Date: Thu, 22 Jun 2017 16:55:12 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: The Heathens 23

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.

*****

With a suddenness that (luckily) took my breath away, Harcos once again
swallowed my prick and redouble his efforts, inside and out. I screamed
around the bit as I came again, ages passing as I unloaded every single
seed in my body. I finally fell, limp and lifeless on the bed. I barely
felt my salvation, my Aldus, my Harcos, my beloved barbarian join me,
curling my body into his. The covers cloaked us just as the darkness
claimed me. I realised I was still crying as Harcos kissed my hair and
petted my side and belly. I did not know before that moment that there was
such a thing as tears of utter contentment.

*****

The Heathens 23: The Flax of Nemesis

By Bear Pup

*****

The days turned routine. I trained myself to wake even earlier so that I
had time to savour the morning effusions of my beloved Harcos, my true
Aldus. Each day, I became more proficient at dressing and arming him for
the morning formations. I also got stronger quickly as the evil, nasty,
fucking pack did its cruel work.

The baking became routine as well, the only real hiccough was when I
tripped over a leg as I ran back with my burden of flour. In an instant, a
proctor-guard was on me like a wasp, beating me freely with a leather
flail. I tried to fend off the blows, finally screamed and crying in pain
and terror, which seemed to be his signal to stop. He then gave me a
minutes-long and humiliating tongue-lashing as the other workers scurried
around me. I was hurt, ashamed and mortified, as well as spilling the
flours and disrupting my team.

I got no real sympathy from any but Volot, but no recriminations,
either. The team simply shrugged it off. When we got back to the quarters,
Furge summed it up perfectly, "Don't fall next time." The stripes across my
arms and legs were still livid (as was I) when Harcos and the rest came
back. I spun my tale of woe and Harcos frowned slightly.

"Did you trip?"

"Yes, but--"

"Did you spill the flour?"

"Yes, but--"

"Did he stop hitting you when it was clear you got the message?"

"YES, but--"

"Were you more careful the rest of the day?"

"YES, BUT--"

"Then I'd say it was a good day all round. Help me get into the
shin-guards. We march in a show of force this afternoon." I ripped part of
fingernail off doing one of those fucking buckles, but I made damned sure
never to complain again.

Perhaps one in five afternoons, the As practiced together. On other days,
the men had specific jobs or, more often, they would 'march in a show of
force', the primary purpose of which was the instil fear and respect into
the surround populace (and let the guys get a breath of fresh air). Usually
a Century would march together in battle lines in a direction determined by
the leadership, usually a direction in which sentries had seen stealthy or
organised movement. Several times, the entire Legion formed up and the
ground literally shook with their footfalls and shield-strikes. One a few
rare occasions, the men would be gone overnight which was terrifying and
depressing for all the servants, more-so for the eight of us.

If the As practiced alone, four of us would always work with them while the
other four did chores. On days the men were occupied, we cleaned, darned
and repaired whatever our masters needed most. Furge spent two such
afternoon working to carve a patch to perfectly fit the hole that Handart's
pilum had put in Sziklak's shield. When he had it precisely right and the
edges of the hole filed down as well, he vanished for a couple hours. Two
days later, he vanished for the same span again.

Both times he came back looking oddly pleased with himself; the second time
he also had his master's shield. The finish was pristine and unblemished,
as if the shield was newly-made. All of the new arrivals, even Pyrkagia,
were awed. When I asked how this had been accomplished, he smiled
widely. "It pays to know who does great finish work, and even more if you
know which ones are not getting their, um, needs satisfied by their own
masters."

When Sziklak returned that evening, he marvelled at the work and vanished
with Furge to their niche. Grubo groused, "The lucky bastard carves a
gods-be-damned plug, then gets plugged twice, and is now getting plugged
again and extremely fucking well to boot. Why couldn't Handart have put a
hole in the Skink's shield, I ask you? That could be me trying not to
moan." He grumped the rest of the day, in fact.

Things changed several weeks later when the Fifth, Stelio and Pykagia's old
Century, returned unhappily after an overnight. Their show of force had
been peppered with arrows from a hillside redoubt and four Legionnaires
were injured. While it wasn't our Century, it boded ill. Any sign of
resistance was met with force; any force met with overwhelming force. The
problem here was that steep terrain made the majority of Roman tactics moot
against an entrenched foe. The following morn, they tried to get the rebels
to exhaust their supply of arrows, but to no avail; the enemy could sense
the bluff and the Century returned.

Two days later, the men returned from formation with news. They, and we,
would rest that afternoon and depart at moonfall. Servants and masters
alike would bear the lightest-possible burdens. The As of Nemesis had been
tasked with taking out the entrenched position so the Second and Fifth
Centuries could march out in two days' time and pacify the area
completely. Harcos cooed me unwillingly to sleep as I was awash with
nerves. We woke at dusk and packed hurriedly carrying as we were told, the
men armed as they had been in practice as an As.

Volot and I were shocked and delighted when we set out. The packs weighed
nothing compared to the ones we'd been carrying for weeks, and the pace was
half what we kept up in the camp. It took us about five hours to reach the
area and find a sheltered place to doze and await the day. Cat and the
Skink vanished like mist and Pam stood guard, darts at the ready.

When the sun lightened the area, but was still behind the ridge, we set
forth in absolutely silence. Cat and the Skink had not returned. We worked
our way cautiously to the mouth of the gorge. All the men froze as a
birdcall echoed fleetly. Harcos signed to me that I was to freeze, stay
silent and move no closer. Pyrkagia and Furge were the only servants to go
with men as they crept forward. The silence was our enemy, then. A tense
hour ensued where every tiny sound made us jump, even the experienced
boys. We almost cried out when everyone quietly returned.

A whispered conversation started, Cat and the Skink explaining the ground
and area, including the movement of sentries and men, often using terms I'd
never heard before. They reported the sentries were young, bored and
distracted easily. The men fell to discussing the entrenchment itself. It
would have to be taken from above. Stelio and Pyrkagia had an
incredibly-long silent conversation after which Stelio told the men that
there would be no fire magic that would help.

At a signal, all of us quietly returned to the place we'd camped. A wide,
light cloth of flax, stained yellow, cream and greyish-brown from long and
unguessable uses, was anchored with rocks over two boulders. It provided a
shade from the heat and, from the road below or even the slopes above, was
utterly indistinguishable from the surrounding landscape. At various times,
one or two of the men would rush off on errands, but it was a long and
tedious day of waiting. We tried to sleep fitfully, but the heat and
stillness were implacable. We ate very well of cold meats as the sun set,
then dozed for perhaps two hours.

The moon was a waxing crescent, the stars bright when we made ready. The
instructions were simple: Be ready to fight for our lives and those of our
masters within an hour. We heard strange and occasionally-violent sounds,
then loud cries of alarm and shouted orders. One incredibly-loud bellow saw
Furge's teeth begin to chatter as his entire body quaked with tension. The
sounds echoed through the landscape weirdly, misleadingly. Ghamad and Lavic
lost themselves in silent prayers and I sent several to the One True God as
well.

Suddenly, we heard a loud, booming laugh and Volot nearly fainted. Pameten,
at least, was returning in high spirits... and alive. He was accompanied by
Sziklak, who was bleeding freely rom a long gash in his arm. Furge ran to
him at a gesture, clutching a bundle like the one I'd inherited from
Strasta. Behind him was Cat. My stomach clenched. Harcos did not follow. I
started to weep before Pam even got to us.

"Kucuk! Harcos' pup!" He bellowed, "Have you been hurt?" I looked up,
utterly bereft and unable to speak.

I felt Grubo grab me from behind and pull me into a meaty, warm hug. He
whispered in my ear, "Do you think the great Pameten would by so jolly if
your master was hurt or dead, my young friend? I guarantee you that the
wound on Sziklak's arm is the only blood that spilt this day... or at least
the only Roman blood."

I turned to Pam who patted my head, "Be still, pup, no mere rebels can take
down your hound." He smiled and me and the others. "While the Stone Giant
gets ministered to by Furge, the rest of you pack everything including the
cloth and follow. We will be sleeping in the comfortable niche the rebels
so politely offered for our use." He chuckled evilly, but we were on our
way in minutes.

I didn't notice much when we arrived in my anxiety about Harcos. I plunged
into his arms and hugged him tight enough he winced. Thinking back on it,
the differences between the way each of us greeted the men we served was
amazing.

Ghamad fell to his knees and bowed his head to Say'f sandals, reciting some
prayer that I doubted was popular with Rome. I'd heard the language before;
they were Jews, the original people of Christ, but not yet brought within
His flock. In an instant, he was washing every piece of exposed skin he
could find while Say'f drank deeply from the water-skin Ghamad had handed
to him.

Billen ran forward with a brush in each hand, primping his master,
Cat. Finally, the lithe and supple warrior grabbed the servant's forearms
and Billen started kissing his master's hands fervently. Pyrkagia held out
his hands and gripped the tall Stelio's arms, gazing into his eyes. Neither
moved but I saw a tear drip slowly. Grubo moved forward and embraced his
master, and both seemed extremely happy; whereas the Skink has his baltea
covering and protecting his jewels, Grubo's soft tunica did nothing to hide
a massive erection.

Lavic simply ran up and began to run his hands everywhere across his
master's body, searching for nicks and scratches the calm man might not
have felt yet. He scowled fiercely when he found a tear in the side of the
tunica, a near miss that transformed Lavic's beauty into a demon of
vengeance at the thought an enemy had the temerity to come that close to
scratching his master.

For me, I found my worry turned to fury. "Were you hurt anywhere, my
Harcos?" My voice shook and Harcos blinked and smiled. "I ask so I know
where not to *bite* you later for leaving me in that, that, that *hole*
with no guess if you were dead or not." Harcos laughed heartily and swung
me into his arms. I was not particularly in the mood for a cuddle, but he
buried his nose in my ear and purred deeply. I shivered as he spoke.

"I promise to make it up to you tonight in a very special way, my darling
Kucuk. If there had been real danger, my Dasqas, my jewel, I would have
told you and given instructions. There was never any doubt, though. Look
around you, puppy."

For the first time, I did just that. The rebels had created a blind that
would have been insanely-expensive in Roman wounded and dead to attack
directly. They had lain timbers against the rock wall where a cleft had
formed. By piling rocks on top, they were immune from bombardment by
anything less that the heavy catapults which would take time to reach this
place. A foot-tall gap in the stone let them fire at will into the gorge
below. They even had a cookfire on one end and a latrine on the other!

They also had a lot of dead bodies. I counted six in the deep gloom under
the beams and perhaps another half-dozen scattered around. I swallowed
frequently the fight down my bile at the sight. They were largely intact,
which helped. They appeared to have been killed close in with small
weapons.

I would hear the whole story over time, but the men had come up the
poorly-guarded ridge silently. A cast stone brought a sentry to his feet,
which he left quickly with one of Pameten's darts pierced through his
chest. Cat's stilettos were there before he could gurgle, much less
scream. The next sentry fell to Handart's pilum, plunging into the middle
of his back and killing him instantly. The third fell to Skink's bow which
Grubo explained in loving detail had sent an arrow literally into the man's
Adam's Apple. He died slowly but without a sound.

A fourth was luckier or at least more awake. Sziklak had tried to drop on
his little sentry post and the rebel must has sensed something. He moved
and actually used his arrow as a dagger before the massive man's mace
obliterated his skull. He'd made enough noise that rebels boiled out of the
protective shield of wood and stone. Say'f's weighted net ensnared four of
them. Those met their deaths at the end of my master's blades; two others
to Pameten's longsword and one to the Spanish Sword of Handart.

Stelio with his strange tridents and Cat with his stilettos gathered behind
the massive Sziklak and his shield as the man bulled from one end-opening
to the other, howling a barbarian cry that shook the small space. Six of
the seven surprised bowmen threw themselves to either side where death
awaited on the tip of a trident or thin dagger. The seventh fled through
the end where the latrine sat and scrambled away, only to find his progress
halted abruptly by Skink's hard-swung shield to the rebel's face. He fell
to his screaming death on the rocks far below.

But at that moment, I did as my master said and simply looked. This sad,
desperate place had seen the deaths of eighteen men, but the cookfire still
burned merrily. I turned to Harcos, my Aldus, my salvation. "You have blood
on your blades," I said shakily but firmly and began to clean them.

When I felt I was under control, I joined the others in the horrid work of
retrieving darts and arrows from the bodies, stripping them then throwing
them into the gorge below. Those ensnared by the net Say'f threw were
particularly gruesome. I had to turn away and stopper my ears as Grubo and
Furge hacked off one dead man's arm as that was the only way to untangle
him from the webbing.

The men built up the fire, scoured the area for unexpected guests and set
warning traps in a wide variety of places. Pameten told us to assume that
there would be fighting just before or after dawn as men came to resupply
and/or relieve the dead rebels. After we'd cleaned each other and eaten
from the rebels' stores, Harcos handed me a pack and took one for himself
as well as the flax-cloth and we set out. It was still at least four hours
until dawn.

We scrambled back the way they'd ascended and I marvelled at the complexity
of the climb. About halfway down, Harcos pointed to one side. There was a
wide ledge there with a fallen boulder on one end. He spread half our
blankets down, then covered them with the flax-cloth. He pulled me to him
and whispered, "I promised to make up for your fear and worry, my
Dasqas. Do you know one thing that is very special about working as an As
away from the Century?" I shook my head, puzzled. "You don't have to be
quiet," a deep chuckle made my insides quiver and I let out a low moan when
I felt his breath again on my ear, "and I have yet to give my puppy my very
best bone."

I was naked so fast I don't even know where the clothes went and I growled
as I found and released all the parts of my master's kit. I had him deep in
my throat even as I struggled to rid him of the last few garments. He just
laughed and let me. He finally spun me so I straddled his massive chest and
I squealed when I felt his rough tongue at my pucker.

I gobbled him hungrily, letting my hands rove and tease his own ass and
taint, but it was terribly hard to concentrate. His dick popped out of my
mouth and I threw my head back in a gasp when he stiffened his tongue and
wormed it inside. I began to shake and jerk so Harcos began to us his brute
strength to push my hips back and forth, dragging my cock through the
sweat-slick fur on his chest. His tongue drove me wild with need. Suddenly
it was too much and I wailed in the glory of my orgasmic release, flooding
my master's pelt with my seed.

He gave me no time to recover, no time even to think. I was still spasming
when I found myself lifted and put on the flax-cloth on my hands and
knees. One huge finger gobbed with beef tallow wormed inside. I chuffed at
the change then moaned. My precious Aldus let me shiver and whimper as my
orgasm finally settled and my ass became less furiously-sensitive. He cooed
in my ear and I could feel the heat of his bulk over me. I looked between
my legs and could see my manhood was already hard again, one of Harcos'
massive thighs between my paler legs.

A second finger joined the first and he found that Holy Place within me. He
didn't tease it this time, just rubbed across it as his fingers worked in
and out of my ass. I tensed and hissed when his third, wide finger broached
me and Harcos froze until he felt my asshole relax a little. With infinite
gentleness, he began to saw in and out until I was panting with need and
whining for more.

He withdrew entirely and I cursed him for doing so, but finally felt a
massive thing back there. One fingertip after another entered me, until the
fourth made me yelp in pain. It felt like a horse had mounted me! Those
fingers began to move and twirl, seducing my ass to open wider and
wider. In minutes, all four, thick, hairy fingers were reaching in far
enough to scrape tantalisingly across that sacred nubbin of flesh.

I whimpered in need when I felt his rough breath and beard at my ear. He
growled, deep with passion, need and force, "Do you know why this
flax-cloth has its rich and varied colours?" I shook my head like a puppy
with wet ears. He had four fingers up my ass he wanted to talk about a
fucking fabric? "Every man to join our As and every boy who serves him has
had a load fucked out of him by a Nemesis Warrior."

He popped all of his fingers out and I felt the spongy head of that mammoth
cock knocking at my back door. "Kucuk, my Dasqas, from this moment to
forever, you are Nemesis." I yelped loudly and bit down as the width of
that knob popped into me, then let a small scream escape when it popped
through the second ring. I was weeping with the pain, but he sat there,
frozen, until my body accepted the intruder. It was, I swear before the One
True God, the last pain I felt that evening.

Harcos slowly, lovingly, skewered me on that massive pole. I moaned so
loudly I heard an echo answer from the rock, the sound of a tormented and
extremely happy soul. Suddenly his massive cock found that place, the seat
of my mind, body and soul. He left him cock pressed hard against it,
neither moving across nor withdrawing.

"O, by every Heathen god, take me, my Aldus. Take me! Take me!" When the
repeated phrase went up a notch in needy desperation, he at last plunged
all the way in, sending powerful bolts to every place one of his hairs
touched me, including my pulled-up balls that ached for release. I hollered
and plunged my hand down to achieve that blessed glory but Harcos grabbed
my hand and pulled it away as I writhed and fought.

"You will not touch yourself this time, my precious puppy. It must not be
done." I wailed at the news and went slowly out of my mind as he gently but
lustily plundered my ass. I wanted it to last a lifetime and I wanted it
over NOW! Slowly, mercilessly, I felt the need in my cock became
unbearable, then the need shifted and I squealed, cock forgotten. My ass
now screamed for more and I begged Harcos in every language I knew and at
least three I invented on the spot.

His relentless sawing pace glitched, and suddenly my barbarian warrior was
literally fucking me senseless. Without any sense of warning, I howled in
exultation and unloaded from my aching balls and weeping cock, spraying all
the way up the flax-cloth well beyond my face. A deeper, answering howl
ripped through the rocks as Harcos exploded deep inside me. I wept in
joyous exhaustion as we both collapsed to press my offering in between the
seed of every Nemesis warrior and servant.

Harcos brought me off two more times and came again himself that night,
never once pulling out of me. He took me on my back and I revelled in
wonder at the way his muscled body worked and the transcendent expression
that my ass could bring to my beloved master's face. Lastly, he laid back
with me above him. I was nearly insensate with bliss -- emotionally,
spiritually and physically -- and let tears of utmost joy flow freely as he
manipulated and used my body to drag him to his second incredible orgasm.

I felt it when his massive manhood escaped my ass and sighed as he settled
in into the crook of his arm against his sweat-drenched body, then dragged
the other blankets over us. Harcos dozed but my exhaustion was the kind
that precluded even the pretence of slumber. I wept more than once from joy
over the next couple of hours, and felt my master's ultimate sacrament leak
from my very tender, very abused ass.

Harcos woke abruptly, frowned and put a hand over my mouth. I had been
fully awake but heard nothing at all.

Harcos took his longsword in his left hand and silently withdrew the
Spanish Sword from its sheath with the other. His leonine form rose like
Leviathan as he signalled me to stay frozen and silent. I heard soft but
violent sounds as Harcos stood, tense as a taut bow. There was one shout of
utter dismay and another of agony before everything fell silent. Harcos
relaxed so fast he nearly fell when an unfamiliar night bird broke into a
short song.

My master pushed his swords to the side and pulled me to him in and intense
and passionate hug. I looked up at him, confused. "They came early, my
Dasqas, earlier than I had expected. All met the fate of their brethren." I
shook my head in bewilderment. "That was no bird, my puppy. That was Skink
telling us that all was well. A different bird would have spoken, unknown
in these hills just like the first, had they needed us. They don't, but we
will clean up and head back nonetheless."

He pulled the flax-cloth up and wiped the sweat, tears, cum, snot and
whatever amalgam was leaking from my ass away, then cleansed himself as
well. He told me to step away and relieve myself, then return to him,
handing me a small stack of broadleaves. When I returned, he cleaned me
again with the cloth. I was shocked, though, when Harcos spread the soiled
but sacred flax-cloth back out and had me help him anchor it with a dozen
heavy rocks along all sides.

"My Aldus! We surely cannot be leaving this?"

He smiled wickedly. "Oh, no, Kucuk my puppy. This cloth will never be left
behind if a member of the As of Nemesis still breathes. But you are not the
only new face to join our sacred band, and with luck we will be in his
place several days to protect the flank of the Centuries that come to tame
the rebels. Several days and," my master chuckled evilly, "nights as well."

<eof>

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 30 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 21 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 23 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Lake Desolation: 15 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/
Shark Reef: 8 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/
Culberhouse Rules: 6 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
Raven's Claw: 4 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/

Special collaboration with Brad Borris: In God's Love (5 installments)
.../incest/in-gods-love/