a younger man, around his age, in the forest. He was dressed in rags and was walking fast, almost running. He paused behind a tree, dug a hole in the earth, then he also squatted over it, dumping his waste. He looked around, as if feeling unsafe, then pulled his trousers up and kept walking. Rún saw a flash of torchlight behind him in the distance and heard hollers from deep voiced men. Then, his dream changed again. He felt Freyr holding him, and he felt the God's cock pressed into his ass, and he was receiving it. A giggling dwarf sauntered up, spread his hairy ass in Rún's smiling face, then farted.
Rún woke up with a powerful erection. The stone phallus had slid out from his ass during the night. He cupped his hand over his asshole and farted a long, rippling wet breeze pungent with the scent of men fucking and sacred filth into his palm. He tasted the remnants of Thorsten's semen thoroughly mixed with his own body. He got out of bed, set water over the fire to boil, and threw oats into a bowl. He looked at the oats, and he saw a bird. He knew his time alone was coming to an end. He was going to have to go into the village.