tagGay MaleNeophyte

Neophyte

byfunky_quill©

Six cloaked watchmen stood positioned on the outside of the long boat, two at the front, two in the middle and two aft. Each held a small ceremonial drum of stretched hide and wood carved with the sacred symbols of the Masters of the Lake. Orange light from the flaming torches that decorated the long boat illuminated their heavy jaws with beards trimmed neatly in anticipation of the night's coming ritual. Twelve initiates rowed, dressed only in small hide loincloths, their muscular bodies rippled under the sheen of moisture that coated their tanned skin. Each had thin symbolic ropes tied around their upper arms and necks that they had used their own hair to braid.

Having just reached manhood, the twelve initiates had proven themselves in arms and intelligence to be above the other warriors. Tonight they would be inducted by orgy into to the order of Myr. They would be fucked by many for the duration of the night and if proved, one of them could be chosen to become the Masters of the Lake's elite.

An elite warrior had not been chosen for two score years even though the city of Atman had sent their best and most handsome young men every turn of the wheel. Little separated the twelve sent this year in terms of skill and strength from any who had been sent the previous years; their intelligence was equal and their beauty as well. Still, it was hoped that this time the Masters of the Lake would be appeased by at least one of the young men as they had not been in a long time and would break the drought they had cast over the land.

The night was eerily calm and the full moon reflected from the waters of the lake where it peeked from under the blanket of mist that enshrouded it. The six standing stared intently into the night from under their deep hoods, watching for errant rocks or flotsam that might hinder their passage. There were things far darker in the lake and more sinister than drift wood though; things with insatiable appetites that would be stirring from their ancient slumber, called by the beat of the drumming that came from the island in the centre of the lake as well as the small ceremonial drums that kept time for the rowers.

Rhiordan felt each beat on the stretched hide reverberate through his body and stir his loins. He heaved on the oar in his hands and leaned back to strengthen the stroke, his erection strained against the thin cloth tied around his loins. The drum beat again and the rowers leaned forward, their muscles rippled liquidly under their sweat covered skin and Rhiordan let out a soft sigh that almost sounded like a moan. He could not lose control now though, it was not time yet. He glanced up at the watchmen at the back of the boat and saw the Owen on the left, a small smile on his lips as he watched the young man lean back and then push forward. Rhiordan bit back his own smile but made sure he stretched languidly with each pull of the oar so that Owen might better see.

Owen was Rhiordan's master at arms. He had trained the boy to heights never achieved before. Each night he had bedded him as well and Rhiordan had shown him what the scribes had taught and had taken Owen to ecstasy unheard of. He had been deemed to be one of the best over a year ago and in preparation for the night's ritual he had had to abstain from intercourse for a year and a day.

Owen was proud of him and had helped him prepare for the coming ritual. He had painted Rhiordan's face with blue woad and marked his chest with sacred symbols. He had oiled and stretched his passage with his fingers to prepare him for initiation into the ranks of Myr, of which he was an elder himself. It had been hard for them both not to indulge but tonight, the ranks of Myr's warriors would pleasure them and take pleasure from them in return. The past months of abstinence would make the orgy all the more pleasurable for the initiates.

They didn't know who or indeed if any would be chosen by the Master's of the Lake but Rhiordan was determined it would be him. He had worked for this day his entire life, his every thought, his every action had been dedicated to becoming the best he could be at every known preference of the Masters of Lake and then he had worked to excel even past his limits. He had trained relentlessly in arms and had used his beauty to entice the scribes into educating him in the arts of war and strategy so that he might train his mind as well; and they had taught him how to give and receive pleasure as well. He hadn't had to work hard to excel at that.

There was a loud splash to the side of the boat and Rhiordan turned quickly, instinctively, and caught an impression of a long limb or tail roll from the water before disappearing again.

"Keep your eyes straight initiate." Owen said not unkindly. "You'll see the Masters of the Lake soon enough."

Rhiordan smiled and stretched back with the oar. Moments later the boat ground out on the soft sandy bank of the island and the watchers leapt nimbly over the side to haul it from the water.

The shore was lined with the warriors of Myr and they watched eagerly as the initiates stepped from the boat. They eyed the young men who would soon be among them hungrily and Rhiordan was pleased to see quite a few had trained their eyes on him. Even though he was ruggedly handsome he thought he was the least attractive of the twelve and had worried he would be left alone.

In the old days, the initiates were required to run through the ranks of hardened warriors who beat them as they passed. The few who made it through the gauntlet would proceed to the next, more pleasurable stage of initiation. That rule was changed a hundred years earlier by the Masters of the Lake who for reasons known only to them decided that a symbolic gauntlet would please them more. The warrior's of Myr arranged themselves in lines an arm's span wide that stretched from the shore to the inner sanctuary of the island where the ritual would take place. They smiled at the initiates in challenge, bracing themselves for when the young men attempted to run through the gauntlet.

The beat of the drums picked up and quickened Rhiordan's heart. It thundered in his chest and reverberated through his muscles. He didn't wait for the signal to run and he leapt forward, his powerful legs hurtled his lithe body into the ranks of Myr's warriors. Hands reached for him but he dodged and side stepped them, ducked and weaved through the melee of hardened bodies until he saw the cleared sanctum at the end of the man tunnel. He dived through the air to cover the last few feet and rolled when he landed, untouched. Grinning he looked down and saw he had lost his loin cloth and casting a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he saw Owen, standing at the end of the line waving it like a flag. He laughed and the warrior tied it around his arm and then turned, waiting for the next initiate to pass.

When all twelve stood in the sanctum, the warriors of Myr surrounded them in a large circle. One of the elders stepped forward and began the chant that would summon the Masters of the Lake. Another lifted a conch the size of Rhiordan's head to his lips and blew on it long and hard. The warrior's unified voices were almost deafening and the chant they sang washed over the naked initiate's bodies like a physical touch. The elders threw handfuls of sacred herbs onto the braziers and the flames burst into blue smoke that washed over the trembling young warriors and their senses sharpened as the chanting reached its crescendo.

Rhiordan shuddered with excitement, with anticipation of what was to come. The warriors set their wraps aside and stood around them like a wall of man meat, lustfully eyeing the initiate's lithe bodies, their erections. He found Owen among them and smiled. The warrior stroked himself while he looked at Rhiordan. His choice of initiate was clear. He would have to wait for the elite warriors of the Master of the Lake but if none chose Rhiordan, Owen and he could join finally, after their long abstinence.

The twelve elite warriors were seated on a dais set before a sheer rock wall on either side of a vast cave mouth. Owen had told Rhiordan that the Masters of the Lake would emerge from the cave when the orgy started and hopefully they would find one of the initiates pleasing. The chanting reached fever pitch and the elite warriors stood, resplendent with collars of beaten gold around their thick corded necks and swaths of white silk tied around their loins. They smiled and the initiates looked down as was the custom but Rhiordan didn't. He had already decided to do whatever he could to stand out from the beauties beside him. There was nothing between the twelve that would distinguish any of them physically. Rhiordan had to rely on his spirit to catch the eye of the Masters.

The war chief of the elites looked at Rhiordan, bemused, and raised an eyebrow. He walked smoothly toward the young man and even though he must have been centuries old, he looked no older than one of the initiates. The magic that the Masters of the Lake had instilled in their elites made them immortal. He circled around Rhiordan and slid his hands over the young man's body.

"Rhiordan." His voice was deep and mesmerising.

"You know my name?"

"I chose you a year ago from among your peers to stand as one of the twelve today. For a year and a day I have watched you and anticipated this night, when I could fuck you, feel my cock buried in your heat." The war chief murmured in Rhiordan's ear and slid his hands over the initiate's body, along his ribcage and down to his groin until he found hard man flesh.

Rhiordan's body responded instantly and his testicles tightened. It was a great honour to be chosen by the elite war chief first. Perhaps Rhiordan's dream of being chosen to be among them would come true. If he was chosen, he would be at the lowest rank and would serve as the elite's comforter, giving and receiving their pleasure. After that he would rise through the ranks to become immortal himself. He cast a glance at Owen but the warrior was nodding in approval.

Following his gaze the war chief saw Owen. He lifted his hand and motioned him to come forward. "Share him with me." The elite smiled at Owen. "I know you have both waited long to be rejoined this night."

The war chief pulled Rhiordan onto his broad lap and lifted his thighs until the young man's were splayed over his. Owen dropped to his knees between their legs and swallowed Rhiordan's cock into the wet warmth of his mouth. The warrior moaned and arched his neck back while his lover expertly worked his cock. It had been so long...

The war chief lifted Rhiordan effortlessly until the massive, well oiled head of his cock pressed against his anus. Owen sucked a tightened testicle into his mouth and then reached his hands under Rhiordan's splayed thighs to hold his buttocks wide. The war chief's cock was massive and Rhiordan squirmed slightly.

"How many inches do you think you can take tonight Rhiordan?" The war chief kissed the lobe of his ear and traced it with his tongue.

"All of it." Rhiordan growled and tried to force himself down but the elite held him still.

"Patience beautiful one," The war chief shuddered. "I want to make this good for you but I admit I'm finding it hard not to just impale you. How did you both manage to abstain for a whole year?"

"And a day..." Rhiordan said breathlessly.

Owen slid his mouth from Rhiordan's cock so he could speak. "With great difficulty."

He lowered Rhiordan until his puckered anus swallowed the fat tip of the war chief's cock and then he held him still so he could adjust to the thick girth. Rhiordan moaned and Owen ran the tip of his tongue around the stretched skin, his hand stroked the young warrior's cock mercilessly. Rhiordan was beside himself after a year without being touched. His climax coiled in his testicles and the warrior's soft chanting and drum beats vibrated through the sensitive skin of his shaft. More than anything he wanted to be fucked. He tried to force himself down so he could take more of the war chief's cock and the elite allowed him to work his tight body over him.

Rhiordan slid down the hard column a few inches further and rotated his hips slightly. The elite gasped and slid his hands over the warrior's pert buttocks, lifting them apart so he could watch his cock being swallowed. Rhiordan lifted himself slightly and then forced down again to take a few more inches. His skin was burning and stretching around the wide girth but Owen was lapping at where the two were joined, lubricating the elite's shaft and Rhiordan's tight ring of muscle. He rose one more time until only the head of the elites cock was nestled in his tunnel and then he thrust down hard.

He groaned loudly and the war chief shuddered behind him, holding him still until he adjusted. Owen was nuzzling his testicles and stroking his cock. It was too much for Rhiordan. He had to come or explode. Owen swallowed him in his mouth when he felt his penis throb and swell, coaxing him on with his tongue, swirling around his head and licking the slit of his cock until Rhiordan shuddered and climaxed, filling his throat with seed.

The war chief stiffened behind Rhiordan as the young warrior's muscles clenched around him. He flipped him onto his knees and held his hips. "Are you ready Rhiordan?" His voice was thick with desire.

The warrior nodded and lowered his cheek to the warm sand.

"Spread your legs wider, I want to bury myself in your colon." The war chief growled.

Rhiordan opened himself willingly and then the war chief lifted his hips slightly and ploughed his cock deep inside his stretched anus. His balls tightened with desire and his buttocks jiggled each time the huge warrior slapped his hard stomach against them. The war chief angled his thrusts so that his long cock struck Rhiordan's ecstasy button each time he ploughed it into him.

When the young warrior ejaculated again and his body clenched around the war chief like a fist, the elite groaned loud and long and filled Rhiordan with his cum. He pulled his still hard cock –another boon from the Masters of the Lake - from the warrior's tight, slick heat and moved aside for Owen. He closed his mouth over Rhiordan's and kissed him for a long time while Owen fucked his arse with long smooth strokes, revelling in the feeling he had been deprived of for a year – and a day. It didn't take him long to reach climax.

At last the war chief broke the kiss and smiling at Rhiordan's pleasure grimaced face he dragged his thumb over the young warrior's forehead.

"Consider yourself chosen, Rhiordan." The elite said.

"Congratulations Rhiordan." Owen leaned over Rhiordan's shoulder; panting and he kissed him gently. "I better move aside, quite a few are waiting for their turn."

Rhiordan grinned and a number of hard calloused hands slid gently over his back, his buttocks, his thighs, stroking him before Owen had even moved away. Another fat prick slid against his anus and slowly split his cheeks open. A mouth closed over his cock and another throbbing shaft was placed enticingly close to his lips. Rhiordan dragged his tongue over the weeping head and then swallowed it. Over and over he was taken and pleasured until at last, the initiates and the warriors were satisfied at last. He could hardly believe he could come so much in one night.

Perhaps the magic of being chosen had begun to work the instant the war chief had marked him. Rhiordan didn't mind too much either way. He had achieved what he had set out to do. He was now among the elites of the Masters of the Lake and drought had been lifted from the land. Best of all, he didn't have to abstain from Owen any longer and he used the last of his conscious thoughts to spoon his body around the man before sleep embraced them both.

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