Ogedei's Boy Chapter Four by Ant-Boy@Hotmail.co.uk
"On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined; no sleep to morn when youth and pleasure meet."
While I was enjoying my first attempt at pleasuring someone's prick with my mouth the action down between my legs was speeding up. Instead of a gentle tongue my balls were now in receipt of hot heavy breathing and I heard the slap, slap, slap of flesh against flesh now recognisable as one man fucking another's backside. The thought of what was happening close enough for me to hear, not only got my own cock to raise itself again but also encouraged me to double my efforts on the one now moving slightly in and out of my clenched lips.
Managing, somehow, to keep my teeth out of the way I held my lips tighter and used my tongue to lick and twist round that live piece of flesh we were joined by. At times in later years I'd not always be in the mood to have my face fucked but as long as I found it clean I never lost my initial joy at servicing that part of a man with my mouth and tongue, being joined together in a way where I was actually partially in control, where I could give pleasure or tease as the mood took me. Oh yes! I also loved being shafted after I discovered how enjoyable that could be, in fact preferred that as a conclusion to any session, but I never felt connected to another person in quite the same way as when I had their cock in my mouth and could use my tongue and teeth to play with it. Being fucked was a more definite connection but it was also a more definite submission, just occasionally I liked to fool myself I still had some independence, or maybe, I just liked to suck cock.
I realise Freud would have said something about what he would have considered such unhealthy desires and its true, having lost my both my parents at so young an age I had never suckled, or for that matter really bonded with another person before I became sexually active.
Even so, I think he would have been wrong, at least in my case, as to the cause. Sucking cock was not a substitute for the mothers' breast I'd missed out on and I never had the slightest inclination, fantasy or otherwise, to have sex with the father I'd never known or in fact with any other male authority figure from my earlier childhood. No. Sucking a man's cock, or rather the time I was allowed to play with it, that part of a man that could be so strong and proud yet at the end of my ministrations so limp and useless, that time was special to me.
Special for my unalloyed enjoyment but also special for the power I held at that moment even though being in the subservient position. It was not until I finally met, and was trained, by my Master I discovered how much more enjoyment could be obtained by surrendering that power to one who would repay it fourfold.
All that was still to come as I felt hands grip my head and pull it back and forth in time with the thrusts from above and in a moment I got my reward. With a gasp my head was grabbed tightly and slammed forward to squash my nose against that firm almost hairless groin while the cock spurted fresh hot cum straight from the tap in my mouth for the first time in my life.
It was so different from licking my own off my hands or even the other offerings I'd been fed that night. This was still warm and just for me. It was spurting in my mouth and I was swallowing. If my mouth had not been so full I'd have yelled with joy, I sucked and slurped at his rapidly softening cock with abandon not caring I could hardly breathe. I had sucked someone's cock! Having already cum once that night, as had we all, his load was not excessive and far too soon he pulled out and stood up with a slight groan when he rubbed his knees, sore from the grass they'd been rubbing on. As I licked my lips and looked around I noticed the boy between my legs was really being given a hammering now. His arms were now tucked under my thighs and holding me tightly. The tongue that earlier had been so gently washing between my thighs and round my balls was now hanging out limply over the teeth of a rapidly gasping mouth responding to the cooks cock ploughing in and out of the tongue owners arse. His hot breath falling against my balls and his clenched hands round my legs had effectively brought my cock back to life, standing proudly just in front of his face, swaying gently as if in a breeze. Oh, I was in love with my cock at that moment, it made me feel so good, I didn't want it to end.
The lad lying between my legs whose arsehole was being pounded so unmercifully had almost given up breathing. Each inward thrust forced a little more air from his lungs and he never seemed quite able to re-inflate them again before his body was once more crushed against the grass, I could feel the vibrations from each thrust through the ground and more directly through the arms he had locked round my thighs. But it was his face that took most of my attention, streaming with sweat that was splattering my lower body with each shake of his head, teeth clenched, and eyes half glazed and unseeing, obviously in pain and just as obviously ecstatic.
I couldn't understand what he was gasping but it was obviously encouragement to the cook so enthusiastically attacking his hole with considerably more force and vigour than he'd been using with the house boy when I found them the other day. This was my first experience of ecstasy through pain, admittedly once removed. I knew in theory what was happening, had considered if would ever be done to me, had in fact experimented with the end of a broom handle inserted about an inch. But this, what was happening right in front of my eyes, it turned me on but there was no way I'd ever allow myself to be put through so much pain for someone else's enjoyment.
Ah the innocence of youth! If only the young lad of sixteen could have seen himself a couple of years in the future, let alone after he'd met his Master I would have probably run a mile and jumped off a cliff if I could find one. As it was, I just found what I saw exciting, or was it what I heard that that excited me, sounds that connected with some inner primeval desire?
I do know that after this night I never really got off on seeing someone else being abused, I was to discover that I needed that use and abuse inflicted on my body, all I wanted to actually see was pleasure or satisfaction on the face of my abuser.
But sounds! Ah sounds and smells! That was another matter. The sound of a hand or belt laid across naked flesh, the scent of a clean body slowly shifting to one of sweat, and cum and piss, the heavy breathing, the moans and groans and yelps, at times the crying and pleading, hearing that rising from my own body and above it all the calm voice of my Master telling me what new form of torture he'd thought up to try. However those scenes were years away and would have been quite beyond the comprehension of an innocent schoolboy. Well, not quite so innocent now, but still beyond rational understanding.
The arms wraped round my thighs gripped harder and his hands dug in sufficiently to still show faintly a week later. His head had taken on a life of its own weaving violently from side to side hitting against my thighs without regard; his voice had changed to a almost continuous high pitched sort of bleating. My own body was reacting to his, my cock painfully aroused and bouncing from side to side as I thrust my buttocks up and down, not quite sure what i was doing but that cock needed attention. My balls were being knocked around between my gyrations and his, I went to use a hand to bring myself relief only to discover then both my arms were being restrained by others of the group kneeling around and watching the scene between my legs and my also heaving desperate body.
`I need to cum,' I gasped out.
Soon,' came a reply, good this way.'
Good for who? I had never held back an ejaculation this long before. I got excited, had a wank and shot, always wanting it to go on longer. If this was what happened going on longer I didn't want it, i just had to shoot, my mind quite unable to concentrate on anything else.
I became peripherally aware of the cook finally bringing his attack on the lads arse to a conclusion with a shout, of the lad kneeling up and bringing himself off over my cock with a couple of quick jerks, of other cocks being emptied over my body but that was all in the distance. There was one and only one burning thought in my brain that occluded all others. I had to shoot.
I could hear myself begging, my arms were still half restrained as now my lower legs. The centre of my body however was reacting as had the head between my thighs earlier, twisting and writhing, my cock and balls being knocked this way and that in my exertions. I was burning when I felt someone's soft warm lips close over my shaft.
`No. Not like that please. Wank me, wank me hard!' Wherever that thought came from I knew it was the right one. I already cum once, or was it twice, no matter. I wanted, needed, to cum again but not via a gently hand or mouth job. My tackle had been full and bouncing around for too long, my body needed to feel more than a pleasant friction up and down my shaft.
A voice spoke and several viewers spat over my cock then a hand grabbed it firmly toward the top and and finally started what it, and I , were crying for.
`Like this?' I was asked.
`No. Harder.' I bent my freed legs back to my body and let them fall apart, my balls falling down between my legs and my cock remaining fully upright. I have no idea where the idea came from, after all I'd never really been wanked off before, not like this anyway, you couldn't count that fumbling at school. My arms moved to allow my hands to grasp at my ankles thereby tensing my body and allowing full access to my cock.
My request was honoured and the hand working on my cock started moving faster, bashing my balls up and down in the process. Someone's hands were twisting and pinching at my nipples, not with any real force you understand but for me at that time the result was an eye opener. Another hand went to cup my balls as they were banging back and forth, `No. Let them bang. Do me harder. For God's sake make me feel it.'
Looking back now I see that was the first time I really looked for pain, even in my mind, but what I was saying, almost screaming, was no longer was being monitored by my brain, all I knew, all I could concentrate on, all my taut writhing bouncing body wanted was release.
`More?'
`Yes! Yes! Yes! Please more please harder. Do It!'
I never noticed when first one, then two, then three fingers slid easily into my arsehole being exposed by my spread legs and slick from my sweat and who knows what else. What I do know was the jolt sent through my body and the scream I was unable to control when my cock erupted. Eruption was an understatement but I know of no other word to describe what happened, I would have sworn my whole body left the ground.
When I fell back to earth, or I regained consciousness, either description could be true, one hand was fondling balls and a mouth drawing the last remnants of seed from my cock. My arms and legs had found natural positions to lay in and I just wanted to stay there and fall asleep. That was not to be.
Young master,' the house boy shaking my shoulder with far more force than he would have dared previously, you must go in. Fly soon.'
Yes. Thank goodness someone had sense. Looking up I saw the sky lighting rapidly as the sun rose over the horizon and realised with some horror I only had a few hours to clean, dress and pack before I would have to leave. I no longer had any wish to leave, I wanted to find out more, to experiment more, to attempt everything. That was not to be. I struggled to my feet, the others all rising with me, six naked dark bodies looking even more glorious to me in the rapidly increasing sunlight. No one had an erect cock so somewhere along the way when I was off in a world of my own they must have all been satisfied, I felt I'd been unfair somehow and wanted to make it up to them but there was no time.
One thing I could do was show them my gratitude and starting with the cook I made my way round, kissing each deeply and ending with the house boy, that beautiful young lad who really began me on my voyage of discovery. I have to admit to more sexual partners than would be considered polite, but his face and body and scent remain in my brain to this day. I owe him, and his companions, a massive debt of thanks for the undemanding way they initiated me. A debt I never really was able to repay even though I did try later.
Thank goodness someone had an eye on the time, thank goodness for the resilience of youth.
By the time my Aunt and Uncle retuned in time for breakfast and to accompany me on the hundred odd miles to the airport I'd been awake for twenty-four hours and only just had time to wash, pack and dress before they drove up. I managed, without too much difficulty I have to admit, to convince them I was quite capable of undertaking the trip on my own and after breakfast, my belongings loaded on the hire car, the house staff lined up outside to wish me farewell.
It was normal practice, after a visit entailing more than a couple of days to give the staff a small tip on leaving. I'd been told in other years this should only equal around a days wages and while I was in the habit of doubling this considering I'd been served by them for more than a few days I decided they deserved more this time. After all I was actually quite flush and would only have the trouble of getting it changed back to pounds on my return. All travel expenses were paid by my Aunt and Uncles so I never had to touch the sum forwarded from my trustees. Then my Aunt always gave me a large wad of cash upon arrival I seldom had need or possibility to spend and most of that was still in my case. Retaining sufficient for the hire car and any airport expenses I bundled the rest into six envelopes.
They were all looking fresh and smart in white shorts and shirts; I just hoped they would have time to get a rest sometime during the day. Starting with the cook I made my way down the line insisting on shaking each person's hand even though that variation on the norm drew a glance from my Uncle. My relatives were in no way racists but did consider servants had their place. That idea I thought with a grin to myself I agreed with, what that place was we would differ over. I wanted that place to be in my bed.
As I shook each hand I transferred an envelope with the other. Thank you very much for a most enjoyable stay, I would say with a private grin, or something along those words.
Don't open this until you get home,' I continued. No sense in getting the relatives riled up at my profligate nature. The house boy ended the line and I said the same to him when all I really wanted to say was Can we do it again.'
`See you again next year I hope,' was all I dared.
`Yes young master. You not so young then.' That, and his cheeky grin, gave me some food for thought. None of us were to know it would be five years before I returned and then under sadder and very different circumstances.
Finally I got away and telling the driver to wake me ten minutes from the airport sunk straight into a deep sleep, only waking sufficiently to thank and pay him off, make my way through customs and board my flight before dropping off again.
This, thank goodness was the last time I would fly as an unaccompanied child and for a brief moment I was upset at the steward waking me to ask if I was alright. My eyes were attracted to a most attractive bulging pair of smart blue trousers and I could feel myself blushing as I looked guiltily up to his grinning black face.
`You were having a bad dream son,' No it wasn't, and I could see by his face he knew it.
`Thank you,' I grinned back.
What I didn't understand was my dream had me laying face down between a pair of legs and having the house boy climb on top and take the place I'd seen the cook in last night. I better try not to sleep again before I reached my hotel in London.