Xenodochium 1 ~ a story by Outlaw

Published on Dec 18, 2024

Gay

Xenodochium 1 ~ a story by Outlaw

**XENODOCHIUM
**From the Greek xenodocheion: 'a place for strangers' - temporary accommodation for pilgrims, foreigners, or guests in a monastery, inn, guesthouse, or hostel.
[Also, a shelter for the poor, or the sick.]

ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright © Author, 2022
outlaw@aol.in

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1

⚒ Like the regular ebb and flow, the unfaltering rise and fall of the rolling waves along a beachfront, the auctioneer's rhythmic monotone floated in from beyond the slightly parted door of the small backstage cubicle... filling the empty silence of the tiny space.

"300... 300?" the voice intoned, "Ah, yes, 300! Now, do I have 350?"

Little Timmy sat still... listening intently to the excited murmurs and the charged susurration... listening to the clamor and jostle of the vociferous bids... his heart thumping wildly, his pulse racing, his hands clammy as he awaited his turn... which he knew would come soon enough.

The bid had started at 100, climbing up to 350 now...

The auctioneer's unique lilting, sing-song cadence... the lulling, rhythmic chant... the singular pulse of his stentorian voice... the variable pitch and speed of his sonorous intonation, all seeming to arouse a palpable surge of excitement amongst the assembled members as he engaged them, communicating and entertaining, while also urging and encouraging... tempting them, nudging them, goading them... provoking bidding anxiety as he created an impossible sense of urgency amongst the gathered patrons with his seemingly breathless, tongue-in-cheek jocular banter!

And they responded happily, like excited children playing some game of call and response...

Timmy had been listening for the past almost one hour... had heard four boys being auctioned off, this being the fifth...

"That's a 400, thank you, sir," he heard the auctioneer announce in the distance, "do I get a 450?"

Timmy didn't know if he was alone or if there were other boys in the room... didn't know if any of the staff were there or not... didn't even know where Zac was... sitting, in utter silence... listening to the sounds of joyous symphony as it filtered in from the hall beyond...

"Do I have 600?" Timmy heard the auctioneer's urgent query, "A 600... yes, I have 600... do I hear 650?"

There followed a flurry of chatter as Timmy held his breath... his mind flitting as he wondered what lay in store for him... the thought sending a slight shiver down his spine, making his stomach knot in nervous agitation...

Oh, he so wanted it to be Zac... not just his first time... but FOREVER...

Alas, getting caught was their undoing, and now they both had to pay the price!

"And I have an 800!" the stentorian call of the auctioneer jerked Timmy back to the present, "800 dollars... do I have 850?"

There were more chatters... the man repeating urgently, "Do I have 850? Give me 850!"

But it seemed there were no takers, the background hum slowly dying down, the auctioneer's phonation the sole sound in the subdued chamber...

"800, gentlemen..." the auctioneer goaded, "800, last call..."

For some unknown reason Timmy's young heart skipped a couple rapid beats, suddenly racing as he waited, with bated breath...

"Fair warning..." the man called, pausing for a dramatic brief moment before recommencing his fast-paced chant, "800... eight hundred going once... going twice... aaaaaand SOLD!" Timmy heard him roar as the wooden gavel came down with a loud thump.

"Eight hundred dollars..." the man announced with a finality as the gathering broke out in applause, "to the gentleman in the back... Thank you sir!"

Another boy had just been sold, for $800, the third highest that evening... and little Timmy felt his flaccid cock buzz and tingle at the thought of his own impending auction.

Thoughts and images of the coming night suddenly swamping his benumbed mind... making him wonder at all the possibilities... sensing his arousal begin its slow, slimy journey down his twitching urethra. His untouched, pristine anus flutter and pout with anxious anticipation before clenching shut, tight in coy modesty.

Suddenly, desperately missing Zac... wanting him by his side... wanting to hold him, be held by him... ruing getting caught, being busted.

⚒    ⚒    ⚒

Just about three hours north of the world's greatest city, and a short hour's drive south from a premier university campus, as the interstate swept past the awe inspiring, startlingly rugged Atlantic coastline, meandering through some lush countryside, one could be forgiven if they blinked and missed the narrow lane that branched out... missed the tiny board announcing the name of the quaint little village by the coast it led to...

Encircled by a swath of emerald green and fronted by a bunch of stunted junipers, Betsville was nestled in a cove beyond the steep windswept bluff overgrown with tall grass -- a one-street, nondescript little village of misty mornings and mellow lights.

Secluded under a stunning azure blue sky, brushed by the sea and swept by the salty breeze... its picturesque candy-striped lighthouse of forgotten vintage and a shoreline of dirty gray gravelly sand constantly buffeted by waves, Betsville had remained suspended in a time warp of some gone by era, almost unknown to the outside world.

And it would have remained that way, sequestered in its pristine isolation, unseen and unheard of... unvisited... but for two things:

ONE: The Thorton College of Liberal Arts -- a prestigious institute a couple miles up the interstate, its sprawling campus as lush as the surrounding countryside. A school to which parents sent their kids in the assured knowledge that the worst they need worry about was probably excessive drinking, and some unruly teenage hijinks.

The bored college kids with no other place to go, with no big city nearby, thronging the tiny village and its deserted beach to while away their time. Crowding the few stores along the one, main street - eating, hanging out, flirting with local lasses... and, of course, a quick tumble-in-the-hay in the outlying fields and barns!

The college kids in turn attracting the 'spotters' from the Xenodochium -- scouts on the lookout to recruit the best amongst those fresh college lads!

TWO: The Xenodochium -- a premier, strictly private, gentlemen's club for the VERY privileged (and the VERY powerful), further down the coast... nestled in the woods beyond the tiny village, Betsville the sole gateway to it.

Though, unknown to the simple village folks, it wasn't merely a 'club' for the rich and well-connected. It was in fact a safe (and secure) haven where some VERY distinguished gentlemen from across the country came to indulge in, and satisfy, their most secret, most cherished carnal caprices -- lustful desires entangled in the warp and weft of puritanical proprieties -- without rending the weave of societal devoir!

Sexual proclivities that, if made public, would leave an unsuspecting nation stunned and staggering!

And all in the lap of exquisite luxury... the highend gated retreat, with its luxurious private villas and cottages set amidst sprawling lawns and blooming gardens, boasting of crystal clear swimming pools, spa & sauna, bars and multi-cuisine dining... a mini golf course, and a very private beach along the sun-drenched shoreline...

A veritable paradise with everything a man of impeccable taste and discernment could ever want in his escape from the rough and tumble of everyday life -- the powerplays, the backroom maneuverings, the boardroom trade-offs and the constant wheelin' and dealin'...

Offering them everything that they could ever dare to dream of... including the most exclusive 'Stable' in the whole country, well stocked with the choicest collection of the best studs, fillies and colts at their beck and call -- fresh, strapping young lads of every possible type and variety, and willing to please!

The guests came to indulge in their amoral liaisons... to pursue illicit affairs... to be their real selves away from the prying eyes of the world!

Some came with their current boyfriend (boytoy or 'kept' as some may rudely put it), some came with their steady, long-term partners, while others came alone, to sample and enjoy the 'goods' on offer at the club's much touted, in-house 'stable'!

The place booked full on most weekends, and especially around Memorial and Labor Day weekends... the 4th of July, and Veterans Day weekends... and even Thanksgiving weekend!

The townspeople never saw the men behind the tinted windows as the high-end, luxury cars zoomed down their single street. But if they could, they'd sure recognize most of the faces from the frontpage of newspapers, and the various news and entertainment TV channels!

⚒    ⚒    ⚒

⚒ Oh, he so wanted it to be Zac... just Zac -- the only one to take him, breach his vestal boyhood, and pop his cherry... breed him and make him a man. Not some rich stranger who bids the highest!

Lost in his thoughts, Timmy hadn't heard the approach, didn't even realize that someone had entered the room... the touch on his shoulder making him almost jump as he let out a surprised gasp...

"You're up next, Timmy, let's go..." he heard Zac's tender voice as the youth took Timmy's elbow and gently stood him up.

It was his turn now... he was on the block - the next, and final, Lot of the evening - ready to be sold to the highest bidder for the night!

"Excited?" he heard Zac ask softly as he carefully led him out of the back room, headed for the stage...

Timmy let out a small whimper in response, the very first sound he'd made since the evening had started.

"Nervous?" Zac questioned, the tone seeming bemused, passing his other arm around the slender waist of the boy, pulling him close, "Don't worry, you'll do fine... you won't just break records, you'll set new ones!"

Timmy heard the rustle of heavy drapes, and suddenly, despite the padded blindfold, sensed the powerful glare of the lights, quickly realizing that he was on stage now...

"Ah... and here we are, gentlemen..." Timmy heard the voice of the auctioneer, loud and clear, real close this time, "our final Lot of the evening... thank you, Zac."

Timmy couldn't see, true... but he could hear, and he could sense -- with his eyes blindfolded, all his other sensory faculties were on high alert, everything magnified -- it was electric in that room, the silent air literally crackling with the charge... even their bated breath seemed to resound in the stillness!

He heard the collective gasp, soon followed by excited murmurs of approval as Zac led him forward... gently helping him onto the auction block -- a slightly raised platform on which the boy on sale was stood for display -- the congregation suddenly falling silent, a leaden hush descended all around him...

Timmy felt the jitters begin, deep within his gut as his stomach tied up in knots... slowly radiating out, gradually spreading... his slender teen frame suddenly shaken by uncontrollable tremors...

And that tingle in his genitals, now more pronounced, and powerful, filling his whole pubic region, engulfing his crotch. His firm buttocks -- the silken smooth skin stretched taut over the awesome full and fleshy mounds -- literally bristling under the satin robe!

He felt the cheeks flex and tighten as the carefully hidden jewel of his pristine boyhood, his unseen little vestal orifice constrict even further, cringing shut, while his teen cock shrank down to a tiny stub... his nuts crawling up high to knot at the base of his shrunken penis.

His heart was pounding, his pulse racing like a freight train... his smooth satiny skin bristling... and despite the nervousness, and the uncertain fears, he sensed that first drop of precum finally complete its journey along the urethra, gently oozing out of the tiny slit at the tip of his shrunken teen cock...

"Gentlemen..." the Master of Ceremonies, the auctioneer, announced with a flourish, "I now present to you tonight's Blind Lot... young Timothy!

The sound was deafening as the high domed central hall resounded with the joyous applause of the gathered men, some even whistling and hooting!

It sent a frisson of nervous excitement coursing down Timmy's already tingling spine... for a brief, fleeting moment his thoughts veering back to Zac... back to thoughts of lost opportunities, and the impossibility of Zac being the one!

~ to be continued


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright © Author, 2022
outlaw@aol.in

For more stories by same author click here

Next: Chapter 2


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