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Training Asu

by Habu


“You cannot put it off any longer, my friend. If you do not choose for Asu soon, the priests will take him. The choice will no longer be yours—or Asu’s. He is of age for starting the life chosen for him. He cannot do other than meet his destiny.”

“I know that, Sargon, it is just so hard . . .”

Baltasar, the wood merchant, was sitting at a table outside of the tea shop in the bazaar, sipping a blend that the owner of the shop, Sargon, had recently received from the East and had invited his friend to try. Sargon had, in fact, been pestering him to stop by, but Baltasar had been keeping to his own apartments above his shop for some time—precisely because he didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone.

“You know what Asu is meant for, Baltasar. You’ve known for years. His destiny for it has been evident since he was a child. He knows too, I am sure. He has not tried to leave the city, as some others have under these circumstances—until they are dragged back. So he is resigned to it.”

“Yes, yes. All of that is true. But it’s hard . . .”

“I could recommend the perfect place for him. There is a wine shop just inside the bazaar on the high road, almost in the shadow of the palace. That would be perfect for him. The wealthiest merchants and even the king’s officers go there. He would be your family’s fortunes.”

And yet Baltasar hesitated.

“It is inevitable. He is of age. The priests would do the same with him. Why not secure the family’s fortune rather than just having some meaningless tablet of favor from the temple to hang on your shop wall?”

After a brief pause. “You know of this wine shop? Do you really think it is the best opportunity for him?”

“I go there myself.”

* * * *

“Do not wiggle away from the patrons like that,” the wine shop owner, Hatim, hissed at Asu as he took him aside at the end of the long table the wine was served from. A soldier of the Palace Guard, Nasri, was leaning on the end of the table, several cups of wine into his evening. He, like all of the palace guardsmen, was a massive, heavily muscled man, battle forged. His chest and arm and thigh muscles were bulging. Clearly discernible as a mark of the elite palace soldiers was his short, heavy-leather slab skirt, sandals laced up to his knees, a chest medallion declaring his rank, and nothing else. The merchants and other private citizens of the town wore long gowns, called thawbs, of various quality of material. Most worn on the street were white in color.

“Sorry, master,” Asu whispered back. “It is just so difficult.”

“Do you want to be here, performing as required, or shall I take you to the priests at the temple myself?”

Hatim held his breath for the answer to that. Asu was far too beautiful for Hatim to want to lose him at the shop—and just as he and the tea shop owner, Sargon, had discussed, it would be one of the world’s tragedies to see Asu taken into the temple, not to be seen again, even if then, until after his beauty had been wiped away by continuous sacrifices to the gods.

The youth was small, but perfectly formed, with curly black hair and a sensuous smile. It was hard to believe he was of age, but everyone in the bazaar knew of everyone else’s age. They had all watched Asu grow to adulthood—some watched more closely and with much greater interest than others. Some with flashing eyes and licking lips and members that would harden under their thawbs as Asu walked by.

There was no hiding that it was time for Asu. Everyone knew it. Therefore the ravenous priests knew it as well. The giving of Asu to the wine shop by his father, Baltasar, estopped the certain plans of the priests, but for how long? If Asu could not cross over that curtain here willingly, the priests would take him and force him across the barrier. Asu knew that.

And Asu had just now traded his short cotton skirt, which, as he grew older and formed into perfection, drove many in the bazaar to distraction, for the thawb. The thawb could hide his form, but it could not hide his beauty. The priests will have noticed by now that the changing ceremony—the change from a short skirt to a thawb—that marked for all to see the cross to adulthood had been performed.

“I know, I know,” Asu said, a slight edge of panic in his voice. “Just be patient with me, please. It’s such a hard curtain to cross.”

“Try faster,” Hatim hissed. “See your sponsor over there. His cup is empty and he is showing its emptiness to you. He’s a rich and powerful man. Take him this cup of wine—and do as he wishes.”

Asu was trembling as he came around from behind the wine table. He was watching the nearly full cup he was carrying, trying hard not to spill any of the wine, his mind racing on this trip he was making—just across the wine shop floor, but perhaps across the curtain as well. As he passed around the side of the table, the burly soldier, Nasri, grabbed one of Asu’s rounded buttocks cheek through the material of his white cotton thawb, and Asu nearly spilled the wine. When he looked into Nasri’s face, the soldier winked and leered at him.

Asu scurried over to the table Hatim had directed him to.

“Put the wine cup down,” Asu’s father’s friend, Sargon, said in an alcohol slurred voice, low and husky. “And come, into my lap, and feel what a man is like.”

The tea shop owner pulled Asu roughly down into his lap and held him close to him in the embrace of an arm slung across Asu’s little chest. Sargon was big and fat but his grip was strong. And his demanding lust was obvious. As Asu was pulled into Sargon’s lap, he could feel the strength of a hard cock poking at his virginal buttocks.

“I have waited for years for this little one,” Sargon growled. “Feel what I have for you?”

Indeed, Asu could feel it. Although he would normally wear a loin cloth under his thawb, Hatim had told him not to wear it in the wine shop. The shop owner had made no secret why that was so, and Asu had not needed to wonder why. The wine shops were brothels as well, and this one was a male brothel. The patrons did not come here only for the wine. The fate of each of the citizens of this city was sealed long before they reached adulthood. It depended on their family status and business—and in the case of the soldiers on their size and musculature and promise of fighting skills. For young men as small and beautiful and as well formed as Asu, their destinies were set for either a wine shop such as this or the priesthood, where their bodies would be used just as fully—and perhaps more brutally and more often. They just wouldn’t receive the recompense that a wine shop gave, and the life span of a temple serving boy was sometimes marked in months, rather than years.

Sargon obviously wasn’t wearing anything under his thawb either. Asu squirmed around on his lap—not being unwilling or railing against his fate, but being scared and needing more patience than he was being given. Sargon was fat and gross and smelled not just of the wine, but also of the opiate he smoked and the spices he was served in his food that few others in the city could afford. And he was being rough and brutal. With his free hand, he reached around and grabbed Asu’s balls through the material of the thawb, and squeezed.

“Don’t fight. Or do fight me, it will make the taking all that more pleasurable. I will have you here and now. I have waited and schemed for too long.”

Asu, eyes watering, looked toward the wine table in panic. Hatim and the solider, Nasri, had their heads together in quiet conversation and were watching him.

Sargon was moving Asu’s rump around on his cock, almost, but not quite, achieving penetration through the two layers of cloth. His hand stopped squeezing Asu’s balls, but only so that it could gather up the hem of Asu’s thawb and work its way onto Asu’s leg. His long fingernails were scraping their way up the inside of Asu’s thigh.

The young man wailed, “Not yet . . . please,” and managed to break away from Sargon and almost stumble out onto the floor beside the table. He did go down on his knee, but while Sargon roared his anger behind him, Asu found his footing and struggled, the other men now in the hunt, each wanting to be the first, snatching at him with their hands as he passed.

He was nearly sobbing when he reached the relative safety behind the bar table again.

Surprisingly, Hatim didn’t admonish him. Rather, he held out a cup of wine and said, “Here, calm yourself, Asu. Drink this to calm yourself.”

Asu downed the cup of wine. Wine was not something that you were permitted to have before you came of age. Thus, although Asu had had a bit now and then and more than a bit in the week since his ceremony of change, this wine was stronger than he was accustomed to. So was the second cup.

He was feeling a bit woozy when he felt one of the soldier, Nasri’s, hands on his arm and the other one on his waist. Asu looked, with unfocusing gaze, at the soldier’s face. His expression was inscrutable. He was looking stern, but Asu noted a hint of a smile—and something else. The same lust that had been in Sargon’s eyes.

As for Sargon, he was still loudly mouthing his indignation at his table, but was soon stopped as Hatim hovered at his table, another one of the serving boys beside him, Hatim’s hand gripping the young man’s wrist. Asu saw Sargon lifting the hem of his thawb to his belly, and Asu saw the plump, hard cock of the man. And then Asu watched the ass of the other serving boy descend on the cock. It was all unreeling like it was in a surreal dream, though.

“Your master is done with you,” Nasri said in a growl. “I am taking you home.”

“No,” Asu whined. “He must give me another chance.”

“You will come with me,” Nasri said.

And there was no arguing with that, as Nasri had merely leaned over, taken Asu by the waist, and flung him over his shoulder.

Outside, after barely twenty steps, Asu was aware enough to say, “This is not the way to the wool merchant’s quarter. This is not the way to my father’s house.”

Nasri reached up and slapped Asu on the rump and said, “Perhaps we are not going there. Perhaps I am taking you to the temple for the priests to debauch.” And then he gave a hearty laugh.

* * * *

Supper couches, with gently raised backs, were fanned around the stone walls of the room. The floor was stone. So was the ceiling. There were torches, only half of them lit, fixed to the walls around the four sides. All of these couches were facing one, in the center of the room, that was flat.

The center couch had red-leather ropes attached to each of the four corners. The two at one end were tying off the wrists of a young man, swarthy in complexion, with a short beard and black body hair. The young man, not much taller than Asu, but more heavily muscled, covered in blue-tinted tattoos of primitive symbols, and thin of waist, with flaring thighs, and bulbous buttocks cheeks, was supporting the weight of his torso on his shoulder blades. His belly was inclined up, his jet-black cock and his heavy balls flopping back and forth, his black bush mingling with the more reddish, auburn bush of the man holding his torso on the incline and, kneeling between the darker-skinned man’s thighs, grabbing his waist, and fucking him in hard thrusts.

One of the dark-skinned man’s arms appeared to be broken—he screamed each time the thrust of the cock of his assailant jerked it. There were bloodied slashes across his chest and his thighs, and a dirty rag tied around one of his ankles. He was bleeding from a knife wound in his side. His knees were bent and lacerated—Nasri remarked to Asu that this was caused by sinking to them in defeat on the battlefield—and his bare feet, his ankles bound to the long, red cords at the foot of the couch, were flat on the surface of the lounge on either side of the soldier’s beefy thighs.

It was obvious that it was a member of the Palace Guard who was fucking him. The short skirt with the leather slabs was on the floor next to the couch, the soldier’s sandals next to that, and the medallion of rank was still around the soldier’s neck, swinging back and forth in rhythm with the thrusts of his cock. The soldier’s musculature was magnificent, as it was with all of the palace guardsmen, and his cock was thick and was pistoning hard and fast.

The man tied to the couch had been screaming when Nasri carried Asu into the room over his shoulder. They had not gone to Asu’s father’s house, but they had not gone in the direction of the temple, either. The solider had carried Asu into the entrance of the king’s palace and turned immediately to the right, entering the guard house and proceeding through that to the living quarters of the Palace Guard.

The man on the couch had long, black hair, in ringlets, and as Nasri and Asu entered the chamber, hearing the man’s screams from as far away as the entrance into the palace forecourt, the soldier fucking him had grabbed him by the hair, punched him in the face with a fist, and pounded his head against the hard surface of the couch until the man was reduced to moans and groans.

The soldier grabbed the man’s legs by the ankles and wishboned him in a wide, high spread to the limits that the red cords binding his ankles would permit, and started fucking his hole with deeper, anger-filled stabbing thrusts.

Upon entering the chamber, Nasri stopped about five paces from the center couch, pulled Asu down the front of his body, and held Asu to his pelvis. Still dazed, Asu had no trouble discerning that Nasri’s cock pressing in the cleavage of his buttocks was harder and bigger than Sargon’s had been.

Nasri pulled Asu’s thawb over his head and cast it aside on the floor. All Asu was wearing now were his sandals and the golden chain around his neck that his father had given him for good luck.

“Hatim has paid me to get you over your reluctance,” Nasri said. Both he and Asu had their eyes trained on the taking on the couch. “He wants it done fast and completely, and he wants you returned fully conditioned and resigned to it. Are you going to fight me?”

“No, Sire,” Asu murmured. “I want it done as much as he does.” His voice, however, revealed the great fear and regret with which he spoke this accepted truth.

“A pity perhaps,” Nasri said. “I like an attempt to fight. That man on the couch has fought. But he has lost. A captive from battle yesterday out on the plains. Karan there saw a friend of his lose his life to this man in battle. The captive was given to Karan. I thought that Karan would be finished with him by now, but he is toying with him. He had started when I left for the wine shop. I thought the taking couch would be free. No matter, though, I will initiate you standing here while we watch.”

Asu moaned and trembled in Nasri’s embrace. Nasri was holding the shorter young man off the floor, with just one arm encircling his waist. Asu’s body was jutting out from his at the pelvis, and his arms were dangling beside him. His head was lifted, though, and he was watching the brutal fucking on the couch. The soldier was up on his feet, crouching, taking deep, slamming thrusts into the captive’s channel. Rearing his buttocks back to where the long, thick cock came out of the hole, and then ramming it inside with a hard thrust of his hips. The captive was groaning quietly, just hanging there, supported only by the soldier’s hands on his waist raising the man’s pelvis to the punishing cock. The wounds on his chest, side, and thighs had opened and blood was oozing out of them. There also was a trickle of blood coming down from his scalp in front and his lower lip and an ear, torn where the soldier must have taken bites out of him. Cum was dribbling out of his hole. There had been several takings. The soldier had even taken time out for refreshment and then come back to resume the attack.

Asu felt the leather skirt of his own soldier hit the floor and get pushed aside with a foot. And he felt the hard cylinder of the cock, skin on skin. Long, hard, thick. Another Palace Guard requirement. Virility was the pride of the city. When the guardsmen marched on parade in the city, they marched naked except for their medallions of rank. If they could not take pride in what was swinging between their thighs, they would not be in the Palace Guard. Nasri’s cock was lodged between Asu’s thighs, pushing at the base of his balls and cock. He was slowing stroking, dry fucking Asu already.

“You are so big,” Asu murmured in fright.

“The best to initiate you. When you can take the cock of a palace guardsmen, you will have no trouble in the wine shop. This is best for you. Tonight you will take more than one palace guardsman’s cock. I promised to return you fully prepared.”

Asu moaned and began to shudder.

“Do not fear, my sweet little one. I will take good care of you. I almost would not take Hatim’s money. To be the first in one like you—to ream you to Palace Guard requirements—is reward enough in itself.”

Over the next several moments, Nasri worked to get his cock inside Asu’s hole, but it just wasn’t working. Nasri was too big and Asu too virginal. Nasri gave up on the direct approach. He carried Asu over to one of the other couches, crouching down as he moved and retrieving the leather bands used as belting for his leather skirt. Laying Asu’s back on the end of the couch, he called out, “Bring me taking grease.”

In short order a Nubian slave arrived with the requested lotion. In the meantime Nasri had tied Asu’s ankles together, pushed his legs up to his chest, and then tied his wrists in front of him, so that his legs were encased between his chest and his bound arms. When the slave arrived, Nasri was tonguing Asu’s hole and patting it, commanding it to open for him.

Asu was moaning at the unexpected pleasure of this sensation. He arched his back and groaned loudly, though, when Nasri’s beefy, greased fingers started to work at opening his channel up.

“Sorry that you must be bound,” Nasri whispered. “But this must happen, and quickly. There will be no running away from me as you did from that fat, rich merchant, Sargon. Hatim has declared that when you come back you will sit on Sargon’s cock—or not come back alive.”

Asu moaned as much for what Nasri had said as for what he was doing with his fingers.

“Servants,” a voice rang out from the center couch. “I think it is finished for now. I wouldn’t want to use him up in one session. Come clean up and throw him in the cells.”

Asu heard a scurrying of feet, the sound of something being carried off, scrubbing of the center couch and the floor around it—and then silence.

“Ah, good,” he heard Nasri say. “We can use the taking couch after all.”

Bound at all four corners of the couch, but with enough give that he could kneel on all fours, Asu had his head raised and his mouth hanging open, panting heavily and whimpering. Nasri was covering him close from above and slow pumping his cock inside Asu.

The screaming and begging for mercy were over—had been over for nearly half an hour. It had been difficult even with the taking grease and the preparation by the fingers, but Nasri was insistent and determined—and Asu was bound and helpless. Asu could take no more of the demands on his knees and elbows and, with a groan, he sank to the surface of the couch.

“Just as well,” Nasri muttered. “I must ensure full access.”

Asu had no idea what the soldier meant until he felt the giant pull out of him and the leather strips being secured around his thighs and his calves, holding his legs close together. He arched his back and screamed again as Nasri started working his cock into the now-tightened channel.

There had been a change of shift in the palace guardsmen, and those going off duty had passed those coming on duty in the supper room. The city was large, but the repute of Asu for beauty and the end of the counting of his days for the change ceremony were well known, so all stopped beside the center couch while passing from and to their duty. They could not believe their good fortune, when Nasri told them what he was doing with Asu, why, and that they all might have a part in it.

“We are preparing him for his wine shop duties, training him to take the cocks of men,” Nasri told all who asked. “If you wish, those of you coming off duty, stay and you may have him too. And for those who are going on duty, we will still be here when you are relieved. But he is not for rough taking, lads. We are conditioning and hardening him, not punishing him. Keep that in mind, as hard it is, I know, for you not to be rough. I’m sure that all of you, like me, want to have him survive for our visits to Hatim’s wine shop. He is our guest tonight, not our captive. The bindings are for his benefit.”

Nasri came this time inside Asu. Asu had already come countless times in nervousness, fear, shock, and, eventually, the glory of the taking. As Nasri untied the leather strips around Asu’s thighs and calves, another strapping, young palace guardsman stepped forward.

“Retie him on his back; just the arms,” he said. Nearly a dozen hands moved quickly to untie Asu’s wrists and ankles from the red cords; turn him, groaning; onto his back; and then rebinding his wrists to the corners of the couch. Taking a plump pillow from another couch, the strapping soldier climbed up onto the center couch with his knees, pushed the pillow under the small of Asu’s back, wishboned his legs with fists grabbing his ankles, and slid a throbbing, hard cock inside him, easily opening a channel that had already been stretched by Nasri.

Asu could feel the difference of the cock, which surprised him, and although he cried out at the first thrust, this one wasn’t as thick as Nasri was, so Asu felt prepared to take him. He also was younger than the rest and over anxious. Four thrusts and he exploded, adding his semen to that already contributed by Nasri.

“The gods be cursed,” he cried out.

“No tragedy,” Nasri said. “There is room at the end of this line.”

The third man was content with taking Asu the same way, but subsequent guardsmen each had his own characteristics and preferences and feel. One even had Asu rebound with his knees pulled into his chest and ankles tied to wrists, laid him on his side on the couch, stood next to him, and plowed him sideways. Once taken across the curtain, Asu was grateful for this education—although the lessons could have stopped several hours before they did.

Mercifully, he was not there for the next change in shift. The captain of the guard strutted in on the proceedings, asked the gathered guardsmen what in Hades were they doing with this young civilian of the city. When he was told, he ordered them to unbind the young man. Then he reached down and picked Asu up, threw the spent youth over his shoulder much as Nasri had done much earlier in the evening, and took Asu to his own, private quarters.

* * * *

The captain of the king’s Palace Guard, Mahir, was not of the world of the subordinate guardmen’s supper couches, or of the city’s wine shops, or even of the city’s merchant world. He was a senior official of the king and was a man of the palace court. His was not of a world of fucking serving boys in the wine shops; his was of the world of courtesans and of taking young men fully and well on silken couches and leaving them both sobbing and sighing, unable to close their legs and not wanting to, grasping at him for another throw.

Asu was trembling and moaning, hiccupping and groaning as the captain carried him into his bedchamber. The contrast between Mahir’s quarters and those of the palace guardsmen was startling. Within the same stark stone walls that held the guardsmen’s supper room, a luxurious chamber had been assembled—tapestries on the walls, carpets from the Orient on the floor, leather-seated campaign chairs, a large sleeping couch, covered by the skins of exotic wild animals, and a many-armed chandelier in the ceiling, casting bright light from a hundred candles.

A young man of handsome visage and dressed only in bangles and rouged nipples lay on the couch when Mahir entered, carrying Asu over his shoulder. Mahir waved away the courtesan, and when he, pouting, had removed himself, Mahir pulled Asu down to in front of his body, with Asu facing the bed. He encircled Asu’s heaving belly with a strong arm, covered the young man’s privates with a beefy hand, and let his hardening cock part Asu’s thighs, the bulb pressing against the base of Asu’s ball sac, giving Asu the sensation of his torso resting on a gigantic, throbbing cylinder. Asu knew what it was, though, and he panted in fearful anticipation.

The contrast in living styles was not the end of it. Mahir’s body was unlike those of the younger Palace Guard soldiers, as well. To their Apollo physiques, he was a Zeus. Massive, barrel chested, and thick waisted, but all hard muscle, his cut torso the model for the shaped body plates the soldiers wore into battle. His thighs were as the trunks of the cedars and his feet and hands were broad and long, with long, plump digits. The shoulder-length hair of his head and short beard was gray-blond, the gray beginning to take control. Other than that he was hairless except for the blond thatching in his pits and a luxurious blond bush, in which nestled the prize cock and balls of the regiment—his championship equipment contributing to why he was the captain of the guard. Many of the other guardsmen had indulged in body tattooing. Mahir only had a double row of black notches running down either side of his trunk, ominously celebrating the men he had dispatched in battle.

Mahir kissed Asu on the neck and in the hollow of his shoulders, and on his ears, taking those into his mouth and licking around them, before putting his lips next to Asu’s ear and speaking softly, in a deep voice.

“You cannot escape your destiny, young man. But you can control it and learn to use it and let yourself revel in it. You have a beauty that makes men dribble, a small size that makes men feel more the man, and a very nice set of privates . . .” Here Mahir stopped cupping Asu’s cock and balls and moved the hand back to where it parted Asu’s buttocks cheeks and found and gently rubbed Asu’s entrance, already conditioned to pucker and open to the touch. “. . . the plumpest orbs I’ve parted in some time—I can hardly wait to part them with more than my fingers—and a hole that, though now a bit swollen, is fit for a king’s cock. Perhaps after a few months in the wine shops . . .”

“You are so different. You make it sound so different,” Asu murmured. “Not like the soldiers out there, not like the men in the wine shop. You speak to me, saying things that make me stir. But in the end you are going to take me too, aren’t you.”

“Oh yes, little one. In the end I am going to cock you too. I’m going to cock you as you have not yet been plowed. I did not bring you in here just for a fatherly chat. But, although well meaning—and for your own good—Nasri and the men were using the wrong approach with you, I think. As he tells it, it was not unwillingness or rejection of your destiny that made you resistant, but it was fear of the cock, a hating of it possessing you. Is that not so?”

Asu did not answer, but Mahir could feel him already relaxing in his grip. His free hand was roaming all over Asu’s body, gliding over the curves, into the crevices, covering the young man’s breasts and rubbing the now-engorged nipples.

“When we are done here, you will love the cock. You will see it as your gate to riches and pleasure. You will understand your body as the key to open the hearts and purses of other men, within days or weeks—which must be finished before I can bring you back into the palace—you will be totally conditioned to the largest of men. You already have had the largest of men to be had in the kingdom. From tonight, it will be you controlling men, with your beauty, for as long as it lasts. And if you’re clever enough, when the beauty has given out, the riches will sustain you. And when you are properly conditioned, no longer sore down here from the preparations of the palace guardsmen, you will have only pleasure—your own pleasure—from the cocks.”

“I can obtain pleasure—my own pleasure—from the . . . the cock?” Asu murmured. He was panting in shallow breaths at the attentions of Mahir’s hand on his body. And his voice was slightly slurred, thick with something he had not yet identified as arousal.

He did, however, realize that his own cock was engorging at the touch of Mahir’s hand and fingers. Mahir began a slow, sensuous stroking of Asu’s cock.

“Yes, before you leave my bed, you will be begging for the cock. And you will have pleasure. You have pleasure now, do you not? Did any of my soldiers bother to do this for you?”

Asu shook his head in a negative. He could not speak through his low moans and groans. This indeed was pleasure, this stroking of his cock. All of his attention was now riveted to the hand stroking his cock.

“There are pleasures to be had in the act, little one. Pleasures that you can demand and control, while still demanding rich rewards. And soon, very soon, riding the cock will be second nature to you. You can then concentrate on getting your enjoyment as much from having it inside you as you do from the rewards it brings in.”

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine . . . I’m so frightened.”

“Think beyond the wine shop. Think of being in the palace and of riding the cock of a king. He is expert, but he is not built like his palace guardsmen are. He will give you pleasures you can only imagine now, without taxing your guts as the soldiers did . . . or as I am about to do.”

Asu squirmed a bit within Mahir’s embrace.

“Yes, little one, as I am about to do. The guardsmen who snatched your virginity, your first soldier, Nasri, is in training to succeed me—someday. He is being trained in the positions of India. He thought that what you needed was a rough taking to prepare you for the wine shop. After seeing you—and yes I have heard about your charms from the talk of the street—I believe you should be conditioned to the king’s bed. While you are in the wine shop, I will send Nasri to you, and he will teach you the positions of India. But tonight, little one. Tonight you are mine—your sweet hole is a sheath for my thick sword. I wish to be inside you when you are still tight, before you are slack. Your walls will be stretched to the point of split. You have yet to be cocked as I am going to cock you.”

Asu groaned and nearly fainted, with Mahir still holding him close.

This was part of the conditioning. Mahir was pushing Asu to the brink with the imagery of what was to come. This was all part of the foreplay that his guardsmen had not learned helped in the battle.

Asu moaned, close to ejaculation, his hips in motion, with Mahir having loosened the grip on the cock to permit Asu to stroke inside his encircling beefy fingers. Mahir placed his index finger on Asu’s piss slit and pressed into it while his teeth went to Asu’s ear and gently pressed into and scraped along the lobe. With a cry—which he still did not know was ecstasy—Asu breathily announced that he was about to explode inside.

Quick as can be, Mahir released both Asu’s cock and his body and had turned both himself and Asu so that Mahir was kneeling in front of Asu, supporting Asu’s body in a half crouch, with a strong arm around the small of his back. Asu’s torso was arched back, away from Mahir. Mahir’s mouth covered Asu’s cock, and his free hand went to Asu’s ball sac. He gently pulled Asu’s balls down from his body and then squeezed the balls, again gently. With a howl of release, Asu ejaculated down the Palace Guard captain’s throat.

“Tell me now that you cannot get pleasure from your destiny,” Mahir said as he lifted Asu and lowered the young man’s shuddering body, belly down, on the sleeping couch.

Asu felt his legs being moved apart and the knees of the captain come down between them. He sensed the massive torso hovering over his back. He felt the warm breath on the back of his neck and then the kiss there. He turned his head and saw the heavily muscled arm, with its puckered battle scars, planted firmly on a gigantic closed fist at the side of his shoulder. He felt the bulb of the cock—the monster cock—at his hole. It was being rubbed across his entrance. And then taken away and slapped against his buttocks cheeks. Then back to the hole, rubbing across it, stopping to pulsate at his entrance, pressing in, but just a bit, back to rubbing, sliding along his perineum to the base of his ball sac, and then back to rubbing across his entrance. He only barely realized that he was raising his pelvis to the cock, widening his stance, anticipating the invasion, as he had done for the guardsmen when he knew they were going to slide into him—almost revealing, to anyone but himself, that he wanted it.

“Such a small body,” Mahir was whispering in his ear. “A small, tight channel, even after the attentions of my soldiers. But mine the largest cock of all, none that you have had, none that you will have will fill you as this one will. Sliding slowly inside you, into your stomach, your walls stretching to the limit—almost beyond the limit—no matter what angle you give it, how far apart you spread your legs and your plump buttocks. And then the start of me moving in and out, in and out, inside you . . .”

Asu moaned deeply. “Master . . . please.”

“Please what, little one?”

“Please.”

Mahir laughed, and then Asu sensed the captain withdrawing from him, moving down on the couch. Strong hands, on each side, lifted Asu’s pelvis with hand holds underneath him, gripping him and raising him between his groin and the tops of his thighs. The sense of warm breath on his swollen hole. The cool touch of a tongue, starting tentatively but gaining in command and demand.

The long sigh. Asu not realizing that it came from him. He had moaned again too, but now he sensed something more. He was sighing. And visions of that cock flooded his mind. Sliding into him, filling him, moving inside him.

“Please,” he weakly murmured, moving his pelvis in almost imperceptible motion back and forth against the tongue.

The pressure of a finger. Moving inside, revolving, finding his prostrate—a feeling of need and of urgency that Asu had never felt before. Both a pleasure and a want that he’d never imagined feeling. A hand encasing his cock, stroking it. Not gently now—fast, hard pulls. Milking him.

“Please!” Asu screamed to the stone ceiling as he exploded again and then collapsed, into an exhausted half sleep.

The dream was sensual, full of pleasure. The man covering him handsome and regal, a crown of golden leaves encircling his brow. His purple silken thawb pulled up to his waist, a golden chain and a swinging medallion around his neck as his torso hovered above Asu. Asu could see one of his own legs running up the man’s torso, the other one being held up and out by a well-manicured hand, heavy with jeweled rings. The man was stroking inside him, but Asu’s pelvis was just as active, counterthrusting, trying to pull the cock in as far as those of the soldiers Asu had known and of the powerful Zeus of a guard captain. Asu’s hands were on the man’s chest underneath his thawb, working the coin-sized, hard nipples. Working the man, working for the pleasure and rewards of the man, but working for Asu’s own pleasure too.

Asu woke, stretched out on his side on the animal skins-covered couch. The captain was stretched behind him, embracing him and gliding his hands on Asu’s body. Asu’s topmost thigh was raised and resting on the closed legs of the beefy soldier chief. The bulb of Mahir’s cock was resting against Asu’s entrance.

“Ah, awake are we, little bird? Pleasant dreams?”

“Umm,” Asu answered, only half awake, but aware that he was moving from imagined pleasure to real pleasure. He turned his face to Mahir’s, who, for the first time in the night, moved his lips to Asu’s, pressed them open with his tongue, and fully possessed Asu’s mouth. Asu groaned for him. Mahir moved a hand to his hard cock and revolved the bulb around the rim of Asu’s hole. Asu groaned more deeply. Mahir raised the knee of his upper leg and placed his foot flat on the surface of the couch. This raised Asu’s leg and turned his pelvis more toward Mahir’s groin. Asu could feel his hole open more—blossoming, throbbing, ready and wanting now for the slide of the cock. So could Mahir. The bulb moved inside, just the bulb, though. Mahir revolved the bulb inside the hole entrance. Then, to the tune of deeper moans from Asu and the heaving of Asu’s belly and the sound of his pants, Mahir pressed the bulb in a bit, then pulled it out. In and out, in and out—still just at the surface. Revolve. The entrance was open, sucking at the bulb.

Asu pulled away from the kiss. “Please!”

“Please what?”

“Please. I beg you. Give me the cock! Put me to the sword.”

“Ah, you beg me now for it, do you? I told you you would, didn’t I? You are realizing that the act can be as much for your pleasure as for the other man’s now, aren’t you? That you can make that happen, control it. I assure you that you have me; that I am desperate to be inside you. The only reason I could hold back is that I knew I was going to cock you, whether or not you asked for it. But I am as much yours at this moment as you are mine. You can seize your destiny rather than shrink from it.”

“Oh, the gods, oh, the gods. Put me to the cock now. I beg you.”

“You may have it now, yes. But to complete your conditioning—and so that you know it is done—you may only have the cock one way. You will ride it yourself.”

Mahir lay on his back, his fists locked behind his head, looking—at least initially, amused and triumphant—as, facing him, Asu straddled his midsection with his knees, his channel—through no little effort—sunk on Mahir’s cock, and rode him in languid motion.

“I . . . I . . . didn’t know,” Asu murmured in a thick, dreamy voice.

Asu’s body was too beautiful and desirable for Mahir to yield control for long, though, and Mahir had held off longer than he would want—certainly longer than he thought he could, although, with this young beauty he did, indeed, have a prize for a king, a toy he could gift the king in exchange for the king’s continued good favor. This was a primary function of the captain of the king’s guard. To condition and provide young, pliable, beautiful male bodies for the king’s bed.

Asu was riding his cock well, leaning back, grabbing his ankles, and rising and falling on the cock by leveraging with his knees and calves. His eyes had a glassy, cum-filled look in them—and, indeed, the ride was cushioned by the cum of several guardsmen—and he was babbling almost incoherently, permitting himself to be lost in the pleasure of the cock now. Mahir had not a shred of doubt that the youth was fully conditioned, fully enjoying what he was getting.

But the scene, the experience, was much too arousing for Mahir too. He could take no more. With a roar, he raised his torso, grabbed Asu by the waist, and called out in a commanding voice, “Give over the cocking to me now. You have done well. Just lay back and enjoy it.”

Dutifully, Asu let his torso relax in a backward arc, his arms dangling at his side, as Mahir began pulling Asu’s channel up and down on his cock, slowly at first, but increasingly faster, deeper, harder.

“Yes, cock me! Put me to the cock me! Cock me!” Asu cried to the stone ceiling.

Harder and harder, faster and faster. Brutally slamming the huge cock inside the small, but accommodating body. Breathing heavily, chanting a war chant, losing all control over this beautiful, young body. Rising to new heights of arousal himself because the little one was dancing the cock now. Crying out for it, writhing and throwing his little body around. The little body taking it hard and deep, sucking it deep inside. Climbing to the heights of the cock, slamming himself down to the depths of it. Spouting out on Mahir’s belly, causing the flood to work its way up from inside Mahir’s balls. This would be a big blow, even for Mahir. He could feel it boiling, rising up from inside him.

* * * *

Asu didn’t make it back to the wine shop until the next afternoon. Mahir could not let him go until both were beyond exhaustion. And Asu sobbed that he didn’t want to go, and was only assuaged when Mahir whispered an assurance in his ear that, when it came to bed partners, what was the king’s was also Mahir’s.

Hatim, after being assured that Asu was fully ready to accept his fate and his position in life now, assigned Asu to a room in the back of the shop and let him sleep and heal for three days.

On the night of the third day, however, a naked Asu was sitting on the cock of an obviously happy and aroused Sargon in the same chair that Asu had wriggled away from him in four nights previously. Without command to do so, Asu was leveraging on the balls of his feet on the floor on either side of Sargon’s lap and was rising and falling on the cock, such as it was—requiring no effort for Asu after the soldier cocks he had recently known. It was all that Sargon could imagine wanting, though. Asu was saying all of the things that Sargon wanted to hear about how wonderful Asu’s sponsor was to him. Sargon was strumming the beautiful young man’s nipples and savoring the victory of his long campaign, having no idea how short the time of his sponsoring and recompense would be. Sargon was alternating the stroke of his hands between Asu’s cock and his nipples—because Asu demanded the attention of him and Sargon was too much the slave of Asu’s channel now not to give the young beauty what he demanded.

Asu’s performance was helped by two factors. He was so soused with free wine provided by Hatim that he didn’t particularly care who was fucking him, as long as there was a pile of cash on the table in front of him—and as he rose and fell on Sargon’s cock, he was looking over to where the soldier Nasri was standing at the end of the bar table and looking at him. Later, after the wine shop closed, Nasri would be taking Asu to Asu’s little room behind the wine shop and would resume teaching him new sexual positions of India that were sure to increase what men were willing to pay for Asu’s body. And in just weeks, the palace, the king—and Mahir. And Nasri had said that the king knew the positions of India better than he did, was more flexible than he, and would give Asu even more pleasure, despite the differences in the cocks, while taking his own, than even Nasri could give him. It was doubtful Nasri actually believed that, but he was as much the king’s man as Captain Mahir was.

The basic training of Asu had been concluded satisfactorily for all.


###

146 Gay Erotic Stories from Habu

Angled Entries 1: Big Balling

Angled Entries 1: Big Balling [Author’s Note: This series follows on from “Dueling Regeneration” of the Philippe LeCroix short story series.] Chas Angle strutted down the stairs of his new plantation house, gathered his extra-long sweat shirt around his waist, climbed onto his cycle, and roared off down the long driveway on his way to the Hornet’s basketball stadium in downtown New Orleans.

Angled Entries: Painted Laddie

When Ms. Elisha came off the stage at the Bourbon Street female impersonators’ club and swished into her dressing room, Chas Angle was waiting for her. The meta hunk had worn a muscle shirt barely covering the superhuman bulges of his torso and a silky pair of shorts that barely held the bulge of his twelve thick inches. So, when he asked her if she’d come pose for him for photos, her quick

Angled Entries: Hard Decisions

Years and then more than a decade went by with nothing much happening in Philippe LeCroix's rotting plantation house on the Mississippi beyond the dust accumulating and the oaken walls drying out and spitting. Chas Angle still held his mentor and tormentor in his bed chamber on the second floor of the mansion, shackled to his bed, and rejuvenating himself only when Chas brought him young men to

At the Reservoir

I take three- to five-mile hikes about twice weekly. I have five nearby nature trails I rotate through (in addition to a few more urban walks). The park I went to recently—at the town's reservoir—has been on the Internet for years as a male pickup spot, although the police seemed to have stopped that a few years ago, I thought—and the pickup spots (the restrooms and an old barn) aren't near where

Azores Assignation

Edgar steadied himself against the bulkhead as the wake of a passing yacht sent his own ship to wallowing and scraping against the dock. He was hunched over the sink in the closely confined space, space being at a premium even in a Latitude 44 such as he’d sailed from Marseilles to the harbor town of Horta on Azores’ Faial Island. He believed that he could find exactly what he wanted here, and

Back Where . . .

I rolled over in the bed, reaching for Esteban, but he wasn’t there, setting off in me a mild zing of irritation. He’d gone to sleep last night while I was fucking him and now he wasn’t there at all in the morning. This brought the decision I had to make back to mind and was, perhaps, yet another nail in the decision—two decisions actually. I had an opportunity to head up the Radio y Televisión

Beautiful Bondage

I had been told that the assignment was a bit kinky, but a weekend stopover in Hawaii and three days on my own in Tokyo, paid for by the generous fee addition, were enough for me not to care. My pimp, Leon, told me to make myself blond all over, which I had grown used to in any assignment sending me to the Orient. And I was a bit intrigued because I was told up front that the client was Matsu

Being Fussy

I was going back from throwing some hoops with the guys one afternoon when I decided to drop in on Charlie and see how he was doing. He was a little high strung and had been having trouble with his latest live in of late. Denny was a real cocky asshole, so sure of himself and going directly for what he wanted—and usually getting it—and taking advantage of everyone along the way. And he was messy.

Bermuda Triangle

“A candidate for the Bermuda Triangle, might you say?” Dean said to Penn across the cocktail table. They were sitting at a window of the Splendor Lounge on the Champion of the Sea mega tourist ship on the first full night of its sail from Baltimore to Bermuda.The two, both members of the ship’s dance troupe were looking over a thirtiesh blond, well-formed, and obviously well-heeled hunk

Beyond the Beaded Curtain

I had been holding up the bar in the smoky lounge for more than a half hour, and Nick hadn’t shown. Felt pretty sorry for myself. That had been my story with my encounters with Nick: fuck ’em and leave ’em. I didn’t really want to play that game anymore, but here I sat, waiting for Nick. I had waved off several guys in obvious search of a pickup when the mystery man appeared at my elbow. As time

Biloxi Renewal

\Ham couldn’t sleep, and he thought he heard a noise from downstairs. Probably only one of the many ghosts haunting this old, rotting mansion, he thought. But, still, he was fully awake now. He rose off the cot he’d set up in his room until after everything was packed out and padded down the stairs into the music room. He was barefoot, only wearing his muslin sleeper pants. In twenty-four hours

Bite of the Schlange

Jacques, the young comte de la Arbois, nearly fell off his horse, both steed and rider trembling from exhaustion, into the arms of the innkeeper of the small village of Saint-Avold, a hard half-day's ride west of Metz. "A fresh horse," Jacques muttered feverishly through swollen lips. "We have such a horse for you," the innkeeper exclaimed. "But you are in no condition to ride on, young

Cast Party

I could not have been in any steamier place or time for my sexual awakening. Bangkok, Thailand, in the eighties was sin city extraordinaire. Anything went there; everything was tolerated. It was a mai bin rai (“nevermind; whatever, it’s OK”) place and everything was not only tolerated, but it also was on offer—and almost always for free or at a very good price. And it was an innocent time. The

Chain Gang Banged

I was only in for thirty days, and then not because of something I’d actually done. My buddy Phil had left drugs in my car, and the cops found them when they stopped me because I was driving a little too fast when I pulled away from a country beer hall they were staking out. I should have known better. I was only nineteen, and I shouldn’t have been in that beer hall at all, let alone drinking.

Chain Gang Banged

I was only in for thirty days, and then not because of something I’d actually done. My buddy Phil had left drugs in my car, and the cops found them when they stopped me because I was driving a little too fast when I pulled away from a country beer hall they were staking out. I should have known better. I was only nineteen, and I shouldn’t have been in that beer hall at all, let alone drinking.

Chaz's Choice

“Are you sure? You don’t have to go through with this.”But, who was I kidding. Julio’s choices had been shut down that first night—the night I’d found him supposedly by chance, but with chance having nothing to do about it. He’d been had even before I approached him at the Noobai Café, the discreet little gay hookup bar in the Restele district of Lisbon, not far from the Cuban consulate.

Cockpitting

After two years in the male-male paradise of Bangkok, a short assignment to Okinawa, Japan, seemed, for most of my tour, like entering a monastery. I was supposed to rotate directly back to the States with my SR71 supersonic photoreconnaissance unit, but the North Koreans were acting up on the DMZ, and the government wanted an intense look-see at whether or not they were building their troop

Congo Drums

The riverboat hit a log, or something, on the hull right at my head, and I woke with a start. The first sensation in the soft, wavering light of a single lantern hung by the doorway was the sound of the drums and low chanting from somewhere above. The driver and cook at it again. The sound was monotonous and comforting all at the same time. It also seemed to be richer than before, almost

Creamy Thighs

Tight, hard and hairless bodies with creamy thighs, resilient flesh on muscles of steel; and flexibility; flexibility is a must. I insist on that; and obedience and total subservience. And I possess them all. I fuck them all, women and men alike. I fuck them all regularly, without showing favor. That’s the only way to keep order. And they stand in line, audition for the privilege of being

Dagger Through the Moon

I am Darien, magician to the D’Ibelins; son of Jared, magician to the D’Ibelins before me; and grandson of Deter, magician to the kings of the Aquitaine. Can anyone deny my powers after the Horns of Hattin? But, no, no one but me knows of what really happened there in miracle of the stronghold of Belvoir. And that, perhaps, is as it should be. But as I glide across the sky, I look at that brand

Dangerous Experiment

[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment.” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe had just been renewed, and he was

Deal Closer, Part 1

As we strapped ourselves in across from each other, knee to knee in the sleek corporate jet, I was wondering why CJ had picked me to fly out to the coast to try to close this business deal. I was pretty new to the company and no where near to having the seniority to be included on this trip. But I wasn’t complaining. A week in California and time to get to know the vice president of sales better

Deal Closer, Part 2

We got into L.A. that night and CJ and I went straight to the hotel. I was exhausted after my in-flight service training. CJ had booked a suite with two separate bedrooms, so I went to my room after dinner, showered, and went straight to bed. I was laying there on the wide bed, on my back, staring at the ceiling and just about asleep, when CJ crept into the room, came up on the bed and sat on my

Deal Closer, Part 3

When I had cleaned up and returned, I found that CJ had wiped himself off with a washcloth that Binggum had conveniently previously located in a bowl on the coffee table and was stuffing and buttoning his sausage back into his red-silk pouch. Binggum was stretched out on full the sofa, another wash cloth lying near him on the floor, probably used with a gentle touch by CJ in the most

Director's Couch

I often did things backwards in life. The old Hollywood adage goes that many a starlet—and we can add many a leading man, now that the cat is out of the closet on that—got their film career break by the audition they did on the director's or producer's couch. In my case, however, I got the part before the director had me taking direction under him on his couch. I had been a child actor on

Do You Trust Me?

Angelo had been so tense through his set at the café this evening, that he was afraid that it could be heard in his voice or in a change in how he coaxed the music out of the strings of his guitar. But those sitting around a smoking and drinking long after the food service had been shut down didn’t seem to have reacted any differently than before, with just those exceptions. Although all of the

Doubling Bets

(Suckered into betting against the double penetration myth) I should have known the sneaky Dutchman had all the angles figured when he suckered us into betting against a myth in the Men Only back room at Cowboy's Bar in Bangkok's Patpong district. He waited until the third revolution of the happy hour clock—when we were all soused and sluggish—and entered with a boy-built Thai. I recognized

Dueling Regeneration

[Author’s Note: This story completes the Philippe LeCroix series, which is best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment.” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe LeCroix, with his new chauffeur,

Egyptian Ram

I was nearing the end of the fourth group lesson on self-defense techniques at the store-front gym under the instruction of a heavily muscled Egyptian wrestler named Anwar, when he took me aside and, after telling me he thought I’d make a natural wrestler, asked me if I’d like to stay after class and have him demonstrate some holds to me. I had admired his massive build—a bodybuilder’s barrel

Eight- and Nine-Inch Drills

Ad placed by Andre (9 slender inches) and Mike (8 thick inches) in the local weekly newspaper: - - - - Power Drills: GBM’s, Strong, hard, silent eight- and nine-inch power drills seek tight BWM or SWM who seeks filled fantasy experience for multiple drill role play says-no-but-wants-yes bottom. Call Mike at 945-6036. - - - - Ad Rob saw instead in the local weekly newspaper and decided

Elementary, Snidely

“But I don’t understand how you can just stand here, out on this beach, and declare that Jason Dunn has run away with his college football offensive team coach and lost his virginity, Doctor Klein. The Dunn’s paid us to find their son, and I very much doubt they will be amused with the elaborate and very offensive story you’ve come up with by way of explanation.” “It’s elementary, Snidely. And

Elusive

I waited until we'd almost reached Miami's airport, but I couldn't leave it here.

Emmet

We live in a university town, my wife and I, and we live in a neighborhood within five blocks of the edge of that university. It’s an affluent neighborhood, built on heavily wooded, well-manicured lots on the side of a ridge, with narrow streets running up and down and twisting here and there. Almost like the country, but a wealthy enclave right in the small city. Quite staid we are. Not ones for

Enticingly Unnaked

“How about I treat you to a drink? You must be thirsty from all that naked time on the platform.”I had just climbed down from the velvet-covered bench on the platform where I’d been posing, in the nude, for the past hour for Chad Simmons’s Savannah College of Art and Design night school art class. I’d barely had time to shrug my white cotton dress shirt over my shoulders. That didn’t stop the

Ernestine

I’m not sure why I went to Club 216 that night. I’d joined months before but had gone only rarely. Joining put me on their e-mail list, though, and I kept seeing announcements go by of their semiannual beauty contest. It didn’t pay much attention to it—or at least I didn’t think I had—but that Saturday night found me there, just a couple of table rows away from the stage. I was by myself at the

Ethiopian Cabin Boy

When I left Bangkok, Thailand, the first time, I originally thought I'd be returning to a world that was almost completely straight and that my days of enjoying a rich and active bi lifestyle were over. My work with the government, with its strong homophobic policies, just didn't seem to leave that avenue safely open to me. And for a couple of years, when I was assigned to Washington, D.C., and

Family Day on the Pool Table

I had always thought that about the only thing you could do on a pool table was play pool, but the Taylor brothers went to great length and depth to teach me otherwise. I’d met the three brothers on the beach at Pataya, Thailand. Their family owned a hotel construction company and was making money hand over fist in throwing up fancy hotels in downtown Bangkok and at the Pataya and Hua Hin

First Threesome

My first, memorable threesome was in that fancy gym in Bangkok where I had recently met who I called my Indian magician, who had seduced and initiated me. And the threesome was orchestrated by that Indian diplomat as well. He had been eyeing a military attaché from the Israeli embassy on the exercise floor—a man pushing his forties, built close to the ground but with long arms, almost simian in

Firsts With An Indian Magician

My first time for a lot of things came within a three-week period. I was a young Air Force pilot, living in Bangkok, Thailand, and flying the SR71 photoreconnaissance airplane. I was as virginal as they came before arriving in Bangkok. Sports through school and Air Force training and heavy workouts pretty much had taken all of my time and energy. I was about as Mom, apple pie, and country first

Friday Nights with Lenny

I stepped back from the sidewalk, hugging my arms close to my sides, and leaned back on the wall at the corner into the alley, raising one leg, knee bent, and my cowboy booted foot flat against the wall. The hole in the sole of that boot was worn clean through and the cold of the wall wasn’t as cold as that of the sidewalk pavement. Besides, it was a good pose for the purpose. While still

Garden District Plunge

[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation,” “Natchez Refreshment,” “Biloxi Renewal,” “Reconnected Recovery,” “Theatrical Revival,” “Sailing Back into Life,” “Harvesting in the Park,” “Garden District Plunge,” “Dangerous Experiment,” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe watched them from the shadows in

Getting . . . Educated, Conclusion

The next day was my next tennis date with Ben. As I had thought and hoped for, after we’d played and I’d beaten him for the first time, I learned that he was in bad condition again and needed help. We both took showers, and he started back for the massage room, but I stopped him, telling him I had found a better place for him to get relief. We hurriedly both put gym shorts and T-shirts on, and I

Getting . . . Educated, Part 1

It was the first month of my graduate school, and it was my turn for the “introductory” evening with my Logic professor, Paul Hollings. When I’d asked someone who’d taken his class the previous year what the proper attire for such an event was, he had just given me a lopsided grin and said, “For a handsome guy like you? I’d suggest very bulky clothes.” He hadn’t elaborated, but I probably

Getting . . . Educated, Part 10

Although I had several white bandana encounters that week in which all a stranger needed to do to get submissive sex from me was to ask for my bandana, none were as strange as the one I had while I was on my way to play tennis with Ben the first time. I was strolling along, racket case under my arm, when a big black limousine, with smoked windows rolled up beside me, the driver’s window rolled

Getting . . . Educated, Part 12

My next team punch event day was more memorable for being the day of the double massage than for my losing a wrestling match and getting fucked. I lost the match, of course. This time to Greg, who was perverse enough to make me swing both my arms and legs over the parallel bars and then got on a bench under me and fucked me first from the front, my ass tipped up and then from the back, my ass

Getting . . . Educated, Part 13

I still felt better about the possibilities of taking control the next evening, which may be why I took that ticket the doped up rocker had given me and attended his concert. His band really was quite good. He had a large crowd in the university’s soccer stadium and it was even filmed for national sale as a video. The rocker who had fucked me had a great, raspy, character-laden voice and he

Getting . . . Educated, Part 14

At my next tennis match with Ben, he allowed as how he wasn’t in nearly the same painfully hard condition that he had been when we’d done the prostate procedure, but he did show a bit too much eagerness to repeat the massage that day if I thought it was advisable. I wanted him at full staff for presentation to the coach, so I asked him if he could hold off until our next practice match, to which

Getting . . . Educated, Part 15

Coach Seeman had told all of the wrestlers that they could come over and use his swimming pool at any time, and I was so sore and strung out later that afternoon that I took him up on the offer. I knew there was a wrestling meet during that time and figured that Seeman and the real wrestlers would be busy with that and that I’d have the pool to myself. I did, in fact, have the pool to myself

Getting . . . Educated, Part 2

I trudged back to the dorm from having been raped by my Logic professor, feeling very down and very sore, hoping that no one would ever learn about my humiliation; angry at the professor, not knowing how I was going to be able to sit in his class in front of him now. Worried about whether and what demands he might make on me for the rest of the semester. I wasn’t that way. I didn’t want to be

Getting . . . Educated, Part 3

I had been sexually assaulted by three men within my first week at school. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I let it go for several days and then, when I was on my way to throw some hoops at the gym, I just snapped and found myself seeking out the dean of men students. I didn’t know if I could get a walk-in appointment with him, but I felt like I needed to talk to someone about

Getting . . . Educated, Part 4

It had been three days since I had been raped four times within two days, and I was hiding out. I had taken a by-week apartment made over from a motel not too far from the campus, dropped the logic class, and kept as low a profile as I could. I’d found the former motel too noisy to study in, so I was camped out in a small overgrown park nearby, where I was studying on an old picnic table. I

Getting . . . Educated, Part 5

I’d had enough of these repeated sexual assaults; being used like this. The next day, I packed my car and headed for home. No more than three miles beyond the campus gate, though, I heard a police siren and was pulled over to the side of the road. I sat in the car, wondering what I had done wrong, as a policeman strutted around and took a look at both license plates, all the time swishing a

Getting . . . Educated, Part 6

Coach Seeman delivered me to Nate’s door, ravished and still in handcuffs, which had been moved so that my arms were in front of me, and with my jeans barely covering me. When Nate answered the door, he was wearing only his briefs. As the dorm counselor, he had an actual one-bedroom apartment, including separate bedroom, a kitchenette, and a bath—which made me wonder why he showered in the common

Getting . . . Educated, Part 7

I stayed with Nate for the next two weeks, taking in my regular classes in the afternoon and spending most of the mornings learning the fundamentals of wrestling from Nate and Greg in a small room off the main wrestling gym while the coach’s regular “Greek Wrestling” class went on in the main wrestling gym. I thought I was getting the hang of it until I was called in for what coach termed one of

Getting . . . Educated, Part 8

Later that afternoon I got my first glimpse of my possible ticket out of this “team punch” hell. I went to class and the professor, who was also my faculty advisor, asked me to come see her in her office after her next class. When I appeared there, she wasn’t alone. A young student was sitting and chatting with her. I took to him immediately. He was perhaps the most handsome youth I’d ever seen;

Getting . . . Educated, Part 9

My next team punch event defeat wasn’t too taxing. I was getting steeled to these attacks on my body. The winner was one of those lean, mean Marines, without an ounce of fat on a very efficient body and a shaved haircut. Not much to brag about in the below-the-belt category, which probably is why I’d seen him hang out with one of the bantam-weight wrestlers, a willowy, but obviously strong,

Getting. . . Educated, Part 11

The exhaustion of and loss of strength from the previous day’s unexpected sex encounters may have accounted for my tennis match the next day, but it’s just as likely that Ben was just a much better tennis player than I was. He agreed to let me try to recoup the loss and set up another match for two days hence. As I had hoped, we were the only ones in the graduate gym shower room when we went in

Gotta Keep This Job

I had been summoned to the medical suite at my office at the end of the Friday dayshift of my second week on the job, and I showed up with a great sense of trepidation. It had been hard finding this job, and I just had to keep it. But I’d scored drugs for a short time when I’d been in college, and I knew this company had a strict drug policy. I hoped that they hadn’t found out about that—or that

Handed On

“I really do worry about you. When did you eat last?”“Please, please, don’t stop,” Marc whimpered between pants. “Finish me, please. Don’t make me wait.”“Now you want it,” the dance master laughed. “We’ll see how badly you want it.”The two young men were lying on a pile of old costumes in the dark corner of the back of the stage behind the wings. The dance master, Patrick Moran, only

Harmony and Dissonance

“Are you sure this is the address?” Lars Krieger asked, as the hotel car stopped in front of a massive, carved-wood, two-panel door in an otherwise blank concrete wall on Bangkok’s Soi 51 Sukhumvit. The road was narrow, almost an alley, it seemed, to the young German engineer, with one, long stuccoed wall running down its full length on each side with doors like this and wider garage doors at

Harvesting In The Park

[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] Philippe had found this one particularly

Highballing

If the CEO of my company hadn’t seen me recently in that gay bar over on 12th and Madison, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to get invited to the executive floor. But Pete Peterson had seen me, and there I was, in his conference room, sitting in a second-row position in the weekly executive meeting. I’d been surprised, but pleasantly so, to see Peterson in the bar. He was one of

Iced

If I didn’t get a good fuck in before tomorrow evening, Tonya and I would be out of the medals for sure. We’d come to the Paris Grand Prix with good hopes of standing on the platform, but my timing was all off in the twists and throws we’d attempted in our practice session tonight, and I knew it was because I was so jittery from not getting my rocks off since we’d been at Skate Canada a couple of

Iced Flip Side

I had had my eye on Aleksey since the skating season began. He was the new partner for Tonya in the ice pairs division, and he was sheer sex on ice. He was all dark, brooding good looks; muscle and power and with curly black hair on his arms and legs and swirling around his pecs and diving in a wide path down into his leotard. He wore his jet black hair long, in a pony tail, with a few strands

Into the Dark

Momma, please. I won’t talk back anymore. Let me out of the closet, Momma. Or turn on a light. You know how scared I am of the dark. Don’t leave me here in the dark, Momma. Please. Please Momma. Momma? Momma?* * * *Brandon leaned over the low, padded cubicle wall and winked at Colleen and told her she was looking mighty fine today. Then, as he turned and moved down the corridor between

Israeli Assault

I'll always remember the Israeli by the image of him standing there at the window of the Oriental Hotel room, the strong Bangkok sun bathing his body in afternoon light—that and by the cockiness with which he took control. The Israeli army officer, a military attaché at his country's embassy in Thailand, had just two weeks earlier been part of my first threesome. He had seen me working out in

Joggered

“Open to me. Open to daddy.” And I spread my legs for him. Before he pushed me back gently onto the thick carpet on the moss covering the little sun-spackled glen, he had me kneel before him and take his beautiful, huge cock into my mouth, where I worked it up to over ten inches of hardness to the sounds of the birds twittering in the trees and the jogger emitting little sighs and moans of

Kasem's Kitchen

If the kitchen of Kasem’s family in the upcountry jungle of Thailand hadn’t burnt to the ground, I possibly never would have found out what the special Bangkok sports massage was all about. Kasem was my masseur at a fancy Bangkok gym, which was open for “men only” a couple of nights a week and which was a major pickup place for prime cuts of male meat. Of course, when I’d started going to the

Last Rodeo

Lattimore stopped at corner of the cookhouse as he was crossing from the main house of his ranch outside Laramie, Wyoming, to the corral to train the quarter horse he’d bought on the last cattle drive to Omaha. He leaned on a fence and watched young Kit chopping wood. The young man was stripped to the waist while he chopped.Bulking up real good, Lattimore thought. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad

Late Night Workout

I had been going to Gabe and Steve’s Gym for a couple of months, and I was quite pleased with the results. I could tell that Gabe and Steve were pleased too, as they’d both been giving me the eye when I was in the shower. I didn’t mind all that much; it was a free world and looks didn’t cost me anything—or so I thought at the time. I knew that Gabe and Steve were a couple, but that didn’t mean

Legend of Cowboy

All sorts of expatriate “characters” gravitated to Bangkok, Thailand, in the seventies and eighties, and none were more colorful than the man known simply as Cowboy. Cowboy was a six-and-a-half foot black American stud, who was said to have been a pro basketball player of some note who had retreated to Bangkok in the face of possible charges for point shaving and racketeering. In Bangkok, Cowboy

Like Father Like Son

As I walked into the city on the main street, Damrak, leading directly from Amsterdam's central train station, I nervously fingered the folded e-mail I'd been carrying tucked in my wallet for the past month and a half. Damrak changed into Rokin, and at the end of canal off the Amstel River, I made a right onto Heiligeweg. I had thought of this possibility on and off for the whole cruise down

Locker Room Revelation

It wasn’t a regular day of practice; only Hank and I had come in, and we’d worked out in the gym after we’d done laps on the field. I could tell he was steamed about something, but I didn’t ask about what. He had finished first, and it looked like I had the locker room to myself when I came in from the gym. I took a quick shower and pulled on my briefs and some baggy shorts and an athletic T, and

Loving Wife

“What’s for dinner? Lamb chops, I hope. You do those so well.”“Of course, if that’s what you want, Ely. If that’s what you want, than that’s what we’ll have.”He’s got no taste buds left, I think. What does he care if it’s lamb, pork, or shit? Note to self—while I try to keep my voice from having the sarcastic edge Ely had complained about of late. Of course we don’t have any lamb chops in

Master of the Boardroom

The reports of the week were winding down, and I looked around the table, only half conscious of what was being reported. The three older guys at the table would take care of all that for me. I was sizing up all of the young and beautiful people I’d stocked the board with. The power to do this was the joy of heading a robust family business; I could stock the board with the pick of the crop, and

Mentoring

Is this the very café table where we sat? Yes, I think it is. In fact, I’m sure it is. It’s as if time has stood still. The café is just as it was nearly thirty years ago—or at least I don’t remember anything as different. It’s hard to believe that as much as London has changed over the last twenty years, Norwich might not have changed at all. Or so it seems. And so I want it to be. I don’t want

Nailed By Obsession

He had become obsessed with me. The party was large and boisterous and our eyes had met across the room and he gave me a brilliant smile. A short time later, he’d sat down beside me with people swirling all around us and had put his hand on my thigh and had given me that brilliant smile again. I tipped my glass to show I needed a refill and glided away from him, not wanting to make a scene. Not

Natchez Refreshment

The cyclist was racing along the top of the Mississippi levee, anxious to get back into Natchez before the rains hit. Sweating profusely in the humidity and under the blazing sun, he had stripped his jersey off and wrapped it around the handlebars of the bike. It was almost dusk now, however, and the storm clouds were rumbling in. He felt chilled and tried to free the jersey from the handlebars

Naval Dilemma

Dutch came first. It was a particularly busy and boisterous night in the Dick Hut, tucked in the back shadows of an alley off the Nuuanu Stream in the heart of Honolulu's red light district. The sign over the door actually said

Neighbor's Hot Tub

My wife was off to see her mother, and for the first time since he’d gotten it, my neighbor, Marty, had invited me for an evening in the hot tub he had put in. His house backed onto my side yard, and he’d done a whole lot of nice renovation on his property since he had moved in. Marty was divorced and probably was in his early fifties, judging from his graying hair, but he had kept himself quite

New Master at Riverbend

Jerome stood just inside the doorway at the shadowed end of the room. He should have just turned and gone down the stairs and out to the carriage to tell Thomas that Master John wasn’t ready to go yet. That’s all Thomas, Master John’s carriage driver, had told him to do. But the shock of what he’d found when he’d entered the house on Decatur Street and been waved to the second door down the hall

New Orleans Rejuvenation

I was there for three nights in the basement strip club on Dauphine Street in the French Quarter, always sitting at the same table. I had picked him out on the first night—a lithe but well-muscled, dark Greek, displaying a mixture of danger and sassiness; much more into what he was doing than any of the other performers. His act was black leather. Studded-leather harness crisscrossing his chest,

No More Evening Shifts

There were four of them who entered the store close to closing time, all muscled punks decked out in black leather. I owned the small convenience store but found myself behind the counter this evening because my regular night clerk called in sick. The hunkiest of the four came up to the counter and puckered his lips and gave me a air kiss. He asked me where Jake, my regular evening clerk, was.

Norwegian Stallion

One of the saddest—and most ironic—casualties of the internecine Greek-Turkish war on Cyprus that divided the island into warring camps three decades ago was the once-famous and elegant Ledra Palace Hotel. The Treaty Room of the Ledra Palace, a hulking stone edifice in the Moorish style, had been the venue where the British secretly committed the crime of slicing up the Arabian Peninsula and

Nuclear Meltdown

It was all happening so fast. I didn’t even have time to feel panic. I just felt a dullness and a foreboding—and a creeping sense of being trapped in a web of some sort. No, more like a cocoon, the sticky thread winding around and around me. Smothering me.“Just a few minutes, Dr. Winthrop, and you can go back to your room. I know this has been a shock to you. We have just a few more questions

On a String in Bangkok

In more recent years I look back on my mid-1970s (and then again early 1980s) Bangkok adventure and just shake my head, wondering what we were thinking we were doing then and how shallow we must have been to be so totally focused on beautiful bodies and the striving for perpetual orgasm.I think that for most of those I played with for two-and-a-half years in the 1970s, the hedonist urges

On The Roof

It was a hot day, and I was out doing my laps in the pool when the roofers arrived. They had started the previous afternoon, just diddling around and getting their supplies where they wanted them. The older of the two was a well-turned-out, chiseled-featured, and solidly built dude, probably in his early forties, with prematurely graying dark hair. He looked like he’d taken real good care of

On The Trail

I had never tried to seduce another guy before, but Dale was just there at the right time and place. We were both runners—he because he was on the college football team and running up and down the Pine Mountain trail helped keep him in shape and I because I wasn’t that long out of college myself and I was doing the best I could to keep my fine form in shape. We had passed each other a couple

Only a Custodian

“And a ten-inch cock.”“You’re shitting us now,” Oliver said.“Yes, I’m shitting you,” Porter answered. “But, really, I would want him to have a nice cock on him.”“Well, high on my list is that he has to be willing to take out the trash without being asked to,” Adrian interjected.“And put the toilet seat down too?” someone asked. They all laughed.“No, thank god,” Adrian answered

Pay-as-You-Go Hitching

I saw him from a good distance away, walking down the highway in the direction I was driving shortly after a big cloverleaf marking the intersection of two major highways. He hardly looked like an experienced hitchhiker, but that was exactly what he seemed to be doing. Not only was hitchhiking illegal on a highway like this, but I also couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a hitchhiker on the

Pianoman

“First the tide rushes in, plants a kiss on the shore . . .”Matt often started a set with something quiet and slow, like “Ebb Tide,” when there was a convention or two in the hotel, like there was today—electricians and bankers. What a combination. Something quiet tended to settle and quiet them down to the point that he could stand it.It wasn’t a question of being a prima donna and

Picking the First Fruit

I think I just might be the best peach picker in Virginia. Well, in Rockingham County at least. And that isn’t just me boasting. That’s what Brother Jeb said all the time I was picking peaches for him. And Mr. Howell said that to me too. More than once he said that. I’ve heard both men say that, in the peach business, it’s getting the first fruit of the season to market before anyone else does

Pirated

I was just about home free with the tasty wench the lads had brought on board for me from Kingston when the attack started. After some mouth play, she hadn’t objected in the least when I’d unlaced her bodice and started giving her ripe melons the attention they deserved. We were entwined together in the window seat of my vessel’s fantail, and, forward lass that she was, she had unbuttoned my

Porn War

The song “Kisses Sweeter than Wine” sprang to my mind, because that was what his kisses were. As far as I could tell in the dimly lit Blue Moon resort hotel room in Las Vegas, he was a young hunk, no older than I was. Most of the men in the room were older, a few probably twice or more my age. None were complete throwaways, but he was prime among them. And he had latched on to me as soon as I’d

Reconnected Recovery

[Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] The young, drunk construction worker

Remembering Miles

I hadn’t seen Cousin Miles for nearly twenty years, and he looked more like it had been thirty. He looked so defeated and withdrawn into himself. And my memories were of a vibrant athlete. He wasn’t really a cousin in the blood-relative sense. Uncle John and Aunt Frieda had adopted both him and his sister, Mandy, because they couldn’t have any of their own. You could have told he wasn’t really

Renewal of Passion

I had been down and just marking time ever since I'd left Beirut three years earlier. I hadn't really been able to write that whole time either; I was just floating on the royalties from my earlier novels, written in the passion of my youth—passion that I just couldn't find in me anymore. Perhaps it was having hit that deadly age of fifty; perhaps passion naturally dissipated from that point.

Rest Stop

We were tooling down the highway in the early evening at a pretty good clip in my BMW Z4 Roadster when Perry started to get frisky. Perry was this hulking blond roommate of mine who also was on the football team, but who was a couple of years older than I was and played first-string tailback. I’d just started college this year and was still warming the bench, although I’d impressed the coach

Resting a Demon

I thought I was going to be sick. His mother asked him to entertain us, to play something for us on the piano, and the pert-butt blond tossed the curl out of his face and flowed over to the piano and started to fill the room with Chopin. I’d had this kid in my craw for a good fifteen years, and all I wanted to do was to slam him to the floor and fuck the stuffing out of him. And that was when he

Ride Em Cowboy

Since the 1930s my extended family has had a remote ranch in a hidden Colorado Rockies valley abutting Medicine Bow National Park south from Laramie, Wyoming. The mountain fasts there—almost alpine in environment—are majestic, but they can be raw and cruel as well. Our family raised cattle there and took timber off the mountainsides in a planned "thinning" harvest pattern that supported a

Rude Awakening

The most wonderful thing a lover has ever done for me was to give me my life. I didn’t understand it at the time, but if he had loved me as I wanted him to—as I begged him to—I would be long dead today. The days of my sexual coming of age in Bangkok, Thailand, during the early eighties were paradise followed by a rude awakening, a realization of how life can come back at you hard that I didn’t

Sacrificed by Curiosity

Doug had been conditioning me for months. We had met at the gym, and several weeks after we’d become regular spotting partners, he revealed to me, almost in an off-hand manner, that he was bisexual and that he actually preferred gay sex. He didn’t come on to me—at least not directly—and I consider myself fairly open-minded, so I continued with our informal spotting arrangements. I also had an

Sacrificed by Curiosity, Part 1

* * * The coven was good enough to dump Doug on the steps of an ER in a cross-town hospital and to drop me off at home with one of the younger men from the group there with me to clean me and the damage to our bedroom up and to provide an alibi for me when the police arrived later that evening. After the police left, I went into the bathroom and ran a steaming bath. I stretched out in the

Sacrificed by Curiosity, Part 2

I had been playing with the brunette’s tits, just as she was playing with mine, and I just got my hands away in time for Doug to take over. He must have been rougher on her tits than I was, because she was yipping and moaning and groaning and bouncing a bit on my skewer, which went to twelve inches under her attention. After a few minutes, he wish boned my legs again so that he could bury meat

Sailing Back into Life

Sailing Back into Life [Author’s Note: When the Philippe Lecroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” "Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] Alphonse waved

Sailors and Flyboys

FlyboysPete swung into the gym with a big grin on his face. “Fleet’s in and I’ve already talked with Javier. His ship will be in early, on Thursday. Says he can get a three-day shore pass. Time for a special weekend.”“I’m game,” Todd answered, but he was looking up at the man spotting him on the bench press and asked, “How about you, Dan?”“Every weekend’s special with you, babe,” Dan

Satin Circus

(Written by request for a satin fetish story by James A.)The music swells and the lights dim under the big tent, as the excitement builds in the audience and the buzzing conversations subside with the rising expectation that something—something special—is about to happen. Strobing lights and laser beams come up, gyrating around on the floor below and under the canopy of the tent above,

Satin Sleigh Ride

Count Gregor Arninov towered over his elegantly dressed host and hostess in the foyer of their winter dacha as his sleigh was being brought around. He was leaning over them and holding the admiral’s wife’s small silk-gloved hand in his appreciably larger satin-clad one while he murmured how wonderful their ball had been and that, yes, he had enjoyed dancing with their daughter immensely. The

Satisfaction Ashram

As I stood outside the entrance to the old British colonial-style Windsor Hotel in Nuwara Eliya, Sri Lanka, in the shadow of Mount Pidurutagala, waiting for someone to take me up to the ashram, I couldn’t believe how far—and how far back in time—I had moved from Teddy’s cabin in the Catskills. From the moment Teddy’s business partner, Mort Whitley, had driven up to the cabin and told me how

Searching for It

Searching for It(Corbin and Ethan both go looking for it on the New York docks)(sounding, fetish, docks, gay male clubs, domination, gay anal, rough sex, daddies, obsession, collections)“Yo, there, buddy. Lookin’ for somethin’? Cause I got somethin’ for you.”Corbin took a good look at the burly man who had materialized from behind a stack of metal barrels beyond where the light

Snaked on Anjajavy Beach

I had both the advantages and curses of being a rock star. I could afford to go anywhere I wanted on the spur of the moment or as the mood hit me, but if a mood hit me that would land me in the tabloids, I’d better be prepared to go to the ends of the earth.The mood had hit me to get the most exotic and total fuck that I could find by the most talented cocksman I could attract. I had been on

Snow Trap

Boyd had been leery of the arrangement from the very beginning, but he hadn’t said anything to his father about it. His father seemed so happy about having found Vic, one of Boyd’s college prep school coaches, two years after Aaron, his former lover, had died. Boyd would much rather it had been anyone other than Vic, someone who Boyd hadn’t known before Aaron died. But, when he was being honest

Snowy, Snowy Nights

In most senses Bran had been invisible at the Hayden saloon the couple of months he’d been there. But as he came out of the back room into the main saloon hall, carrying the bucket of water Levi Yost, the saloon keeper, had told him to use to freshen the bowls in the rooms upstairs, he looked at the tall Christmas tree in the corner. Sadie, Katie, and Faye were busy happily decorating the tree

Solicitous Service

Goran saw the young man standing nervously at the reservations desk and liked what he saw. He was even happy that Serge, the maître d, was pretending not to see the young man, because that meant that Goran, the waiter, could see him to the table—and could make contact of some sort with him on the way there. Goran was one to make an immediate assessment of the playing field and pick out who he

Someday My Prince Will . . .

Last night I dreamt I went to paradise again. I believe we can credit the encounter to Daphne du Maurier. My tour in Cyprus was at an end, but I had hung on for a month, sending my wife back to Washington, D.C., to get the house open up again and everything there back in working order and to guide one of our children into a new university year. I had stayed past my assignment rotation date to

Sweet Sanjay

I heard my name being called out from the midst of the teeming horde pressing in on the barriers after customs in New Delhi’s Indira Gandhi international airport, and a head and arm waving a sign was bouncing up and down over the tumult. The sign the young man was carrying said “Clifford Jenkins” with “New York” written under it. That was me. But I wasn’t being met by anyone that I knew of. The

Swimming Lessons

“I’d like to make an Australian Crawl.” Stan gave a hearty laugh and acknowledged an empty glass up the bar. While he was gone, Keith, in turn, acknowledged that his own beer glass had miraculously filled on its own. He didn’t have much doubt that Stan was trying to get him drunk so that Keith would go in the back room with him. The burly barkeep had been putting the moves on him for some time

Ten Slash Two

I had been jittery and conflicted for the entire two weeks since I’d seen that big black topping a guy at a pool party in Bangkok. I had been bottoming for a Swede in a nearby patio lounge when I looked over and saw this monster cock jack-hammering in out of the other guy—who clearly was in seventh heaven—and I almost melted on the spot. I was conflict, though. Obsessed with desire because the

That One Exception

I have always managed to keep my bisexual world in check and separate from my public straight world by always putting my wife and children first and by committing only to them—that is, possibly, with one notable exception. I had an atypical long-term relationship with an Australian colleague that seemed innocuous at least at the beginning but that has grown stronger over the years—possibly beyond

The Awakening

I guess it may have been because of my mother—and of the strange beliefs my grandmother formed around her. Up until the time my grandmother’s ill health coincided with me being old enough to go to college, I’d been kept in the dark about so many things. I knew that my mother must have done some really, really bad things from the way that my grandmother just tightened up, crossing her arms under

The Caregiver

Perhaps I gave in so easily because Lenny embodied the best of two worlds. First, he was a wonderful, gentle caregiver. He had been coming to my house twice a day for several weeks to take care of my bed-bound grandmother, who was recovering from a broken hip. Second, he was drop-dead gorgeous. All blond Swedish muscle with a shy smile to accompany his sensuous mouth. I’d had a rough week

The Celtic Sonata of Life

I was sitting outside the cottage door, just in my shorts, wondering if the farmer who had rented the rustic Cotswold cottage with the thatched roof and the rose trellis beside the door to me for two weeks had misinterpreted my offer. It hadn’t been in so many words, but I think I had been clear enough in my nonverbal delivery. But maybe not. Maybe signaling here in England was much different

The Clothes Horse

“You’d get half of the bid, plus you’d get to keep the clothes.”I didn’t know that I was all that wild about being auctioned off, but I had to admit that I liked—no, I loved—Zhao Zeng’s clothes. That was what had attracted me to him in the first place. His black satin shirt and trousers were cut so well—and so provocatively—on him that I could hardly keep my eyes off him, even though I’d come

The Commander

“Ahhh, that were very nice,” I said with a deep, satisfied sigh, as I spilled my seed down Des’s chin. We were in the boathouse on the lower lake, here because Des had wanted me to fuck him. But now we’d have to sit and talk for a bit, listening to the racing shells grind against the dock outside in the bit of a squall that had come up over Sandhurst. It would take me a few to recharge.“Cig?”

The Compassionate Reporter

“Lou is chasing another story down, Gavin, and this one doesn’t look like more than a short paragraph in the local news section. So if you’ve got an hour or two, could you check this out? And if you don’t have an hour or two, I’d like to know what you’re doing; what you’re working on now was due on my desk an hour ago.”The city editor handed Gavin a telephone message form.“OK, boss. I’ll

The Cure

I came to slowly, the flashing colored lights taking their time to form in my consciousness and whatever Tony had spiked my drink with slow to let loose of me. I was lying on a bed. I tried to rise, but my hands were cuffed together above me and my legs were cuffed as well to the lower corners of the bed. But the bounds were loose there. I could raise my legs as I wanted, but I couldn’t rise from

The Darling

“I’m going to take you to the Darling tonight.”I froze. I’d been chatting with three other guys on the sectional sofa in the conversation pit, not even aware that the major had reentered the house. I was studiously avoiding thinking of where he was. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been in this conversation group at all. I normally tried to stay well away from these three. The three pansies we had

The Day the Earth Moved

The two construction workers worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning up for the evening around the construction site on the new house on the steep hillside overlooking the pounding surf on the rugged coast below. The two moved together, in fluid motion. They were having a boisterous and obscene conversation of what the two horny hunks planned to do to their girl friends that evening after a

The Netotiator

I wondered what he could tell about me that no one at home or the office—at least I hoped and always had thought—knew. He had introduced himself as Hal when he’d appeared beside me in Business Class and I’d stood from my aisle seat so that he could get over to the window. He’d had a friendly smile, and if I hadn’t been busy during the first two hours over the Atlantic from New York going over the

The Thunderstorm

I fully acknowledge my weakness, but I think Janine has a share in the shattering of my vows to her. I’d only had that one fling back in college—with Phil. But Chet and Phil had had an affair after college, and now Chet was living in the next acreage to ours. Obviously Phil and Chet had talked about me, and Chet knew all about me before he moved here, because he had made quite clear to me that he

The Video List

“It sounds too complicated for you, Matt,” Jason had said. “Getting a list would be the hardest part—impossible, I think. This is a small potatoes town. I think you should just keep it to the street and be happy when it works out. And get a job.”I’ll admit that getting a job was what got the plan rolling. Then getting a list turned out to be one of the easiest parts. The roughest part,

Theatrical Revival

Theatrical Revival [Author’s Note: When the Philippe LeCroix series has been completed, it’s best read in the following order: “New Orleans Rejuvenation” “Natchez Refreshment” “Biloxi Renewal” “Reconnected Recovery” “Theatrical Revival” “Sailing Back into Life” “Harvesting in the Park” “Garden District Plunge” “Dangerous Experiment” “Dueling Regeneration”] The bodybuilder

To Die in Madeira

I closed my lips over Sir Guy’s cock and pushed his foreskin down with them, my tongue going to opening and flicking down into his piss slit as my mouth slowly took more and more of him inside the moist warmth of my mouth cavity. He sighed contentedly and ran his fingers through my hair. He reached up and pulled my cock down to his lips and started returning the compliment.We were half way

Training Asu

“You cannot put it off any longer, my friend. If you do not choose for Asu soon, the priests will take him. The choice will no longer be yours—or Asu’s. He is of age for starting the life chosen for him. He cannot do other than meet his destiny.”“I know that, Sargon, it is just so hard . . .”Baltasar, the wood merchant, was sitting at a table outside of the tea shop in the bazaar, sipping

Trip Money

I had become a regular at the gym on Tuesday nights, and this 40-something businessman named Clint, who was also a regular on that night, and I had gotten to where we regularly spotted each other through our bar bell work. He was in great shape for his age, leaner than I was, but with well-defined, ropy muscles and chiseled square-cut features. I’d been trying to save the money for some time to

Trucker Bait

As I came up from the beach, I saw Carl and Angela on the deck, He had her top off and was stroking her breasts, and she was sitting astride his lap, having made who knows what connection. I knew what they’d be doing for the next couple of hours, which would leave me at loose ends again. I decided to take the initiative. “Hey, Carl,” I yelled out from below the deck sight line. “Would now be

Trunk Of The Car, 1

Trunk of the Car, Part 1 I found I had a carefree weekend on my hands, so I had driven into the small town to answer an ad for a classic Triumph convertible that I might want to add to my collection. But I had been up and down the street several times without finding the address I was looking for. So, I just parked my car and started hunting on foot. I did find the address, but no one seemed

Trunk Of The Car, Part 2

Eric must have enjoyed the polishing job we’d done on the trunk of his Tempest, because when I’d finished shooting off into him, he said, “Well, Peter if you’ll get this beautiful body off mine and stop entertaining the neighbors, perhaps we should go in and shower.” “I want to fuck again. I want you to fuck me,” I said, without moving. “That’s not out of the equation,” Eric said, with a

Trunk Of The Car, Part 3

As we were leaving the shower, Eric took the tube of mentholated lubricant, squeezed out a large glob, and asked Claude to apply it, which Claude was more than happy to do, pushing his hand deep down the back of Eric’s silk shorts and massaging the gel into Eric’s ass as Eric grunted and twitched his butt. “As soon as this does it’s magic,” Eric said. “I want you to have another go at me, Claude.

Trunk Of The Car, Part 4

Sometime later, I was awakened by Eric pressing on my shoulder. I raised my arms to bring him into bed with me, but he shushed me and said in a low voice, “No, not that. We hear something downstairs. Claude’s gone ahead to check it out. He wants us to follow him down. When we got to the first floor, we could see Claude at the back of the house, near a door that went into a workout room. Claude

Trunk Of The Car, Part 5

After hosing ourselves off again and getting back into those silk shorts, Claude suggested we go down to the living room and drink beer and watch a football game on TV. So, down we went. After I tossed off my first beer, I began to feel a little sorry for the dude hanging up in the gym and asked if it would be okay if I went in there and cleaned him up a bit and put some salve on the new hole

Trunk Of The Car, Part 6

When I awoke, the room was dim, and the house seemed very quiet. It had been a great day, but it was time to shower off one last time and hit the road. But first I’d find the guys and see what they were up to. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard some noises from the back of the house and padded into the gym. The pizza guy was still on delivery, I could see. They’d pulled out the

Turkish Delight Times Six

While living on the island of Cyprus, I developed quite a taste for young Turkish men. If you could get a good-looking, well-constructed Turkish guy before he got too far into his forties, you could almost guarantee you'd have something forceful, vigorous, straightforward, and good natured to play with. You also, quite often, would have a guy with a pretty heavy pelt on him. Now, I didn't

Two Men in a Dungeon

The Hulk crouched near the bolted heavy oak door, eyeing Rab, ready to pounce, trying to anticipate where Rab might try to scurry next. The stone-walled chamber wasn’t small, but it wasn’t so large that Rab had much of a chance evading the Hulk much longer. Both men were panting, having played this cat-and-mouse game for several minutes, but Rab was more winded than the Hulk was. No one in his

Wrong Choice

It was the wrong choice of swimwear, and I was headed back to the guest room to rectify that, when the cause of it all stopped me in the hallway. The new owner of our company had invited me to his country place for a weekend to discuss some details of a project we were working on and it turned out there was a pool party included. But, not knowing that, I hadn’t brought my suit. I had assumed this

Zonked

I had literally creamed myself almost nightly for Phil’s body, but Phil was about as straight as they come--and getting all the female tail he could handle if all the talk around campus was true. We were both attending the university on athletic scholarships--Phil on a football and baseball scholarship and me on a wrestling scholarship, wrestling being a good way for me to get down and dirty with

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