tagGay MaleSalt's Quest for Charisma

Salt's Quest for Charisma


Salt Lucius Ulysses Tennery hated his mother, and for many and various reasons—not just because her dark sense of humour had made his teenage years a living hell.

Her vexacious naming of him so traumatised him that, at thirteen, he retreated from reality entirely, gavaunting about the place with a cast of imaginary friends (he was certain 'gavaunt' was a word with this meaning, but could never find any proof for this, eventually coming to believe he must have pulled it from an alternate reality).

A slim, sensitive boy, who drew bullies to himself the way cheap PlayStations drew Black Friday shoppers, Salt retreated into himself at school, utterly failing to learn the social skills school was touted to teach.

As engrossed in his fantasy world as he was, until the age of fourteen, he believed himself to be an untaught wizard, growing his hair long so that he could hide the scar he drew in his mother's lip liner in a jagged fork down his forehead.

It helped that his birthday fell on the 31st October, an arcane date by anyone's measure, and each year as Samhain, (which only he of his year knew to be pronounced 'sah-win', a fact the bullies joyously beat him for softly voicing in class), approached, he felt a dark energy rise inside him. On that night, he would dress himself in black and prowl the streets, convinced this would be the night he finally crossed the boundary to the other side and came into his power.

However, each year he did not cross the boundary between worlds, and he did not come into anything.

Despite this, he was certain that the weather obeyed him, concentrating intensely to shift storms over the town more quickly, or breaking apart clouds on a cool day to let the sun through. In a private place, where no one could see him, he would reach up to the sky, stretching his fingers wide, as if trying to tease apart the sky itself, to tear asunder the thick tufts of vapour above him.

He told no one of his delusions, aware that others would think these things symptoms of an unhinged mind, but as he grew older, his exploration of the dark arts expanded.

Since there were no Ouija boards for sale in his town, he drew one up on a sheet of paper, communicating alone in a darkened room with spirits who invariably answered 'yes' to questions that reflected his fears, and 'no' each time he asked if he would soon cease being a virgin. Disappointed, he concluded that his unscientific board must be laid out incorrectly, and moved onto divination.

He stole tarot cards from a store in the shopping centre and taught himself how to read them. Unfortunately, having no friends, he was forced to tell his cat's fortune, and since the animal spent most of its time out of his sight, it was difficult to know if Mr Fluffy really was experiencing difficulties with his relationships, or if he had recently taken up a new hobby.

Disenchanted with the art of the cards, Salt moved onto runes, casting the stones against himself, desperate to know what his future held.

But each time he cast the smooth pebbles, each decorated with a stark white symbol, the same symbols would cast again and again, telling him his future was bleak and devoid of erotic relationships, with the key cause being his intellect.

As depressing as it was to be told he simply wasn't smart enough to have sex, Salt continued to believe in a supernatural destiny that had yet to manifest itself.

At fifteen, he became convinced he could read people's minds, and what he heard appalled and terrified him. Dark whispers echoed from strangers' minds as they passed, each of them thinking degrading, sexual thoughts that sent him back to his bedroom confused and horny, to practice the art of self-gratification.

By sixteen however, he had come to realise that the dark thoughts were his own, that they echoed the pornography he watched late at night on his father's laptop, which did not have a content lock on it, and the password for which was Passw0rd.

Depressed, he stopped imagining himself a wizard, and wandered the bleak and lustreless world a sad, lonely boy, devoid of any particular abilities, too stupid to have sex.

And so it was that at 11 p.m. at night on his eighteenth birthday, Salt found himself still a virgin, sitting alone in his bedroom in front of his computer, masturbating to Mormon porn.

Downstairs, the bell rang, and Salt jumped. It was not tradition in Sydbourn where he lived, to celebrate Halloween, but he could hear the excited voices of trick-or-treaters drifting up from below.

Salt had no sweets or alcohol to give them, and so he stayed at his computer, his hand clamped around his sweaty gear shift, enjoying the carnal bonding of two Mormon brothers whose ideas on expressing their fraternal affection for each other could best be described as 'flexible'.

At 11.54 p.m., his birth day nearly at an end, Salt heard a thump at the door below.

His parents had left town for the weekend, so he knew it wouldn't be them, and the sporadic stream of trick-or-treaters had finally ceased. Besides, the thump made upon the door had the weight of, not just a grown man, but a tall, angry man, likely with dark and angry eyes.

Salt realised his cock, twice sated this evening already, was rising once more, and wondered how a solid knock at his door could possibly cause such a reaction.

The knock came again, and Salt could not help imagining who the solid and fearsome man at his door might be.

He did up his pants and wiped his hand on some used tissues, and then jogged downstairs to open the door.

He opened the door to find not one, tall, angry man, but three teenagers, all slightly older and taller than himself.

The one who'd knocked was dressed in a black trench coat that reached down to his knees. He had a head of wild, unkempt hair and dark eyes, just as Salt had imagined he would from his intimidating knock. He was over six feet tall, where Salt had only managed to grow to a meagre five foot eight, despite having been at it for eighteen years, and Salt found himself gazing up to meet the older boy's eyes.

Behind him stood another teenager wearing a white muslin shirt over blue jeans, both of which were stained with fake blood, and cut and torn for effect. He had short brown hair and green eyes, and sported a cheerful grin. He was the shorter of the three, and stood only slightly taller than Salt.

The third of their number was a boy with a shaved head, whose restless blue gaze roved over Salt and then away again to search behind him, as if he were concerned evil things may come out of the dark at any moment.

He was dressed in army fatigues, and had a plastic gun slung over his shoulder.

Salt swallowed as he looked up into the intense gaze of the tallest of the three, the one in the trenchcoat.

"Can I help you?" he asked, as the lanky teenager gazed down at him.

"Quite the opposite," said the dark-haired boy. "I hear you have a problem."

Salt blinked at him, wondering what kind of problem he might have that these three random strangers might know about. He didn't recognise them from his school, and didn't attend parties where he might meet people.

"Can we come in?" the stranger asked.

Salt remained confused. At the back of his mind, alarm bells were ringing, and in the hallway, the grandfather clock began to chime the twelve long strokes of midnight.

"Okay," said Salt, quite unsure why he agreed to let them in, but letting them in anyway.

"Thank you."

The three teenagers brushed past him, and he closed the door behind them and stood in the hallway, uncertain. After a moment, he followed them down to the lounge.

"I suppose we should introduce ourselves," said the tall boy. "My name's Brendon." He pointed to the boy with blood on his clothes. "This is Dex, or at least, for tonight. And this,' he gestured to the boy in army fatigues, "Is Clay."

"Short for Claymore," said Clay quickly, as if it was very important this were clarified before any misunderstandings occurred.

"Why Brendon?" Salt asked.

Brendon gave him a slow smile.

"Because 'Kevin' isn't as sexy. But we don't need to talk about that."

Which didn't seem like an explanation to Salt, but it did seem to be all Brendon was offering.

The three surrounded Salt, leaving him looking nervously from one to the next.

"So... why are you here again?" he asked, glancing over his left shoulder at Clay, then over his right shoulder at Dex.

"You called us," said Brendon in a low voice, spreading his hands wide. "You've been searching for us for a long, long time. And now we're here."

"I don't understand," said Salt.

Brendon stepped in close to him, forcing Salt to tilt his head up again to meet his gaze. He stroked long fingers down Salt's face, and Salt shivered.

"For a long time you've walked this world, searching for the thing that makes you special. And now that you've come of age, finally, we can reveal it to you."

Salt felt his pulse quicken. Finally! His people had come for him! He was special after all, and they would soon reveal his talent!

He jumped as Dex and Clay put their hands on his shoulders, and Brendon placed one large hand on top of Salt's head.

"Your ability is not in your head."

Salt nodded under the weight of Brendon's hand, and Brendon slid his hand down Salt's face, down his neck, his fingers brushing over the collar of Salt's t-shirt, until his palm rested against Salt's chest.

"And what makes you special is not your heart."

That made sense. Heart had always been the weakest of the powers, Salt thought. Earth, Wind and Fire were far preferable.

Brendon's hand continued its long travel downwards, and Salt felt an odd prickle in his lower workings as Brendon's tapered fingers slid over the waist of his jeans, and came to rest against his thickening cock.

"It's not in your cock," said Brendon, and kissed Salt's forehead.

Salt stayed frozen like a statue, which was his lot in life it seemed, as Brendon's hand moved around his body to palm his tight, gamer's arse.

Brendon pulled Salt hard against his body. "It's here. Your power's here."

Salt swallowed hard. Being pressed against this boy's body was wakening things in him he hadn't felt since his time earlier in the evening with the Mormons, and perhaps five times a day before that.

Brendon's eyes held a dark intensity that made Salt shudder against him, his cock pressed painfully against the inside of his jeans, aching for release.

Brendon smiled and patted Salt's arse.

"Do you want us to help you unlock your power?"

Salt desperately wanted his power to be unlocked, but he felt suspicious of how these three intended to do that.

"What kind of a power is it?" he asked Brendon.

Brendon put a hand to Salt's face and stroked his cheek, while his other hand kept Salt clamped hard against his body.

"What kind of power would you like it to be?"

Salt had always felt destined for greatness. He felt that if he could just find what made him special, he could be a true leader of men. A hero. Someone others respected and looked up to. To do that, he needed to be compelling. Supernaturally compelling.

"Charisma," he said. "I want my power to be charisma. Super charisma. Uber charisma. A lot of charisma."

Brendon seemed slightly nonplussed by this, but he nodded.

"To unleash your... uber charisma, all you need to do... is lose your virginity."

Salt felt his heart sink. It just seemed unlikely that he would lose his virginity, after all these years of very firmly knowing where it was.

"We can help you," said Brendon, leaning in close. He put his hands either side of Salt's face, tilting it up to face him. "Do you want us to help you?"

Salt could see nothing but Brendon's dark eyes, shadowed by his hair, a mess of dark waves that stuck out whichever way their kink took them.

"If I say 'yes', a pretty girl is not going to appear and fuck me, is she?" said Salt, showing a remarkable grasp of his situation.

Brendon shook his head slowly.

"Then thank you, but no."

To his complete surprise, Brendon, Clay and Dex did not immediately leave.

Brendon paced off a short distance and then spun back to Salt, one arm crossed against his chest, the other supporting his chin.

"You get that we totally want to gay fuck you, right?"

Salt nodded. "I did get that."

Brendon gave him a frustrated sigh. He cocked his head.

"Wait, why a pretty girl?" he moved in closer to Salt once more, with dark, fluid grace. "Do you, or do you not, watch Mormon porn?"

Salt felt his face flush with heat. He didn't know what to say. But it was one thing to watch two Mormons lovingly breed one another, and quite another to have three rigid cocks jammed in his own behind. One after another. While he writhed and moaned under their hands, and while Brendon's cock slid between his lips...

Salt's eyes opened wide as he realised his solid six inches was trying to tear through the fabric of his jeans to meet Brendon face to face.

"How do you know I watch Mormon porn?"

Brendon chuckled, and the sound raised goose bumps on Salt's arms.

"When you were born, you were born the child of a sadist." Brendon paced off a short distance and stared into the upper right hand corner of the room. "She named you Salt, after the taste you should have left in her mouth, but unfortunately left in her vagina instead. And so, you came to be, instead of being digested."

Salt was not at all comfortable with where this was going.

"And like all sadists, she worshipped a dark master."

"Are you sure you're not thinking of Satanists?" asked Salt. "I think sadists are just generally bastards."

Brendon gave him a sharp look, his arched eyebrows lowering over his dark eyes, and Salt fell quiet.

"She worshipped," he said again, "A dark master. And that master demanded a sacrifice."

He looked off into the far left hand corner of the ceiling.

"That sacrifice was you. Your powers."

He turned back to Salt.

"All your life you've been searching, searching for something, something that you could never quite grasp. But you knew it was there. And that something is," Brendon paused for a moment, "your charisma. A strange and," he shook his head with a slight lift of his eyes to the ceiling, "awesome power. And now it's within your grasp. But only if you lose your virginity before the witching hour. Before three a.m."

"How does that—" Salt started to say, but Brendon lay one long finger against his lips.

"Sssh. Don't say any more. We've wasted so much time already. All I need to know is, do you want us to give you your power now? Do you want us to unlock your potential?"

Brendon's dark eyes burned into Salt's bright blue ones. He drank in the boy's round, innocent face, his slim body, fit from all his hours of gaming and a healthy diet of cheese-flavoured Doritos, and the thick bulge in his pants.

Inside Salt, his logical inner voice was being drowned out by the throb of his cock, visions of these three boys doing unto him as the Mormons had done to each other.

"Okay," he said hoarsely. "But please be gentle. I don't really want to be gay fucked, so don't do it too hard."

Brendon smiled. "We will be so gentle. You won't feel a thing."

Salt frowned, thinking that seemed unlikely, but he didn't argue as Brendon moved back and Dex came to stand in front of him. Dex slid Salt's t-shirt over his head, and then dropped to his knees to better remove Salt's pants.

Salt let out a startled yelp and looked down as Dex's mouth slid over his throbbing cock.

"Oh fuck me!" said the surprised teenager, the sensation of having a mouth on his cock after so many years of not having a mouth on his cock, all too much.

"Oh fuuuuccccck meeee!"

There was an eruption somewhere in the region of his equipment, and then his dick was channelling his creamy essence into Dex's mouth.

Dex sucked it all out enthusiastically, while Salt stood there quivering and panting, his heart pounding in his chest. He jumped, startled, as Dex kissed the end of his softening penis, and then stood up.

To Salt's horror and surprise, Dex then put a hand behind his head and kissed him on the mouth.

Having never been kissed before, Salt was unsure what to do. So, as Dex's tongue slid between his lips and explored his mouth, he simply did his best not to throw up from the taste of his own cum being caressed against his tongue by another boy's tongue.

After a short and unpleasant-tasting time, he put his hands against Dex's chest and pushed him away. Dex moved back, a bright grin still on his face. "That was fun."

"Well," said Brendon to Salt, "You're no longer a blowjob virgin. How did that feel?"

Salt had to admit it'd felt pretty amazing. "The best eight seconds of my life," he said. "Thank you. Do I have my charisma now?"

Brendon laughed and laughed and laughed.


Salt jumped as Clay suddenly embraced him from behind, holding him tightly. He could feel the other teenager's face pressed against his naked back, his cheek fever-hot.

"I like you," said Clay, then gave a strangled moan.

"Don't mind him," said Brendon. "He has attachment issues."

"I want to fuck your face," said Clay.

"And he's also really horny," said Brendon. "And he has a point. You can't remain an oral virgin forever."

Salt was fairly certain that he could quite happily remain an oral virgin, and just stick with losing his blowjob virginity repeatedly, but he suspected that was not an option on the table.

"How about we go up to your bedroom?" suggested Brendon.

Well, it was better than standing in the living room naked. Salt led them upstairs.

In his bedroom, Brendon sat Salt on the edge of his bed, while Clay pulled open his pants and started wanking himself. Salt could only watch, confused, as Clay pleasured himself, his face scrunched up in pleasure, moaning softly.

For a time, Brendon folded his arms and examined the room, while Dex took a seat beside Salt and began to caress his upper body, running his rough fingertips over Salt's shoulders, down his arms, across his chest, and down his spine.

"Do you actually want me to suck you?" said Salt to Clay after a while, and Brendon's face lit up.

"What a fantastic idea. Clay, hand off your cock, mate, he's up for it."

Salt wasn't sure that was exactly true, but he didn't argue.

Clay came back to himself, and Salt could tell he'd been a long, long way away.

"He's-going-to-suck-you," Brendon said to Clay, enunciating each word clearly, and Clay finally nodded, and slid his pants and briefs all the way down in one easy movement.

"I like you," he said to Salt again.

Salt let out a sigh.

Clay moved in closer, wagging his cock by its base at Salt.

"Knees or all fours?" Brendon asked Salt.

Salt thought for a moment. All fours meant being on the bed, which was soft, and perhaps, he thought, slightly less humiliating than on his knees on the hard floor.

He climbed onto the bed and turned around, and Clay grabbed a fistful of his hair, and pushed his cock, damp with the sweat of the teenager's palm, and leaking a fat glob of precum, against Salt's lips.

Salt grimaced, and kept his lips pressed together. As much as he wanted to finally achieve his destiny, he wasn't sure he could do this. Clay had a very distinctive manly musk, much like the manly musk Salt's own manhood left on his palm after a wank; the odour strong when he lay with his hand near his face afterwards.

"Come on!" grunted Clay, pushing the swollen tip of his cock hard against Salt's lips, trying to push between them.

Well, thought Salt, it wasn't as if it'd take that long. He could stand to suck a cock for eight seconds, although he sure as The Outer Darkness was not going to swallow anyone's cum.

Report Story

byJasonClearwater© 6 comments/ 21523 views/ 4 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

2 Pages:12

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: