The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (33 page)

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While a stable hand was fastening his saddlebags on the fresh

horse, Rullio of Brenx looked at the map they had given him at the

Guild Post of Nira. He smiled contentedly. As far as he could make

out he had covered almost two hundred and fifty miles in only three

days. He had changed horses every three to four hours or so and had

ridden for up to ten hours a day. His buttocks and the inside of his

upper legs felt sore. More than half a year without riding a horse had

left them tender. His muscles too weren’t used anymore to the strain.

“She’s all ready to go, my lord,” the young stable boy said. “Seems

you could use a rest, though,” he added when he saw Rullio massage

his butt. “Not used to riding a horse like, are we, my lord?”

“Thank you for your heartfelt concern for my posterior, my good

friend, but contrary to what you believe I am quite used to horse

riding. Only, the last six months circumstances, completely beyond

my will, I assure you, have prevented me from mounting one.”

“And now your ass, pardon the expression, feels all sore and

leathery like a saddle, I bet,” the boy said knowingly. “We have a salve

for that. It’s sticky and it stinks. Dirt cheap though, and it works. I

would be happy to apply it.”

The boy gazed from under his downcast eyelids at the young

nobleman. Slender, brown wavy hair, an easy smile and mocking

eyes. He liked what he saw. Rullio looked back at the boy with a

surprised expression on his pleasant face.

“Would you now? How very kind of you. Only, I’m afraid my

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behind might hurt even more after your ministrations.”

The boy blushed.

“I have very soft hands, and I’ll be very careful,” he whispered.

Rullio laughed.

“Are you that obliging with everybody, my bashful friend?”

The boy flushed even more.

“No, not at all, my lord. It’s just that I can’t see you suffer like that.

I’m sensitive like.”

“I’m not used to dropping my pants in any stable, you know. What

if somebody comes in here?”

“There’s the shed in the back where we keep the hay, my lord.

Very convenient like.”

Rullio looked the stable hand over. Straw blond hair, an open pair

of green-blue eyes, a fair complexion and the musculature that goes

with a job that requires a lot of physical exertion. He as well liked

what he saw.

“I don’t see how I could refuse your kind offer, my friend, since

you seem to have thought all this through. Well, lead the way. I must

warn you though. Horses are not the only things I found myself

unable to mount.”

“Really?” the boy exclaimed, a big smile appearing on his face.

“That worked?”

“On one condition. That you let me repay you in kind. Your back

muscles seem a little cramped. I could loosen them for you. After all,

I myself am renowned for my soft, yet firm hands.”

The boy went over to some makeshift shelves on the wall and

took one little jar out of a dozen similar looking ones.

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“What might your name be, my eager friend?” Rullio asked.

“Over here they mostly call me ‘hey you,’ but my mother named

me Yonnick.” The boy grinned.

“Rullio of Brenx, at your service, master Yonnick.”

“If you would be so kind as to follow me like, my lord,” Yonnick

said, his voice raspy with anticipation.

Once in the shed, Rullio couldn’t help notice that the bales of hay

were arranged carefully to make a comfortable space, fit for more

than one person to lie down on.

“Where do you want me?” he asked.

“Right here is fine,” Yonnick whispered, slightly sweating. “If you

would just, eh, drop them like, eh, so I can...”

Rullio loosened his belt slowly. Yonnick noticed his hesitation.

“Would it be more convenient like, my lord, if I too...” he

stammered.

“It seems only fair, doesn’t it?” Rullio beamed.

Yonnick put the ointment jar on a hay bale and began hastily

removing his clothes. In under a minute he stood stark naked before

Rullio, who in the meantime had barely managed to undo his belt.

He didn’t blush, mainly because all the available blood in his body

seemed to be concentrating elsewhere.

“Let me help you, my lord,” Yonnick said as he yanked Rullio’s

pants and underpants down in one fell swoop. Without much ado he

untied the lace of his shirt and began pulling the garment over Rullio’s

head. Panting a bit from the effort he then took a step backwards and

looked Rullio over.

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“Oh, my lord, you’re all tense like there,” he said gazing in

admiration at Rullio’s erection.

“Well, Yonnick, my friend, could you think of anything to alleviate

my all too obvious affliction?”

“What? Oh, that. Certainly, immediately, at once, my lord,” the

boy said, still not believing his luck.

He kneeled down and took Rullio’s member in his mouth. If

Rullio had ever doubted it, now he knew for sure that Yonnick was

by no means a novice. After more than six months with his right

hand for only company, having his dick enclosed in a warm, moist

receptacle felt like heaven. Yonnick’s tongue explored the length of

his shaft, while his fingers were gently pulling at his ball sack, putting

the lightest of pressure on his testicles. The combination drove him

almost out of his mind.

“Easy, easy, my zealous friend,” he gasped.

Yonnick looked up in surprise.

“You don’t like it, my lord?” he asked, a bit cast down.

“On the contrary, I assure you,” Rullio smiled, “but we want this

to last a while, don’t we?”

He helped the boy stand up, lifted him of the ground and carried

him over to the hay bales where he lay him cautiously down. The

big, open eyes of the stable hand followed his every movement. He

lowered himself upon Yonnick and began half kissing, half licking

him all over, taking care to give special attention to the boy’s sensitive

spots. He felt Yonnick writhe under him as he explored the contours

of a nipple with his tongue, while pressing his groin against the boy’s

erection.

Until now Yonnick had only known a furtive, hasty, and wild

groping kind of sex, culminating in a grunting and forceful penetration.

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Being caressed with the lips of another guy who seemed to want to

devour him, who seemed to want to make him enjoy the experience,

was completely new.

“Oh, my lord, my lord,” he whimpered, while goosebumps formed

all over his body, and he shivered with ravishment while his fingers

clawed uncontrollable in the hay without finding the slightest hold.

His first reflex was to protest when he felt Rullio lift his legs,

exposing his entrance. He blushed scarlet as he sensed Rullio’s

tongue wandering from the base of his dick to under his ball sack,

and when he felt lips closing around one of his testicles he looked

sideways and bit on a finger to suppress his involuntary moaning.

“Hold these for me,” Rullio whispered haltingly, guiding Yonnick’s

arm around the fold of his flexed legs.

Leaning in between the stable hand’s legs, he softly stimulated

the boy’s member while simultaneously probing his entrance with

a finger of his right hand. Yonnick melted under the twinkling eyes

of the young noble. He startled when he felt a second finger entering

him softly, gently, almost shyly, and he relaxed in abandonment

when he saw Rullio smiling entrancingly at him. All resistance being

unavailing in advance, Yonnick simply let go and drifted upon the

waves that took possession of his every nerve.

He inhaled sharply, two times in quick succession, when the

fingers where replaced by something more voluminous. Rullio

leaned backwards, lifting the defenseless boy with him. Yonnick

lowered his legs around Rullio’s hips, and with his arms held onto

him as one who drowns holds onto a raft. Still fully disoriented by

the flood of sensations, he gave way when the young noble kissed

him full on the lips and urged his tongue inwards. Penetrated again,

the boy obeyed the tender command and responded with all the

inexperienced fervor of his willingness to learn.

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“Oh... oh... my lord, my lord,” he moaned pleadingly as Rullio

pressed their bodies together.

Rullio gradually thrust harder and harder, finally breaking the

contact of their lips. The rubbing of both their bodies against his

trapped member was so unusual and exciting a feeling that it soon

became unbearable. Yonnick felt himself being filled with a glorious

warmth, while Rullio strained every muscle of his body and yanked

his head backwards, suppressing his ecstasy to a long, deep sigh.

Barely a few moments later Yonnick erupted, gluing them together,

while his head was forced forward on the young noble’s shoulder.

They remained intertwined like that for a few minutes, while

Yonnick feverishly kissed every inch of Rullio’s skin he could reach

with his lips. Shaking his wavy hair out of his face and caressing

the young stable hand, Rullio felt like handling an overenthusiastic

puppy.

Finally they grew cold, and shivering they separated gingerly.

While he let himself be cleaned by the dexterous stable hand,

Rullio laughed out loud at the thought that Yonnick had taken the

precaution of providing a wooden bucket with water and two towels

for the eventuality of a chance meeting.

“My lord?” Yonnick asked of the still guffawing noble.

“Yes, my beautiful lover, what is it?” Rullio answered, still grinning.

“Shut up, my lord,” Yonnick said, pressing his lips against Rullio’s.

When he rode out of the court of the tavern, he smiled at Yonnick

and blew him a kiss with a broad, flourishing gesture. The stable

hand waved timidly back.

He thought about the farm boy who was his semi-permanent sex

buddy, and how he wanted Yonnick to lean over a stack of hay bales,

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ass in the air, so he could fuck him.

“So, this is what making love is like,”
Yonnick thought sadly.

“How, my lord, how am I ever going to be satisfied again with the

rough play that passes for intimacy? It was the only thing I knew

before I met you. You have opened a door, and now it’s closed again,

but the wonderful glimpse you gave me of what lies beyond is forever

burned in my mind.”

Rullio gave his horse the spurs. The vibrant animal under him,

the wind around his head, the satisfaction of having loved and

having been loved, it all made him feel more alive than he had felt

for months.

“Ye Gods, how good it is to be young and to breathe. Money in my

purse and excellent prospects. I’ve good hope to see some of my friends

again. There will be so much to talk about. We will eat and drink and

tell our stories and laugh and mourn... but we will mourn together.

Yet, Yonnick, I could see myself stay with you. Or, even better, take

you with me. You will always be one of the good memories.

What do you know? That foul smelling stuff seems to work.”

“Yes, indeed. I do.”

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Andrew Ashling

The next day, February 20th of the year 1453 after the Ending

of the Darkening, shortly before midday, Anaxantis, flanked by

Hemarchidas and Iftang stood at the edge of a slope that gently

descended into the Renuvian Plains. A bleak winter sun shone upon

the landscape before them.

“Here, right here, where the plateau ends we leave Ximerion,”

Anaxantis said enraptured. “Do you realize that for more than

three hundred years this has been the border, and that no official

expedition ever crossed it before today?”

“Aren’t we breaking the treaty with the Mukthars?” Iftang asked.