From: an332657@anon.penet.fi (Ld Guitarist)
Reply-To: an332657@anon.penet.fi
Date: Mon, 18 Sep 1995 21:35:27 UTC
Subject: Ember River 1a (boy/boy, fantasy, muscular boys, cons)

Disclaimer: This story contains descriptions of sexual acts involving minor
boys. If this type of material is illegal in your area, or if you are under
18, please stop reading now and delete this file from your computer. If you
are not interested in stories involving sex with young boys, stop reading
now. Few things are sillier than supposedly sensible adults reading material
they find offensive after they have been warned in advance about its
content, and then flaming the writer.

If, however, you enjoy stories involving boys and sex, and you are legally
allowed to do so, then read on!

"Ember River" is a fantasy that takes place in a world resembling Earth in a
somewhat post-apocalyptic landscape. It involves a group of young,
prepubescent boys who are remarkably muscular and strong (the reasons for
this are explained in the story). The idea for this story was developed by
me (Lead Guitarist) and a friend whose input I wish to acknowledge here but
whose name I will not reveal for obvious reasons. He knows who he is.

This is Chapter 1 of an as-yet-indefinite number of chapters. I hope you
enjoy it! Comments, suggestions, ideas, etc. are always welcome; flames will
be ignored. Let me hear from you! My address is an332657@anon.penet.fi.

        Ember River     by Lead Guitarist
        chapter 1

This is a tale of strength, of the glory of the muscles of boys, and may the
Muse lead me to tell it well. I am Quill, so called because I can write. I
am your servant and I hope my tale pleases you.
	For those of you who are not of our valley, I should explain who we are. We
are the boys of the Ember River. Our valley is the only place known where
the Ember River trifoil herb grows, for the trifoil requires our climate and
the minerals that flow in our river, and this combination exists nowhere
else. The trifoil is to our bodies what our love is to our souls: it is the
source of our strength. Trifoil makes a young boy's muscles respond to
exercise to a far greater degree than they would without trifoil. For some
reason we do not understand, the herb has no effect on anyone who is not a
boy too young to have his groin-hair. But we are boys, we exercise our
bodies, we eat the trifoil, and our muscles acquire size and strength enough
to enable us to defend our valley and ourselves against the ravages of the
enslavers and the other marauders who seek to take from us what is ours and
what we are. 
	That is sufficient for now. I shall now proceed to my task, in the hope
that if anything I write raises questions in you that I have not answered
above, that you will find the answers soon enough in the subsequent text.
	Chain, the chief of all Ember River boys, has charged me with the task of
writing this. This is the story of the heroism and strength of Spark and the
boys he led to the city of Eisen to replenish the Ember River trifoil. Chain
wishes this told because the younger boys need their history, but I think he
will not mind if I include the details which are of interest to me. I was
there with Spark and the others, and I shall wish to tell of our love, and
how when the strength of our muscles proved insufficient, that love we all
shared kept us whole and pulled us through.
	I shall not detain you long with details about me, for I am not the hero of
this story, but I shall tell you this: I am eleven years old, and I pride
myself that I am among the strongest boys my age. I can fight well. My hair
is black, my thong is white, I am ink on the page.
	Spark is my greatlove. He is not much older than I am; he only turned
twelve a month before this story begins. But even by then he had built his
strength beyond that of any boy besides Chain. Please allow me to describe
Spark in detail; I wish to dream of him, of his beautiful muscles, and
besides, he deserves every word I am able to lavish on him.
	As I said, Spark is my greatlove, and nothing gives me greater pride and
honor than this. He stands maybe a half-thumb taller than I do, and wears
his dandelion hair long; I cannot keep from giggling when he pins me to the
ground and shakes his hair in my face. His skin tans even more darkly than
mine does. And his eyes are such a bright, icy blue that his glance is
enough to shock me. Those eyes are the eyes of a born commander: even when
he laughs, which is delightfully often, his brilliant eyes drill the soul to
the core, always seeing more than you wish to show. I am in love with his eyes.
	And I am in love with his body. He was born lean, his hips as slender as
mine, but his young shoulders are wide and square. His chest is somewhat
larger than mine, as well, but his waist is as tight, and even more deeply
etched with muscle than mine. His long, glistening brown legs are hard,
charged with thick, carved muscle, possessing daunting strength. And yet his
legs are still as supple and as flexible as those of boys years younger:
Spark is a boy who seems ageless, keeping the virtues of young boys almost
into his adolescence.
	I used to rise early, in the twilight of the dawn, just so that I could
watch Spark emerge from Chain's tent, naked with his clean thong in his
hand, and go to the river to bathe. I would follow, hoping that he wouldn't
notice, and my knees would weaken when I saw Spark raise his young arms high
and stretch, slowly and with all the indulgence of a young cougar. I would
watch his torso, that living vessel of all that is beautiful in the muscles
of a boy, as he flexed his bulging arms, his hard, proud chest, his
muscle-cabled back, and it seemed to me that even the rising sun flooded our
valley with dawn only to light Spark's body, as if the sun itself deferred
to the glow of the boy's muscles. I saw how the dawn's shadows flowed across
his body, the shadows of muscles in the hollows that separate muscles, how
the shadows led my gaze from his strong shoulders down his back to the cleft
of his perfect shadowed buttocks, and I was smitten with love.
	A few times he saw me watching. "Quill!" he would call happily. "It's a
great morning, isn't it?" And I would stumble over my words trying to answer
him. He would smile in the dawn and the sun would flash from his beautiful
white teeth, and from his brilliant eyes, and glint from the gold in his
hair, and I thought how right is was that this boy was called Spark ... in
those dawns, everything about him seemed about to blaze forth, to catch the
day's fire and to burn bright as the sun. And I was smitten with love.
	If he saw me watching, and greeted me, I would bathe in the river with him.
I am clever with jokes and I would make him laugh, which was easy for he had
such easy humour, and when he laughed I would feel as though I was being
warmed by his spirit. His laughter would bless me.
	But I could never approach Spark. He was to be the next chief - everyone
knew that and had known it for as long as I could remember. And that meant
that he was Chain's lover. And Chain was my chief, the strongest boy of all
of us, and my respect for him made me keep my distance. It is not seemly for
a boy to seek the love of the boy who loves the chief. So I would stay away,
trying to keep the despair in my heart from showing on my face, and I would
try to find solace in my exercise and my writing.
	I also found solace in Sun-Boy. I love Sun-Boy and everybody knows that.
Everybody else loves Sun-Boy, too. And Sun-Boy loves us all, with that
all-encompassing love and gentleness that is unique to him, that makes him
so special. I shall describe Sun-Boy here, for he deserves his space and I
enjoy writing about him.
	Nobody knows where Sun-Boy came from. A group of our boys found him when
they were out watching the east road: they heard a child's cry from behind a
bush and found a boy there who did not appear to have yet seen his first
birthday. He was naked and bore no paint or tatoo or mark of any kind, and
no tracks were found near him, so nobody knows how he came to be there or
who left him. It was as if he was the son of the bush that sheltered him.
That was a little over nine years ago. We don't know Sun-Boy's birthday, so
we pretend that it's the summer solstice. He turned ten by this reckoning
four months ago.
	Sun-Boy has dark skin, a strange but beautiful golden-copper skin, and hair
like nobody else's. His hair is straight, incredibly thick, and long enough
to reach more than halfway down his back. And it is a shining silver-white
color, a color like no other hair I have ever seen. He sweeps it back from
his face, behind his ears, and lets it fall in a thick, full mane down his
back, and somehow it seems to stay there all day, no matter what kind of
play, sport, or other activity Sun-Boy gets into. He has high cheekbones and
a little upturned nose, like the nose of a much younger boy, and a constant,
shining smile that  beams happiness. His eyebrows are the same silver-white
as his hair, and so are his remarkably long lashes, and his eyes are like
the brightest emeralds. He never wears anything but his sun-yellow thong. It
fit him perfectly last summer but it is now too small for his growing
boy-parts, and when he gets a horn on this garment is hard pressed to
contain it. He is so beautiful that even those who have known him all his
life stare in wonder when he appears.
	And yet Sun-Boy is like no other ten-year-old. He is of normal height, but
his strength is extraordinary even among us. He is stronger than all of the
eleven year olds, including me, and most of the twelve year olds, too. He is
nearly as strong as Spark. For such a young boy his muscles are tremendous.
I am a year older than he is, and fully three thumbs taller, but his biceps
are bigger than mine. I admit that for a time this bothered me; I was
jealous of Sun-Boy's muscles.
	I overcame this because Sun-Boy loves me. I shall digress for a while and
tell you how this came about.
	I made friends with Sun-Boy, as I make friends with all the boys, when I
helped him learn to write. He was only eight then, and I was nine, and while
I was enamored of his beauty we never went beyond the kind of boyish hugs
and mock-wrestling all the boys engage in. At the time I do not believe I
understood the depth and wonder of Sun-Boy's soul.
	Four weeks before we ventured on our expedition we had one of our Ember
River wrestling tournaments. We have these tournaments often, so that the
boys can test their own strength against each other and so that Chain and
the other older boys can determine who among us is the strongest. Our
strength, our muscles, are our glory and our pride, and so all of the boys
take the wrestling seriously.
	I was eleven, and so I wrestled the elevens, and had defeated all of them
except Leo, whose strength is, I think, not as great as mine but whose skill
is greater. Leo is a boy who practices his wrestling and fighting skills a
great deal. He managed, after a long match, to make me submit, and I bowed
to him. There is no shame in losing to Leo. I have great respect for his
strength and his skill.
	I was not surprised to learn that Sun-Boy had defeated all of the tens. He
was and is a boy who looks strong enough to wrestle a full-grown bull: his
body is packed with thick, full, rippling muscle so strongly developed for
such a small young boy that even in the Ember River valley jaws drop when he
flexes. I have lived all my life among young boys whose muscles are
developed to an extreme most people have never imagined, and my own muscles
are impressive even among us, but I must admit that even I have never seen
muscles as big, as hard, as powerfully developed on a boy younger than I am
as Sun-Boy's. And I have only very rarely seen muscles more massively
powerful than his even on older boys. But I was not prepared to see how
easily he defeated elevens who had given even me trouble. Boys who were much
bigger than Sun-Boy, who had nearly beaten me, found his strength overwhelming.
	

        Ember River     by Lead Guitarist
        chapter 1 (part b)

It came time for the match between Sun-Boy and myself. I was not worried at
this point. My muscles felt and looked awesome after my previous matches; my
heart pounded blood into them and swelled them to their best size. It was a
warm day and the heat and the exertion of wrestling had given my body a
sheen of sweat, and as I sipped a little water, standing there naked but for
my thong, I felt great. 
	Chain called for us to begin, and I advanced to the center of the ring. I
knew Sun-Boy would be pumped from his matches as well, but I had not yet
seen him. My penis was stiffening just from the thought of him, and my balls
hung low, flushed full of blood, filling my little thong out well. I swung
my arms a bit, loosening my muscles, feeling warm and strong and ready. I
could not wait to meet Sun-Boy in the ring.
	He appeared, and I must admit that immediately my confidence began to fade.
He was shorter than I was, smaller, and his little-boy face wore a beautiful
smile. He stood at the edge of the reed-mat ring and stretched his strapping
young body out, easing his awesome boy-muscles, flexing them. And I was
astonished. He raised his face to the sky, eyes closed, and swept his long,
sweaty, silvery hair back over his ears, and as he did so his biceps seemed
to almost burst from his arms, his lats rippled and swelled, his bulging
boy-pecs flexed and throbbed with the motion of his arms. His abdominal
muscles shone in the sun, rippling their strength all the long way from his
breastbone to the low-slung waistband of his indecently-tiny thong. His
little penis was stiff, straining against the fabric, and I almost fainted
with desire as I watched him open his eyes to look at me, grin, and adjust
his thong for greater comfort. Sun-Boy had such an unbelievably exciting,
erotic young-boy physique that I felt almost as though his beauty, the
vision of his muscularity, blinded me.
	"Ready yourselves!" called Chain. Sun-Boy and I took our places, naked but
for our thongs, in the center of the ring.
	"Go!"
	Sun-Boy charged me immediately, wrapping his strong arms around my waist.
Bracing himself, he lifted me high, turned me over, and slammed me down onto
the mats. His speed had surprised me, but I was not winded.  I suddenly
jackknifed my body, bringing my knees up hard into Sun-Boy's abdomen, and
the force broke his hold. He tried to roll away, but I was too quick and
managed to wrap my legs around his waist. I thought I had him as I began to
squeeze, for several strong boys had already submitted to me today when
clamped in my scissor-hold. I strained against him, my sweaty thighs
bulging, waiting for him to wave for Chain to stop the match. But I had
underestimated him.
	He reached his hands behind himself for leverage and managed to sit up, my
muscular legs still wrapped around him, and with a powerful burst of energy
he got his feet under him. I did not know what he was trying to do, but
whatever it was, I didn't think it would help him.
	I had Sun-Boy gasping for breath, his muscle-charged young physique
shaking. My confidence increased: of course I could beat Sun-Boy - he's only
ten! For all his muscles, he cannot hope to match my strength. I grinned
tightly, watching my own thighs flex, my abdominal muscles ripple with my
breathing. My penis was stiff and throbbing, for exercising my own muscles
always makes me horny, and besides, Sun-Boy, glorying in the incredible
development of his own muscles, was the sexiest little boy I had ever seen.
	Sun-Boy twisted slightly and reached an arm under my clenched, hard
buttocks. His bicep tightened into a thick, steely swell of boymuscle as he
lifted my body slightly, sliding his leg under my body to give him balance.
His breath was coming in short little bursts; I could tell that the strength
of my hold was wearing him down. But he still had great depths of strength left.
	He took the deepest breath he could, his face grimaced and darkening with
blood. He was steeling himself for something, gathering all his incredible
strength. Suddenly he surged up, lifting and twisting, every muscle swollen
to its utmost strength, actually leaping into the air and carrying me with
him. With unbelievable power he flipped me over, slamming my face hard into
the mat, and the force of the blow momentarily caused me to loosen my
scissor hold. In a flash his sweat-slick little muscled body had squirmed
free, and he stood up to catch his breath.
	The boys watching whooped and hollered their approval. "Yeah!" they cried.
"Way to go, Sun-Boy!"
	Sun-Boy smiled and adjusted his thong. I could see that his little penis
was as stiff as it could get. Playfully he flexed his biceps, and those
little-boy muscles just exploded into bulging, jagged knots of swollen sinew.
	I stood up, my penis painfully stiff in my thong as I gazed at Sun-Boy's
eye-popping muscles. I had new respect for his strength now.
	I decided to take the offensive. I leapt at him, seized one of his arms,
and twisted it around behind his back in a hammerlock. I forced it up,
increasing the pain, hoping to make him submit quickly. But I was in for
another surprise, for I had again underestimated his strength.
	I was lifting him almost completely off the mat as I waited for his
submission. But with astonishing power, using only his tricep muscle, he
raised his body up, relieving the pressure. I was supporting his weight on
my hands, and it occurred to me later that I could easily have dropped him,
but I did not. With his young-boy agility he swung his legs high over me and
quickly clamped his thighs around my head. I found myself with my nose
almost buried in his bulging thong, staring along the stiff, cloth-covered
shaft of his penis, along the deeply-cut rippling abdominal muscles, over
the strong, swollen pectorals, into his impish little face. He was grinning
at me as he increased the pressure. His thighs bulged against my neck,
impeding the flow of blood to my head, and I knew that if I could not escape
his scissor hold within a few seconds, that I would black out, and lose the
match.
	I was leaning back slightly to maintain my balance as I supported his
weight. So now I pitched forward, diving to the mat, slamming Sun-Boy's body
face down beneath me. He maintained his hold, but had to catch himself with
his hands to avoid taking the impact on his head. Now he lay stretched
beneath me, my hard penis grinding into his back, between his shoulder
blades. With all the strength I could muster I pushed up against the mat,
forcing him to arch his back, and using my flexibility to the fullest, I
managed to swing my legs around in front of me, so that I could use their
strength to help me raise my head. I began to sit up now, my buttocks on
Sun-Boy's back where my penis had been, and he was finally forced to release
his hold so that his back would not snap.
	I confess that I perhaps wasted a second or two in this position, for I was
entranced by the beauty and flexing muscularity of Sun-Boy's naked buttocks.
I was feeling sexually charged, my penis stimulated by the friction it had
felt against his back, and now the vision of his wonderful boy-ass,
glistening with sweat and vibrant with muscle, brought me almost to orgasm.
My penis jumped a couple of times in my thong, fighting to tear through the
stretched fabric, before I remembered that I was still involved in a contest
of strength with this younger boy - one which he had just come close to winning.
	With a burst of power he bucked me off his back. I sprawled on the mat as
he flung himself on top of me, rolling me onto my back and sitting on my
belly. He seized my hands in his and forced them to the mat beside my head.
This is a very easy hold to escape, normally; you simply raise your legs up
and scissor your opponent's head from behind, but Sun-Boy countered my
attempt at this by lying prone on top of me, his muscled young chest bulging
against my own, and his penis almost grinding into mine through our thongs.
I was so horny I thought my penis was going to explode, and it seemed that
he was, too. He forced my arms out to a spread-eagle position and began
twisting my wrists backwards. Now I knew what he was up to: this was the
hold with which he wanted to make me submit. It was a strange choice, for it
did not involve any great skill; rather, it was purely a contest of strength
between us: the strength of his muscles trying to twist my arms until the
pain was too great, and the strength of my own muscles trying to resist him.
	I strained against his strength. The muscles of my shoulders, lats, chest,
and arms fought his, as the grip of his small hands tightened like bear's
jaws around my wrists. I felt the hardness, the swollen power, of the
muscles of his body as he lay struggling against me, and I felt my own
muscles surge to their utmost power, throbbing with my full strength as I
fought his grip. It seemed to me that we were locked in our struggle for an
hour, our sweat mingling and running between our panting, quivering bodies,
soaking our thongs as they strained to contain our hot, swollen cocks. I
could feel Sun-Boy's hot, quick gasps on my face as he could feel mine; our
lips were perhaps only an inch apart. We stared into each other's eyes as we
fought, and I saw a will there in his eyes that I had never suspected. And I
could not budge him.
	At last I began to tire. I did not want to betray my fatigue to him, so I
redoubled my efforts, gaining perhaps a tiny fraction, but he reached deep
into his reserves of strength and matched me. Then, as my own strength began
to fail, he slowly forced my arms around and made me feel the pain. Struggle
as I might I could not stop him. My strength, the pride of my young life,
was not great enough to defeat the strength of a boy younger than I. I
grimaced, my eyes tightly shut, as I poured my last strength into the fight,
but he continued to overpower me. Finally, at long last, I could stand the
pain no longer.
	"I give!" I gasped. "Chain! I give!"
	Sun-Boy instantly released the pressure, relaxing himself entirely. I
opened my eyes and saw triumph in his, and then, to my great surprise, he
leaned his beautiful face down to mine and kissed my full on the lips. I
felt his tongue, but kept my mouth closed, not letting him in. I was
ashamed, and I had to deal now with my shame.
	He sat up on my belly, caught his breath, and stood. The boys watching were
cheering him as Chain raised his hand in victory. I rolled over, got to my
hands and knees, and struggled to stand myself. And it was a struggle: I was
not until then aware of how much of my strength the match had taken, and how
drained I was. I embraced Sun-Boy to congratulate him on his victory, then I
left the ring.
	I do not know how long I sat on the bank of the river, facing my weakness,
but the sun was low in the west when I finally felt a hand on my shoulder.
It was Sun-Boy. The fiery will had subsided from his eyes, replaced by the
gentle smile I was so familiar with. I gave him a weak smile of my own.
	"How did you do in your next match?" I asked.
	"Spark beat me. He's a lot stronger than I am."
	"Mmm."
	A pause. I was hoping, I think, that he would go away and not rub my nose
in my defeat. But he did not. "Quill?" he asked.
	"What?"
	"May I sit here with you?"
	"Sure, I guess."
	He sat on my right, close enough that our legs almost touched. "I tried to
kiss you."
	"I know." There may have been a taint of venom in my voice, but I do not
think I intended it. I had no ill-will for Sun-Boy. I was angry with myself.
	A minute passed as I gazed at the slow, easy flow of the river. He didn't
say anything. At last I glanced at him, and saw tears on his beautiful face,
and the quivering of silent sobs in his shoulders. "What's the matter?" I
asked in surprise. I do not think I had ever seen Sun-Boy cry before.
	"I love you, Quill," he blurted. 
	I was speechless. He and I had always been friends, at least we had been
since I taught him to read and write, but I had not imagined that our
relationship went beyond that.
	

        Ember River     by Lead Guitarist
        chapter 1 (part c)

I am not good at this sort of thing. I suppose I should have embraced the
boy immediately and told him that I loved him too, but I did not. All I said
was something like: "Ahhh ...."
	"I tried to kiss you," he said again through his tears. "Why didn't you let
me in?"
	How could I tell him that it hurt me to be defeated by him? I felt so petty
all of a sudden, so small and childish and stupid ... "You beat me. I was
mad at myself." Was this the right thing to say? Probably not.
	He sniffed. "I wish I wasn't so strong ..."
	"What?" I almost shouted. "It's wonderful that you're strong! Your muscles
are fantastic! You should never be ashamed of your strength!"
	"But if I was weaker, you would have beaten me and ... and then, would you
have let me in?"
        At last I did the right thing. I forgot my own shame and my anger at
myself, and I reached my arm around Sun-Boy's shoulders and hugged him. It
was a good hug, warm and strong and I really meant it - I was realizing only
then that I loved Sun-Boy as he loved me.
	He knew it. Without a word he crawled into my lap facing me, legs extended
at my sides, buttocks on my thighs and his thong pressing into mine. We
embraced each other and he kissed me again. This time I let him in. Our lips
were locked for a long time as our penises swelled and hardened, and I
caressed him, petted him, feeling all of his incredible muscles flex and
writhe in growing sexual pleasure as we kissed. I longed for him.
	My heart beat faster as I tugged at the waistband of his little thong. He
squirmed around, lifting his hips, letting me strip the thong from his
muscular boy-body, leaving his throbbing red penis naked and free. It was as
long as my index finger and as thick as my thumb, and it was at that moment
the most beautiful thing in the world.
	I leaned back in the grass and lifted Sun-Boy by the hips, reversing his
body and taking his hot little cock in my mouth. He pulled my thong off me
and began sucking my straining penis with the same intensity. This was
ecstasy for me: his penis was happy in my mouth, my hands were all over the
gorgeous, pumped, powerful muscles of his stripling body, and he was sucking
and licking and pleasuring my own cock with an insatiable eagerness. I could
feel the quick beating of his strong heart as his chest lay on my belly and
I could feel the boy-heat of his copper skin sink through me, warming me
with his spirit-love and his body-lust at the same time.
	I gripped his buttocks as I sucked him, kneading and massaging those
beautiful muscles. This seemed to drive Sun-Boy into a sexual frenzy,
moaning and squeaking his boyish pleasure as he devoured my raging penis.
Gradually I worked a hand between his butt-cheeks and found his anus with my
finger. As my fingertip passed over the little boy-pucker he shuddered and
relaxed the sphincter. My finger slipped in all the way. He momentarily
released my penis and gasped "ooohhh ..."; this boy-whisper may have been
the most erotic sound I have ever heard. I stroked his prostate in the same
rhythm as my sucking of his cock, and at last he stiffened, his whole body
shuddering in pure boysex joy, as his orgasm exploded in his body. He was
still to young to squirt semen but I did not mind at all. I simply took in
his heat and the vibrant pleasure of his body, and that was sufficient. My
jealousy and shame vanished as my sexual high grew, and I was healed.
Sun-Boy healed me.
	Even after his orgasm he still sucked me enthusiastically. He inched his
body forward, sliding his skin against mine as he pulled his softening penis
from between my lips. He spread his muscled legs apart, leaving my face
almost buried in his ass. He squirmed in sexual bliss as he sucked me, and
his writhing made the muscles of his buttocks and thighs swell, relax,
tighten and flex in a marvelous muscle-dance an inch from my nose. My hands
groped his buttocks and legs, feeling the steely boy-muscles flowing and
flexing under Sun-Boy's hot, tight skin. His tongue on my penis and his ass
in my face were driving me to a height of sexual desire I do not believe I
had ever reached. I could feel my orgasm boiling in my groin and suddenly
all my muscles contracted and I squirted what must have been a volcano of
boy-cum into Sun-Boy's mouth. He sucked in every drop of it as my hard penis
jerked.
	As soon as my orgasm subsided, Sun-Boy spun around on my belly and kissed
me again, sharing my own hot cum, which he still held in his mouth, with me.
Of course, because I am still such a young boy, I really did not produce
very much, but Sun-Boy shared it and we both lay for a moment, tasting me
and warming each other's muscular, sweating bodies with our heat.
	"I love you, Sun-Boy," I whispered to him. "Muscles and all. And the
stronger you get, the more I love you." I meant it. I didn't even know it
before I said it, but I knew that I meant it.
	He sat up naked on my belly, grinned his dazzling white grin, his lips
graced with my cum and our saliva, and flexed his biceps. The eruption of
the rock-hard, jagged muscles bursting from his arms astonished me; Sun-Boy
was pumped bigger than I had ever seen him. His swollen boy-chest looked so
beautiful with his bulging pecs straining proudly that my penis jumped to
full erection once more. I stroked his body, feeling his muscles, the shape
and contour of his throbbing young physique, and I felt like I was touching
a magic vessel of pure erotic power, a boy who simply exploded with sex.
	"Am I sexy?" he asked with a giggle.
	"You are the sexiest boy in the world!"
	"Sexier than Spark?"
	I have already explained that I loved Spark from afar, but to me he was
like a rainbow, a star I could never reach, a boy whose strength and beauty
almost consumed my world whenever I saw him. And here was Sun-Boy, a
giggling, wriggling, happy mass of hot boymuscle and sheer fun sitting naked
on my naked belly, flexing and once again proudly erect. How could I tell
who was sexier? "Well ..." I hesitated.
	"Spark is sexier than me. It's ok if you say that. I know you have a real
crank for Spark and that's good!" With that he relieved me again. I smiled
and he giggled and I giggled back and he flopped down onto me, kissing hard
and hugging and grinding his stiff cock into mine and driving me to another
height of excitement.
	Without even thinking, I somehow stood up with his sex-crazed musclebody in
my arms and spilled us both into the river. The water was hip-deep on me,
and we both stood up laughing and spluttering and hugged each other again.
He looked so hot, so eye-poppingly sexy as the water ran from his muscles
that I could not stop myself from hugging him, touching him; I was unable to
get our bodies close enough. I felt like I wanted to bring him right into me
or to dissolve myself into him, so that we would share one skin, one
incredibly muscular desperately horny boy-body bursting with the sexual
frenzy of both of us.
	He buried his tongue deep into my mouth as we embraced. He never seemed to
stop his wriggling, that constant grinding of his stiff cock against my
body, and the writhing of his hot, pumped young muscles. I carried him to
deeper water, letting the bouyancy of our bodies take some of the weight as
we swirled ourselves in our river. Gradually he crawled up my torso,
wrapping his legs lightly around my waist as his hands massaged the muscles
of my shoulders and back. I had had sex with many boys, but I had never felt
as high as this. My mind was not working; everything just seemed to swirl
into an almost savage, desperate bliss. My penis ached, so pumped and
throbbing that I thought it would burst from my body as Sun-Boy and I groped
each other's muscles.
	He began to slide his body down, his hot cock rubbing against my stomach,
until I felt his buttocks touch my penis. I shook, gasping with ecstasy as
Sun-Boy expertly positioned his body so that the head of my cock nestled
against his tight little boyhole. Then, with a look of complete spiritual
joy on his face, he opened his sphincter and slipped down onto me, letting
me enter him, his ass now gripping my cock. Slowly, in time with our
breathing, he pumped himself up and down my shaft. Now I felt his muscles,
all of his muscles, as he struggled to bring us both to the blinding fire of
orgasm. My hands were all over him, his back, his flexing chest, his
powerful thighs and buttocks fucking in rhythm, his arms as he groped my own
muscled body; I felt all of his trembling muscles as he felt mine. 
	He pumped faster, his tight treble boybreath louder and quicker as I
abandoned myself to him. It was all I could do to hold onto him: he was such
a passionate, uncontrollable, vibrating mass of rippling boymuscle
supercharged with sex and the incredible strength sex gave him. I gave up
completely, forgetting myself in the musclesex bliss, forgetting balance and
water and everything as we worked our fucking together. Nothing mattered but
our penises, his hot little ass, our throbbing muscles and the sweat
swirling with the riverwater. Another orgasm began to burst within us - I
could feel him tensing and quivering as the fireball built in my own loins -
this was our orgasm, a common, shared sunburst of raw physical pleasure and
the joy of our love. And then we exploded. I saw stars, heard Sun-Boy's
ecstatic cry, felt the grip of all of our muscles swelling and shaking our
bodies and I pumped everything I had into Sun-Boy. I do not know how long it
lasted. Somewhere along the way his blissful sexual cry and moan became soft
laughter, matching my own. Somewhere along the way we settled down, my penis
still buried within his asshole, embracing each other in utter exhaustion
and pure love. Somewhere along the way I found the strength and presence of
mind to bring us back to the riverbank, and we sprawled there gasping,
entwined in each other, spent and grinning at each other and kissing when we
found enough breath to kiss. I had never been so happy.


Ember River Chapter 2 part a            by Lead Guitarist

The brushfire came in midsummer and burned most of the Ember River valley. I
shall not describe the fire or the attempts we made to fight it, for it
would be painful and useless to do so. I shall only say that the fire
consumed our trifoil plantation entirely, and it also killed thirty-one
brave boys who died trying to save others. We buried their charred remains
in the scorched earth of the trifoil plantation in the hopes that when we
get the trifoil growing again, it will give us some of their courage along
with the strength we have always gained from it.
	When we had buried our dead and done what we could to help our wounded,
Chain called us together for a meeting. It was a sunny morning and we met on
the Dawn Crag above the valley, and we could all see the valley stretch out
below us and see the black smoking sear where the fire had come.
	Chain is a good leader, but is a boy of few words. "Our trifoil is gone,"
he said. His voice was well into its change; we all knew that he would be
leaving the valley before the end of the year. "Without our trifoil we have
no strength, and without our strength we cannot fight the enslavers. We all
know this.
	"There is only one place where there is more trifoil. It is in the city of
Eisen, a fortnight's hard trek from here. There was a university there where
trifoil was studied in the golden days before the Collapse, and the
laboratory there still, I believe, has seeds of the trifoil plant. The
university is closed and abandoned, but the seeds should still be there.
Somebody will have to go to Eisen to get them.
	"This will be dangerous. Between here and Eisen there are gangs of
enslavers. In the city of Eisen there are other gangs, gangs of desperate
men and boys who kill from fear and because they love bloodsport. I hate to
send boys I love to Eisen, especially when we need every boy here so much
now, but I have no choice. I have chosen a boy to lead the expedition to
Eisen. You all know him; he will lead when I am gone from this valley. The
leader will be Spark."
	Chain sat down and Spark stood before us. He looked magnificent. The wind
stirred his yellow-gold hair as the sun danced through the strands, his
bright smile flashed, his fiery eyes were dazzling in their pure brilliance.
He wore only his white thong, and the riveting power that seethed in his
young body swelled his muscles to bursting even as he stood relaxed. 
	Sun-Boy was sitting in my lap, leaning back against my chest as we
listened. I was leaning against an old treestump and my arms encircled
Sun-Boy's hard, muscled belly. We both wore our thongs, and my penis was
stiff against Sun-Boy's buttocks as we listened to our leaders. My cock
twitched when Spark stood up, and Sun-Boy noticed. "He looks great, doesn't
he?" he whispered to me.
	"He does. So strong, so beautiful ..." I kissed Sun-Boy on the cheek and
slipped my left hand down his stomach and into his thong. His penis was
hard, too. I began gently to play with it. He sighed, flexing his chest a
little as he wriggled in his pleasure. I loved watching his amazing muscles
bulge and pump with their awesome strength; I had an incredibly sexy little
tiger in my lap, and he was really turning me on.
	Spark raised his wonderful alto voice to be heard above the noise of nearly
three hundred young, restless boys. "Everybody settle down!" he commanded.
We hushed ourselves.
	"Chain has asked me to lead a group of boys to Eisen to get the trifoil
seeds. I need five boys to go with me. It will be a dangerous trip, as Chain
said, and we will have to fight. Some of us may die." 
	A murmer circled through the crowd.
	"You all know that there are enslavers out there. Our patrols fight them
almost every day to help the baby boys come to this valley. I have fought
them; many of you have fought them too. But few of you know what would
happen to you if the enslavers caught you alive. You would be drugged,
beaten, starved, and used in the most brutal sex-pits imaginable until you
grew too old and too diseased to be valuable to them. Then you would be
killed. Few boys live to see their eighteenth birthday in the enslavers' sex
pits."
	Another murmer. I hugged Sun-Boy tightly and kissed him again. Spark continued:
	"I am asking for volunteers to go with me. Any boy here who is eleven years
old or over may volunteer. I need only the older boys, for we will need all
the strength we can get."
	I raised my hand. Sun-Boy raised his, too. "Put your hand down!" I hissed
at him. "You're not old enough!" He kept it up. I looked around and saw that
Spark would have a hard choice, for every single boy present who was eleven
or older had raised his hand! In that moment I was proud of my home, my
compatriots, my clan-boys. We all looked at each other and smiled our shy
but eager smiles, all of us willing to go even if it meant death.
	Spark's whole face lit up in the most beautiful grin I had ever seen. I
think he may have had tears in his eyes. He raised his own hand. The noise
increased; boys began to call out; boys began to cheer. And then, before the
noise became too great, Spark started swinging his upraised arm in rhythm,
and began to sing:

	"Ember River, valley fair,
	Boys may find their spirits there.
	Grow strong as lions, straight and true,
	And share their love as angels do."
	
	This is our song. We sing this over our campfires in the twilight and while
we fish the river or tend the trifoil. We sing this song while we work our
muscles in exercise and as we play our boy-games of all sorts. I suppose it
is our anthem; it binds us as an anthem does. 
	We all began singing. I had never heard all the boy-voices of Ember River
sing at once before. The music was so beautiful and full of all our hope
that I could not keep from weeping as I sang, and I saw tears on Sun-Boy's
cheeks, as well. We swayed with the beat, singing our little verse over and
over until our hearts seemed to burst - until Spark waved for us to be
silent and listen.
	Sun-Boy turned to me with his pride and love shining on his face. "I'm so
glad I'm an Ember River boy!" he said. "I feel so *lucky* that you boys
found me ..." I just hugged him, unable to trust my own voice. I felt even
luckier that we had found him, and that we were all Ember River boys
together ... I wiped my tears in his beautiful hair and we settled to listen.
	"Thanks, all of you," said Spark. "You make me proud to be one of you! But
I cannot take you all. I will choose five boys: the five I think I will need.
	"First, I need a boy who knows the city of Eisen and its gangs well. I
choose Blaze." 
	Blaze was twelve. He was called Blaze because he had tattoos of flames on
his chest. He had joined the Ember River boys only two years earlier, when
he had been abandoned by his Eisen gang. He had been raised in Eisen and
knew the city as we knew our valley. Because he had only been taking trifoil
and our exercise regimen for two years, he had not developed anywhere near
the strength the rest of us possessed, though he was easily stronger than
any ordinary boy his age. He stood up, his reddish-brown hair windblown and
tangled, and joined Spark on the rock-stage before us. "I know I'm not as
strong as the rest of you," he said. "But you saved my life when I was
abandoned and I will fight for you with everything I have." We cheered him.
I knew him, having taught him to read and write, and I knew that his loyalty
was fierce.
	Spark continued. "Second, I need the strongest and best fighters of all of
us. I choose Talon." 
	Talon was twelve, nearly thirteen and many months older than Spark himself,
and while his strength was indeed remarkable and his fighting skill
unexcelled, I knew that he did not have the sharpest of minds. He stood,
flexed his powerful muscles, and mounted the stage as well. "Me too!" he
shouted to us. "I'll do whatever Spark needs me to do!"
	"Third, I choose Leo."
	Leo was the only eleven-year-old who had defeated me in the wrestling. I
felt good that he had been chosen; it meant that Spark had noticed him and
so would have noticed me. He joined the others on the stage. "You all know
me," he said. "I'm ready for anything!" He flexed his impressive young
biceps and we cheered him as well. Leo was a very brave boy, but I had
reservations about him. He was impulsive and undisciplined and did not take
well to my instruction; I believed that his pride and ambition sometimes
overcome his judgement.
	"Fourth, I need a boy with outstanding strength and fighting skill, but who
also possesses the wisdom and intelligence I will need if I am to lead a
successful mission. I choose Quill."
	I was overjoyed! I had never known that Spark thought this much of me and
my heart burst with pride as I kissed Sun-Boy and stood to join them on the
stage.
	Chain spoke. "Spark, it may not be wise to take Quill. The younger boys
need him here so much ..."
	"Please, Chain. I need him. He's among our strongest and he's beyond doubt
our best mind. He will advise me and ensure that I do not make too many
errors. Let me take him."
	Here Spark was being overly generous to me; I do think I am fairly bright,
but there are other boys among us who are brighter. And Spark was also being
modest, for in my opinion he is one of these boys.
	Chain nodded. "We will leave it up to him. Quill, I need you here. I have
no one else who can teach the younger boys as well as you can. They love
you. Will you stay or will you go?"
	This was a situation I had never experienced before. The two boys I
respected more than any others both wanted me! I knew I had responsibilities
to the boys I taught, but I could not turn down Spark. I would have given
anything to go with him. And then there was Sun-Boy - how could I leave him
and go, perhaps, to my death? I glanced back at him. He was standing with
his hands clasped together in front of him, gazing at me with the same
respect I used to see in his eyes as I explained writing to him. I opened my
mouth to say something to him, but I could not find words. He smiled, and
mouthed "Go."


Ember River chapter 2   part b          by Lead Guitarist

	"Sun-Boy -" I called to him.
	"I'll be ok. Go! Spark needs you."
	"I'm sorry, Chain," I said. "I have to go if Spark wants me." Chain nodded
his assent.
	I turned to Spark. "Thank you for choosing me. I hope I won't let you down."
	He gave me that smile of his, the smile I would die to see. "You won't."
	I turned to the assembled boys. Many had tears and I was beginning to cry
too, for I loved them as they loved me, and we all knew that I might never
return to them. I tried to keep my voice as brave as Spark's. "I have to go
with Spark. Hawkwing will teach the younger boys while I am gone." I looked
for Hawkwing in the crowd, found him, and he nodded his agreement. He is a
smart boy of twelve years and I trust him to do well.
	I looked back at Sun-Boy. I missed him already. My heart was ready to burst
with love for him and with hope that I would survive this expedition and do
well enough that he would be proud of me when I returned. I wanted so much
to be worthy of him and of his love. He was standing where I had left him
and I could see tears on his cheeks and the quivering of his shoulders as he
wept and I almost had to look away, for I did not want to see his sorrow. He
waved at me and forced a smile, then sat and put his head in his hands and
let the tears come. Two boys, Javelin and young Tomcat, stood beside him and
comforted him and I was glad they were there.
	Spark laid his hand on my shoulder. "It will be all right," he said. "I
know how you and Sun-Boy love each other." 
	He turned to face the boys. "I need one more. I need a boy of terrific
strength and fighting skill, and whose spirit is so bright that he will keep
us from despair no matter how bad the situation gets. I choose Sun-Boy."
	I do not know whose reaction I should mention first, so I will begin with
my own. I was shocked. I truly did not believe that Spark would consider
Sun-Boy, because he was so young, and also because he was always so gentle
and so beautiful that I assumed that nobody would even think of exposing him
to any danger. From shock my heart moved to sheer joy and relief, because it
meant that Sun-Boy and I would not be separated after all. And I felt a huge
warm thanks to Spark for choosing my love to accompany us.
	The assembled boys gasped, groaned, shouted disapproval. All of them knew
and loved Sun-Boy and knew he was young and knew his tenderness; I know that
for them Sun-Boy and violence just did not belong in the same breath.
	Chain stood. "Spark, I have to say no. Sun-Boy is too young and this
mission is too dangerous."
	"I need him, Chain. His strength is enormous for his age - he is almost as
strong as I am. And we need him for his spirit. There will be dark nights,
dangerous nights, and these boys -" Spark gestured towards Talon and Leo and
Blaze, and maybe me as well - "- will perhaps forget the beauty of Ember
River and lose hope. Sun-Boy *is* Ember River! We will succeed with him
because we will succeed *for* him. I cannot inspire these boys without him."
	I watched Sun-Boy when Spark chose him. He glanced up and I saw his face
open and beam and glow with a sudden joy that warmed me in my bones. He
stood, his hands on the shoulders of the astonished Javelin and Tomcat, and
while Spark defended his choice, Sun-Boy came to the stage.
	Chain spoke. "Sun-Boy .... surely you don't want to go! It will be very
dangerous and ... and we'll worry so much ..."
	"I know," Sun-Boy said. "But I want to go. It will be easier for me if I'm
with Quill and not here worrying about him. And if Spark says he needs me, I
have to be there for him." 
	Spark rested his hand on Sun-Boy's shoulder. "It'll be great, Chain! Look
at this team! If you want a team that can bring back the trifoil seeds, who
else could you choose? I know how valuable these boys are, but that's why I
need them. It will be best for all of Ember River if the best boys go."
	Chain hesitated a few seconds, and at last he nodded. "I approve your
choices." He then took Spark in his powerful arms and hugged him for a long
time. Everyone could see that his penis was stiff in his thong. Spark's
young cock grew to erection as well. And Sun-Boy came to me and we embraced,
and our hard cocks rubbed together through the thin fabric of our thongs. I
think we all felt good, brave, and ready, and horny, too.
	At last Chain released Spark and addressed the assembled boys. "We need to
prepare our team for their journey! Let us anoint them with the strength of
our love! Everybody bathe yourselves - we're having a spunk-dance today!"
	Cheers erupted from the boys. Almost as one they leapt to their feet and
charged for the river. A spunk-dance was a rare event, usually held only on
the occasion of a leader's leaving the valley and a new leader's elevation
to his post. I had never been one of those celebrated before, but I knew I
was in for something special.
	Of course, I was unable to keep track of the actions of everybody during
the spunk-dance, because I was so busy during it myself, so my description
of it will not be entirely accurate. However, it is based on my talks with
the boys who participated and on my recollections of previous spunk-dances,
as well as on the events I did witness and participated in, so I believe my
account will be true to the spirit of the spunk-dance and will give the
reader a fair idea of what a spunk-dance is and how this particular one
proceeded. But be warned that I am taking license; I am sure that Chain will
not mind.
	Two hours after the meeting, all of the boys of the Ember River valley were
clean, in clean thongs, their muscles freshly pumped and their bodies
glistening with aromatic oils. I watched them as they gathered on our common
by the riverside: hundreds of beautiful boys, all naked but for their tiny
thongs, all rippling with healthy, strong muscle shining in the sunlight,
all vibrant with glee and excitement, most already horny and showing off the
bulges in their thongs as they showed off the bulging of their muscles. They
were laughing, shouting, skipping and dancing and hugging each other as they
assembled, the mood one of high-spirited exuberance rather than the more
somber air of the morning.
	Our ceremonial drums were produced. Sixteen of them were arranged in a wide
circle and our best drummers began to beat them in a slow, sensual rhythm. I
love this part of the dance: the beginning of the beat feels like a boy's
heart and I suddenly feel as though I'm close to an excited, muscled young
body warm and horny and almost touching my skin, and my own penis grows to
full stiffness and stays that way through the entire dance. The throb of the
drumbeat makes me throb.
	The beat has the same effect on the drummers themselves. I watched Colt, a
lean, strapping twelve-year-old drummer, as the rhythm took him. His
rippling muscles pulsed and undulated under his skin as he beat the drumskin
with his hands. Eyes closed in bliss, he began to sway his hips and roll his
young shoulders, and I stood for a while and watched his taut body move. His
thighs and buttocks flexed and relaxed with the pulse, the muscles surging
into bold relief as the boy lifted himself on his toes. I watched his
shoulders and hips twisting ecstatically, sexually, rolling and grinding and
working as he lost himself in his drumming, and I lost myself in the beauty
of his young body.
	I moved into position behind him and began to dance, matching his every
move. He did not even know I was there until I reached my arms around his
waist and began running my hands over his oiled, muscular abdomen. Then he
glanced back at me, grinning widely to encourage me. My penis was hot and as
hard as hot iron in my thong, and I bucked my hips to drive my crotch into
the cleft between Colt's tight buttocks and I matched every move he made. As
he swung his hips, I swung mine so as to keep my cock locked between his
cheeks. I slipped my hands all over his strong young torso, feeling the
hardness and strength of each muscle, and at last I slid my fingers under
his thong and gripped his rock-hard penis in my fist. "Ohhhh", he sighed as
I played with his hot boycock. I nuzzled closer, pressing as much of my body
against his as I could, feeling our warm, oil-slick skins slide against each
other.
	I released his penis and stroked his muscled body, letting my hands do what
they will. Playfully I slapped his hard, ridged belly in time to his own
drumming, adding my own fills and riffs to his music. I reached down and
groped his bulging thighs, rippling boymuscle seething and flowing just
under his hot skin, clenching steel-hard and relaxing to the beat. To me,
nothing feels better than the muscles of a hot, horny young boy as he sweats
through his oiled skin. Soon Colt's thong and mine were soaked with our
sweat and the fragrant oil, clinging to our rock-stiff penises as they
strained to burst free. I continued massaging Colt's inner thighs, moving
higher until I was playing with his balls and his throbbing, struggling
boy-cock. Never once did he miss a beat, though waves of sexual ecstasy were 
	"Oh, Quill!" he gasped after a few minutes. "Please don't make me cum yet!
I have to drum all day!"
	I kissed his neck. "OK, Colt. I can't cum yet either! But you sure do look
hot when you play your drum!" I released him and let him play on.