Date: Sun, 2 Apr 2017 16:53:52 -0400 From: Orson Cadell Subject: The Heathens 12 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. ***** It was strange. We both were devoted entirely to the pleasure of the other, driving each other to greater and greater heights. Something within me knew that that simple fold of flesh tween balls and ass was the key to Harcos. The pleasure built, and built and BUILT until it was unendurable. I lost this battle and exploded, screaming around the dick deep in my throat, which was the final trigger for the eruption of Harcos. The prolonged ecstasy had us both thrashing and rocking. I was weeping with joy around the shaft that unloaded my master's sacred seed. It was as if... I was home again after a long journey, a terrible experience, and unendurable trial. It was as if I was... whole. ***** The Heathens 12: Learning to UM By Bear Pup M/T; oral The rest of the night was a blur. A sticky, creamy, off-white blur. A blur that tasted better than anything I'd ever experienced. A blur that I will cherish until my dying breath. And then morning dawned. I had never before thought of things like sun and wind and birdsong as inescapably evil, but I prayed to the One True God for their eternal *and immediate* damnation. As much to hide from light and sound as anything else, I burrowed into Harcos' embrace and found my face in his magnificent and piss-hard crotch, the smell dazzling and delighting me. I opened my mouth and took him in, savouring the iron-and-silk of his manhood. As I had found a few days earlier, I could speed the process by petting his tummy over and over downward toward his root. I was quickly rewarded with a splash, then a gush of amazingly acrid and vile-tasting piss. It was the first time that something coming from my master's cock was anything short of fulfilment, but I didn't pull away. I suckled and nursed until he was done. With a grumbling groan, Harcos stirred and pushed me away, cursing in a half-dozen tongues, liberally sprinkled with two words I recognised instantly, 'Pameten' and 'bastard'. He finally grabbed me by the nape of my neck and pulled me close to his face to look at me. His dark, sensitive eyes were like boiled beets, the skin around was dark, puffy and bewildered. He squinted at me, finally grunted in recognition, set me down and patted my head twice, then stumbled toward the flap of the tent. Every step wrenched a moan of pain from him not unlike my own. He pulled the flap down and howled in pain and I added my own shriek to the sound. Harcos bulled his way forward, staggering, to the flap of Pameten's tent. I could hear the soft snores from within. Harcos grabbed the sun-facing flap in both hands and ripped it off, flooding the tent with light... and abuse at a tone and volume that echoed off the valley walls. "PAMETEN, you {word}ing son of a {word} {word}ed hunk of {word} crap! What the {word}ing {word} {word} did you put in that gods-be-damned {word}ing TEA you BASTARD!" The last word was loud enough that the fabric of the tent quaked and my eyes vibrated in agony. Pameten was on his feet, rampant cock pointing straight out, an adze in each hand trying desperately to focus on where the explosion of painful noise was coming from. Zajak made a piteous whine and burrowed into the furs, whimpering in our dialect, "Please, whatever gods still live, kill me and whoever is shouting!" Pam finally realised that words and a person were somehow involved and started to focus on Harcos. He swayed alarmingly but set down the weapons and started trying desperately to stop the unending flow of abuse. I decided to shut out everything except one thought at a time: First, piss and puke (a really vile and messy combination -- some deep part of my brain asked... 'green? My piss is green?'). Next fire; then cookpot; then water; then puke again; then grain; then stare trying to recall where the grain goes. BOWL! Bowls; then stare at water waiting for... bubbles? Something. Eventually, Harcos dropped to the log next to me and I squeaked as the jolt shook my bones in the most unpleasant ways. He helped me stare at the water for a while, then stumbled off into the bushes. Retching noises came from there and from behind the other tent. Zajak was still mumbling prayers for death -- his own, shouting people, puking people, birds, daylight... Harcos came back and handed me my camp-shirt, already clad in his own, and sat. The water was now hot enough and I made a bowl for both Harcos and myself. Harcos slowly recalled the whole eating process and began to grudgingly consume the gruel. I finished my own and made another. I crawled into the other tent and muttered my soothings until Zajak exposed one blood-shot eye. I told him that he had to eat or it would be worse. His one eye popped wide as the thought of 'worse' and he tugged the bowl under the furs and started to eat in the blessed darkness. Pameten came round his tent and moved a hand toward a bowl and I snarled as Harcos growled, "Touch that and die. Eat whatever crap you put in the tea, you BASTARD!" The last word again blasted at an incredible volume that put me on my ass as pain blossomed from my ears. It sent Pam scurrying for his own tent, from which came a pitiful moan as Zajak realised that furs blocked light but not sound. A horrible day proceeded to happen. I looked to the sky and realised that there were clouds, and literally begged God and all the Saints to not allow thunder. Anything they wanted, really, just no thunder. That was honestly the only thing that went right. Zajak finally was ousted from the tent by his own desperate dash to the bushes, a spot from which he emerged for at most and hour at a time before his eyes crossed and he darted back like his namesake hare. Anytime Pameten came within Harcos' field of vision, my master growled like a furious dog, and it was clear that Pameten was hurting something fierce. Midday was nothing short of a penance. The wind died to nothing and the still mountain vale exploded in heat and midges. For reasons that can only be called divine retribution, the little monsters seemed possessed by a need to be around Pameten. Harcos and I got enough to grumble, but Pam was tormented until, at last, the wind came up and the midges dispersed. By dinner, Harcos' eyes were merely red-rimmed and I was feeling as if I might survive and, more importantly, that survival might be a good idea. I cut some of the cooked haunch that we'd gotten in the camp by the river. I wrapped it and root veggies in broad leaves then a flour dough to make something we'd called kabáts. They cooked slowly on a hot rock, turned occasionally until they were crusty and started to emit puffs of steam when moved. In a small pot, I used some shreds of the haunch and a bit of herbs and flour to make a sauce Pameten was openly drooling over the meal and even Zajak seemed vaguely interested in food for the first time since morning. Pam dug deep into his cart and emerged with a stone-like jug. He poured some into a wood cup and handed it to Harcos who sniffed it dubiously and then drank deeply. He held it out for a refill and grunted to me, "Pameten can eat... for now." I served up the kabáts with sauce and Pameten poured out generous glasses of a brown, foamy sludge I'd learn to call beer in about 20 languages over the years. It took the edge off and the kabáts filled us. Harcos finally growled. "Pam, what was in that tea? And don't lie to me if you ever want to enjoy sex again." "Er, well, you see. It really was supposed to be Blue Lotus and it obviously had some because, you know, it felt nice. Something must have been, er, bad though. We shouldn't have gotten that sick, you know that." "I will find a way to punish you for the rotten Blue Lotus another day, Pameten. What ELSE did you put in my mug?" "Well, ah," Pameten was openly nervous and sweating now, clearly keeping an eye for all quick escape routes. "I knew how mad you were at this darling little..." a loud and sustained growl erupted from my master and Pam hurried on, stumbling over his words "...your new servant and he was so sad and moping and you were so stressed and I, well, I added a little, well, don't yell, okay? A little Orpin Rose?" "You, my friend, are the diseased offspring of a {word}ing muskrat and a {word}ed hog. My head hurts too much to kill you now, but I will extract serious vengeance at a later date." Harcos was grinning, though, as he said this and Pameten relaxed, visible relieved that Harcos had not been more upset. Zajak turned to me in confusion and I shrugged. "And you, my little pu-- boy, did you see Pameten try to poison me?" My voice squeaked, "N-no, Harcos. I saw him add what looked like Aaron's Rod, but y-you said you t-t-trusted him so I s-said nothing?" Harcos' voice had an odd purr to it (with a barb in there as well) as he asked, "And what, little p-- boy do you know of, what did you call it? Aaron's Rod?" "Ah, uh, it relaxes and is, uh, used when people are worried and un-under stress?" Pameten laughed and I noticed that Zajak blushed hard. Harcos noticed as well. "Zajak!" my friend jumped and stared at my master with wide eyes. "You seem to know something of this Aaron's Rod?" "The, um, the men of my v-village use it to get ready to, um, to, um, um..." "Yesssss. They use it to get ready to 'UM' as you so clearly say. And my dear and soon-to-be-departed friend Pameten, is there a *reason* you felt that I needed to get ready to 'UM'?" Pam could not keep from cackling. "Yes, my dearest friend -- who will soon kill me and I will lay down my arms and let you -- I very much felt you needed to 'UM' and 'UM' quite a lot. And from what I heard over my own 'UMming', you 'UMed' quite satisfactorily for much of the night." I finally realised what he was saying and stared at him in abject horror. Every possible emotion flooded me. Mortification that they'd heard me, well, doing that. Delight that it had worked. Shame and disappointment that it had taken a secret herb to make Harcos want me again. Fear that without it he would go back to spurning me. The last was the one that stuck, and I think Harcos noticed. He leaned forward and brushed my ear with his breath. "No, my little puppy. It was not the herb, thought I admit that helped. I am more fond of you than it is healthy for me to be. It is why it scares me so, and why I am still so mad about... what you did... that I could scream. But, no, little one, the Orpin Rose just let me see what I needed anyway." 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'." Sorry this one is so short. The next one won't be. ***** 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... Canvas Hell: 19 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 11 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 12 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Off the Magic Carpet: 5 chapters .../military/off-the-magic-carpet/ Lake Desolation: 4 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/ Recently Finished: Karl & Greg: 22 chapters .../incest/karl-and-greg/