Shelter from the Storm Pt. 02

I nodded, my eyes running over him, remembering his and Sam's toned, tough bodies.

"And then," James continued, "there are the boys."

Involuntarily I felt myself shiver.

"The boys are like you, Aston. Most of them are between eighteen and twenty-five. They keep fit, of course, but they're all smaller, softer ... weaker." He didn't make it sound like a bad thing.

"The boys never leave the fortress. They help to grow the food, but they never do the dangerous work that the men do. They serve the meals at dinners, they fetch and carry, and they do all the easy little tasks that need doing. But that's not why we keep them, of course -- and anyway it takes barely any time. Most of the boys are free from work most of their days. They get to live here in comfort ... so long as they do as they're told, of course."

He shot me a wicked grin, and my stomach churned.

"You see, Aston, boys in this community exist for one purpose, and one purpose only. They have no say in our community and no choice in what we do. We own the boys here, Aston. We own them just like we own the grapes on the vine. We keep a good stable of cute little slave-boys, and we all have our way with them -- as much as we want, whenever we want. It's the way life is meant to be: dominant men taking what they want, and submissive little boys to serve their cocks."

My pulse was racing. I swallowed, hard. A dirty, nervous energy was dancing in my tummy.

James put down his knife and fork. "But you know what, Aston," he said. "There's not much point in me telling you what life here is like. Much, much better for you to see it for yourself."

My stomach lurched. James was standing up. "Come on, you peachy little boy-slut. I'm going to give you a tour."

My heart pounding, my whole being filled with nerves, I stood up. Smirking, James walked to the door, opened it, and turned to look back at me. I hesitated. I was suddenly feeling much, much more naked in nothing but the little pink shorts.

But James was waiting. So I swallowed my nerves, and followed him out of the room.

He led me along the stone corridor, past a series of other doors just like his. "These are all men's quarters," he commented. "Every one of the big boys gets a good-sized, well-furnished set of rooms, just like mine. There are others on the other side of the fortress."

"What are the little boys' rooms like?" I asked.

James chuckled. "Little boys' rooms? Aston, you've got a lot to learn."

"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling even more wide-eyed and clueless.

James grinned at me. "There's a communal sleeping space for the little boys to curl up in if they need it. There's usually a few in there on any given night, and it's very comfy. But Aston ..."

And he stopped, turned, pushed me against the wall, and looked me dead in the eyes.

"Little boys don't have many nights when they need their own place to sleep. Because by the time the night comes, a little boy is almost always in a big boy's bed."

My heart was hammering in my chest. I was suddenly conscious that I was breathing very heavily, and my knees felt weak. But then James' grip slackened, and with a grin, he let me go.

"Come on," he ordered. "Let's go downstairs."

We had indeed come to a staircase. Trying to compose myself, I followed James down. At the bottom, we passed through an archway, and into a large hall. And here, I got my first real look at the community I had stumbled upon.

It was the end of breakfast. Two long tables stretched the length of the hall, and sitting at them on an assortment of chairs and benches, still finishing off their food, were half a dozen men. They all looked somewhere between 25 and 45, and every one of them was big and well-muscled (all wore t-shirts or had rolled up their sleeves, and I could tell just by looking at those toned, tanned arms that they were fit. And there was something else about them too: a kind of relaxed, confident self-assurance, as though nothing in the world could trouble them. Moving between the tables clearing away plates were a few boys who looked a lot more like me: younger, slimmer, with shaved, boyish faces. Every single one of them was shirtless and wore a pink pair of shorts just like mine. Except -- I noticed with a lurch in my stomach -- for one boy who was wearing not shorts, but a short, pink, frilly skirt.

Heads were turning to look at me. I felt my face flush pink as several of the men gave me searching, intensely curious looks. For a moment I met the eyes of one of the men sitting near me: a tall, lean man in a flannel shirt and jeans, with flecks of grey in his black hair and bright, twinkling eyes. But I couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second before I looked shyly away. It wasn't just that he was hot. They were all hot. It was the way he looked at me: quite openly, with no attempt to disguise the way his piercing eyes roved across my body. As though he didn't care that I knew he was looking. As though he was looking at me like I was an object, and he didn't care that I knew it.

James took me by the forearm, and led me on. Still blushing, I avoided meeting anyone else's gaze -- though I sensed that some of the shirtless boys had stopped to look curiously at me too. James led me to the far end of the hall, where we turned left, walked through another archway, and were suddenly out in the bright morning sunshine.

Blinking, I looked around, and realised we were in a large courtyard. High stone walls rose around it, some of them with staircases cut into their sides. The far wall of the courtyard was some way off, and I appreciated for the first time just how big this place was: roomy enough for a whole series of little gardens, all enclosed within the outer walls. In the middle of the space rose a tall, round tower that stood high above the rest of the fortress.

There were men moving around out here too. As I looked around, I saw something that made my breath catch in my throat. On a bench nearby, under the shade of a leafy tree, a man was sitting at his ease, relaxing, looking like he hadn't a care in the world ... while a boy knelt between his legs, sucking passionately on his cock.

The openness of it -- the way it was just happening, out here in the courtyard, with nobody giving them a second glance -- was enough to make a giddy wave of nerves rush through me again. The man had one arm oustretched along the top of the bench, while his other hand rested casually, possessively, on the back of the slave-boy's head. He wasn't undressed, but had simply opened the front of his pants so that the shirtless, pink-clad boy could suck for him. And that boy was really sucking. Deep, slow, sloppy -- an indulgent, worshipful blowjob, his eyes closed, as though there were nothing that mattered in the world beyond sucking on that big, hard cock.

I looked back at James, feeling like I wanted to ask him something -- though I wasn't even clear what I wanted to say. But before I could speak, we both heard a noise.

Echoing from the other side of the great courtyard, around the curve of the tower, came a long, heartfelt cry, half a scream and half a moan, with an intensity in it like I had never heard before.

James' eyes lit up. "Come on," he told me. "This will be something valuable for you to see."

He began to lead me along a path between small gardens and groves of trees, heading towards the sound. The cries had not stopped. The boy, whoever he was, was wailing and moaning like I had never heard anybody moan in my life. There was an anguished, overwhelming intensity in those noises, as though this were the sound of a pain or pleasure that could barely even be expressed.

And then we rounded a corner, came out into a smaller courtyard, and I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw what was happening.

In the centre of this courtyard stood a large wooden frame. Strapped into that frame, with his wrists and ankles boundly tightly in leather restraints, was a completely naked boy. He looked as young as I was -- a slim, smooth-faced twink with a mop of blonde hair. He had been strapped in so that he was bent over as though on all fours, with his head at crotch height, his legs spread, and his ass raised.

A huge naked man -- over six feet tall, with a mane of shoulder-length blonde hair, broad, massive shoulders, and bulging, breathtaking muscles -- was fucking the boy's ass with all the force and energy of a revved-up motor. He was pounding him with rough, furious abandon, hammering his cock into the boy's peachy little ass. And though I couldn't see more than a glimpse of the shaft, I knew that cock was frighteningly, shudderingly big.

The boy's eyes had rolled back in his face. He was gasping and screaming and moaning at the top of his lungs, as every thrust made him cry out afresh. Standing around watching were a small handful of men, some of them watching with silent, amused satisfaction on their faces, one or two of them actually laughing at the sight of the slave-boy being pounded. A few of these men had shirtless slave-boys standing at their side, also watching the spectacle. But none of those boys were laughing. They were all staring, wide-eyed, with expressions of ... fear? Awe? A kind of horrified fascination?

With a twisting, queasy feeling in my tummy, I realised that I recognised the emotion on those faces. Because it was the exact same emotion that rose up inside me at the sight -- and the sound -- of the boy in that frame being fucked. There was fear in it, yes. But there was also a deep, powerful, fascinated attraction.

A man strolled over to me and James, and stood beside us, watching. He was tall, with thick chestnut hair, and he wore a casual t-shirt and jeans.

"Morning James," he grinned. "Come to watch the show?"

"What did he do?" asked James, his eyes on the wailing slave-boy.

"Oh, it was with me, actually," the man said casually. "He didn't want to swallow. I came in his mouth, and the dirty little twink actually tried to spit ... well, obviously that's not acceptable. Kirios ordered that he be put in the frame and given to Mason. You know how it goes: the longest, hardest pounding that Mason and Kirios can give him."

"That's Mason," James commented to me, nodding to the huge man. "He and Kirios have the two biggest cocks of all of us."

I gave a massive shiver. I was finding it hard to tear my eyes away from the scene before us. Mason's entire body seemed filled to the brim with hard, pummelling energy, and he was taking out every last bit of it on that boy's ass.

"A bunch of us are going to fuck his mouth as well," the man beside us went on. "He'll remember his place once he's had plenty of loads pumped down his throat."

"I think he might be remembering his place already," said James with a wry smile.

"I absolutely agree," said a familiar voice behind us.

I spun around. Kirios was standing there, and his dark hair and olive skin were beautiful in the warm sunlight. I was struck anew by how tall he was, and how broad were his shoulders. The buttons on his white cotton shirt were undone to halfway down, giving me a glimpse of a toned, muscular chest. He looked at me, and gave a satisfied, knowing smile.

"So James," he said quietly. "How was your night with our little visitor?"

I felt myself blushing furiously. There was a twinkle in Kirios' eye, and I was suddenly acutely aware that he knew, knew for a certainty, that I had spent the night taking cock for the first time in my life. And by the look in his eye, he knew I had liked it.

James put a possessive hand on my ass and squeezed, which made me blush even more.

"Oh, we had such a good night," he told Kirios with a grin. "Sam came and joined us. Little Aston here was very shy at first ... but once we warmed him up, he turned into such an eager little boy."

I wanted to bury my face in my hands. Or in James' chest. Kirios' gaze was on me, and I felt again what I had felt when I first met him: that he could see right into my soul, into desires and needs that not even I knew I had. And now he was smirking.

"Aston was an eager little boy?" he repeated, amused. "Why, I would never have thought it ..." but his tone said that it was exactly what he had thought. That me turning into an eager little cock-sucker was nothing more than what he had expected.

"And was he good for you both?" Kirios went on. "Did he accept his place? Did he suck and fuck like an obedient twink?"

I shivered. James was stepping close against me, his hands on my waist from behind, and then he kissed my neck, and I felt something quail and tremble inside me.

"He's a natural cock-sucker," James said. "He sucks like it's the only thing he wants in the world. Like all he wants is to be a good little cock-sucking boy-slut. And his ass -- Kirios, his ass is so tight, so peachy. Sam and I both pounded him so hard, and he took it so well. He's such a fuckable little cutie."

I felt like I would burn up under the heat of Kirios' gaze. Dimly, I was aware of the ecstatic moans and wails of the boy being fucked in the frame. James' hand was kneading my ass, and I felt like if he weren't holding me, I might have gone weak at the knees and collapsed.

Kirios was giving me a deeply satisfied smile. "Very good indeed," he said. And then he stepped very close to me, so I could see the skin of his chest just inches away from my face. He tilted my face up by the chin, bent down, and kissed me full on the mouth. His tongue tasted hot and musky and exciting, and I felt myself trembling all through my body. Then he had finished, and was taking a step back and speaking again to James.

"I think it's time we put him with the others, James. Let him go in the stable for a bit. I'm sure you'll see him again ... so long as he chooses to stay with us, that is."

He gave me a knowing smirk.

"Will do," said James. "Come on, little slave." And he took my arm and began to steer me away across the courtyard.

James led me to a small archway in one of the walls. Stepping inside, I found myself in a softly lit space with an assortment of couches and beds spread around it, some against the stone walls and some standing free. There were a few doors spaced around it that seemed to lead to smaller cubicles or to bathrooms. Half a dozen or so boys my age were here, all of them mostly naked just like me. One or two were curled up asleep on the beds; a few others lounged around together, talking in low voices. The pair of boys near us turned to look as James and I stepped inside.

"This is the stable," James murmured to me as we paused in the doorway. "It's the place where boys can come to sleep and relax when none of the men are using them."

"Are the men not allowed in here?"

James chuckled. "Of course they are -- we can come in here and play with the slaves whenever we want. But usually we take them somewhere else -- to our rooms, or to the halls and courtyards for bigger orgies. This space is for boys who need somewhere quiet to rest, or to get some downtime."

I nodded. The two boys sitting on the bed nearest to us were whispering to each other. James took me by the arm again, and led me over to them.

"Hi boys," said James with a smirk. They both said hi back, and I noticed the familiar, flirty smiles they were giving him. I found myself wondering just how often James had made each of these two boys suck and fuck for him.

"This is Aston," James went on. "He arrived here last night, and he's very new. I want you both to look after him -- he hasn't met any of the other slaves yet. Aston, this is Ben and Pete."

"Hi," I said to them shyly. Pete was blonde and blue-eyed; Ben had floppy, curly brown hair and a rather full, feminine mouth. Both of them were naked except for the usual tight, tiny shorts. Like me, they were young, slim, and toned, with very little body hair and smooth, fresh-looking skin. Pretty twinks, like all the other boys I had seen in this place.

"I'll see you later Aston," said James, looking down at me with a warm smile. He kissed me deep on the mouth, making my entire body shiver with pleasure. Then he turned, and left me in the stable with the boys.

"Come and sit with us," smiled Ben, patting the spot on the bed between them. Nervously, I hopped onto bed and sat against the pillows with the two boys. Pete leaned it, took me by the cheek, and kissed me on the lips -- sensuously, lasting several seconds. Surprised, I kissed him back. When Pete had finished, Ben turned my face to him and kissed me too, his lips pressing against my mouth in a way that made my tummy flutter. Both of them were acting like this was totally normal. It seemed this was just the way boys greeted each other here.

"So," said Pete. "You're new. How did you join?"

"Well," I said hesitantly, "I haven't exactly joined. I'm just staying here temporarily."

"Oh?" asked Ben, raising an eyebrow. "How does that work?"

I explained how Kirios had given me a brief stay as a guest, and about how I would have to choose whether to stay or to leave. Pete and Ben were fascinated.

"So let me get this straight," said Pete slowly. "Twenty-four hours ago, you'd never taken cock?"

I shook my head sheepishly. "Not once," I told him. "And never sucked either. James and Sam last night were my very first. First and only, so far."

"Oh I don't think that's going to last for long," grinned Ben.

I felt myself blushing. "How did you both join?" I asked them.

Both of the boys smiled -- a dreamy, happy, naughty smile, as though delicious memories were coming back to them.

"Well," said Ben, "I was a captive originally."

"A captive?" I repeated, not at all sure I had heard correctly.

"Oh yes," he said wistfully. "This was back in the early years. Back then, Kirios and the others would actually go out and look for boys, then capture them, pick them up, and bring them back here to fuck. Boys who were hiding out in the wild -- like you've been doing, I guess." He sighed, a faraway look in his eyes.

"I was so frightened at first," he said quietly. "I remember shaking and shivering and begging them not to fuck me, begging them to let me go. But they just laughed."

Inside my shorts, I could feel my cock growing hard. What in the world was wrong with me? How could I possibly be turned on by this?

"And then they carried me into one of the inner chambers. And they stripped me naked, and bent me over a table, and held me down, and ..." he shivered. "So much fucking. For so long. Cock after cock after cock. Pounding and pounding in my ass, hour after hour, night after night. The community was smaller back then, but there were still enough men to gangbang me like I was nothing but their cumdump."

I realised I was breathing very heavily, hanging on every word of Ben's story.

"And I begged and wailed whenever they made me take another cock. But at the same time, there was something in me deep down that just, like ... just swooned when a man bent me over. Like being used as a cumdump was what I wanted. Like it was all I wanted. Every pump of every cock inside my ass made me feel more and more like this was what I was made for. So when they started making me suck, I ..." he blushed. "I was so confused. I didn't know why I felt this way. But I wanted to suck. I wanted to suck cock more than anything in the world. Except for being fucked again. I wanted that even more."

"Kirios could tell," grinned Pete. "Kirios can always tell. He wouldn't have picked you up as a captive if he didn't sense you wanted it, deep down. He has that way of knowing when a boy just wants to be a slave."

I remembered the look in Kirios' eyes when he had first set eyes on me, last night when I came in out of the rain. I shivered.

"And then they gave me the chance to leave," said Ben dreamily.