The Heathens

By Bearpup

Published on Apr 12, 2017

Gay

Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/historical/the-heathens/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex between young-adult and adult men. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty TODAY at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.


He tousled my hair and sat back and I looked up at him, tears streaming. His words were a tonic, but what set my innards alight with transcendent joy was far simpler. At least that once, he slipped and called me puppy. "After a day from hell, I think another camp day is required. I need to recover enough to murder your stringy carcass, Pameten," He smiled, "and I think I need a little more 'UM'."


The Heathens 13: Post UM-gasmic Bliss

By Bear Pup

M/T; oral; rimming/fingering; over-cumming; masturbation

We relieved ourselves, and I found the courage to play with my master's stream, which he found amusing and delightful, trying to direct it in a way that prevented me from running a hand through it. It was a game I would use for a long time to help tease Harcos out of black studies, but this first time, this original, spontaneous, unplanned and innocent episode is one that I will carry to paradise and share with the other saints. There was a purity to it that charmed Harcos and thrills me, that day to this.

I hung my sodden camp shirt over the tent-side so it would dry in the night, and scampered nude inside to the hooting amusement of Pam and Zajak. I gasped loudly at what awaited me. Harcos was already stripped and lying stretched upon the furs. His massive manhood was thick but pliant, resting across his right hip. I whined like a dog (puppy?) as I rushed forward than came to a screeching halt before him.

In careful but broken Latin, I asked, "May I touch your most sacred parts, my saviour." Harcos eyes went misty for a moment; I do not to this day know why. I tried a different phrase, "May I please give you the UM you need, my Al--Harcos?" I desperately wanted to call him my Aldus again, but I knew I had not yet earned that privilege.

He chuckled and nodded and I began to lick and cleanse the sweat of the day, first from his balls, then the leakage from his cock. I then became a wild creature, utterly obsessed with the sweat and musk of my master. From foot to forearm, from hairline to hip, I cleaned every part of Harcos I could reach. When I returned to his taint, he hissed his approval, but seemed less enthusiastic when I did his balls, so I moved to that massive, leaking, delicious font of holy water, driving into the foreskin and eliciting a loud and sustained moan.

I was briefly airborne and I landed with knees on either side of Harcos' wide and furry chest. I continued to attack the source of that wondrous nectar until my head snapped back and my back arched, my throat closed on a scream that came out of a strangle squeal. I'd felt nothing like this, ever. It took me forever to understand even where this new sensation came from... my tiny puckered ass. Longer to understand what caused it. When I did, I nearly erupted. Harcos was licking, nibbling and teasing that most-secret part of my body. When I realised what was happening and the incredible heat it drove through my, body and soul, I hunched twice, driving my cock into the thick fur of my master's chest, and screamed my joyous release.

I think it was as much to silence me as to get me back to his cock, but Harcos impaled my mouth on his member. I continued to spasm my seed as he continued to tongue-fuck my ass. It was a Rapture undreamt-of by John himself. I lost that concept, though, in the taste and texture of my master's magnificent manhood. I redoubled my efforts, but was distracted once again as I felt Harcos fumble to the side for something then return to my ass with tongue and... fingers slicked with rabbit fat.

I knew that God heard the words of the soul and not the mouth, so even though I had Harcos as far inside my mouth as I could stretch, I screamed prayers for the salvation and blessing of those week-departed rabbits that gave Harcos the grease he now used. A finger entered me, stroking and teasing. A second, stretching and filling. A third widening and pushing the edges of pain.

That was when Harcos started to... fuck me with his wide, thick, furry paw. He again found that nub of sacred flesh deep within and I went simply wild upon his dick. My mindless assault sped his ministration, but I ceased to be a conscious person as I struggled to suck everything he had within me and wriggle my ass to increase the sensation my master's fingers were causing deep within.

As if by magic, it happened again as it had the previous night. I swallowed at exactly the wrong/right moment and the magnificent prick went past the gate of my throat. I began to swallow convulsively, over and over, driven further into a frenzy by the action at my other end. I was abruptly shocked that my nose began to poke and probe the ball-sac at the root of my master's prick. Right then, Harcos drove his fingers HARD into me and gave me a massive, stinging slap on my upturned ass with his other hand.

I screamed around his dick and started to spew yet again onto the furry chest, and that vibrating scream echoed into Harcos' soul and triggered his own explosion. His seed thickened his manhood, locking it in place, as he deposited his seed directly into my gullet. I writhed and moaned around the precious invader until the very last drop was drained.

And we rolled over and went into a contented slumber, The End... My the One True God and every false god in Rome damn that to an icy hell!

I was having none of it. I dove onto his chest and sucked every single hair free of my own copious loads, then proceeded to clean the fuck-sweat off every part of his body I could reach. His armpits were ripe and fragrant, and I wallowed my face and head around to coat myself in his glorious scent. When I got to his belly button, he giggled; that tickled him, and I took advantage of his distraction to (I have no idea how) flip him onto his stomach.

"We have much UM to complete this night, my A--Harcos!"

I started now to repeat the cleansing process on his nearly-hairless back, licking the ridges between each meeting of muscles, his fingers and elbows, the tender and delicate skin behind his knees (an interesting effect, that particular moan-whine, and I stored it for future contemplation). I had saved the greatest treasure for last, though I'd never have thought of it as anything short of vile and disgusting before. But the inescapable pleasure that his tongue had given me in the trench of my own ass was fresh and poignant in my mind.

I dove in with a passion. There was an earthy musk that disgusted me at first, but I spit to the side and returned. It was soon cleansed and only Harcos was left and I feasted like a starving man. Suddenly, I found that fold, that star, that nexus of flesh and pleasure and began to devour it with tongue, lips, chin, teeth. Everything came into play as I attempted to make a meal of my master's most-secret place. His moans and near-screams of elation nearly sent me crashing to my third eruption.

I helped him flip again, gazing with love and longing at his glorious prick. I looked to the sides and spotted my target quickly, palming it so he could not see. I plunged down and began to nurse and tease his manhood until he squirmed, then I stealthily moved a rabbit-slicked hand behind those massive and amazing balls. I found his secret place just as I took him all the way down my throat and Harcos hollered in surprise, negation and exultation. I teased for only a moment and plunged my middle finger deep. Luck was on my side and I hit that nubbin of ecstasy on the first thrust, and Harcos let loose a primal howl of jubilation as he started to again paint my throat with his sacred seed.

Harcos tried ineffectually to push me away; I was possessed as if by demons, but knew in my heart of hearts that they were angels of the Lord God. Even as he screeched in overstimulation and tried to pry my suckling lips from his most-tender parts, I slipped a second and, reluctantly (on his ass's part) third finger into the tight and writhing channel. The other hand flew between his taint and his tits, pinching, stroking, teasing in turn.

I pulled two more load out of my master before my fuck-frenzy abated. Harcos had wept and begged after the penultimate orgasm, desperate for me to give him respite... denied. When his final orgasm shook him like a doll and I was finally sated, Harcos screamed out once and dove into the deepest sleep like a candle snuffed. I curled like an actual puppy into his chest and pulled the coverings over us both.

I awoke before the first traces of dawn corrupted the blue-black night, with a desperate need to void myself. I completed the task and cleaned myself, then returned to the tent where my precious saviour laid in near-comatose slumber. I quietly pulled all I would need for a larger-than-normal breakfast and set out to find what I wanted. I had heard a distinctive call the day before, even though I was in no fit state to do anything about it at the time. I found four nests and, as luck would have it, the male decided to defend them, giving me dinner as well as breakfast (as well as a nasty set of peck- and claw-wounds).

I gathered a few herbs in the early light and set to cooking. I used the salt and herbs, and poured the mixture into a thin stone bowl which I set at the edge of the fire, turning it frequently. I set about a quick-bread, thicker than the one Harcos had shown me on my first night, but well-suited to the rough flour in one of the tight-sealed sacks, especially with the egg and salt to give it volume.

Zajak came out and relieved himself, then joined me at the fire. He looked down and clucked. It was then that I realised that I was still naked, and quite-obviously coated the remnants of the Night of the Epic Um. I blushed and retrieved my camp-shirt from the tent-side, now dry of piss but damp with morning dew. I stayed nude for a few minutes while I dried it over the fire. The smell, a combination of my own sweat, piss from my beloved master and smoke for the redolent fire made me giddy.

Harcos emerged, looked at the fire and smiled widely before taking care of his morning needs. I had a feeling that my normal morning ministrations would... not be well received after the amount of Um I'd given him through the night. I smiled at my guess as Harcos came to the fire, trying in vain to tug his ample nuts into a position that ached a little less.

He settled onto the log and I literally leapt into his lap, eliciting a loud yelp as I caught his hypersensitive nads, and nearly unseating us both. We ended up a giggling and laughing mass of arms until he finally settled me and began to pet my back and whisper sweat everythings into my ear. I wept with joy as he used both puppy and Kucuk in addressing me, and I exulted in calling him my Aldas. The words of the dream-phantom of Strasta whispered that I had returned to the holy course that would let become his Szentély. I purred more like a kitten than a puppy as the Zajak tended to the eggs, slowly turning the bowl.

Pameten emerged and Zajak scuttled to him, accompanying him behind the tents, Harcos and I shared a wide and knowing smile as no sound of splashing came from that quarter, but only a loud moan, then a loud cry of fulfilment a few minutes later. Both returned to the campfire and we put sombre and studious faces on, making it all the more obvious that we were gently mocking them. Pam looked content and a bit surprised; Zajak looked more like the sated fox than the hare his name implied.

Both men exclaimed over the fine cock I'd caught, a mountain-fowl like a pheasant but less showy, as it hung draining at the camp-edge. In the local tongue, it was the kolqirqovul. As we'd recovered from Pameten's 'Blue Lotus' nightmare, we spent the day in language and fighting lessons. For the first time, though, Pam and Harcos sparred, real weapons in play and Zajak and I watched in horrified awe. We both squealed at each close call, and moaned whenever an attack met its target. We were clutching each other tightly in desperation by the time the two sweaty men finally disengaged and began chatting like the oldest, fastest friends.

Zajak looked at Harcos as I would have looked at a black scorpion, with undisguised disgusted loathing, as he rushed to Pameten and began to minister his nearly invisible scratches and scrapes, with many a poisonous glare at my master. I have to admit to similar looks at the villainous Pameten as I worked to soothe and salve my master's horrific and unnecessary wounds. In retrospect, neither warrior got more than a bruise or small nick, but Zajak and I were utterly convinced of the terrible toll our individual masters had endured at the hand of the other.

The noon meal was camp rations: dried meat, grain and a little of Pam's precious beer. They pitted us against each other again in the afternoon, but cruelly yelled questions at us throughout, breaking our concentration at the worst possible moment. Zajak and I were both bruised and grumpy as the trial wrapped up, but the wooden swords could not cause more than embarrassment, really.

Zajak and I plucked and butchered the kolqirqovul bird, with nary a civil word between us. That is until we both overheard Pam 'whispering' (a tone that could be heard several valleys away) that they'd done a great job setting us against each other and they'd certainly fooled us into become friendly rivals. We whispered between ourselves, far more effectively, and Zajak scurried off to find the leaves of a very specific plant, one used in Manhood Rituals across the area. We crushed and applied the coating below the skin along with the other seasonings and let it sit while we prepared the fire.

The kolqirqovul sparked and flared as the rich meat cooked over the loving and fragrant flames and an amazing scent began to fill the little hollow. I wrapped carrots and onions in leaves and threw them straight onto the coals. They were served alongside the succulent fowl. Zajak and I kept our faces neutral as we began to eat the lethally-spicy flesh, thanks to those unexpected leaves we'd used.

Pameten and Harcos both took huge bites of the birds and chewed for a couple of seconds before freezing. Their eyes widened as their faces reddened. They lunged for the depleted beer which only made it worse. Carrots and onions seemed to just spread the burn as well. Zajak and I chatted and smiled normally as our masters coughed and sweated. Finally, Pam could take no more and said, "Eh, Zajak, what do you call this?"

"The bird, Pameten? We call it kolqirqovul, or bush-pheasant"

"Um, er, no. The, uh, the preparation."

He smiled innocently. "OH! The flavouring! We call that c?za*. Do you like it?"

[*If you can't see that character, it's a schwa between the 'c' and the 'z']

"Well, um, uh, it's very, er, interesting. How do you, well, calm the..."

"Yes, my Pameten?"

He looked in desperation at Harcos.

"The, um, incredible burning?"

"Burning, honoured Pameten? I can feel no burning. Do you find burning, friend-Kucuk? Our children eat c?za all the time. Are you saying it is too intense, my beloved master?"

Pam was trapped between honesty and emasculation. I saw Harcos suddenly round on me with slitted eyes. "Kucuk, please attend me for a moment." I reluctantly moved to his side and he whispered in my ear, "This joke was well made, but the next time you make food this hot I will gladly roast YOU over that same fire. I will do it slooooowly, little boy. Do you understand me, little soon-to-be-skewered puppy?" I nodded frantically. And he turned.

"Pam, I can't imagine what the problem is. This is wonderful! A truly delightful and gentle flavour. Are you... having trouble with it? Should I ask my Kucuk to make, perhaps, a pabulum for you? Perhaps a gentle porridge of grains suitable to your, well, advanced age?" My master was masterful, leaving Pam no retreat. Zajak and I watch with glee as Pameten consumed his portion and I snuck some of the inner pieces with less spice to my master. Harcos looked placidly at me, but the glint in his eye screamed that I would pay for this prank.

We eventually retired, Pam pouring sweat and panting, the beer long-consumed. Harcos made it clear that there would be no UM for desert, but he did fondle and tease me as we cuddled. I was wriggly enough that he finally brought me off just to calm me enough to sleep, cooing and crooning into my ear even as I tried not to shout to the world my elation at his touch as much as my own eruption.

If you want to get mail notifying you of new postings, e-mail me at orson.cadell@gmail.com

Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Karl & Greg: 21 chapters .../incest/karl-and-greg/ Canvas Hell: 18 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 10 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 13 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Off the Magic Carpet: 5 chapters .../military/off-the-magic-carpet/ Lake Desolation: 4 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/

Next: Chapter 13


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