A Cumbuck's Tale Ch. 08

"Your Lord?"

"We don't disappoint him. Come quietly."

There were such Lords in Dazunor-Rannuli as men never disappointed, such Lords as might command men such as these. Such Lords as always got what they wanted. Mouth dry, his craving already high and knowing he ultimately would go with them, willing or not, Cam went without further struggle. The men, instructing him to walk with his head down, led him from that place. They guided him in many directions, at last carefully down a ladder onto a pier and from there to a boat. Whether he was now on the river or one of Dazunor-Rannuli's canals, he did not know. Cam did not sense that they meant him harm, but their anonymous Lord, a man who would send men to abduct a victim for him, terrified him to the core. He knew they were on the river when he felt the stronger waves of open water. He knew they had reached another boat when he felt the shifting movement of the one he was in, the sounds of lines being dropped. One of the men drew him to his feet, placed his hand on a ladder. Rung by rung, he climbed up until other hands helped him onto the vessel. The boat was tall—a yacht, not a barge—large and moored. There was hardly any sway.

The men led him along a deck, into a structure, down some stairs—not the usual boat rungs, but real steps. They paused, the Staubaun whispering in his ear, "Mind your manners, if you have any," before they led him into a room. Only when they were inside, did they remove the blindfold.

Cam blinked, adjusting to the low pleasant light and his surprising surroundings. The room was rich beyond anything he had ever seen even on land. The wood, the fabrics, even the scent were redolent of luxury. He looked at the only other person in the room besides his two captors, surprised to see a young man nearly Staubaun tall, but surely no more than twenty years in age. Cam stared into the most amazing eyes he had ever seen, dark-lashed and clear, with a silver color that belied otherwise Staubaun golden looks. After receiving a nod from the youth, the two men bowed and then left. So he really was their Lord.

His host walked to the center of the room, where a massive couch waited beneath a ceiling medallion so fine only a master could have carved it. "So you are a cumbuck." The statement, delivered boldly in a darkly toned voice easily as marvelous as the youth's looks, demanded confirmation.

"For what it's worth," Cam provided.

"You don't want to be one?"

"No."

"But it gives you pleasure?"

"Sometimes. I can do without the craving."

"Maybe I can help you with that. What is your name?"

It would be impudent not to answer. "Cam." Feeling bold, he added, "What's yours?"

"You don't need to know that." The response effectively quashed any hope that their mutual youth might make them equals. The shirt the young man wore, dark grey silk so lustrous it could have been fur, whispered of enormous wealth. "I have a proposition for you. There is something I want to do—involving acts I understand you are willing to do. Just this once and never again. But it's very specific, and a little . . . unusual."

Cam tried not to smile at the youth's naiveté. "It all comes down to dick, mouth or ass."

The silver gaze hardened. "That's not what I meant. It's a matter of whose dick, mouth and ass."

"Mine, I figure, and yours."

"Mine, to be sure. But I want to pretend, just for a few hours, that yours belong to another man."

Cam had heard of such things, though he had never done it. He had once listened to another cumbuck tell about a patron who liked to pretend he was being fellated by his own brother. This sounded like a similar thing. He nodded, thinking it would be easy enough, particularly given who was wanting him to do it. He had fucked and been fucked by less comely men than this strikingly handsome youth, whose identity had begun to intrigue him. "Sure. I can do that. Just tell me what to call you."

"Staubaun bastard. Freak. Monster—every foul Kheld name you can think of. I'm not giving you my name. As for me," those perfect lips smiled beneath cold eyes, "I will call you Stefan."

Stefan? The Prince? The King's grandson and now ruler of Dazunor? Cam let that sink in, but there wasn't much to think about. He reckoned the acting was the easy part. Stefan was Kheld, after all. "Then Stefan I will be," he agreed.

"You look a lot like him," the Staubaun youth continued. He walked across the wide room, unfastening the ties of his elegant shirt, removing it. Cam saw at once that his young patron had a fine body: lithe, sculpted and toned although not yet matured fully into adult proportions. He moved like a warrior—or a predator. "You have his build and his hair, and your facial features are remarkably like."

Cam stared at him, amazed by more than his beauty. Did this astounding youth actually know the Prince? "Is that why you chose me?" He began to strip off his own garments, glad for once of the work that kept him fit. It had been a long time, ever since Ralen, that he had felt any desire at all to please or be pleased by a man for himself. His dick had already hardened with appreciation for what he was seeing.

"I didn't choose you. But it may be why they did." The young Lord—for even if he was not pure Staubaun, he was very clearly a Lord—sat down upon that wide couch to remove his boots. Cam, more experienced in the expeditious removal of clothing, finished before he did.

"Am I willing or unwilling?" he asked, clarifying an important point.

"Willing but unwilling. You're a cumbuck, after all, and you want it, but you don't want me."

Cam lowered to his knees before the now undressed youth and smiled. "Maybe I do want you—but I'll pretend that I don't."

For the first time, the young Lord's smile reached his eyes. The expression was powerfully winning. He, too, was agreeing to dissemble. For all his native command and confidence, he was uncertain how to proceed. Cam wanted to relax him. Far from disliking this encounter, he no longer felt in immediate danger.

"Is this your first time?" he asked. Kneeling before the youth, he reached out tentatively toward the young Lord's rapidly stiffening cock. It was a beautiful member, pure rose ivory and as perfect as the rest of him.

The smile grew feral and all the more alluring for that. "You don't need to know that, either—Stefan." Wrapping his right hand in Cam's hair, he pulled him forward, angling his mouth so that their lips met in a kiss. The gesture was raw, intimate. Cam gasped at the power of the young man's sensuality, and that it should strike through his body so precisely, so surely that every nerve ending came to life. Desire swelled within him like music. Whoever you are, Cam thought deliriously, opening his mouth to that delicious exploration, I hope Stefan appreciates how you feel about him! His hand for the first time touched the other youth's cock and he wrapped his fingers around that sculpted summons.

"You bastard," he whispered, as heatedly as he could.

"I always knew you'd want it," the words growled against his lips, his throat as the young mouth moved along the pulsing line of it before the hand in his hair firmed and thrust Cam's face down toward his cock. "Do you want to be a cumbuck, Stefan? You know you do. Suck it."

"Burn in all seven hells, you perverted Staubaun fuck—"

"Just one taste. I want to feel your tongue."

Cam stuck out his tongue just enough to draw it over the plump cock head placed to his lips. A slippery bead of pre-cum coated his tongue's surface.

"I did it. There. Now get away from me with your vile Staubaun cock."

"Not until I've filled your fucking mouth!"

"No!" Though he put up token resistance, Cam mouthed that beautiful cock between gasps. "I'll kill you before I suck you, you mother-humping, whore-sucking shit!"

Cam reviled his Lord lover with all the obscenities he could dredge from his Kheldish soul. Though his feelings jumbled the words, his mind kept up the act until the blessed silence that followed his lips closing in surrender over that perfect cock, the sweet pre-cum drops of which slid like nectar into his very soul. The sounds of his eager slurping and the young Lord's pleasured groans filled the paneled room.

"That's it, Stefan . . . I knew you'd be good at this . . ."

Yes, my Lord, I'm very good at this, better than he would be, Cam rhapsodized. You dream of Stefan—and I'll dream of you. Opening his throat, he took that magnificent cock deep, adoring its thickness and length, his hands caressing the gasping youth's marvelous thighs. Those other hands tightened in his hair, pulling his head down as the young man's loins lifted.

"Gods, Stefan, you really want it!"

The first burst of juice welled powerfully against his tongue before erupting in his mouth. Wanting to please the young Lord, Cam kept him deep and gulped at the flood of semen, only at the last pulling back to catch the final drops, swirling these ecstatically in his mouth. The youth's emission was honey-sweet, musk and spice, like no man he had ever tasted. But it satisfied his craving as only Staubaun cum could. His captors had not cheated him. Smitten and grateful, he indulged himself, licking that still tumescent organ with soft attentiveness as the youth blinked at the ceiling and caught back the breath he had just spent.

"Gods. Now I know what they mean. That was . . . like nothing I've ever felt before."

I am his first man! Cam smiled, if only to himself. He had never to his knowledge decanted a virgin before. It was odd to think they might be the same age and yet he knew so much more. Happy simply to be where he was, doing what he was doing, Cam kept the youth's organ in his mouth and continued licking, doing his best to play the conquered. He was not surprised when but a few minutes later, after an interlude of silence spent entirely for the young man's pleasure, that splendid young cock stiffened anew.

Pulling his mouth from that cock, he looked up at the handsome, pleasure-sated Lord with deliberate, blue-eyed provocation.

"I hate you," he said again. He had noted which words hit closest to the mark.

Those silver eyes bored back into his. Though he sensed the pleasure behind them at his subtle resumption of their game, he also detected an underlying cruelty that, if it ever broke out between them, would end his indulgence and, quite possibly, his life.

The youth's next words smote him like ice.

"I'm going to break you."

This isn't about love, he knew then, for he had seen its kind before. But neither was it, completely, about hate. Cam let himself be pulled, his body dragged upright to the upholstered couch and bent forward over the high, padded end. Nearby stood a stand, the jar on it already open. The youth had thought about how he would do it. Reassured, Cam resumed playing the part, castigating his tormentor one moment and pleading for mercy the next. He delivered cues within his pleas.

"You half-breed Staubaun freak, go fuck yourself!" he railed, struggling lightly until the other youth overpowered him and pinned his limbs. He kept up the protests as the youth smeared lubricant around his asshole, employing pleas to guide him to use the most arousing method. "Please, stop . . . don't put your slimy finger in my Kheld ass, you bastard!" His gasp of pleasure as that finger pushed into him was not feigned.

"Gods, you're tight, Stefan. You're really tight."

"Don't, please!" The finger in his ass felt tender, almost loving, for all the cruelty in its intent. He felt a second finger push at his entrance and begged for it, too. "Oh, no . . . not two! Please, no!" The second finger pushed into him alongside the first, stretching him further. Those fingers moved inside him, exploring his tight, slick channel.

"And you're hot, too. Do you know how hot you are?"

"Please . . . don't make me want it . . . oh, Mother, not like this . . ."

"Like what, Stefan? Like a cumbuck whore?"

"Don't, please . . . damn you, you fucker, you gods' damned Staubaun fucker . . ."

The youth's fingers caressed his captive asshole surely now, opening and relaxing it. He was a quick learner. Cam could barely contain the pleasure he was feeling. That hard young cock rested against his leg like a thick, hot brand.

"Not that spot . . . oh, gods!" The youth had found the chestnut-sized bump within his rectum.

Relishing Cam's response, the youth massaged it again.

"I'm going to cum . . . fuck you! Get your hands off me!"

The youth removed his fingers, and the urge to ejaculate calmed. Cam gasped, strung out between his raging dick and the sweet tension in his ass. He did not have to wait long. The youth was himself impatient.

"You deserve this, Stefan," his tormentor said, positioning himself. "You so deserve this—"

"No, please!" He felt the young Lord bend over him, pressing down on his back, strangely intimate . . . face alongside his head, that dark voice in his ear.

"You really do!"

He was no longer Cam, but Stefan. Stefan the proud . . . Stefan the royal born, the King's grandson . . . Stefan receiving a Staubaun cock in his ass. "Fuck you!" he cried, even as the youth's hard cock pushed into him and he had to force himself to continue to rant and resist, to protest the cock penetrating his begging ass. He made it as tight as he could as the handsome youth forced him open. "You bastard, you fucking, ill-born bastard!"

"You hate this, don't you, you posturing little Kheld? You hate having me inside you."

"Yes, I hate it! God damn you—I hate you, you prick!" But his Kheld dick was pounding with excitement, ready to burst with the pleasure of being so elegantly penetrated, the young Lord's cock sliding hard and sleek in his well-trained ass.

"Liar!" the youth hissed, his strong young body pressing Cam's down even as his cock moved powerfully in his ass. The pace was personal, deliberate . . . meant to punish but also to pleasure. "You love it. This is what you want, what you really want . . . right, Stefan? My cock enjoying your ass?"

Yes. Yes, please. Enjoy my ass. He both loved and hated this aristocratic young man who was taking him by mock force. "No, please . . . you fucking bastard . . . oh, please . . ." Cam no longer knew if he protested or begged. He was feeling too much, was too far in it. Adoring, he opened himself to that pounding, gave himself to it. He had accommodated bigger cocks, but this one owned him as only two others ever had. Penargos. Ralen. Rape and love.

"You can tell me, Stefan. Tell me that you love it."

"Oh, gods . . ."

"Tell me," the voice purred in his ear.

Cam wanted to tell him, with his body, with his very being. Wanted to tell him how good it felt, how perfect, how right. Though he wanted to remain separate, in control, he could no longer deny the ecstasy taking hold of his body, pushing him over the edge. He pushed his ass up and back, begging for that plunging organ as it penetrated his core and impaled him on love's tender blade. "I love it! Gods help me, I love it . . . fuck me, please," he begged, without knowing why, only that he felt it acutely. Felt the desire, the surprise and the sweetness. "Fuck me! Fuck me, gods damn you! Fuck my royal Kheld ass! Use me, you bastard . . . make me yours!"

"That's right, I'm fucking your royal ass, Stefan. The way you really want it, the way it should be—not ruler, but ruled—"

Cam cried out then. . . cried out the way he knew Stefan would, in anguish and shame because his ass was being thoroughly, completely Staubaun-fucked. Pleasure surged through his loins. His dick, captive against the cushions, bunched and thumped against his belly, sending forth spurts of seed to spread in a warm pool beneath his writhing body. The cock pounding him continued to plow his tight, orgasming hole.

"Gods, Stefan! I own you now . . . and you feel so damn good!"

"Oh, Mother . . ." Cam ejaculated a second time, again flooding the upholstery. The damn couch was certainly ruined. "I hate you," he gasped, half meaning it. "I hate you for this—I hate you—"

"I hate you, too." The game must have ended there for him, too, for the young Lord, thrusting hard and deep, groaned with his own ejaculation. Another groan seconds later was followed by a second gush. There might have been a third.

Cam sighed happily, savoring the warmth dissipating through his body. As always following gifts of Staubaun seed, he felt completely sated. The young man, pulling out of his ass, stared at him in amazement and dropped to the floor. That he had enjoyed his play appeared certain.

"I may never do this again," he said, "but I'm glad I did it this once."

I'm glad you did, too. Just looking at the well-satisfied youth who had taken such pleasure in his body was reward enough. He is the most beautiful man I have ever had, in any way. He almost understood now the Staubaun men who so praised and pursued his looks.

The young Lord eventually pushed to his feet and went to a closet, pulling out two soft towels. He directed Cam to a washroom as large and splendid as any the Kheld had ever seen even in the houses of wealthy merchants. That a boat should have such a facility seemed impossible. Cam knew enough to press a lever for water, relieving himself of the humiliation of asking. The water was warm, a rare luxury even on land and he savored the indulgence. He washed down his body in front of a mirror large enough to show his entire torso, yet so fine there was no distortion in any part of that image. He looked like a man well-fucked. It showed in the eyes and tell-tale fullness about the mouth. He also saw his body clearly for the first time in two years and was surprised to see there was now some dark hair on his thighs and how obvious it now was on his belly.

I'm no longer a boy. I'm very much a man. He could not remember it happening and now needed to wonder if he might soon have to remove hair to make his body more appealing.

When he emerged again into the paneled room, he felt a twinge of disappointment to see that his young patron had donned a tunic and loose trousers of soft lustrous grey. Even so casually attired, he looked impeccably royal. For the first time, it occurred to Cam that the youth might actually be royal. Many of the great Houses had dwellings in Dazunor-Rannuli. He went to his small pile of clothing, and began to don the pieces.

"How would you like me to reward you?" the young man asked. He was haughty again, but not unfriendly. "Anything you ask."

"Anything?" Cam dared a grin. The offer was a bold one.

"Anything I agree to do." The smile was real.

Anything. What might a royal youth be able to do? The very thing he could not? It occurred to him to be cautious. Such an offer could be terribly loaded, but so too were the possibilities. Cam drew a breath. "I don't need gold," he said. "I do well enough with my boats, you see. I get by. But—" he swallowed, then jumped ahead with it, "—there is a man—"

"A man?" He had captured the youth's interest, if only the sly, amused edges of it. Something new looked back at him, unreadable. "You want me to kill someone?"

Cam looked up sharply. "No! I—" He caught the youth's look and averted his gaze again at realizing he was being toyed with. This was a very dangerous young man. "He's a Staubaun man. I used to be with him. I—I was told he was dead, or in prison. But I found out. He's in prison, see, and I—" He stumbled over the words.

"You want him out."

He nodded. "Yes. His name is Ralen. I don't know if he has any other name, guess I never bothered to find out. I was an idiot then. He taught me a lot. He was a smuggler on the Dazun, and in Neuberland. A group of Lords in Neuberland, with the help of Merrydn, caught up with him three years ago. He's in prison somewhere in stinking Gobba. They won't tell me where."