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Chapter 26
"By Taleta tears this boy is pretty...isn't he?" Ser Zylander Chezbernon asks. I envy his rich baritone and deeply resonate way of speaking. I know my own voice will never sink so low. I also envy his good looks; I've no idea what he sees in me. But I guess I'm thankful for it.
As for what he's saying, I can't tell if he's talking to anyone in particular or if he's just talking to himself. Maybe he's in disbelief and just wants to make sure I'm not a dream. So at least he thinks I'm good looking too, I guess. I can understand this. I've been in a nightmare for an eternity now, and it only seems to get worse. If I could dream of something better, I would. But I think I'd want assurance that it was real.
A happiness that's a lie is a torture contrived in the deepest pits of Hell.
But where's the most beautiful boy I've ever seen? Where's my Talen?
I look askew and Zylander pokes his finger into my mouth. It's almost rude the way he does it. All the knights are like this...sometimes their nails scrape my gums. I caress it with my tongue like he wants me too because if I don't, he may hurt the one I love. Some decisions are easy. They are black and white like that.
Do I want Talen to hurt? Or do I want him to be safe?
Trust in Talen, the yellow eyes said to me once. It seems so long ago. Even if they hadn't, I could never abandon my lover. He's the only man I've been willingly intimate with, and the only one that has ever been privy to all of my ADULT body. A thing that today has never felt the touch of another man's hands...only Talen's fingers groping at my holes in a passion-filled dark. I grow thankful that there's armor between the knights and my skin. I wonder how much longer it can protect me.
I wonder how much longer it will be before they begin to remove it themselves, like they did my helmet.
The choice I make is an easy one. It emerges from a chrysalis of love instead of hate or revenge. It exits from inside my heart.
I think I hear him: the shuffle of feet and the clank of chains. There's laughter there too, but it doesn't come from Talen. It's from the Timeron knights who whisper things into his ears. They tease and mock him with words because they are not permitted to do anything physical to him. Not as long as I play along...not as long as I sweat to fulfill their fantasy.
Talen's mouth is muzzled and gagged so that he's unable to respond to their taunts. Bullies don't like a response. They have only one reason for their existence: to torment those who are in a weaker position and to gloat about the things that they own.
I know they tell him what they're planning to do with me.
"I bet your boyfriend has a sweet ass..." I hear someone say.
"I'll impale him on my dick," another says, "and watch his face curl in pain while I seed his guts over and over. How does it feel to know your boyfriend is going to be dripping with our cum?" One of them grabs Talen by the sweaty hair and thrusts him through the door frame into the room that will serve as his prison for the night. "Listen carefully..." the knight says to Talen, "and you'll hear us taking our turns in the next room. You'll hear our flesh slapping his butt cheeks, our tongues lapping at his feet and sucking on that giant cock of his. Keep that in mind the next time you rim him...that our dicks filled him up and all you got...boy...are the sloppy seconds."
Talen tries to throw his shoulder into one of them, but he's chained in every possible way. It just makes them laugh louder. He's crying and tears stream down his cheeks with such fury they splash on the tiled floor.
Zylander pats my cheek.
My eyes slowly return to stare at Ser Chezbernon's pupils.
"Come back to me now, my drugged beauty. I-I've got plans for you." His voice is thick with the kind of youth lust only a grandpa can feel.
"What plans, ser?" I ask. The lingering Eros floats through my brain already making me forget what just happened to Talen. All I remember is that I saw him crying, and I'm not sure why. Did it have to do with me?
"I-I never suspected you'd look like this under all that metal, although maybe I should have. Braedir's a liar, see? We've made deals with him before for slaves. But you're the first that has ever lived up to what he's stated. He even says you've been shaved. That's good because I don't like my pussies to be complicated by hair...even of the white blond variety. I like my skin smooth, unblemished, moist and young. Young is delicious...the younger the better. I just wish you were thirteen...maybe fourteen. That's the perfect age for breeding. But seventeen will do, especially when they look as you do."
He licks his lips and I close my eyes for a moment. He holds me by the chin and turns me side to side as if I'm some kind of animal. The look of those cold emerald eyes turns my blood to slush.
"Just imagine what he's going to look like nude," another says. But who is it? Ginger hair...it's so familiar. "His sweaty veined body will catch every shadow and highlight; reflect it like hard diamonds in the sun."
"Aye and his sweat tastes like ambrosia with no smell; a hint of male musk perhaps mixed with what he's wearin'. I've never seen anything like it; almost matches the legends they say the Atlanteans were like, but we all know they're dead."
Silverhawk cracks a smile. "If my lord pleaseth, I would like to be the first to lick his tight pussy. I'm sure it's so snug I'll barely be able to shove my pinky into it. The boyfriend says he never fucked him...not in the years they knew each other. We've got ourselves a practical virgin...minus anything that might have happened before he was twelve. Whoever got to him as a child robbed us of the best sweets. But the candy that's left over has aged and makes my cock harder than steel."
"I wish I'd fucked him at twelve!" Mordred yells.
They laugh.
"Is that so?" Zylander asks, kissing me again. He opens his dripping mouth so wide it almost engulfs the end of my elegant nose. My mouth fills with his saliva as his tongue rolls over my own. If his lust burns as red coals, then the heat of his body scorches the delicate tissues on the inside of my cheeks. Sweat drips down the side of my face, and I close my eyes hoping for a dream.
Zylander thrusts me against the wall over and over.
Clank clank clank sounds my armor.
I open my eyes; feel his codpiece pressuring my groin. It's hard to breathe.
Is this what it will look like when I'm under him, my hands pinned, and my ass laid bare before his oiled and lubricated dick? Will he force me to use his broad shoulders as footrests?
Tethyr I'm so hot; I'm so tired. I silently pray. Please help me...please help Talen. We're suffering. "I'm at your mercy..." I whisper.
"Yes...yes you are," Zylander says, thoroughly enjoying me.
His grin does not look loving. Any tenderness he had for me has been replaced.
At this, Ephram, the knight with black hair and steel gray eyes, laughs loud and clear. The tone rings like a bell struck from silver. "By tomorrow morning, his hole will be so loose he'll be able to take two dicks at once! One from behind and another in front. I hope he bleeds!"
Behind Ser Chezbernon, I hear chains rattle, and I see two of the Timeron knights thrust Talen backward. He falls onto the floor of a bedroom and then they lock the door. Now alone with the knights, I stand in a hallway backed into a makeshift corner by the presence of three hulking breastplates. They belong to men who've made love to my mouth for hours now. They've done everything possible to me without removing anything more than my helmet. My hair has been combed, licked, spit upon...my ears nibbled...bruises raised on my neck. And I've swallowed more tongue water that DIDN'T belong to me...I swear I've been drowning in an ocean of it.
I try to see where I am while practicing my best breathing control. My small nostrils are almost plugged from the spit...from the attention...of these lust-filled soldiers.
Religious frescoes and friezes decorate the stones. High above, a dome of stained glass caps walls that rise forty feet straight up. High and narrow windows flicker with red lightning. The glow comes from the underbelly of angry storm clouds created by nearby Tempest Mountain. Every groan from the volcano makes the earth shake just a little.
Or is it me who shudders?
Zylander leans in and deepens his caresses that he bestows upon me. He's seven inches taller than I. His broad shoulders smell of oiled plate and sweat and his mustache tickles as it rubs against my upper lip. His breath smells of tobacco.
"Call me papa," he orders. "I think I'd like that, since you're a boy worthy of me...worthy of my loins."
Slowly, he moves my sopping wet hair over my ears. Drops of clear saliva mixed with my own moisture splash the ground. Then he says a single sentence that takes a minute to utter, broken up between unnatural caresses.
"My..." he kisses me
"Beautiful..." another kiss.
"Blond..." he latches onto my lips and sucks on my tongue.
"Son...."
As he tongues my lips and presses his mouth eagerly to mine, I rub my fingers through his black hair.
"Papa?" I query.
My voice is weak, growing sore from a sickness that's taking root in the back of my throat and which may produce a fever by morning. Perhaps it's exhaustion, the drugs, and all the strange mouths. Perhaps it is the swapping of spit that's making me ill. But even as I say that word, the Eros gives me a vision of my real father, and my heart swells.
"The knights carry syphilis..." Famesa whispered those words to me once.
I know she means to scare me. Although she's not here, I'm haunted by her face.
SHE IS THE GIRL WITH THE YELLOW EYES!
Yellow Eyes....
What is syphilis? Do the knights even know how unclean they are? Would they knowingly give me a disease? Do they care for anyone other than themselves?
My real father never held me like this. He never invaded my mouth or gave me the impression he wanted more. Even swimming in drugs, I know something terrible is happening, but I'm powerless to prevent it.
"That's more like it..." Zylander says with a grin. Then he presses me against the wall while other knights snicker around me. Even through my breastplate, I can feel his hand groping lower. It trails over my abdomen to softly cup my enlarged balls, to grope at my semi-hardened dick inside the priapus. "Would you like to make papa happy?" he asks me. "Papa wants to see you naked soon. And papa will want to bring his friends." The knight captain turns to his men. "His cock is fucking colossal! It'll be magnificent to suck and to have him fuck us."
"Is it as large as the auditor said it was?" Alec asks.
"Larger..." Zylander says, the gleam of white teeth is all I see in his maw.
I hurt from the squeezing, and they laugh while I cry out in pain.
More grins...more lascivious grins.
I only fuck Talen. What will they say when I tell them no?
I nod, a little afraid, but also growing used to his strength and his arms around me. "Yes," I say to him. "I want to make papa happy." I'm short of breath and they mistake it for passion.
"Can I lick his feet?" Logan asks. He lowers himself to the ground and laps at the top of my boots where the stains have made lines against the leather. He even sniffs at the tops of them to catch any scent that might linger there...any hint of the flavor that waits. "I've been staring at them for an hour now...wondering if he has long bony toes that don't touch, clear nails, and veins running across the tops with high arches on the bottom."
"Sure," Zylander says, "but all that after we get the egg inside him. I'll want you to give him an injection between his toes...one that contains pure Eros and some coke just to keep him wired, and to feed my shadow demon child. We're going to fuck him until dawn. That's when we'll cut the worm out of him...by then it will consume most of his remaining body fat. I wonder what he'll look like when he's nothing but skin-draped muscle. We'll need the healing potion to keep him from dying."
Mordred walks forward.
I can hear his heavy stomp louder than all the others. I stare down at his boots, unable to comprehend what size 17 feet must look like naked. All I know is that my own can entirely purchase on just the front end of his.
The black knight speaks, and his voice is deep. "He'll look sexy. I detest fat of any kind, but he'll bruise easy. And I can't wait to find out how easy. It's going to be fun abusing this puppy." Then he addresses Alec and the others who are just now bringing up Angelaria to lock into another room.
The knights are upset with her because she refused to sign the contract of Moh-Dehl.
"My father shall hear of this!" she yells down the corridor. "Braedir...I'll never agree to your terms. You should have stuck to the original deal."
"That only benefits you, my princess," Braedir says back to her.
Mordred to Alec: "She's rather loud, don't you think?"
Alec replies with a raised eyebrow and then switches the conversation with a flick of his head to send the long brown hair scattering from in front of his eyes. "Mordred, have you ever been part of a breeding?"
The huge knight shakes his head. "Is it different than regular butt sex?"
"Quite," Alec says.
Zylander parts from my lips, leaving a trail of spit to drip from them, and I stare at him and whisper, "Please papa...I'm sleepy and hungry."
He hugs me and rocks me in his arms, kissing me on top of the head. "Listen to Alec now, so you know how tonight is going to work out for you."
Alec grins, "You're so cruel. On the Eros, he's going to associate memories of his father with you."
"And your point is?" Zy asks.
Alec shrugs and then turns back to Mordred. "I guess I wish I'd have thought of it. Ruining a boy's memory of his father by associating it with a brutal breeding? Now that's a fate for any follower of Tethyr that I can drink to!"
"HA ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
The slap of hands on the backs of armor.
"You were saying something about a 'breeding'?" Mordred asks, prompting Alec.
"Ah yes...in a 'breeding' the egg is laid by the demon down the esophagus...where it makes its way into the guts of the host to await fertilization from the knight's cock. The egg hatches on the first spurt you see, and produces an excretion which makes our cocks a little longer and as rigid as poles. It also increases the volume of our semen by tenfold. It's quite incredible. It takes something from each one of us involved and each time one of us cums inside his intestines; the embryo grows a little larger and stimulates his prostate. Mordred, our boy here will literally be panting for our dicks because it feels so good! It's the best sex you'll ever have. And being a spectator is one of the funnest roles because you'll see things you've never seen before. On someone like this twink who has an incredibly narrow waist, you'll see the bump of your rigid cock lifting the skin on his abdomen with each thrust. It may poke out an inch or more. Some of us will play games as the knights with significant length take their turn by flicking the small lump that appears on his belly in response to a particular deep thrust."
"I want to see that," Mordred states.
"And you will...in just about an hour!" Zylander declares. Then he kisses me once again. "Do you have any idea, my son, the privilege you have in being chosen for so many Timeron knights to take care of you?"
"Take care of me? What if I don't want to be taken care of?"
Zylander slaps me on the cheek. "It's not just anyone that gets our milk. But you...you'll have it dripping on the floor before midnight. Your boots and cloak will be stained with it. Your chest and mouth will gleam with it. But no matter how much it hurts...you can never complain. We don't like that. One complaint and we'll cut something from Talen that he'll miss. You might even miss it too. Do you understand?"
I nod quickly, tears streaming down my cheeks. "I won't complain, ser...papa."
Then Zylander kisses me again, almost choking me out by gripping my neck.
From behind a door, I hear Angelaria calling out for Verrr.
The other knights save for Silverhawk and Zylander leave. Zy walks me to the last door at the end of the hallway. It's an iron door held fast by a padlock and Silverhawk undoes it while Zy holds me in his strong arms, continuing to slather me, his tongue lapping over the skin of my throat and nibbling at my lips and chin. I stare upward, and I think my eyes might be deceiving me but a window slides out of place on the walls. No...the window's been cut...perhaps by diamonds.
I see faces with striking similarity. They belong to men Talen wiggled his fingers to while we waited among the crowd gathered outside this very cathedral. How did they get all the way up there? My memory is improving...is the Eros wearing off? Can I ask for more?
I look around for another hit but one is not in sight.
One holds a finger to his lips; another unwinds a long silk rope. Their operation is silent and attracts no attention because I am the distraction.
Another flicker...lightning...thunder.
The ground rumbles from the quake of the angry mountain.
Silverhawk pops open the lock, and the huge thing drops into his massive hand. "The egg layer awaits our skinny twink behind this door, milord." His voice is edgy, and I swallow hard and try not to think of what an "egg layer" looks like exactly. Do I even want to know?
Zylander pins me against the wall and says, "Give me your knife," to Silverhawk. He says it with such urgency that it frightens me; his forearm across my breastplate puts enough pressure on my collarbone that I start to ache. "Let's have a look at his little pussy first...I don't want to wait until after dinner. I want to see if it tastes as good as my imagination says it will."
"I bet it tastes like warm cherry pie..." Silverhawk says, wiping the drool from his mouth.
The ginger-haired knight hands the commander his dagger and then moves to a position in front of me, holding my shoulders rigid in such a way that Zylander can get behind me with ease. The huge leader sweeps my cloak aside with his right hand. I hear him lowering onto his haunches, and then feel him kneading the muscular globes of my ass with his bare fingers. I've never felt anyone do this to me with such purpose, and I dread what may come if he cuts through my priapus and lays bare my hole that, until now, has really only felt Talen's fingers and tongue.
I know he means to plow me down there, and I close my eyes against the inevitable.
Four men drop down from above, silent as cats, each armed with crossbows loaded and locked. One gets Silverhawk in the neck and it protrudes through to the other side. He gasps and staggers backward, clutching at the quarrel poking through his bloody Adam's apple. Too late, the Commander gets to his feet, dropping Silverhawk's dagger with a loud clatter.
One of the men steps forward and grabs me. I'm thrust toward another with a rope and harness, and he fastens it about my waist and across my chest and thighs. They're all dressed in brown leather with non-descript cloaks. Brown rags conceal the lower half of their faces.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Zylander hisses leaping to his feet.
"Not so fast, chief," one of the men states, kicking the large commander hard enough that it offsets his balance and sends him sprawling. Then he shoots him with a crossbow. It goes through the armor and into his stomach. It's one of the most painful ways to die.
"Unnngggghhh..." Ser Chezbernon says, grasping at it with bloody fingers. More crossbow bolts shoot through the knight; blood sprays over the stones at my feet.
"Effective, Justin," one of the men says, making a fist and bumping it off the man's leather pauldron.
"Unlock that door," Justin orders. He's wiry like my boyfriend and has a messy mop of black hair. "Let's find Talen and get out of here."
A boy stands in front of me and removes his cowl. I should recognize him, but I can't recall his name. He has brown hair and gray eyes that seem so familiar.
"I can't go," I say, fumbling at the buckles attached to the harness. "I'm going to be a knight...they're going to give me spurs. Yellow eyes said to trust Talen, not you. I-I can't trust you."
"Good to see you again, blondie," Swift says, patting my cheek with his glove. He pulls out a bottle and a rag, wets it with chloroform, and presses it to my face. "When you wake up, you'll be safe and sound in a sanctuary to the Gray Warder. They've got you hopped up on something, and I think you'll be easier to deal with if you're unconscious." Then he motions to someone above me to pull on the rope.
I feel it going tight and begin to lose consciousness just as my feet leave the ground and the handkerchief drops away. The last thing Swift does is put a gray sack over my head.
"We'll talk later...about what you owe me for this. But first, let's get you and Talen to safety. A cleric of Tethyr wishes to speak with you."
And then blackness swallows me.
I shall post Chapter 27 next week