Date: Sun, 30 Apr 2017 16:39:15 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: The Heathens 16

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 pulled me to him in a brutal hug and whispered, "Today you have more
than earned the right to call me whatever you will, my Dasqas, my jewel."
Then something happened that simply shook my entire world, from foundation
to firmament. Harcos began to cry silently into my hair as he clutched me
to him. I longed to comfort him, my Aldus, my salvation. But there was
nothing I could do. I seized his arms in my small hands and wrenched them
tighter, willing every pore of my skin to exude healing and love. I started
the deepest of my Soothings, and cried as my Aldus, my Harcos, my Master,
my universe slowly drifted into dreamless sleep.

*****

The Heathens 16: The Boy and the Ox

By Bear Pup

Note on names: Folks have commented that people keep changing
names. Yep. In the time in which this story is set, people frequently
adopted nicknames or descriptive names at various points throughout their
lives. For the lowest, the servants and slaves, names were changed by
masters at a whim. Even in the top levels of the aristocracy, family names
were not usually used outside politics, and even then, the names
changed. If you ask someone to name ten Roman Emperors, you are unlikely to
find more than two who ruled under a birth name.

*****

When I woke, it was again to find Harcos awake, but this time he was lying,
starting at me, face blank, cheeks streaked with tears. I made a move
toward his crotch and he pulled my face up. "Do you see my weakness, now,
my own shame?"

My voice was small but firm. "No. I see my Aldus, my salvation, and a man
who cares so deeply that he mourns even the need to kill the vermin who
come to do him harm. I see no shame, only a goodness beneath a barbarian
mask, and strength within to match and surpass the strength he shows the
world. That is was I see, my Aldus."

He pulled in into him. "My Dasqas, my jewel, is wise and kind and good
beyond his years. You are truly a gift of many gods." He held me tightly
and rocked me a bit, until I started to squirm.

I squeaked, "What I will see soon is a very wet Aldus is he does not loosen
his grip, especially around the bladder area." With a huge guffaw, he let
me go and ruffled my hair. I was on his cock in an instant, taking his piss
but lingering, slowly and carefully, over his raging wood as I teased him
toward passion.

I smiled around his dick as he started to moan and hunch desperately,
wanting completion. But I learned well the morning before, and brought my
master to the very edge of paradise three times. His hands were gripped
upon my shoulder tightly enough to bruise and I loved it. I could tell he
was about to lose his mind when I finally brought him to bellowing
eruption. Before disaster struck, I was out of the tent and fountaining my
piss over the landscape.

Harcos was in a camp-shirt when I returned and I donned my own before
kindling the fire and putting the water on to boil. Apparently, the bellow
of pleasure I'd ripped from Harcos had effected others as well. A series of
long, loud grunts echoed from Pameten's tent, first in his deep and
penetrating voice, then in the slightly-higher one of Zajak. That high,
ecstatic keening and low, passionate growls from the third tent added to
the lovely symphony of the morning.

When they emerged and we gathered around the fire, I realised I had never
seen six happier people together at once. The water still had some time to
boil. Zajak broke the silence with a serious note in his voice.

"New-friend-Pyrkagia, why do you hide who you are?"

Five pairs of wide eyes went to him. The voice of the tall, dark man
answered. "That is a strange question, young one. Why would anyone think--"

Zajak shocked me motionless as he actually cut across the warrior's
words. "I am a slow person, and not bright like the five of you. But with
that comes another thing. Since I am not smart, I am hard to fool." He
turned back to Pyrkagia, "You are a man of many, many summers. And much
power, and much intelligence. Why pretend to be a timid boy?"

Well, a light breeze could have knocked me over. I looked and saw that
Harcos and Pameten were equally stunned, and the tall warrior was upset and
worried. Pyrkagia never lost his smile and simply tilted his head. Pam
actually yelped and jumped back when a gravelly bass voice, deeper than any
of the warriors' present, came from the small boy.

"Well done. How?"

"Your shout yesterday before you cast your spell. No one else who knew the
warrior's tongue was behind us, yet that was the language I heard. It is
possible that a boy with the summers you pretend might have the cock and
balls of a pony, but not that voice."

Pyrkagia turned to shaking and terrified Stelio, "We spoke of this, my
son. You trust these fellow warriors as much as I do, and these lads have
wisdom." He turned to the rest of us with that rumbling voice, still
shocking to see coming from that tiny frame. The water had come to boil,
completely forgotten.

"He is right. I have at thirty-two summers. The Romans came to our island
six years ago and we, unwisely, fought to the man. As expected, the Romans,
defied and bloodied, offered no quarter. When our leaders fled, so did
we. I have always been small, even amongst my own, and never had the thick
fur of barba... pardon me, of great warriors like your esteemed selves. It
was a matter of minutes to remove all trace of the sparse hair below my
chin. I put a boy's breechclout on and a barefoot child stepped into the
street where a man had been.

"A young and foolish warrior," he smiled indulgently at the tall man and
put his hand on the bony knee, "had rushed ahead of the main force to
pillage the choicer morsels. As I emerged, he threw me over his shoulder,
claiming me, and ransacked my house. I meekly helped him find and secure
the best of my possessions, even carrying his booty, throughout playing the
shy, terrified and not terribly bright boy." A long slow smile came to him
and Stelio spoke.

"He was so strong for a young boy, but I thought nothing of it. I was
barely a man myself, in my sixteenth summer and just joined to the
Legion. He was, as you can still see, beautiful beyond words. I was
punished for my rash charge, but allowed to keep half my plunder while
other warriors killed the men and had their way with the others. Part of
what I was allowed to keep was the tiny, useless boy.

"As I was young and new, I was bunked in one of the large tents with five
others, each of whom had claimed his spoils. I was far too embarrassed of
my not-so-masculine body. That and my utter inexperience in any form a sex
prevented me from joining in that night as four of the other five tested
their new slaves." The tall warrior blushed and dropped his eye for a
moment and Pyrkagia took over.

"There was a stir amongst the new servant-slaves when a fastboat came the
next morning with orders that all but a single Century return at once to
the mainland. My new master was one that was to stay. His Centurion was a
surprisingly kind man, and his Optio was efficient and effective. He soon
billeted all of the warriors in local homes left empty by the fighting and
subsequent retribution.

"In a truly hysterical jest from the gods, he assigned my warrior and one
of his mates to my very own house! I slept on my own pillows the very night
after I went from man to boy and from citizen to slave, and served my
master and his compatriot meals from my own larder. When the door closed
that evening, my great and powerful boy-warrior was shaking so badly I
thought he'd die."

"Well, of course I was! I was newly a man and from a family that forbade
the sexual play my peers explored. My new slave, still not having said a
word to me, pulled me to the cushions and I stood as he undressed me. Every
touch was sensual. Some part of him would caress my cock or ass or nipples
'accidentally' with each movement. When he reached my loincloth, I
panicked."

"He did, too. He was trying to push my hands away. What he didn't know,
couldn't know, was that I was a lifelong lover of men." Harcos turned to
Pameten with wide eyes. Such an admission was unheard-of in the Roman
world, much less the Legions! The look did not go unnoticed. "In the world
of my island home, this was neither uncommon nor cause for shame. Since we
trust you with our great secret, there is no reason to hide that as
well. When I finally divested my warrior of his last protection, I gasped
in wonder."

"Well, wonder he says now. I thought it was appalled horror. I was so
ashamed at my rampant and desperate condition I wanted to die! And with a
single lunge, my sexless world was shattered. This tiny, diminutive boy
literally knocked my knees from under me and was on my manhood like a
starved beast as I lay on the cushions, stunned. At first, by all the gods,
I thought he was about to take revenge on all Romans by chewing off parts
that I have always been quite fond of!"

"Oh, I chewed. My child-man of a Roman warrior had a dick that was
perfectly formed, like a Narcissus or an Adonis..."

"What he means is tiny." This got a huge laugh from the two other
warriors. Self-depreciation sells as well as braggadocio for fighting men.

"No, what I mean is the perfect size to suckle on for hours, which I
preceded to do. I had never been so aroused as by his smell, though. I was
coating the inside of my breechclout with slick. And with every lick of my
tongue, his voice went up in pitch. Higher and higher, each moan was longer
and longer until it was a steady keen and he blew like nothing I'd ever
felt or tasted."

"I lost my mind, completely and utterly. What he was doing to me was beyond
my imagining. I had heard of such acts, but only in whispers. And this tiny
little boy knew so much, had such skills, that I wanted to die of
shame. And then he really started."

A sly smile invaded that amazingly-low voice, "I had been terrified the day
before, certain of death, then certain of horrible slavery at the hands of
our unstoppable enemy. But in that moment, I was smitten. Let us say that I
opened his eyes so wide that night, that he had trouble opening them at all
the next morning."

Pameten couldn't resist the opening, "Just his eyes, honoured Pyrkagia?"
Harcos roared and Zajak and I just stared, but Pyrkagia smiled.

"That is a tale, or a tail, for another time, my new friends.

"And by the morning, he knew that I was not what I seemed. I could not
disguise my excitement throughout that long and wondrous night, and my own
moans were certainly not those of a small-stoned boy. We spoke through the
night... well, in between." Everyone was smiling now.

"And over the next week, I hid in the rooms he was assigned, as did
virtually all the new slaves and servants. My Stelio got a lot of ribbing
from his mate over how loud he'd made the little boy squeal and how much
fun he must have been having from the low grunts and groans. I soothed him
in, well, several ways. And we discussed my problem, and my skills."

"You're a sorcerer." This was Zajak, and Pyrkagia rolled his head.

"I guess that depends. I use the knowledge of my ancestors to create
certain powders that have some... interesting effects, like what you saw
yesterday. But do I invoke magic, gods, demons, unknowable forces? No. Just
ingredients. It is a craft, not an art."

I spoke for the first time. "And can you teach this craft?" Pyrkagia turned
his gaze on me and for the first time I felt the intelligence behind the
beauty.

"You ask the wrong question, new-friend-Kucuk. You ask 'can' when you mean
'will'. Yes, I can. No, I will not. My craft dies with me.

"But I had fallen for my captor, and knew the fate of young men in the
armies of Rome. We arrange this ruse, me a tiny boy who never reached
manhood, him an invincible warrior who doted on his slave. We could protect
each other in ways no one could possibly imagine. And it worked. It worked
until... until you, young man. So what happens now?"

Harcos' rumbling voice rolled out, "We welcome this savage warrior and his
diminutive, mute and beautiful child-slave into our cohort."

"Like that? Why?" This was from a shocked Stelio.

Pam answered, "Because you are both brave and fought with honour and
compassion. If you are agreeable, Harcos and I will settle with the
Optiones of both our Century and yours. There will be no trouble." He said
this which such confidence that everyone but Harcos was shocked.

"We are more than agreeable. We lost many our close friends over the last
five encounters and would welcome a new Century within the Legion. On a
condition, one that involves you, friend Pameten."

Pam nodded gravely as Pyrkagia continued. "I have watched your 'hare' face
down your enemies without taking a single step away. I watched him closely
as I spun." Zajak's eyes went wide and fell to the ground. "He was
terrified, as any real man would be, but he did not waver and prepared to
defend your goods with his life. His has, if you will excuse my
impertinence, outgrown his name."

"It is a condition already granted." Zajak spun his head so fast he kinked
it and winced in pain. Pam laughed and put his hand on the young man's
head. "You are Zajak no more. I will give you a name that pleases you, but
it would please me if you like the one I offer to you now. I would like to
call you my Volot. Would you like to be Volot?"

Zajak rolled the sound in his mouth and smiled, shyly, nodding and bending
to kiss Pam's hand. He looked up with his wide eyes and asked, "Is it a
word with meaning, or a pleasant sound, my Pameten."

"I was going to tell you in private, but with what we have just heard,
there is no reason for there to a secret. In my mother tongue, Volot is the
massive, male draft animal that, in our shared tongue, would be called the
Ox."

Zajak-now-Volot stared in shocked silence and I erupted with mirth,
laughing so hard and rolling about in the dust that I am not surprised that
Harcos worried I'd been taking in a fit. He scooped me into his arm like a
feather until I could speak. "Oh, my friend!" I giggled again, speaking our
local language. "Oh, my Okor, my bull-ox, you-you-you have re-earned your
own n-n-n-n-" and I dissolved again.

All were now looking at me as if I had fallen mad. I looked at the puzzled
faces around me. and mastered my voice, Volot utterly speechless
still. "Pameten, my dear and wonderful warrior-friend and compatriot to my
Harcos, you have just given your servant the name in your tongue that in
ours is called Okor. HIS NAME was Okor. You have chosen the name he has
lived under since childhood!" And I lost it again as the insanely-unlikely
coincidence struck and delighted Pam.

Volot came suddenly to life and launched his not-inconsiderable frame into
his unexpecting master, tumbling them to the dust. I could hear him whisper
to Pam, almost a growl, and for the first time ever I think a boy made that
mighty warrior blush. They basically dragged one another into their tent,
not to be seen again that morning, but the noises were... educational.

Pyrkagia and Stelio stared at each other and I watched their silent
language of glances which stayed in a mode that could only be complete
bewilderment. Stelio turned to me, his role as speaker-for-both back in
place.

"We don't understand. Is there a mythical significance? Is he a Mithraist?
But that would make no sense! Mithras SLEW the great bull. And why would
our own story mean that the telling would be appropriate?"

Harcos had obviously gotten some insight. "Describe for me the Bull Ox, my
new brother."

"He is large and very strong, and I can see that to some extent in
Zajak-now-Volot. The Ox is, well, slow and, um, not to be unkind, not very
bright?"

"Go on, friend-Stelio. But you have described any draft animal. What else
comes to mind for a Bull Ox?" Pyrkagia's eyes went wide and he curled into
a silent, adorable little ball of mirth, then shared a look with the tall
warrior, who suddenly gasped and blushed, then began to laugh with us.

We spent the morning in care for armour and weapons, a lesson that Volot
would have to make up later, as with the breakfast he and his master forgot
to eat. It was a calm respite after the horrors of the day before and the
surprises around the breakfast fire. I found myself instantly back in
learning mode, desperately crushed by a frown from Harcos and elated by a
smile. When Pameten and Volot crawled out as we built a warm lunch, they
looked much the worse for wear, and disgustingly happy about it.

A spirited discussion erupted over lunch between the... Volot and I were
stumped on how to differentiate our group now. We decided to treat Stelio
and Pyrkagia as 'one warrior' named Stelio, but still group
Pyrkagia-in-kid-mode as a servant. Anyway, the 'three' warriors were
discussing the plan. Winter Over was apparently a three- to five-day march
with a major ridge between us and it. There were two notable notches where
rivers had cut through that mountainous terrain.

The original plan was to continue east along the relatively-safe Roman
Road, then cut south-westward to Winter Over, using the larger of the two
passes. Pameten was arguing for us to go due south on dubious roads through
the less-travelled pass, then turn due west when we cleared the ridge. The
big issue was the continuing mud in the alluvial plains; heading west along
the mountains guaranteed muddy delta after muddy delta, but the southern
route was rough and unfamiliar.

Not surprisingly, it was the Stelio who asked the critical questions that
brought both other warriors up short: How had the "safe road" worked for us
so far? Which would actually take less time? Both were giant doglegs, but
the due south route was a bit shorter if rougher. With a silent touch from
Pyrkagia, Stelio turned to Volot and I. "Young ones, we seek your
wisdom. You have listened. What are your thoughts?"

Volot was struck dumb by the idea that great warriors would even imagine
that he *had* an opinion, much less solicit one. I looked to Harcos with
much the same expression, but he had a thoughtful look and nodded to me.

"If we continue east, we will encounter either a river or mud-plain
wherever a valley descends from the mountains. Going south, we will travel
between or alongside rivers instead of crossing them. I beg leave to
suggest that my Ma-- Harcos' plan may take much longer due to effects of
the unexpected storm."

Harcos gave no indication of pleasure or displeasure and I blushed
furiously, worried that my failure to agree with my master was
disloyal. Pam looked at Volot and said, "Son, please speak you mind. This
is a council where all must be heard. Your life is at stake as much as
ours."

Eyes wide at speaking to such a group, Volot stuttered, "I-I-I-I, um, I
like the s-s-safety of a r-road, but we were attacked on one anyway, and I
am n-n-n-not sure how many more mud crossings I can survive." Pam
chuckled. Harcos nodded once and I watched Pyrkagia and Stelio share a long
and complicated glance.

"We prefer Pameten's plan to strike south. Harcos?" the tall man said.

"Actually," my master stared at me as if studying my innards, "I agree with
Pameten now as well. South."

Pam spoke, "Then I suggest we rig for rough travel and rest this day."

Harcos' rumbling voice had a smile in it. "Pameten, my dearest friend, you
just want to make a longer meal of a certain side of beef, you lecherous
dog. You would clearly have suggested the same had the decision gone the
other way."

Pameten did not even blush but Volot was bright-red, sputtering and
mortified. "Why, friend Harcos, I am shocked you would suggest such a
thing, though the idea has merit. And, my faithful comrade, be careful with
the term 'lecherous dog' when entire valleys have shaken with the howls of
you and your puppy."

Harcos burst into side-splitting laughter as I joined the
horrified-sputter-party with Volot. As it turned out, the repacking took
much of the daylight anyway as everything had to change from compact to
secure. We ate of fish again that day, smoked over a minty clover and
retired at full-dark.

I'll admit Volot and I had pouted and fumed our way through the evening to
the renewed amusement of the men. Harcos smiled as I pointedly turned away
to undress and sat in a huff. He reached out and turned me by my
shoulder. "My puppy's tail is not wagging tonight."

With every scrap of wounded dignity that I could muster, I pouted at him,
"I do not wish to annoy you with my 'puppyish howling'."

He pulled me into his arms and no amount of effort on my part could make
the least impression. He whispered in my ear, "Warriors like you and I jest
constantly, my Dasqas, and relish even pleasure for tomorrow they may end
forever. You will find this quickly, but for now, I have an idea of a way
to make it up to you." I pulled my face back and took in the lecherous
leer.

I suddenly felt something in my nether parts and made me jump and squeak,
then steeled myself. By the One True God and every Saint, that was the last
sound this heartless barbarian would get from ME this night!

Harcos laid me on the pelts and I swallowed an all-out scream as his mouth
enveloped my balls and began to wash and roll them with his tongue. NO! I
began to silently recite Biblical passages until a second finger joined the
first and slithered deep inside me. I bit the inside of my cheek but a tiny
squeaking squeal snuck through.

Suddenly, those two huge fingers began the snap back and forth, each
downbeat thumping that magical place deep inside. I could not avoid making
little hiccoughs, but swore that would be all. Until my Master's mouth left
my balls and swallowed my manhood, tongue moving with wild abandon
everywhere it could reach. My breath shortened as I realised Harcos had the
very tip of my dick so deep that I could feel his throat contract as he
swallowed around me. And he never slowed, driving me further and further
from sanity.

I cannot describe the sound I made as a scream, or even a howl, but an
explosion of every moan and whimper and groan I'd suppressed for the last
few minutes, rolled into a soul-wrenching climax. I heard my Aldus as if
from a great distance, "Howl for me my precious puppy!" as I continued to
blow. I came to myself and heard a second, massive eruption of noise from
the next tent in a deep and penetrating voice. Apparently, the same
anti-pouting spell was being cast upon Volot.

It was then that I noticed Harcos had returned to suckle my hypersensitive
cock and his fingers had moved from that rapid tattoo to round,
hard-pressing rubs. Round and round and round. I pounded on his back but
might as well have pounded on a hill for all the effect it had. I wonder if
Harcos even felt my weak fists. But he did either feel or hear as my world
flipped from torturous sensitivity to raging need.

This second round took far longer as Harcos teased and nibbled my dick and
played a variety of tunes on my love button. I was still aware as I reached
the second crescendo, and knew exactly what would please my Aldus most. As
my balls pulled up, I took in a huge breath. "Ow, ow, owOO!" a very happy
puppy-wolf howled into the night over and over. I felt Harcos laugh around
my spurting seed. "OW, OW, OWOOOOOOOO!"

<eof>

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