Date: Tue, 02 Oct 2001 13:41:13 +0000 From: Darren Talbot Subject: His eyes Chapter one His eyes Chapter One *This story involves contact between minors and adults of a sexual nature, and may be illegal in your country/state/city. Check the local laws. *This story is a work of fiction and any resemblances to those living or dead is purely coincidental ________________________________________________________ The smell of sweat is overpowering. It always has been. I remember, as a boy, how it used to make me tingle with the excitement of being near other boys. Other men. Now, it just seems bittersweet and foul. It always draws me back, though, to the time when I was that boy. Smell is a powerful time machine in that way. I had just had my thirteenth birthing day when they came. Large men in polished armor. They slaughtered my mother and father, these golden gods, and herded my sisters and me into seperate wagons. I never saw my sisters again. I like to imagine, in my minds eye, that they went on to have happy lives, and maybe even husbands. Maybe daughters of thier own. Maybe one of them had a son named after me. But not me. The Gods decided my destiny was far, far from where it began. These tall, dark curly haired men came that day, speaking some language I didn't know, and destroyed my old world. I don't remember the wagon, or the ship, except for remembering that I was queasy and surrounded by filth for weeks. The smell was sweat and fear. I remember, breifly, an boy older than me huddled close to me. I believe that we took comfort in each others bodies during that time, letting the fear die away behind our passions. We had no privacy with which to do what we did, but that didn't stop us. Modesty was a thing for the old world, the one we'd left behind. We kissed and fondled and sucked and buried the pain of our losses behind moans and gasps for each other. At times, others joined us, but mostly we were alone. Curled around each other and our grief. We never went as far as being man and woman together, though. Even in those times, there were things that men and boys did not do with each other. I remember being blinded as we came out of the hold of that ship into an alien world. It was warm here, and the sun shone brightly overhead. The winds were gentle. I was almost pleased for a moment, but then I was shoved by another man in that bright armor, and fell on my face. That is the moment that my story starts. He yelled something at me, loud and strange. I didn't speak thier language in those days. None of us coming off that boat did. As I looked up, I saw the others like me, blone haired and dirty, being led off that ship. I slowly staggered to my feet. There'd been nothing to eat, and I could hardly keep myself up. Although, the sun's warm touch felt so good on my naked body that it was enough. They herded us all to off the docks in columns. All of us were young men, beautiful in our filth, even. Though I was still just thirteen, I was already taller than the man with the whip drawn and sword at his side. In fact, I was taller than most of the men in armor. I was still very short, though, for the rest of my people. They'd said I'd never make a proper warrior back in my village. As they lined us up on a field near a large platform, I saw that a man was walking this way without armor. He had a long red cape on, and was followed by two men with swords drawn. I was watching him as he walked up to the first boy in line, a tall skinny boy who'd gone half crazed on the trip. The man, whos face seemed drawn into a perpetual sneer, started to touch the boys shoulders. He ran his hand over the boys chest, then to the boys hairless crotch and over it, rubbing it for a long time. The boy was crying with the indignity of being touched like that, and that seemed to make the man smile more. He said something to one of the men in armor who had brought us, and the boy was taken over to a different platform. It was then I understood: We were about to be sold as slaves. I'd seen them do it back where I'd come from to those unlucky enough to be caught at war. My mind, unable to accept any more than it already had merely acknowledged this fact and then fell silent again. When I heard the boy scream, I looked up and recoiled in fresh horror. Near that other platform, I saw that they had bathed the boy quickly, leaving him still semi-dirty, and then they'd taken him to where four or five other men, some old, some younger were waiting. And now, each of those men were touching themselves under thier robes while the oldest of those men was mounting the boy from behind, as a horse does with it's mare. The boy was struggling to get away, but every time he did so, the man would clout him on the back of the head until, after two of those huge blows, the boy simply lay there as the man kept thrusting into him again and again. The only sound the boy made was a grunting exhale with each forward push of the old man's hips. The horrifying blank look on the boys face cut at something primal in me. I couldn't breathe. Tears leapt to my eyes. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run to the boys aid. And just as I thought that, one of the older boys did break line and run to try to help the boy they'd taken. He got four steps before one of the men in armor ran him through with a sword in the back. A strangled cry escaped my lips as I saw the face; it was the older boy who's been so tender to me. They'd killed him. My cry had brought the attention of the snearing man. He walked briskly to me as I stood there, my hitching breaths threatening to turn into sobs. He put his cold hands on my shoulders and slid them down my chest to my stomach, which jumped at the touch. He then slid his hands over my hipbones and then over my ass, his finger touching the hole hidden there, briefly. My mouth was open slightly and another small cry escaped me before I choked it off when he did that. He said something over his shoulder to one of the other men in armor and all the men laughed. His snear grew some as his hands slid around my hips and onto my cock. It was growing stiff though I willed it not to. It seemed that the more I begged the gods to stop it from rising, the faster it rocketed awake. His finger traced along it's length and my tears couldn't be held back anymore. I'd never had sex, but I knew what it was he was doing. And I was terrified to try to stop him. I was humiliated that he was doing it. He then grabbed my fully aroused cock with his thumb and forefinger and pinched hard, making it bulge with blood and hurting me. I cried out, and before I could finish the sound, I was clouted with a massive hand across my face, sending me to the ground. He seized my arm and hauled me to my feet. When I was standing again, he shoved me to a man in a robe who'd just stepped up. The man grabbed my other arm and hauled me away with him. We moved through a growing crowd, all of whom were gawking at my nakedness. My filth covered skin. I was led just a little ways into a small covered tent that I could see other boys about my age being taken into. As soon as I stepped inside, I nearly passed out. Three tables were set up, and at each, a boy of about my age was laying down. He had a large leather strip in his mouth and was biting down. On either side of him was a man holding his arms and legs. And a third man was standing nearby with a large blade. As I watched, each boy was shaking his head and crying and begging for mercy in my own native language. I watched as one boy, bright red hair and freckles, was looking right at the man with the blade and begging him in muffled voice to stop. The man with the blade must not have understood him or cared, because in one swift motion, he picked up the boys penis with his thumb and forefinger, and then slid the blade down, severing it from the boy with no more difficulty than I'd seen my father removing a leg of bird at home for dinner. The boy screamed out, then went unconscious. I felt queasy and was about to do the same, when they removed the boy from the table he'd been on, stuffing a large wad of what looked to be sheep's wool into the bloody hole, and the man holding me ushered me forward. I was going to be put on the table, next. _____________________________________________ End chapter one More to come! *Questions and comments are always welcome!