A Cumbuck’s Tale, Ch. 06

Please be forewarned that in addition to heavy male/male erotic content, this chapter has scenes of nonconsenusual sex.

Chapter 6 – Everything Changes

They docked at Merath as night fell, throwing lines about the pilings and pulling the barque snug to the dock. After securing the boat, the men scattered with Ralen’s blessing into the city. High on the hill, the iridescent blue towers of the Crescent Palace of the city’s Highborn princes, the Merrydeons, illuminated the night. Cam’s heart never failed to swell with awe at the sight, the building was that high and beautiful. But ethereal beauty did nothing to ease his restless burning or release his mind from the sexual images that fueled his waking dreams. The taste and smell of men . . . the weight of cock upon his tongue, the girth filling his ass . . . his craving seared him to the soul. When he felt Ralen steal up behind him, heard the big Staubaun’s solid tread and glimpsed his shadow cast by a nearby lantern, he turned to him without even trying to hide the desperate need that consumed him.

“Ralen,” he whispered.

The big man’s lips found his and Cam gave himself heatedly to that kiss, gasping as Ralen’s tongue slid forcefully into his open mouth, playing there for a long minute before retreating. The large hand brushed his face. “You really need it now, don’t you, cumbuck?”

“You know I do. I need you so much. I know you’re angry with me, Ralen, but I—”

“I should have given you my cock to suck a day ago, I know. You’re a hungry little rabbit now. You’ll suck any cock, won’t you?”

“What are you talking about? No, not just any. Ralen, don’t—”

Those dark eyes locked on his. “Let’s find out, rabbit. Let’s find some cock for you to suck.”

The Staubaun took hold of Cam’s arm, and Cam flinched, his stomach turning over with dread as the other man dragged him up the plank and onto the dock. The night air, chill and crisp, smelled of wood fires from nearby boats and taverns.

Once on solid planking, Cam pulled free. “No, I won’t suck some stranger! Not that. I’m not a whore.”

“Are you sure?”

Cam stepped back. “I won’t do that.”

Nervously, he looked to the docks. Merath was too busy a port for there not to be people about, prowling the dimly lit piers and the shadows between warehouses. He already knew better than to wander such places alone at night. Always before, he had been with Ralen and even then it had been after or between his cravings. Never when he was like this, in the full grip of his obscene need. Not like now, when his limbs trembled with the jitters.

“Aw, hells, Ralen,” he pleaded. “You want it, too. You know you do. As much as I do, right? Just let me, why don’t you?”

Why was the Staubaun doing this to him? In punishment for all the trouble over Tegwyna? He had heard the struggle the evening before, heard the splash of something heavy tossed over the side. Partas had told him it was Eubuleus. He had not seen the slaver since then and knew better than to ask. What might Ralen want in turn for taking a man’s life?

“You heard me, didn’t you?” Ralen said softly. “You’re not my slave anymore. Maybe I just like fucking slaves.”

“You want a slave? I’ll be a slave.” He would say anything. Right now, he even meant it.

“You want to please me?” Ralen touched his hair, beside his mouth.

“Yes.” Cam pressed his cheek against that hand and closed his eyes. Unable to look upon that unreadable face, he opened his mouth to kiss those fingers, suck them as Ralen slipped them one by one into his mouth. Please, just let me suck your cock . . . let me drink your cum . . . that’s all I need. “Anything. Just let me please you.”

“You’ll please me—by sucking any cock I put in front of you.”

He barely registered that Ralen drew him along the pier, to the wharf where hulking warehouses stood like gape-mouthed giants and rat-like men scurried among shadows cast by yellow lamps. Cam kept his eyes down, aware of steps slowing as they passed, of men looking at him as Ralen ushered him along. He knew why they stared. He was young, half-clothed, good-looking . . . and in need. They saw the fine sheen of perspiration on his skin, the hungry look in his eyes, the way he breathed hard because he was fighting the jitters.

Ralen, please . . .

The Staubaun pulled him into the shadow of some crates stacked high alongside one of the warehouses. From it, they looked past several doorways and into a nearby alleyway. Two of the doorways were already inhabited by furtive figures that stepped out whenever a taller, Staubaun-looking man walked past, then slipped back into the shadows when the man showed no interest. Cam watched even though he did not really want to. One of the figures got a passerby to stop and step into the shadow, then knelt down before him. He saw the Kheld=s face sharply in the light: dark-haired, clean-shaved, still young, open mouth greedily working on a long, pale Staubaun prick. He could almost isveçbahis yeni giriş taste the hot flavor of cock, the surging vessels under the skin, the salty, pungent release . . . Then it was done, the Staubaun simply tucking himself back in and moving on, the Kheld licking his lips and fingers lest he miss an errant drop. Cam turned his face away. As he did, he looked into the alleyway and saw a tall man standing not far away, fingering a big exposed cock, staring at him.

No, Ralen, not this . . . not us!

The man walked forward, his dark cloak billowing with each stride. Cam flinched when Ralen’s hand on him tightened.

“Go away,” Ralen said when the man stopped only steps away from him. He pushed just enough of his cloak aside to show the leather-wrapped hilt of a soldier’s sword. “I found him first.”

Cam breathed a sigh of relief. But the man’s eyes, undaunted, continued to bore into his, drinking of the hunger looking back. “You’re just watching,” he said. He had Staubaun eyes: dark, arrogant and unyielding.

Ralen shrugged. “I want him to see what he’s in for.”

The man’s eyes glowed. “Caught yourself a new one, is he? You did good.” Never taking his gaze from Cam, he bowed to Ralen and backed away.

Bending near Cam’s ear, Ralen whispered, “He’s only the first, rabbit. He could see you are hungry. I sent him away because I disliked his demeanor.”

“Don’t make me—”

“I won’t have to make you, rabbit. You want it. I’m here to protect you. You’ll choose the man. I see a few coming. Would you like a nice, fat merchant? The one in the blue coat looks harmless enough. And his seed would ease you, taste like heaven on your tongue.”

“Please, Ralen, don’t—”

“Shall I get him for you, rabbit? Or make you get him for yourself?”

He would suck the fat merchant, he knew. He would have sucked the first man. If any Staubaun man came to him and bared a ready cock, he would drop to his knees and not think twice about sucking the thing. “Get him for me, then. I’ll suck him,” he whispered, hardly caring anymore, squeezing his eyes tight against the pain of being so in need. “I will because I have to. But it’s only because I can’t have you. It’s you I want, only you.”

The smell of sex invaded his nostrils, filled his brain. His dick had been harder than stone for an hour and his balls hurt like all hells. He needed to suck cock now more than he had ever needed a drink of water, his body so craving the act that he could no more resist it than he could resist drawing breath or an exhausted swimmer resist being carried downstream. He staggered when Ralen pulled him roughly forward, hard against his much taller body as the big man moved deep into the shadows the crates provided and stood with his back to the brick building. He pushed Cam to his knees on the hard gravel. The pebbles bit into his knees.

“Then show me, cumbuck,” Ralen growled. “Show me how much you want it.” He pulled his cloak about them both, obscuring further what they did.

Cam needed no more urging than that to fumble desperately with Ralen’s trouser lacings, releasing the Staubaun man’s swollen cock. The eager organ sprung forth, slapping his cheek, already dripping with juices that he lapped and sucked at with such abandon as to suggest he had no skill at all. He cared nothing for pleasure. It took a minute of such mad feasting before the first effects of Ralen’s pre-cum reached his brain and some part of him remembered that Ralen’s pleasure would lead to his ease. He began to administer to the big, throbbing cock in earnest then, using every skill he knew that might bring Ralen to orgasm quickly. Grasping the hard shaft in his hand, he angled his throat so that he could take him deeply, sucking the sweet smooth glans hungrily until he felt the first thickening of the cum veins within, then sliding that cock deep into his throat, taking all he could.

“That’s it, rabbit,” Ralen urged, his hand holding Cam’s head beneath the heavy wool of the cloak that concealed their activity, “Just like that—”

Cam pulled back just to the plump juicy glans, swirling his tongue expertly over the head, then swallowed him again in one long stroke, using his throat and mouth to draw on the bunching organ. He only peripherally took note of Ralen’s gasps, his grunts of pleasure, as the big man gave three barely controlled thrusts, groaning audibly as his cock released its pure streams. Cam resumed his sucking then, pulling his head back so that he had the end in his lips, his tongue lapping happily and hungrily over the still spurting glans, tasting the treasure even as he swallowed. As he drank from the well, his body eased, his need abating even as he sucked. Never had Staubaun cum tasted so good or so sweet. Ralen, thank you . . . you bastard . . . I needed you so . . .

When he finished, tongue laving the softening head as it retreated from him, he buried his cheek against the musky heat of his lover’s curl-thick groin, inhaling his scent and delicately licking his isveçbahis giriş round firm balls in thanks.

The cloak withdrew, letting light in again and air, letting him remember that the world contained more than Ralen. Crates loomed to his left, a brick building to his right. Looking up, he met his lover’s smiling dark eyes.

“I hate you,” he said. No man hearing those words would have believed them.

Ralen grinned. “No, you don’t. You want to hate me, but you don’t have it in you.”

“Damn you anyway.” Somewhat sated, Cam looked around at the wharf, felt the pebbles now painful beneath his knees. He had not expected to leave the boat and was wearing only loose cotton slacks and deck shoes. He pushed to his feet, well aware of what any man watching was thinking. Just the truth.

“You doubted too quickly. I told you I don’t share,” Ralen said. He flung his great cloak about the youth and pulled him close as they walked back toward the boat.

Cam knew then Ralen felt he’d been punished enough. He was hungry still and the men would be away for hours yet. He didn’t doubt for even a moment that Ralen intended to see that by morning he would be too well-fucked and too exhausted to stir from the cabin.

* * * *

Cam woke from a hard sleep the night Staubaun soldiers took Rahn Rock. Ralen’s band had been three weeks back from Merath, preparing to make another run to Gobba. As the alarms clanged and were then cut short, Ralen ordered him to stay in the high room and then ran out himself, grabbing his sword and leaving Cam half-dressed. Scrounging, the Kheld found his small sword and stood watching the door in terror, waiting for Ralen to return. He first noticed that soldiers had made their way up the cliff when they came in from the garden. The men were Staubaun, probably mercenaries hired by Lords who knew about Ralen’s arming of the Khelds. Caught by surprise, Cam swung desperately but never landed a blow. The soldier he swung at knocked the weapon from his hand. He then fought with every other means at his disposal. He kicked the first man in the balls and threw the chamber pot at the other, buying himself precious seconds. Fleeing to the door, he made his way to the inner passage and was more nimble on the stair. The dark way wound downward, to the cavern where apparently the Staubauns had not yet gone. He had just reached the dank dock when an arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him to a hard stop.

“Well, ain’t this lucky!” a hard voice snarled. Cam recognized Ralen’s load boss, Meuk. “Got me the little cumbuck.”

“Meuk!” Cam croaked desperately, just before the man slammed his head hard against the stone wall.

Cam’s legs collapsed beneath him and he dropped heavily to the wet stone floor. Then he felt only movement, his body being shifted, carried . . . dumped. The familiar sensation of being on water. His head hurt so badly he was sure he would vomit, even wanted to vomit, except that he couldn’t. It was all he could do to gasp air into his lungs, turn his face out of the water that gathered in the bottom of the wooden boat.

He couldn’t say when he knew for sure that he was in a boat. The possibility had occurred to him at various points throughout his misery, as he drifted toward consciousness, then slipped again into haze. He heard screams and sounds of fighting, then nothing. As his consciousness returned, his ears picked up the sound of water slapping wood and owls screeching somewhere far away. From time to time he heard Meuk muttering to himself above the measured dip and pull of a paddle. From that and the feel of the boat, he knew that they were traveling with the current, headed down river. He forced his eyes open and, turning his head, saw a water-pale dawn.

“Awake, boy?” Meuk asked. He was little more than a shadow when Cam lifted his head to look at him.

“Where are we?”

“Damn near the fork of the Geroe now. Thinking now we maybe shook ’em and they won’t be coming after us.”

Cam tried to sit up, only to find that his hands were tied, as were his legs, bound with rope at the ankle and knee. “Hey, Meuk—” he protested, testing those bonds, panic setting in with the futile effort.

“Gotta look out for myself, don’t I?” the grizzled river man said, no hint of malice in his voice. “Couldn’t have you yelling and letting on then, can’t have you throwing yourself out of the boat now.”

“I won’t do that. You think I want to drown? Damn figging big river. You can untie me now, damn it.” By twisting his body and using his elbows, he was able to angle his torso upright—but he remained sitting on the floor of the skiff, his ass soaking in water. He gazed at Meuk in surprise when the man made no move to help him.

“Sorry, lad, but I’m not stupid, see? They damn got Ralen. It’s death or prison for him, and death more likely. But me, I got to live now, don’t I? Me and the clothes on my back won’t go far. But you, boy, are going to help me line my pocket.”

Cam’s bowels went cold. “Don’t say that, isveçbahis güvenilirmi Meuk,” he said. “That’s cruel.”

“Cruel, it is. But maybe not so bad for you. You’re a pretty boy, far prettier than what these wharves usually get. Lords tend to snatch your like. I’ll charge enough and you won’t get scum.”

“Aw, no, Meuk,” he choked, getting sick all over again. “I can’t do it. Ralen stole me, you know, and I just—”

“Save it. Do I look like a man who cares? You’re a fucking cumbuck, aren’t you? Ralen kept you well, pumping your pretty mouth and ass as much as he did, but you’re going to be doing without now. In a few days, see, you’ll be hungry. Seems to me cock is going to start looking real tasty.”

What looked back at him through Meuk’s eyes was the soul of his nightmares. The lascivious knowledge that had driven Penargos to rape him in the first place, to turn him into this . . . thing that Staubauns found so pitiful yet desirable. Knowledge of his own sensual nature, and how it had been twisted so as to make him a slave to Staubaun cocks. And the knowledge, too, driven home by Ralen at Merath, that he could not escape his condition.

* * * *

The first two days, Cam resisted. He refused to eat the fish Meuk caught from the river and pan fried during brief stops on shore. He refused to bathe. He refused to speak or cooperate in any way. Meuk didn’t care. By the third day, Cam felt the need stirring within him, but still hoped it might die away. By the fourth day, he knew it would not, but hoped that he might hide it. He should have known that he could not. Meuk marked his restlessness, the heightened shine of his eyes, the way his tongue moved across his lips. He marked, too, how Cam’s dick stood upright within trousers filthy from days of travel. He availed himself of this last, tying Cam down and washing that rigid prick before sucking off its pent-up juices while Cam, unaroused and helpless, cursed at him in every language he knew. Meuk didn’t care. He was simply tasting the merchandise. He must have liked it, because he came back for more, raping Cam’s ass as the cum-craving boy sobbed face down in the bottom of the waterlogged boat. The act provided no ease at all except to Meuk.

They tied up the next day at Lygge. Cam had been bound hunched over in the boat for so many hours he was cramped and desperate for movement. His entire body ached for release. Filth coated his unwashed skin, he stank and he had begun to itch unbearably. In exchange for a bath and a good meal, he promised Meuk he would not make any trouble. His hunger now was desperate and undifferentiated. His starved gut craved food with the same gnawing pain with which his blood burned for the drippings of Staubaun loins. While grain cake and an apple did not substitute for semen, they did dull the clamoring in his gut. Even that much relief was now worth purchasing. Having removed his clothes for cleaning hours earlier, Meuk threw a filthy blanket over him and hauled him across the wharf toward a jumble of rough buildings. At the crude public bathhouse that served the wharves, Meuk pushed Cam forward so the burly Estol overseer might see him.

“Let me clean ‘im up, that’s all I ask,” Meuk wheedled.

“Can’t do it. He’s a damn stinking Kheld.” Like most cities on the north bank of the Dazun, Lygge forbade Khelds use of public baths.

“For a little clean water and soap, I’ll let you use his mouth. This one knows how to please a man.”

Cam shivered against the rude wood planks while the two men talked. Meuk had spent his dick before they set out but his need was not less for it. He knew he would suck any cock, even this man’s, in desperation.

“I don’t know.”

“Look at him. Get you hard easy, he would.”

The bathman scrutinized him. Cam kept his head down, refusing to meet the man’s eyes. Maybe if he looked wretched enough, or sullen, the man would send them away. But Meuk jerked back the blanket to show him off better. The bathman hesitated. “Well, he’s a good-looking cock-sucker.”

“Young, too. Sucks Lords usually, the likes o’ him.”

“He’s fallen on hard times, if he’s whoring for the likes of you.” The bathman spat into the street. “I’ll get you a private stall so none others’ll see him. He sucks me like he means it and I’ll get you some soap leavings.” He led them—Cam covered by the blanket—to a curtained stall with a stone floor and gutter and a wooden water spout overhead. While Meuk went to stand against the plank wall, Cam let drop the blanket and knelt before the bathman’s exposed, rapidly hardening organ.

The cock was barely that. It was stubby and small, with a fat ugly head. Taking it in his mouth was better than looking at it. His tongue drew in the rubbery member and laved it with feigned interest. It felt false and wrong, a travesty of an activity he had come to enjoy, and the man’s amateurish pumping kept him off his rhythm. A couple times he had to control an impulse to gag. The man did not seem to notice. He grunted with pleasure and wrapped his hands about Cam’s head, holding him the better to plunge his organ deep into his helpless mouth. It became easier then, a simple matter of opening his throat and swallowing and trying to breathe around the man’s pubic rolls as he crushed Cam’s lips and nose hard against his groin.