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Chapter 4 — Claimed By A Smuggler Chief
Cam’s heart beat faster when he looked over his shoulder and caught Ralen gazing in his direction. The smuggler’s eyes followed him the way those of a man who owns a watering hole might watch a wild horse he meant to capture. He gave Cam food and solitude and did nothing to scare him. But the man could also be sure his quarry would eventually approach the water, lower its head, and drink. That Ralen liked his looks and wanted to use him sexually, he had known from the first. But Ralen had made clear that he would not take him by force the way Penargos had. He was waiting until Cam had no choice but to turn to him.
Like now, with his body on the verge of shaking like he had the chills, only it wasn’t cold at all. And how just being near Ralen was torture because he could smell the cum in him, so that thoughts of Ralen invaded his dreams—only it wasn’t Ralen he dreamed about, but Penargos and how that big cock had filled his mouth with the sweetest juices in the world.
Damn cold bastard, like that makes him any better—making me want cum, then making me want him. Part of the reason he had resisted so long was just because of that. If I had a knife, I’d skewer him proper, and let his fucking men skewer me after. Except that Ralen’s men, being a hard lot, probably wouldn’t kill him. They would just use him themselves, much as they pleased, after which fun they would sell his ass to some Lord, a prospect hardly much better. He had seen what they were like.
Cam guessed enough to know he was now a commodity of sorts, and it was through that hard knowledge he evaluated his abductor anew. He’s not the worst of them. Ralen’s not a fine citizen, but he’s honest in his way. He’s not even bad-looking for his age, just a bit rough, and at least he’s clean.
Cam blushed as he realized he was thinking about his captor’s body. He had done that a lot of late, watching Ralen on the boat, admiring the powerful swing of the man’s solid torso, the confident stride and strong arms. And Ralen’s hard handsome mouth drew him, too, always inviting . . . something. Damn Staubauns. They were so sure of themselves. Feeling Ralen’s eyes still upon him, he walked away, leaving the terrace for a more private place.
His steps took him toward the grotto. The stone path led to a glade entirely enclosed by a steep ravine of waterfalls and vines clambering down dark wet stone walls that ended at a deep pool beside which autumn orchids bloomed. The water probably flowed to the river through underground passageways, but there was no real telling. Cam liked the place because it was secluded and pretty, and also because Ralen’s men never went there. Only Ralen. He was not terribly surprised to hear those firm steps coming down the stone stairs hard on the heels of his own. Not terribly surprised to see Ralen walk toward him. The man plagued him with his presence.
Cam stared at him. Ralen’s face, scarred and lived in, broken-nosed, at least was familiar. And the desire there, unspoken but hot and near the surface, lured him as brightly as flame lured any man lost in the dark.
“I need it, you bastard,” he whispered, stepping toward him, drawn in a way he had never been drawn before.
Ralen gently touched his face, guided his mouth. Cam gasped as their lips met. Ralen’s mouth tasted of whiskey, of danger. The man’s tongue moved against his, exploring, inviting. The hunger with which Ralen greeted his overture, celebrating the moment, convinced him. This man, who had harmed him so much, now offered the means to relieve his torment.
“Let me . . . I need to . . . oh, Goddess,” he whispered against those stern, insistent lips that his own welcomed so hungrily. “You know what I want, Ralen.”
“I do. But you have to say it.”
Cam hated him as much as he wanted him. “Let me suck your cum.”
“You really need it, don’t you, rabbit?”
“Yes, just let me.”
Ralen pulled him over to the nearest large tree, a great oak probably as old as the island itself, and leaned back against it. His large, rough hands unlaced his rustic trousers. He was powerfully Staubaun, tall and solidly built, hard and fit. He was also aroused, fully erect after days of waiting for this petition. Cam’s breathing quickened as he looked upon the sight of the golden-haired man, his hard body patiently offering an engorged, towering cock. The sight resonated to his core. Knowing what to do, he slid to his knees before that offering and took it in his hands, then his mouth.
He had never held a Staubaun cock before, only his own, smaller dick. Ralen’s male member was heavy and thick, so hard Cam felt as though he gripped a rod of silk-sheathed bone. Its heat amazed him. So did the shape of it, like a triple tower of sinew crowned by a perfect, flaring head. He felt right then that he had never seen anything so perfect or more beautiful. He kissed it, tasting Ralen’s clean, musky maleness, canlı bahis the silken heat of the cock’s fine-grained skin. He let his mouth drift downward to Ralen’s dense golden curls, at once soft and stiff, intoxicating with musk. Not yet prepared to lick the man’s balls, he began to lick that enthralling shaft of flesh from base to tip. So long and thick, near-bursting with juices. Running his tongue around the tip, he teased back the foreskin and tasted the first heady drops that presaged his satisfaction. The sweetness of those drops intensified his craving and he lapped at Ralen’s cock head, cleaning every drop that emerged. Wanting more, he wrapped his lips about the head. Ralen moaned with pleasure.
“That’s good, little cumbuck,” he murmured, “I won’t last long.”
Cam moaned with pleasure of his own as Ralen’s rough fingers curled in his hair, holding his head. Feeling Ralen’s swollen cum-vessels with his tongue, he sucked harder, taking more of that marvelous cock into his mouth. Give me your seed, he silently yearned, ashamed to be sucking cock but loving it, too. His tongue stroked the length of it. I need it. Give me Staubaun seed . . . He lapped the underside, pulling back to swirl his tongue hungrily over the engorged head, then sucking deep down the shaft again. A steady stream of clear, musky-sweet pre-cum presaged the bounty to come. Don’t hold it from me . . . please give me cum . . .
“My rabbit . . . my pretty rabbit . . . nibble away, my beauty . . . little cumbuck, gods! Gods!” Ralen thrust his cock deep into Cam’s working mouth, his cock head finding the open back of his throat.
Willing his body to obey, Cam took Ralen’s cock deep, his muscles swallowing, milking the creamy juices he so craved. Penargos had taught him that much, at least. Cam kept his mouth hard on that shaft as it jerked and released. Ralen’s cum was less bitter than Penargos’ semen, richer and even more copious. Cam swallowed and sucked every drop until at last the softening cock slipped from his mouth. Already he felt his body absorbing what it needed, as Ralen had told him it would. His jitters and wild craving eased. Ralen’s look was warm with more than satiety. Now it was he who dropped to his knees, took Cam’s head in his hands, and kissed him again. Before Cam realized what was happening, he was on his back, vines and flowers crushed where he lay, with Ralen above him.
* * * *
Ralen had needed only to wait. Waiting was difficult mostly because his desire to possess his prize burned hotter than his patience. He had known the boy’s body would eventually subvert his mind, and that Cam would be compelled to relieve his urgency by seeking a source of Staubaun seed. Although he had offered the boy the anonymous shame of sucking seed at some Fence, he’d hoped the youth would turn to him instead. He was readily available and had proven himself, however roughly, to be the youth’s protector. Though he would have preferred for this appealing, sexual creature to desire him, he found nothing wrong with being the beneficiary of Penargos’ fuck-taming the boy. Sensing the right moment, he had followed Cam to the grotto.
How beautiful he is! His fondness for the youth’s looks, conceived that first night at the Fence in Omadawn, had only grown stronger. The black, just slightly curling hair glowed like midnight silk against smooth, sun-brushed skin. Cam’s expressive, softly-colored mouth, just slightly wide, promised delight. It had been sheer ecstasy to kiss that mouth, to taste Cam’s surprised, tentative heat, the delicious moment when the youth had returned some of that ardor. There was passion in this Kheld, an inescapable capacity to experience pleasure that made him perfect for love, even beyond the surface need that left his mouth hungry, sucking at Ralen’s Staubaun body and scent. Thrilled by that need which he had watched being implanted, Ralen had exposed his cock and offered it to the boy’s craving.
Rape by Penargos had done nothing to make Cam experienced, but the boy owned a natural oral talent for pleasure and an intuitive understanding of how to please a man’s organ. Ralen had not lasted nearly as long as he would have liked.
With a little training, this sweet-mouthed cumbuck could grace a Denizen’s palace! he thought deliriously, for he well understood the value of every commodity, including that of Kheld boys fuck-tamed for the secret Staubaun slave trade. It pleased him to know that he had gained such a boy for himself.
Cam sucked every drop of Ralen’s voluminous cum. Staubauns produced massive amounts of semen, requiring frequent release, but for well over a week Ralen had denied himself other outlets. The boy was worth the saving of it. Yes, little cumbuck . . . drink . . . enjoy . . . and remember there is more waiting for you whenever you need it.
But there was more pleasure to be had, much more, and he knew the ways to get to that nirvana. Pushing the sated, surprised boy back onto the moss and bahis siteleri vines, Ralen proceeded to kiss him, tasting his own salty musk on Cam’s lips and residing in the gasping recesses of his yielding mouth.
“My turn, rabbit,” he growled. “I may not need Kheld cream the way you need mine, but I like the taste—and you have a hard dick that needs draining.”
“Oh, gods . . . Ralen . . .”
Few moments are sweeter than that of hearing one’s own name upon a lover’s lips. Grinning, Ralen understood the surrender implicit in Cam’s use of his name at such a moment . . . the longing . . . the consent. He lifted the youth’s tunic above the tent-like protrusion of his loose trousers, loosened those and pulled them over his hips. Cam’s juicy young dick stood above his loins like an eager horn, hard and ready.
Ralen made it good for him. He showed the boy what it was to have his dick adored, his body pleasured. Cam had serviced and been serviced, and he had been raped, but he had not been driven wild with pleasure—and he had not been desired. There was desire on Ralen’s lips, hard and stern but sure of that which they possessed. Desire moved his hands in stroking Cam’s trembling body. Desire moved him to suckle the boy’s lovely bronze nipples and trace a hot wet path down his arching belly to the musky curls of his loins. Desire put his mouth on Cam’s swollen member and moved his tongue, the delicate edges of his teeth, the firm rhythmic sucking of his throat that drew out the boy’s sweet rutting core until Cam was humping and moaning, Ralen’s arms embracing his hips, holding him as the boy bucked in his imprisoning arms and mouth.
“I’m cumming, Ralen! I’m cumming . . . oh, gods . . .”
The boy’s cum tasted faintly of cherries, the earthy flavors of those fruits and grains Ralen had been feeding him. There were ways to make Kheld cum sweet, and Ralen knew them all. He kept Cam’s dick in his mouth and continued to lick the occasional swell of drops that emerged from the softening organ. Cam lay gasping and stunned, his body gradually coming back to normal.
Ralen let the boy’s wet dick slip from his mouth and moved over him again, looking warmly down upon Cam’s sexually satisfied face. “You’re mine now, rabbit. My cumbuck. My suck boy. And I don’t share.”
Cam’s blue eyes fastened upon him gratefully. “I’m glad.” Beyond that, of course, there was confusion—shame mixed with pleasure, accomplishment with uncertainty—at what he had done. He had never thought of himself as a boy who liked men. And now he belonged to a man who most definitely liked them. A man about whom his feelings had to be enormously conflicted.
In time, Ralen thought, he’d sort it out. For him, it didn’t matter. Fuck-tamed Kheld boys always gave him what he needed.
* * * *
“I thought all Staubauns were Lords, or nearly,” Cam said to him a few days later. They rode on one of Ralen’s barges, heading upriver. Two men stood openly at the prow, but other men hid, well-armed, near the stern and among the crates of cargo. A broad lugsail billowed with a stiff westerly wind. “So why are you a smuggler?”
“A low life, not a high life, you mean,” Ralen asked.
Ralen nodded. The question was a fair one. “Khelds, they think all Staubaun men are Lords and the women Ladies. That’s not how it is. We’re a high breed, true, but not equally. I am a Lord’s bastard, sired on a well-born girl. I never knew either of my parents. The bastard sons of well-born daughters aren’t raised in noble houses alongside legitimate kin. They’re given to servants to raise, then given to soldiers. I was raised by a soldier to be a soldier.”
“Hard life?” For days now, Cam had found Ralen interesting.
“A few battles. Liked fighting but not the King’s army, so I left for the frontier, fought Khelds for the Neuberland Lords. I was with Ral later when he took Gignastha, but I didn’t like the slaughter. Khelds aren’t a bad folk, just need better leaders. I got to know the language, see, so I could work both sides. There’s gold in it.”
“So that’s it? Gold?”
Ralen grinned. “Gold, and boys like you.”
Cam blushed. It had been three days since he had surrendered so whorishly to Ralen on the island. It didn’t help that he was beginning to crave cum again. I’m a cocksucker now, a freaking wog, a cumbuck like he calls me. I need to suck Staubaun cock whether I like it or not. Trouble was he had liked it, a little anyway, when he was sucking Ralen’s. It had seemed so right, somehow, to want a man that much and be wanted back. Sometimes, like now, he sensed that Ralen knew.
“Come here,” Ralen said, indicating the deck at his feet.
Cam stiffened, but when Ralen indicated again, more sternly, he obeyed. He sank to the deck and sat beside the man’s legs, dreading what might follow. He felt an almost irresistible need to suck cock.
“You want it, don’t you?” the Staubaun asked. He was threading some rope through a bahis şirketleri pulley, adjusting the tension in the line. He looked down at Cam’s white face and nodded. “I can tell, you know. But I won’t feed you, not on the water. Won’t take for myself what my men can’t have, too. Besides, you’re not likely to run off, are you, if you’re craving cum and you’re not in Staubaun lands? Not when you have me ready to give it to you soon as we get back.”
At least he now knew when he would get it.
They met with the Kheld rebels offshore of some shoals. The outlaws came out on rafts, just a few of them at first. Furtive, small dark men, they looked at the swords, counted what they wanted. They then left two men, two others going back to fetch the gold. Those men returned with more Khelds, but there was no more than a momentary thought of danger. Ralen was known to them to be trustworthy, and they wanted the swords. Cam had heard that there were Kheld rebels in Neuberland, though he had never seen any, not in Omadawn. The King’s grandson, Stefan, was said to be quietly supporting them—and the Sordani were supporting the other side, so of course they would not want their good swords getting to Kheld hands. Ralen provided a useful service to the Khelds, that way. He also sold the rebels a few boxes of hollow glass balls with beakgum stoppers and some jars of volatile liquid to make flamers. In addition to the gold, the smugglers took on supplies, including several kegs of good Kheld ale and a few more of hard aged bran.
On the way back down river, Ralen’s expert boatmen poled the river’s black waters and kept watch, for they did not wish to light lanterns or otherwise let it be known the barge was there. They did break open one of the kegs of bran, drawing cups and drinking. Cam accepted a cup when offered it and amused Ralen and his men alike when he nearly spit out the first mouthful. It was not that the brew tasted bad, but that it was so strong it burned his mouth. It took a few more tries before he learned the proper way to drink it. By morning, they reached the island again and glided in the darkness of pre-dawn into the watery cavern. More of Ralen’s men awaited them, happy to unload the barge.
Ralen led Cam up the stone passage into the fort and to the high bedchamber. Cam felt his dick grow hard even before the door closed with finality behind them. Shaking slightly with anticipation, he stripped from his clothing. It was pure silver morning when Ralen kissed him fiercely, and he ardently kissed back, astonished by his body’s response.
“Gods, Cam, you would bring a Lord to ruin,” Ralen murmured, looking deep in his eyes. “That first night I saw you, I knew it was but a matter of time. Taking you was like plucking a big, ripe plum. A man has only to bite into it to drink its sweet juices. Giving you to Penargos was perfect.”
“Not him, Ralen. No—” but he moaned again as those strong lips seized his.
“He showed me what a horny little cumbuck you truly are. Admit it, you cannot forget that big cock in your ass.”
“Ralen, please.” But his dick was hard as a rock as the pirate’s fingers wrapped round it and squeezed, milking drops of pleasure with expert strokes. He looked at Ralen desperately. “I want your cum, you know I do. You promised you would give it to me.”
“That’s right. I am going to give it to you.”
Ralen pulled at his leather breeches and jerkin, removing both items. The smuggler was about forty years of age, with a soldier’s hard body and the beautiful fair skin of his race. He had hair only on his head and at his groin, and nowhere else, showing a torso ridged with muscle. His cock rose like a tower, bulbous-tipped and marvelous. Cam wanted to suck it dry. But when he tried to sink to his knees, Ralen pushed him instead to the floor, on his back.
Even on his knees, Ralen loomed over him. Before Cam could react, Ralen had pushed his legs up and, wedging his broad shoulders under Cam’s knees, forced his legs open and back, pinning him. The Staubuan moved forward until his cock slid hard against Cam’s erect dick.
“This is how I want you,” Ralen growled. A feral smile curved his lips as the early sun painted his blond hair with streaks of gold.
“Ralen, no . . . please, not like this!”
“You want cum, don’t you? You need it.”
He did. He wanted it badly. He needed cum, and Ralen knew it. But he couldn’t forget that night, would never forget it. Just the feel of Ralen’s powerful cock sliding against his, the man poised between his spread legs, caused him to remember the horror of Penargos leaning over him, kissing his mouth as that brutal, ramming cock filled Cam’s ass with pain. Pain followed by cum, then numbing, helpless pleasure . . .
“Yes, but not that way. Ralen, please—”
“You need it in your ass.”
“No, Ralen, please—” he pleaded. “Not my ass! It hurts too much!”
“Shhh, baby, shhh.” Ralen soothed him. He pushed the wet, cum-dripping tip of his cock against Cam’s exposed, neatly puckered asshole. “I’m going to insist, but I’ll make it good.” Using his fingertip, he smeared his generous juices around the tightly closed orifice.
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