Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2012 04:46:59 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Assassin's Apprentice Chapter 8 -- Gay Science Fiction

This story is protected under international and Pan-American copyright
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to do so.

      Author information:
      Website: http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/books.html
      Email: kavrik@hotmail.com
      Art from my stories: http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/my-artwork.html
      Forum discussion thread: http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/discussion-board-for.html

If you have the time, I would like you to check out the forums I installed
on my website and discuss this story, offer critique, or just tell me what
you think of Chapter 8.

I will be giving away a $50 Amazon gift card for help with my book tour
starting December 17th for "Oculus." Details will be on my blog starting
Friday 12/14/2012.

"The Assassin's Apprentice" is told in first person present tense and has
been heavily edited.

                                    *****

                               Chapter Eight

      The third kick I learn is called a flying double kick.

      To initiate the maneuver, I must be moving.

      I leap into the air and strike with my legs to either side, kicking
twice before landing.  I practice this in the morning when it isn't as hot.
Then Constantine shifts me to sweeps, circle kicks, and back kicks. I
finish my day doing a variation of all of these.

      In time, I develop my own particular style.  Constantine calls me "a
perfect kick boxer." But all of this training comes at a steep price.  I
don't leave Constantine's dojo for a month. At that time a new friar
calling himself Abbath is now ministering to my guildies; I beg my master
to be allowed to attend services once a week.

      Talen and Ambrell sit on either side of me at church. But I'm not
allowed to take my mask off, and no one questions the fact that I wear it.
Constantine does provide me with fine "church" clothes to wear and new
suede shoes lined with rabbit's fur. Talen doesn't say anything about the
mask, but I can tell it concerns him. And I've no idea what's going on in
the real world except what I learn at church.

      I've no idea who is dating whom or what anyone is saying about me.

      It's like I'm living my life inside a bottle.

      Constantine makes sure that all of my "human" needs are met. I get
plenty of water, milk, and meat. He keeps my hair cut to a decent length
and instructs me to shave with a straight razor, and I exercise seventeen
hours a day...much of that sweating buckets while wearing only the priapus
and the thick-soled boots he bought me.

      One day I try to skip services early with Talen and Ambrell just so I
can catch some chit chat. I meet him, Sly, Elliot, Misha, and Gage in the
hall, but the other kids treat me like I'm a leper or something. I wonder
if they blame me for Whistler's death, or maybe they blame me for the fate
of the last friar.

      I ask Talen, "What the hell is going on?" since they don't speak to
me, but just stare with sad looks. But before he can answer, Swift appears
and cuts him off.

      I know Constantine has said something to Swift. I just wish I knew
what it was. It's almost like everyone's afraid of me. Or maybe they're
afraid of what Constantine might do to them if I'm even a minute late.

      So I say goodbye to Talen, and I leave feeling like I'm in prison
again.  Only in this prison, the jailor never strikes me. He never lays a
hand on me, in fact, and I can only assume it's because I make him happy
with my progress.

      In the end, I guess things could be worse. And I can't help but think
that maybe Tethyr has a plan for me. I pray to him every single night using
the old friar's holy symbol which I keep wrapped in a silk cloth looking as
shiny and new as the day Tethyr blessed it.

      Constantine does occasionally go beyond just the physical training.

      One night a week, we spend several hours playing chess.  He calls it
a mental exercise to keep my mind sharp and calculating. But it's also fun,
and it's when he lets me take a drink with him or share a smoke or two from
his pipe. Sometimes he tells me stories, and those are the best because
he's been so many places, and I wonder when it'll be my turn to see the
world.

      So that's my life for a whole year.

      By next summer, I'm so strong I can shatter several hard blocks of
wood with one blow.  I can kick out the feet of my opponent oftentimes
faster than they can draw a sword.  Honestly, I think if I end up against a
true master in martial arts, I'd be in some trouble.  But after a year of
training, I'm really good.

      Each and every day I push myself to stretch farther than I ever could
the day before.  Now, I can arch backward and touch my head to the backs of
my knees and my palms to the backs of my heels.  But despite my leaping
exercises, I'm personally disappointed with my vertical leap.  So
Constantine teaches me circus tumbling using techniques he learned in his
youth.  Because of arthritis, he can no longer tumble as well as he used
to.

      I of course, don't have this issue. In three months, I reach the
first of my personal goals by being able to increase my vertical leap by
three feet.

      One afternoon, I leap so high that I catch onto the awning above the
sand circles in the center of the training ground.  Constantine looks
pleased and smiles at me.  I pull myself onto the ceramic-tiled roof of the
guild house without much effort.  And the view is marvelous!

      It's my first time up there, and my body trembles so much that I
almost lose my footing and fall to my death.  Here I am, a creature
overcoming every physical limitation.  I've learned to fly in my own way.
I've learned to soar like a dream, like a vision, and the power of my
splendid body is like an incomprehensible thing--rarely understood by
me--but merely recognized as being beautiful and lovely.

      I'm glad I'm not afraid of heights.

      In months to follow, the master adds a few more martial arts
maneuvers to my agenda.  The first of these harkens from the school of the
"Twitching Mongoose". Called the "claw of the eagles" it's a way of
punching that develops callouses on my bony, vein-riddled hands.
Constantine is very careful with this, as he doesn't want my dexterity or
touch sensitivity to be compromised. But he also doesn't want my fist to
crack from breaking a man's ribs.

      To accomplish this, he has me thrust my hands into a bowl of rice
pellets for a few minutes every day. And sometimes he has me punch on a
hard plank of wood for an hour from only an inch away. I bloody my
knuckles, but I develop a thicker skin. And the fine bones in my hands grow
much stronger from repeated micro-fractures that my body must heal. The
pain makes for many sleepless nights.

      That which does not kill you makes you stronger.

      The seasons change once more to winter and then to spring.

      One morning after breakfast, Constantine tells me I'm ready to learn
the art of vital areas.  He has within a special rosewood box several
anatomy charts given to him by the Emperor of Shaitan.  Constantine
received these as part of a bargain between the two of them, and they
contain within their folded sheets all the knowledge that the doctors of
Shaitan have ever assembled about the human nervous system.

      I'm fascinated.

      These drawings reproduced on vellum sheets for my master are the most
detailed scrawlings I've ever seen.  Made with squid ink, they're somewhat
faded with age.  But the master smiles at them for he knows he has in his
possession an ancient trade secret.

      With much pride, he begins to show me how to take advantage of
certain points.

      "I protect my balls," I tell him one night.  "Is that a pressure
point?"

      "Yes, but everyone does that.  Use less obvious ones.  If you hit a
man under the bridge of his nose it'll send shards of bone into his brain.
Death is almost instantaneous."

      "What other ones are there?"

      "There're sensitive points to the leg.  A sharp blow to the muscle in
the thigh will drop a man.  There's also points behind the ears that are
painful. And don't forget the temples on the side of your skull and the one
here...on the neck."

      I learn what I can from him and spend a year outside of my usual
training on studying these points and committing them to my memory.  But of
all the questions that plague me, I wonder secretly if there's a single
all-powerful point on the body which can kill a man with a single blow.

      "It's called the Dim Mak," he says to me one evening when I dare to
ask the question.  He's drinking heavily from a bottle of rice wine, and a
cold rain is dancing along the rooftop outside.  "I've no idea how to do it
but there're some people in the world that know how to use it.  It doesn't
have to kill either.  You can use the Dim Mak to paralyze someone
permanently--to make them a vegetable. I'd like to learn it, but I don't
think I will."

      I don't know that I believe him, but I agree that there are very
sensitive points to a man's body. But one that's all powerful? Somehow,
I'll believe it when I see it.

      In time, Constantine polishes my training by showing me how to
perform simple wrist and elbow locks. Once I've mastered these, he shows me
more complex, advanced maneuvers.

      He cautions, "Holds are not the way of the assassin, because it
brings us too close to our victim. An assassin never wants to be that close
to his prey.  However, it's important to keep in mind the paralyzing power
of a hold, in case you find yourself in one.  That way," he reasons, "you
know how to break out of it.

      "For example, if someone grabs me from behind, the correct maneuver
is to turn my body and punch directly to the groin.  I place one of my feet
between theirs and with both hands, press against their knee cap.  I don't
care how big they are, if done properly, he'll be on the ground in no
time."

      I nod, listening to his words, and then add this to the repertoire of
things I already know about how to defeat my enemy.

      Before I realize it, I've had two birthdays here at the guild
house. I'm also a much different person than that first day; I'm now an
adept killer despite the fact I've never taken a life.  But to my dismay,
I've had no sex for two years unless you count my right hand.

      It's the longest dry spell of my life.

      At night, Constantine teaches me the secret cant, the nonverbal
language of thieves, where words and feelings are conveyed by a simple
movement of the fingers.  In this way, I can carry on two entirely
different conversations in a crowded room.  It takes a terribly long time
to get good at it, but practice makes perfect.

      Master Constantine continues to train me in hand-to-hand.  He tells
me that I'm the best and the brightest student he has ever had and that the
other nightshades, if they knew, would be jealous of him.

      "You, Kian, might very well be a prodigy at the art of talus...the
art of killing. I tremble at what you could possibly become."

      It's so weird hearing him say things like that. It's almost like part
of him fears me, but part of him is in love with his pet project like a
sorcerer laboring to summon a demon.

      And there's still one thing that plagues me; one thing that I want
desperately to know.

      I have a deep-rooted desire for steel.  Cutter, the kind knight who
saved me from the prison by teaching me swordplay, now resides only in
memory. But the feel of his sword in my hand is as real to me in my dreams
as it was three years ago.

      For me to TRULY be an expert at this "art of talus", I need to master
steel. So, one day I ask Constantine.

      I lower my sweating body to the straw mat in his room for a bit of a
respite from the morning's toil.  It's summer again, and the placid sky is
a large, open, sweltering spot above the Bay of Dreams.  I'm gazing out at
the sky above the white sand courtyard and waiting for him to answer my
question.  There's a remarkable amount of clouds, and I think a summer
storm's on its way.  I hope so, because it's unbearably hot, and I'm
already as naked as I'm allowed to be while training.

      I close my eyes for a second, praying for a breeze to cool my wet
skin, when I feel the cold flat weight of steel resting against my hot
flesh. It's unmistakable.

      I turn my head and regard the remarkable weapon he holds.

      "It's a katana," he states pulling the sword away.

      The blade dazzles me. It has a slight bend to it and ends in a handle
that's wrapped in thin cloth strands.  I muse that it's probably silk. Who
would dare to wrap a weapon of such quality in anything other than silk?
The pommel consists of an exquisitely crafted dragon's mouth holding a
pearl in-between its teeth.  I'm slack mouthed the entire time I stare at
it.

      "It was given to me by a weapon's master when I was ABOUT your age,"
he says.  With his left hand he brushes back my blond hair and plucks a
single strand that he drops across the edge.  The blade slices it cleanly.
"How old are you?"

      I think for a moment.  "Nineteen," I say.  I had a birthday about
seven months back, but I kind of glossed over it.  Birthdays don't mean
much to me.  I guess that I should count myself lucky that I even know when
my birthday is.

      He swings the weapon about a few times and then hands it to me.  I
must say that it's the lightest and most well-balanced weapon that I've
ever wielded.

      "It was folded so many times that the metal has over 32,000 layers,
and it's made from the finest steel in the world."

      "It's remarkable," I whisper, still held in thrall by the polish of
the blade.

      "It is.  But I'm going to possess an even finer weapon, Kian.  A
weapon crafted by a god to be wielded in mortal hands.  It has been a
lifelong quest for me, and if you'd like, I'll tell you the story."

      I look at him in amazement.  "A weapon forged by a god?"

      He scratches his chin, wrestling with the stubble of his partial
beard.  "Bloodbane," he says voice distant, "sword of rogues."  He looks at
me and can see that I've no idea what he's talking about. He smiles and
puts his hand on my shoulder. "The world was not always like it is, or for
that matter, as YOU see it.  There's been a war in heaven, and it continues
even now as the old gods dispute unsolved questions and differences of
opinion.  From time to time, man gets involved in these wars and the result
is bloody indeed.  Some of this blood, as I understand it, is as powerful
as it is ancient.  In the third Age, Tethyr himself, having slain a prince
of hell, took up its blood and bound it into a wondrous weapon the likes
the world has never seen.  From millennia to millennia it has at times
resurfaced but only under dreadful conditions of war and upheaval.  It's
been credited for murdering thousands of history's most elite soldiers and
generals, and its thirst for blood is legendary.  It disappeared seven
centuries ago in the battle outside the ancient city of Mal Ruen and has
not been seen since.  But in its blade is contained the breath of a god and
the soul of a great evil."

      I turn and look at the katana.  Admittedly, I'd not been out of
Clothol before, but this story could not possibly be true.  A weapon forged
by a god?  Why would a god need a weapon?  It didn't make sense, because a
god should be able to do anything.

      Constantine senses my disbelief.

      "I don't care if you believe me," he says.  He gestures at the sword.
"You can keep it.  I'll show you how to use it and several others of its
like.  Kian, I'll be leaving in two months' time, and you'll be on your
own.  You'll be ready to make your mark in the world, but I may call upon
you from time to time.  You owe me this much.  I've an important journey to
make.  My first obligation that I pass to you is to take my place at this
year's guild war."

      "What's a guild war?" I ask him.

      Constantine opens a bottle of whiskey and ignores me for a moment.
He takes a long drink and then follows it up with another.  He pauses
waiting, I assume, for his thoughts to coalesce.  He has about him the air
of human ambition, and I shall never forget that look--a dizzying
combination of splendid physique and arrogance.

      "The guild war," he explains, "happens irregularly over the course of
a decade, and it's a way for rival cities to settle accounts and determine
who's top dog.  This year, it's going to happen about the time that I
leave."  He shrugs his shoulder, indicating in that one smooth gesture how
unimportant local politics are for him. "A shipment of jewels is coming in
from the mines of Valis- Dur to the east, and it's heavily guarded.  Its
destination is Ladika which is south of here.  That's Lyran's territory.
However, the stakes are high enough that this guild is getting involved.

      "The Daymaster and Nightmaster both want a handful of our best to go
into Ladika at night and retrieve the jewels. Lyran will be after the same
shipment, and they want me present to kill as many of his bastards as I
can.  They also want me to shiv their guild assassin who's gotten quite a
name for himself because he's killed twenty men." Constantine
scoffs. "Twenty men.  I've killed more than that in an hour breaking out of
a prison. This guild assassin might seem formidable to them, but to you and
me, he's a self-important blundering oaf. You shouldn't have a problem with
him.  But just in case, I'm going to train you on how to use that thing
properly," he says.  "And on how to garrotte someone and of course, on the
use of poisons. Poison is an assassin's best weapon, lad, but it can kill
you too which is why you must be cautious."

      "What kind of poison?"  I ask him.  "Strychnine or cyanide perhaps?"

      He takes another swig from his bottle.  After swallowing he watches
me for a second before he attempts a reply.  "No," he states.  "Those
poisons are for amateurs.  You can bet that they'll be expecting you to use
that. My pupil, however, will use a rare and valuable toxin called caasak.
It's derived from the captured fumes of corobidian, the rarest of all
metals.  If you're lucky enough to have a few scraps of corobidian you can
burn it over an intense flame.  The fumes kill on contact.  There's no
cure; no onset time. It's untraceable. When you distill the fumes into a
liquid, it retains its potency. One drop will kill a man on contact. I've
one vial of the stuff that I'm going to give to you.  But until then, I
want you practicing with lemon juice. You'll be able to tell if you get it
on your clothes or on your hands. With caasak there can't be any
mistakes. Kian, we're entering the phase of your training where you must be
absolutely perfect. Do you understand?"

      I nod.  Inside, however, I felt my courage wither.

      "We'll begin training tomorrow."  He pauses staring at me with
bloodshot eyes.  "How long has it been since you got laid?"

      I blink, surprised at the question.  "It's been years, sir."

      Constantine thinks carefully before speaking again.  "I'm giving you
the rest of the day off.  You have seventeen hours before we start training
with poison. Do you think you could get laid in that time? I don't want you
resorting to a prostitute."

      "I-I don't know."

      "Well, I want you to enjoy yourself. Go and get your friend, Ambrell
and bring her to your room, or...if you want a boy...then get Talen. I
honestly don't care. Find someone--I want you rested and at ease with a
mind ready to focus. I want you to flush all that pent up aggression you
must be feeling out of your system tonight. There can be no mistakes once
we begin studying caasak."

      "Yes sir," I say with a grin.  "I think I'd like to spend the evening
and night with Talen, if he doesn't have anything planned."

      "Make sure he's gone by tomorrow morning. Training begins at
sunrise."

      I walk back to my room, grab my mask, and drape a cloak over my bare
shoulders. On my way out, Constantine intercepts me by putting a hand on my
chest.

      "What're you doing?" The question surprises me.

      "I-I thought we discussed--"

      He shakes his head.  "Not dressed like that. You're all sweaty, Kian,
and smelly. Go and take a bath right now. And brush your teeth."

      I realize he's probably right and oblige him. When I emerge from the
bath with a towel around my waist almost an hour later, he gifts me with
some new clothes that he's tailored for my physique. I see a pair of nice
black leather pants, a pair of shiny black boots lined in soft fur, and a
silk shirt dyed gray. I pick each item up with my fingers, and I realize
suddenly...I love new clothes.  There's something about being the first to
wear an outfit, to break it in, and it delights me to no end.

      I slip into them without question and stand before the mirror in
Constantine's room to make sure I look my best. However, before I can don
the mask to go out into the guild house, Constantine brushes my damp hair
and smooths it over my ears with a wooden comb.

      "A young man must look presentable when he courts someone."

      I can't help but smile. "You make it sound like I'm going to buy him
flowers. Guys don't do that for each other."

      "Why not?" Constantine shrugs.  "I'm going to put a carafe of water
and some fresh fruit in your room for you and your guest. Additionally,
there's going to be a small jar filled with a special kind of oil called
jade nuru. It's very expensive, colorless, odorless, and is used in the
best brothels of the east to smooth the friction of intercourse. Apply it
generously, Kian, for I don't want you or your friend injured if your
activities become amorous."

      "Thank you sir," I say, cognizant that my cheeks are now hot. I check
my nails to make sure they are filed down. I've been fingered before by
someone less courteous and it hurt. I smooth a couple of them with a board
of fine sand paper and blow the grit away with my mouth. Satisfied at last,
I head out for the evening.

      I find my friend playing dice with Ambrell near the kitchen. Talen's
shiny hair is neatly combed, and he's wearing tight brown pants and boots
that rise to his ankle.  He has on a brown cotton shirt, open in front,
revealing a white hairless chest dampened with a little sweat.  As I
approach, I feel eyes following me about the room, watching what I do, yet
no one says a word to me.

      At last, Talen sees me and he looks up with wide eyes; I crouch in
front of him.

      "Kian!" he exclaims.  "Wait...d-did Constantine actually let you
out?"

      "I've earned a few hours. W-would you like to spend some time with me
today?" I can't believe I'm stuttering. I hope Talen doesn't notice my
sweaty palms.

      He looks across the room at Nicki who I notice has got a bit of a
swelling in her belly.  She's obviously pregnant. Is it his? She's no idea
how lucky she is.

      "I was going to spend the afternoon with m-my girlfriend...," he
states, voice trailing off.

      "Oh that's fine," I say, "forget that I asked."

      "Are you sure?" Talen inquires.  He stares at me with those lovely
eyes, and I find it hard to lie to him. But I know I need to.  I need to
start letting him go, or at least, letting go of this idea that somehow he
and I could have sex and live happily ever after.

      "It's not a problem.  I-I probably don't have that much time anyway.
I think I might just see the city or look up Gage or Elliot. I've been
cooped up for a while, and it'll be nice to walk down to the harbor and
toss bread crumbs to the fish." My eyes fall to his crotch, and I see the
outline of his manhood there, restrained by the brown leather...gods would
I love to taste that.

      I glance back at Nicki, but she ignores me and waves at Talen.  I
suppress the jealousy rising inside me. It's not her fault that she gets to
spend time with him, and I don't. I grind my teeth together and rise to
leave, but the unexpected happens. Talen grabs me by the wrist and says,
"Nevermind what I said; I'm coming with you. Kian, I'm sorry...I just don't
have my head on straight."

      "Honest? You really want to come?"

      "Yes. I never get to see you outside church. What are we doing
exactly?"

      I pause for a few seconds.  "Come up and see my room. I'll show you
around Constantine's dojo. And then we can figure out what we want to do
from there.  Maybe we could sit on the roof.  The view's gorgeous up there,
and we can watch the suns set."

      I pinch my eyes closed. Tethyr's teeth that sounded a lot like a
romantic date. I hope Ambrell doesn't see right through me.

      Talen nods with excitement.  "Lead the way."

      I bid goodbye to Ambrell and motion for Talen to follow me.

      When we get to the door that leads up to the dojo, Talen stops to
stare beyond the portal into the stairwell.

      "I've heard so many things about this place," he says.  "So many kids
I knew over the years went up this way never to be heard from again.  It
kind of frightens me."

      "Don't be scared," I tell him.  I hold out my gloved hand for him to
take. "Trust me."  Behind his shoulder, I spot Nicki at the end of the hall
peering around a corner. Her eyes look a mixture of curiosity and anger. I
wonder if she's jealous of me.

      I narrow my eyes to glare at her and think angry thoughts.  Your
boyfriend won't be back until morning, and I'm going to fuck Talen so hard
tonight that you'll smell me on him the next time he takes you to bed. How
do you like them apples?

      I wish I had the courage to say that to her.

      Instead, I close the door before Talen has the opportunity to spot
her.

      "You seem distracted by something," he remarks to me.

      "W-what?" I ask.  "It's nothing. I just...had a thought is all."

      "Care to share?"

      My mind races. "Just...I'm grateful you said you'd make time for me."

      "Well," Talen says. "I-I realized when you asked that...you're my
best friend. No one comes before you." After a moment, he clasps his
fingers around mine, and we ascend together. Talen marvels at the
nightingale staircase and both of us make no noise as we climb into the
gloom.  Talen is so graceful, and his small delicate feet find quick
purchase on the wooden steps.

      "Incredible construction," he states.

      Once at the top, I open the door to the dojo which is lit by the
setting suns.  He gazes in wonderment at where I train. I show him the sand
circles and the practice dummy.  Constantine says nothing to us, but sits
staring and smoking from a pipe from inside the meditation room.
Occasionally, he casts his eyes up toward the blue sky.

      "This is so weird," he whispers.

      "Come on...we can talk in my room."

      Once we get inside, I slide the wooden screen door closed. When I
turn around, I find him inspecting my katana.

      "This weapon is sick," he says.  "Is it yours?"

      I stare at the shape his butt makes in his tight brown trousers and
swallow my spit. "Yes. Do you want anything to drink?" I pour him a cup of
cold water and offer it to him.

      "Thank you," he says, and then sips from it.  Afterward, he grabs an
apple and bites into its tender flesh. The juice runs down his chin.

      "There's wine here too," I say.

      "Are you trying to get me drunk?" His eyes flash mischievously.

      I sit down and fold my arms around my knees.  He joins me on the mat.
He has a marvelously thin waist, delicate sloping neck, and fine bone
structure. I stare at him...at his narrow angular features, beautiful nose,
and long eyelashes.

      "Kian," he says after a moment, "d-did all that hurt?"

      I blink. "Did what hurt?"

      Talen gestures at my mask. "When he disfigured your face. We all
heard about it...how you hide behind that thing because he burned your skin
and cut your nose off.  I cried all night.  You were so...this is going to
sound weird...breathtaking. I'd never seen any boy that made my heart skip
a beat until I saw you. Gods...why am I even saying this? I-I want to kill
him for hurting you.  Gage and Ambrell said they'd help me. Swift will
too...he's mad as hell that Whistler's dead.  Tethyr's teeth," Talen says
with tears dropping from his eyes, "I'm so angry he mutilated you. But I
can see past that. You don't have to wear the mask around me. I just want
to look at you one more time and imagine the boy I used to know."

      "I'm not scarred; I haven't been mutilated," I say without
hesitation.

      Talen stares at me uncomprehending.  "B-but why the mask-"

      I pull it off and smile at him. "See. I've no missing nose and
certainly no burnt skin."

      "By the gods," Talen says, putting his hands on my face, "it's all a
lie. I'm relieved but why the deception?"

      "He doesn't want people to know what I look like." I reach up and
take Talen's fingers in my own and squeeze them lovingly.

      "That makes sense," Talen states. "I don't know why I didn't bother
to ask you."

      "D-did you mean all that stuff...about finding me beautiful?" I ask.

      Talen smiles and his cheeks turn red.  "I've a girlfriend who's
pregnant, but yes. I've been in love with you for years. I know you're
straight and proba-"

      I cut him off by kissing him.  At first it's awkward, but once Talen
realizes what's going on, he drops his water cup and puts his arms around
my neck.  His tongue presses against mine and we make out, my hot breath
rolling over his, almost stifling him.

      "Your breath is so minty," he exhales.

      "Yours isn't bad yourself," I reply, pushing him back onto the mat.

      "I-I've never done this before," Talen says, gasping for breath. "Not
with a boy."

      "I have, but it was always against my will," I say. "This is
different, but I know how it's done, and I can guarantee you'll have a lot
of fun if you just let me be in charge.  I like being in charge, Talen, if
that's all right with you?"

      "It's definitely all right."

      I start unbuttoning his shirt and he unbuttons mine. He lets out a
gasp when he sees my body. "Tethyr's teeth you're ripped." He runs his
fingers over my washboard stomach and down to where my pubic hairs poke
from out of my pants. Then he sucks on my neck, leaving small pink welts on
the skin.

      I continue to kiss him in return. I rub the front of his pants. His
dick is hard as a rock and poking down one leg.  I pull off his boots and
slide him out of them so that he's naked. Talen looks perfect, like a boy
of no older than seventeen, with pale skin and mousy brown hair.

      A few seconds later, he has my dick out in his own hand. I'm so large
it spills past his wrist halfway to the elbow, and he gazes at it lovingly.
Talen wets his fingers with his mouth and rolls the foreskin around gently
with his palm. I push his head down with my fingers and watch him take the
length and girth of it between his small pink lips.  Careful not to choke
him, I slowly fuck his face, and he uses his soft tongue to spread love all
up and down my shaft and to flick my swollen low- hanging balls.
Occasionally, he blows air upon them, sending sensations quivering through
my body.

      "You smell so good," he whispers right before he licks my asshole.
His fingers scrape over my muscles.  "Tethyr's teeth, you have no fat at
all," he says desperately. Then he rakes his nails across my skin as I take
his smaller cock into my mouth.  "You've got the body of a Thularumite
Olympian...so beautiful."

      I reach for the jar containing the jade nuru and spill a generous
portion into my hand.  Carefully, I massage it around the creamy ring of
satin flesh around Talen's virgin hole. I slip my fingers in and out,
carefully and purposefully relaxing his sphincter muscle.  When I insert my
middle finger, I gesture in a "come hither" motion and stroke his
prostate. It sends him into wild panting.

      A short while later I take Talen's cherry by pressing him into the
mat with my hand and doing him from behind.  I settle the weight of my body
over his back, and I slip the greased up mushroom head between the globes
of his bubble butt.  I apply some of my own spit and wait for him to signal
that he's comfortable with me going deeper. When his sphincter gives way,
he gasps and claws at the floor and I halt for a second to give him time to
adjust.

      "Fuck...," he gasps. "You're huge; it hurts."

      "Relax," I whisper in his ear, and give him a tender nibble. "Push
out a little...like you're going to the bathroom. It'll allow you to open
up."

      He nods and I feel his muscle respond around my cock. The sensation
drives me wild, but slowly I sink further into his gut.

      At first, I move in and out slowly, massaging his muscular globes and
spreading them apart with my fingers. Each time I thrust a little deeper,
my goal being to be completely inside of him before I cum. After a while,
he gets used to it, and I quicken my tempo.

      I breed my best friend for hours, and we both cum multiple times.

      Sweat pouring from my body, I try to compliment him. I try to say
"your ass feels so good, buddy, it's like velvet on my skin." But I can't.
All that I manage to say is "Nnnnnngggghhhuhhh!"  When I blow my nut for
the final time that night, it coats the inside of him just as I intend.
Sensation after sensation cascades through my limbs, and I curl my toes in
pleasure.  I make sure to let him know how much I love him for allowing me
to do this. I kiss him on the shoulders, on the back of the neck, and on
his lips.  I make sure that I'm gentle because at this point, his body is
much more fragile than my own. And each time I seed him, it flows out of
him with heavy drips.

      I love watching that.

      I pull my dick partway out and look down and see the white semen slip
out of his now gaping hole, and he moans so loudly that I think everyone in
the guild must know what we've been doing.

      When it's over, we part kissing, and I loan him a towel to clean up
between his legs. Even still, when he dons his pants a small stain forms
between his butt cheeks. I say nothing because it's his trophy for the
night; he should be proud of the gift I gave him.

      "I love you," he says to me, and I repeat it back. Then I hold him in
my arms and we fall asleep for a few hours.

      Sometime before morning, Talen leaves me, walking bow-legged, and
with a few white spots dotting his shoes. As the door closes, I get up and
don my priapus and my own boots to ready myself for the day's training.

      As I tighten the last buckle, I wonder what the day has in store for
me.

                                   *****

I'll post Chapter 9 next week. Please stop by my forums and weigh in on the
story thus far or start a topic of discussion on your own.