Sometimes, when duty did not require him to serve in the garrison, Horembeb loved wearing just a plain loincloth and a skirt that did not qualify him as belonging to the military caste or any other social class. He wore no jewellery, no make-up, and travelled the countryside, the desert, the villages on foot, enjoying a freedom that his rank seldom granted him.
Not infrequently, during these incognito trips, he could find a boy who, either for his flattery or for a coin, agreed to withdraw with him in a bush to give him what he wanted. Horembeb liked these conquests, and for a long time enjoyed the boys that he could convince to yield to him. He was a young man, strong and beautiful, and could easily bend to his wishes the boys who lit his desire.
He gradually developed his own technique, a combination of strength, seduction and enticements that rarely failed. He was also a tireless and expert lover, and frequently the boys he seduced in the end asked him if they could see him again, for more of the same. But Horembeb refused almost always to accept those requests - he liked to have new adventures each time.
The only boy who was often in his arms and between his strong legs was his slave and scribe Chike. But, while the boy was madly in love with Horembeb, the strong horseman felt for the boy only a sincere and tender, but not deep, affection. Chike knew it and was satisfied, enjoying the times, not few, in which his master wanted him in his bed.
Horembeb was twenty-six, and it was the first month of the Akhet season, that is of the flood. He had gone out wearing his anonymous clothes to roam the countryside. Leaving his horse, he went into the fields, passing several irrigation canals, until he arrived at the great river that was slowly beginning to invade the lands, depositing its fertile silt.
>From a small hill he saw some soldiers arranged in a regular pattern, as if they were checking an invisible border. He wondered why they were there and what they were doing. Maybe it was just training, he thought. He felt like putting their skills to the test, so he decided to cross their line without being seen, almost like a game.
Horembeb was certainly more than an expert, so he managed to pass them without too much difficulty and without being seen. Satisfied, he moved forward some more. He was about to stand up, to mock the soldiers, when he saw a boy who was leaving a small pool of clear water. He was almost naked, beautiful, about thirteen or fourteen years old. He had a slender body, not strong but neither skinny, with the signs of maturity already evident. He was only wearing a loincloth, that was a little dirty with earth and grass. The boy was laying down on a little meadow, to dry in the warm rays of the sun.
The handsome horseman felt a desire for that boy light up, and decided that he had to have him. He looked around: the soldiers were no longer in sight and he saw nobody nearby. The place was protected from one side by bushes that bordered the stretch of grass where the boy was laying, with his eyes closed and a smile on his beautiful lips. Two other sides were closed by high dunes, and the fourth by the pool of water.
Horembeb arrived silently beside the boy. He admired the young body, still wet with drops of water that sparkled in the sun, and got a strong erection. He heard the boy murmuring something and caught some words:
"... the land is bright
When thou risest above the horizon,
When thou shinest as Aton in the day
All darkness disappears,
When thou sendst thy rays
The Two Lands become festive,
Get up and stand on their feet
For thou hast raised them.
Their loins in sweat, they take off all their clothes;
Their arms raised in adoration at thy rising.
Then all the world is preparing for its work.
Thou oh Aton rise, watching the men thou hast created
Thou takest them with thee and wrap their bodies
And make them lie down in thy warm embrace.
Then mankind dedicates itself to work
Happy with its daily chores, until thou goest to sleep..."
Horembeb recognized a piece of the Hymn to Aton and thought that the boy was one of the so-called "new believers". He squatted next to him and lightly stroked his chest. The boy opened his eyes and looked at him, a little surprised, but not moving.
He softly asked: "Who are you? Are you possibly Aton's envoy?"
"No, I'm just a man, sent to you by the god Horus... a man who wants to offer all the joys that he can give to you."
The boy sat up and looked at him curiously, but not at all intimidated by the presence of the unknown strong young man: "Joys? What joys you speak of, man?"
"I looked at your body - I want to take you with me, I want to wrap you with my limbs, and keep you in my warm embrace, and lie with you, to give you pleasure," Horembeb replied, paraphrasing the verses of the hymn while he continued to caress the boy's chest and stomach.
The boy smiled. "Your fingers are gentle on my body, like those of Aton..."
"And my body wants yours, it aches for you. My eyes have never seen a boy so beautiful, my loins are burning for you..."
The boy touched in turn the strong, broad chest of the young man: "You're also very beautiful... You truly seem to have been sent by a god."
"Do you already know the joys of union, my boy?" Horembeb asked, stroking his cheek, feeling an urgent desire to kiss the pretty mouth and soft lips.
"The mystical union?" the boy asked, looking into his eyes.
"Mystic and real, spiritual and physical... I want to make love to you, open the doors to the secret garden..."
"Do you want to sleep with me? Do you want to take me and make me yours? You don't know who I am..." the boy murmured.
"Yes I know: you are beauty incarnated, you are man's desire become reality, you are the dream of a heart. Let me take you in my arms, my boy."
"You don't know me, I don't know you," the boy said in an almost dreamy voice, while his hand lightly traced the young man's strong muscles.
"But if you let me guide you, you will know me as intimately as human beings can know each other. Don't you feel how much my flesh is quivering for yours?"
"I feel it... and your quivers are infecting me like a sweet sickness..."
Horembeb had to exercise a strong self-control to restrain himself, but the very beauty of the boy still made him hesitate. Then he saw that the skimpy wet loincloth of the boy was swelling, emphasizing the shape of his penis. So he laid his hand on it, with the palm rubbing it gently. The boy shuddered.
"Let me take you in my arms, my boy."
"I have never known either man or woman..." the boy whispered.
" Then let me guide you in the beautiful and mysterious ways of love," Horembeb said and took him in his arms, pulling the boy to himself.
The boy shuddered with more force against the chest of the handsome horseman. Horembeb girded him with his legs and made him feel his glorious erection. Then he took his face in his hands and kissed him. The boy let him do it, at first passively then began to instinctively respond to that hot, passionate kiss, abandoning himself in Horembeb's strong arms.
The young man undid the boy's loincloth and got rid of his own, then stroked the little and firm ass. Poking a finger between the buttocks of the sweet boy, he spotted the hidden hole and teased it with a finger, gently and skillfully.
"Give me access to your secret chambers, my boy. Accept my messenger of pleasure. Open the door and welcome the visitor who begs hospitality..."
"You are strong, you can do with me what you want. You are beautiful, you know how to please my eyes. You are brave, you know how to bend my will. You are sensuous, you know how to awaken my desire..."
"It is sufficient for you say yes, and I will be your guide. It is sufficient that you say no, and I will be a man without peace."
"Yes..." the boy whispered, and his hand went gently down to hold the strong horseman's hard member.
"You'll welcome me in you?"
"Yes, guide me, for I have no experience with these things..."
Horembeb kissed him again, then made the boy lay back with his legs against his chest, and admired the perfect ass. Not having with him the ointment, and knowing that for the boy this had to be the first time, he leaned over him and pushed his face in the furrow between the small buttocks. He inhaled and smelled a faint and pleasant aroma. With his tongue he began to explore the pink bud of flesh, carefully wetting it with saliva. The virgin ring shuddered and the boy let out a little moan of pleasure.
The young man licked it for a long time, sometimes pushing in the tip of his tongue, sometimes trying the inviolate entrance with a finger, until he felt it tremble with greater intensity, throbbing, open a little and immediately close with force.
"Let yourself go, boy. You mustn't be afraid of me, I don't want to hurt you, believe me," Horembeb said, raising his head to look at the beautiful blue-eyed boy.
"I believe you, I'm not afraid of you. Your eyes contain no evil, I just read in them an ardent desire..."
"Yes, you have lit a fire inside me, my boy. I never wanted anyone as I am now wanting you..."
"Are you sincere, man?"
"I swear on all the gods. I swear on the head of Pharaoh," the strong young man said with complete sincerity and deep conviction, caressing the boy's body and his beautiful erection.
The boy smiled: "You swear on the head of Pharaoh? Don't you know that swearing on the head of the Pharaoh can amount to a death sentence?"
"Only if the oath is false. And mine is not. Receive me in you, I beg you."
"Take me..." the boy whispered.
Horembeb put the boy's slender but muscled legs on his shoulders, wet his hard rod with saliva and pushed its point between the small buttocks of the boy. He began to push on the ring of flesh.
"Wait," the boy murmured, stiffening a little.
"I cannot any longer, forgive me, but I really can't..." the strong horseman almost groaned, pushing again. "Don't try to resist me, boy. I don't want to hurt you, I want to give you pleasure. But if you resist you will experience pain and I will be sorry. Let me get into you. Open the door of your stronghold and let my army invade you. Open the door of your palace, and let my messenger tell you how much I like you. Open the door of your temple and let my high priest perform his ritual and dance for you, in you, with you..."
"I... I do not know," the trembling boy gasped, but without trying to escape.
Horembeb pushed again and felt the elastic ring of flesh begin to yield.
"Wait..." the boy wailed, placing both hands on the man's muscular chest and trying to keep him away from himself, but without really rejecting him.
"Too late now..." the handsome horseman said in a hoarse voice, his eyes bright, and with a subtle smile he pushed again.
The tip of his hard member was already embedded in the vestibule of the untouched temple of flesh.
"Here I am, my boy," Horembeb gasped, continuing to push and caressing the young body beneath him.
"Yes, yes..." the boy murmured.
The strong soldier, encouraged by those two words, pushed with greater vigour and slowly slipped it all inside.
"Ah..." the boy murmured.
"I do not want to hurt you, my splendid boy!" Horembeb said, continuing to invade the hot narrow channel.
"It is so big, so strong..."
"Bear the initial discomfort, then you too will be happy."
"It is hot... it is... it is... wonderful!"
"You like it?" Horembeb asked with bright eyes.
"It's strange: pleasure and pain in an odd mix..."
"Don't ask me to stop now, do not send me away from you... I would not listen to you, at this point."
"No, but you promised me pleasure..."
"And I'll give it, I swear..."
"On the head of Pharaoh?"
"On whatever you want. Relax, and the pleasure will increase, the pain will go away... I want to cum with you, my boy, and I want you to cum with me."
"Go on..."
Horembeb finally felt he was completely inside the boy. He paused to let him get used to his presence, and just made his hard rod of flesh palpitate. The boy, almost in response, made his just violated tender anus palpitate.
Then the strong soldier began to retreat a little and move back into him slowly, making sure to rub his mighty pole against the boy's magic spot. He saw a look of amazement appear in the beautiful eyes of the boy, who parted his soft lips and let out a soft sigh.
"You're right, the pain disappears, the pleasure increases. Your magic wand is doing wonders in me... go on, continue."
Horembeb began to move in stronger and faster thrusts. The boy narrowed his eyes, but they were shining brightly. Horembeb, holding him tightly in his arms, threw himself finally in a strong ride.
The boy accompanied every thrust with a soft "yes..." and caressed with increasing intensity the handsome man's muscles, that were darting with every thrust. Horembeb felt completely happy. He smiled at the handsome boy, who replied with an encouraging grin.
Finally the strong horseman began to discharge into the hot, tight, secret channel of the beautiful boy, emitting a long, soft moan of pleasure. Then, without slipping out of him, made him stretch his legs, leaned against him and kissed him deeply on his mouth. The boy replied to the kiss and caressed his strong back muscles.
Horembeb felt the boy's erection still pressing against his belly. So he slowly pulled off from him, went down with his face on the crotch of his companion and began to lick, kiss, and suck it, while caressing his small contracted testicles and the flat hollow belly. After a few minutes, the boy discharged in his mouth and the young man drank the whole liquor: it was sweet and pleasant. He drank it all with pleasure.
The boy shuddered in the throes of an intense satisfaction and moaned softly. Finally he started to relax, still trembling slightly. Horembeb took him back into his arms and kissed him on the mouth.
When they had calmed down, they sat next to each other, wearing their loincloths again.
"A little while ago you swore on the head of the pharaoh, man. It is said that the pharaoh is a capricious and spoiled boy..." the boy stated, again caressing the handsome young man's chest.
"What do you know, boy?"
"I saw him a few times."
"Really? Are you one of the servants of the court, by any chance?"
"So you could say. Yes, I'm kind of a servant of the court, in fact."
"Who is your father? A minor official?"
"My father is dead... Now it is my grandfather who takes care of me."
"Before you were reciting the hymn to Aton..."
"Don't tell anyone, please... They do not like it."
"I promise. It will be a secret between us."
"Do you promise on the head of Pharaoh?" the boy asked playfully.
"Yes, of course. I like your smile, boy. But I don't even know your name."
"Nor do I know yours. You are very beautiful."
"And you gorgeous," Horembeb said, taking him back in his arms.
He felt the boy tense up and he was a little surprised - after what had just happened between them, he was expecting a sweet surrender. The boy wriggled away from him. Horembeb was about to ask him the reason for that change, when something came into his field of vision. He barely had time to turn around, while the boy stood up, and saw them surrounded by soldiers who had their spears pointed at him .
Horembeb realized that he had been so taken by the boy, to not notice the arrival of the soldiers; he thought he had been a fool.
Without moving, appearing calm, showing his authoritarian look and his tone of command, he said: "Lower your weapons, soldiers, I am a Standard-bearer of the cavalry of his majesty!"
One of them spoke; from his insignia Horembeb understood that he was a Master of Fifty.
"Stand up slowly, if you don't want to end up like a duck on a spit."
"How dare you talk like that to a Standard-bearer, Master?" Horembeb asked, getting up slowly and without sudden movements.
"And you, how did you dare to touch the great and sacred Nebkheperure, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, the living image of Amon! Don't you know that you are punishable by death for your temerity?"
Horembeb looked wide-eyed at the boy - he saw that in the meantime slaves and servants had arrived with a sedan chair, and that they were covering the boy with beautiful dresses and royal jewelry, including the precious blue and gold headdress with the uraeus and the ceremonial pointed beard fixed to his chin.
For the first time in his life Horembeb felt something close to fear. He knelt, bowed and touched the ground with his forehead, without uttering a single sound, without even noticing that the tips of the soldiers' spears had quickly followed his movements, ready to spring and to pierce his body.
The boy's voice rose softly: "Bind him and bring him to the palace, in my rooms. But do not hurt him. I want to talk to him."
The Master of Fifty gave his orders. Horembeb was made to stand up, his wrists were tied behind his back and a rope was placed around his neck. The sedan chair, surrounded by dignitaries and slaves with fans, escorted by two rows of soldiers, was moving away. Then the Master of Fifty gave the order to go, and Horembeb was taken on the long march to the palace.
Along the way, Horembeb reflected on his fate: he would never have believed that, just by following his instincts, he would put an end to his life. Of this he was certain - he made a sacrilege, though certainly he had not even vaguely suspected it. Even though the young pharaoh had enjoyed their union... Besides, had he not told him of being a spoiled and capricious kid?
The boy had his fun with him and wanted him alive, to have fun again, this time in his own way, before having his head cut off - or have him quartered by horses - or, if he was lucky, to have his heart pierced with a sword, then his body thrown to the dogs and hyenas.
Horembeb was not afraid of death. He only regretted not having met it on the battlefield, but for having fucked a boy too beautiful... He knew he deserved the ultimate penalty, and accepted it with a steadfast heart. Indeed, he almost smiled at the thought that his career was started because of a fucking and now it was about to end because of another fucking... There was a strange sort of justice in this.
No, he was not afraid to die. Even though no one would put a coin in his mouth, nobody would embalm his body, no grave would receive his remains, and so a future life was denied to him. This was the only thing that really bothered him or, to be fully honest with himself, terrified him: not to have a life beyond death.