tagGay MaleThe Forge

The Forge


(Wrote for fun to give a try at a category I've not written in before. Hope it's enjoyable)

Rivulets of sweat run down my bare skin to dampen the already wet edge of my leather pants. I keep a slow count as I pull down the rope on the bellows. The constant even rhythm I've kept going for the last hour at least. My shoulders and chest burn from the effort.

Or maybe that's from the heat. My face has a sun burnt feeling about it.

The large pile of coal the Mastersmith, a great bear of a man, rakes up glows a brilliant red in the growing dim light. The last hours of the day are upon us and the Master is trying to finish heat treating a large gate hinge for the Lords carriage house.

I watch as the older apprentice, Harles, moves to his side with a large set of tongs. As I pull on the wooden handle with my pain racked hands I see the two of them working together in perfect harmony. They lift the large heavy piece of glowing steel from the fires and with each of them holding part of it they move together over to the quenching tanks.

Three barrels site side by side. Oil for soft, water for hard, salt water for hardest. I learned that this morning.

The cherry red steel screams and sends a great billowing cloud up and across the ceiling as they lower it into the salt water.

"Enough Geon. You're wasting my coal now." The Master calls over to me, his voice a deep grumble. He looks demonic standing in the cloud of steam, it curling up and around his dark face.

I turn the handle lose with pleasure. My blistered hands ache from the unfamiliar effort.

This is only my first day in the forge.

I stand unsure of what to do as they bring the metal piece up out the water and take it to a large box full of sand. Setting it down it sinks into the shifting sand. At his directing, Harles turns the piece for the Master to see from all angles.

"Good. That's one at least. Clean this one up. Well try for the other three tomorrow. Geon. Come here."

I walk over to the still blisteringly hot forge.

The Master takes a metal rake from the side of the wall and pulls the coals apart. I see him fish out a chunk of...something.

"This is a clinker." He tells me moving it out into the open hearth. "It's coal and slag that's fussed together. It makes the fires burn colder. I can't have that. Now they form when the fires are at their hottest like they were today. I want you to start making sure they are fished out the pile. You have to learn how to do it while we work but without getting in our way. You get in my way too many times... Harles show him."

The other apprentice stops rubbing sand against the hinge piece with a piece of old leather, and turns to the side. I see two square marks just above his right hip.

I look away from him quickly. I've had to do my best not to stare at his body all day.

He looks like the smith made him here in the forge.

"That's my tongs. I wont do it your first couple of days but if you don't pick this up quickly I'll give you a brand so you can remember to not be in my way. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master." The idea of that tong, hot from the fires touching my skin causes me to cringe. Like I can already feel the pain.

"As old as you are you're going to have to learn quicker than most apprentices would. If you're going to have any kind of forge of your own one-day you will have to pick this up at near double the pace I normally teach. I realize its not your fault what happened but it's still going to be on you to do it. You understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Now every tool in the forge has a place it should be. Most of them are there now. You need to start to lean where things go. Keep your mind free of daydreams and focused when you're here. You can get hurt in this place real quick. You did good today for the most part. You follow directions well, just like your mother said. Now, rake the rest of the clinkers out. Takes these tongs and drop them into the fire bucket here. When you've got that done sweep out the forge. Everything goes onto the stones out front. You leave a hot spark in my forge and something catches fire I'll put you in that fire and roast you! You understand?"

I'm already coming to hate hearing that phrase.

"Yes, Master.

The Mastersmith takes one last look at what Harles is doing with the sand then hangs his apron over the peg by the door.

"Keep an eye on him." He tells the older apprentice as he walks out towards his house.

The flat metal bar shifts coal in the pile around.

"Push it to the outside... away from the bellows hole." I hear Harles say from behind me.

I nod but don't look at him beyond a second's glance.

The hot clinkers hit the water with a 'thuwop' sound when I drop them in. Little whiffs of stream rise up after each.

My blistered hands ache. I shake my head. New trade new blisters.

I shake my head at the unfairness of it all. Eighteen years old I should be already the master of my chosen trade.

When I was twelve, father, had apprenticed me to a carter. I got to travel the long roads all over the land, loading and unloading goods. Turnips from one place, pig iron from another. Lumber from the harbors. The big wagons with the creaking wheels. The constant weather.

I had loved it all.

Well... maybe not the heavy lifting, some of that had been backbreaking but still I saw the world for several years. I went to places others only get to dream of seeing. The great white cliffs stand out the largest in my memories, the wide expanse of the sea laid out under them. The tall masted ships smelling of foreign lands. Unloading tons of timber from the new colony. The seemingly endless days of back and forth travel from the coast to the great cities. The loading and unloading of our goods.

It had been all I could dream.

Till the night the men came out the woods.

My master, Simon, had taken one look at them and told me to run! I did as he said of course but by the time I reached the trees I was regretting doing so. I could have helped him. I was near a man grown at seventeen.

Then his screams had reached me. I had once been in London during the cold of winter and witness them executing the traitors that tried to blow up Parliament. Their screams had hardly been worse.

I made my way through the woods to the nearby township and found the sheriff. With a group of men we went back to the scene and found the wagon gone and all the goods were as well.

The body of my poor master, Simon, was nailed to a wooden fence rail nearby. His gut sliced open and laying by his feet.

I returned home under a cloud. The family of Simon believed, for some reason, I had something to do with the death of their father. Because I had lived maybe. I went first to their home to tell them of his fate. The news had proceeded me by a half day. I was sent upon by the older sons and their men and chased with dogs nearly to my family's house.

Father had, I discovered when I got there, died of cholera while I was gone. My mother and sister were both in a bad way from lack of food and grief.

Eighteen years of age with no chance of ever being a carter, Simons family had sent out a black word on me, I had to try and find a way to feed my family.

I was strong.

Years of lifting and loading had done that for me at least. Mother talked the husband of her oldest friend into taking me on. He needed another apprentice after his newest one had died in the same sickness that took my father.

My thighs are pushed up against the forge driving my memories and daydreams away in a rush! I feel the weight of Harles' body pushing me forward. His strong hands go to my arms catching me and holding me fast. The warmth of the bricks begins to burn me through the leather pants.

"I saw you watching me. Do you like working here? Working around men like the Master and myself?" his words are soft and right by the side of my head. I feel the press of his bare stomach and chest against my back.

Not sure of what to say I stand mute...unsure of more than words.

"Hum...afraid to talk? I don't doubt it. You're all soft." His hand turns lose of my right arm and comes around to my chest. "If you had teats you would be like a girl."

I try to move but he holds me firm with the pressure of his body against my back. I struggle when I feel his hand run down across my sweaty stomach. I gasp as he grabs me through the leather.

"Here something that's not soft though. You must like working around us if you're this hard."

I try to move again as he rubs me through my pants. I feel myself hardening under his touch. He grabs the forgotten tongs from my hand and trusts them into he coal pile I had yet to shift.

"Don't you move or I'll give you a brand before the Master can."

Fearful of even the thought of that I stand still as he turns lose my other arm. His hands circle my waist and take hold of the ties of my pants.

Then my cock is in his callused hand.

I hiss as I feel his fingers tighten around me with brutal strength. I whimper a bit as he moves down the length of me.

"My man's hands to rough for your little girls skin are they? Well here."

For a few seconds his hand leaves me. I feel him shift behind me, and then his hand is back.

I gasp as I feel the warm oil being stroked the length of me.

'Better?" he asks by my ear. I moan as he tightens his finger again. His grip is so powerful that even with the oil I feel a bit of pain from his stroking.

His body leans into mine. I try to catch myself on the forge but my blistered hands burn at the touch of the hot bricks.

I have to push back against him to keep from falling forward into the hot coals.

"That's better." He says to me in a whisper.

I feel a hard bulge against the back of my pants where he is pressed against me.

"You like?' he asks me pulling all the harder on me. "Answer me."

I swallow and nod.

"Say it."

"Yes. Yes I like it." I tell him after a second.

"I though you might. You have the look of someone who would. Like my hand on you now? Not so rough now is it? Answer."

"Yes I like it." I tell him softly.

He chuckles in my ear.

"I think you're going to like working here."

I begin to pant for breath as I feel him thrust against the back of my pants. The heat of the bricks, uncomfortable at first has now settled into hot warmth again the front of my thighs. His hand strokes me with a grip so tight I can hardly stand it, but I slip through his oiled fingers with ease.

His off hand comes around me and covers s my mouth. The hard calluses press into my lips silencing the gaps of fear that rises out of me.

"Can't have you making a lot of noise when you cum now can we. Wouldn't want the Master to come back out here and find us doing this. He would flog the both of us."

I moan into his hand as he starts to move his hand faster. Then faster still. I seem to float for a second trapped between the heat of the forge and his warm body moving against my back. His strong fingers are giving me a pleasure even my own hands have never matched. I whimper into his palm as he all but crushes me.

"My soft little thing. Gonna cum for me?"

I nod unable to speak even if his hand wasn't in the way.

I feel it building. Like a river in flood I feel it starting to rise. Then like that river it spills over its banks to run wild.

As I moan into his hand I look past his fingers and see my seed spray out of me and land hissing into the hot coals. Rope after rope of white to sizzle and stream. Only able to breath through my nose I feel myself growing faint as I can't catch my breath. His grip on me softens then. It becomes a gentle stroke that milks the last drops from me to fall dripping onto the stone floor. Then I shiver as I feel his words stirring the hairs on the side of my neck.

"It's my turn little Geon."

His hand leaves me and catches me by my hip. His other hand has me by the shoulder. I'm turned and leaned down across the largest anvil. The top is a hard cold pressure against my chest.

"Don't move." He tells me as he turned me lose.

I feel his hands take hold of the side of my pants. With a jerk he has them down to my knees. Then, hugging the anvil to my chest I feel him move away from me for a second.

His fingers are covered with oil as he pushes them between my ass cheeks. I bite my lip as he begins to push one into me. I gasp as the slick digit enters me easily.

"Quiet now. No noise my little Geon."

I have to bite my lip as the finger is pushed all the way into me!

I moan in relief as he pulls it back out, then my eyes feel like they are going to pop out my head as he drives it back into me.

There is a second finger beside it now!

I cling to the anvil and try to not whimper loudly as he moves his thick strong fingers around inside of me.

I gasp as they are jerked form me. The slick feeling of oil runs down and drips from my balls.

Part of me knows what's going to happen but my mind refused to recognize his actions behind me.

Then I feel him at the entrance of me. Like a hard pressure pushing with demanding force against me.

He enters me in one quick shove.

I can't stifle the cry that leaves my lips then. He leans the length of his body across me and his hand, slick with oil, covers my mouth.

"I said be quiet! I have no desire to feel a carter's whip across my flesh."

The smell of his fingers under my noise is I know a mixture of my own body and the oil. It has a scorched smell for the many quenching. I whimper against his hand as he thrusts into me. I feel his body rocking against me driving him into me and back out. He moves barely two inches each time but I flinch at ever one of those inches.

Slowly I relax. I feel his hand loosen a bit then he moves it away. His fingers take a hold of me by my hips and he pulls out further. I cling to the anvil as he drives himself into me over and over against. The hard metal give surprising comfort as I fight to be quiet under the power of his lusts.

I hear first one then another deep grunts from behind me. Then his hand leaves my hips and digs painfully into my shoulder. I'm driven even harder back into him.

He slams into me then with a force that knocks the breath from my lungs. Ignoring his own warnings I hear a deep moan from him as I feel his length pulse inside me.

I know what has happen. I cling to my solid anchor, this chunk of cold metal that is to be my life from now on. The pain of it begins to seep back to me now.

He slips from me with a wet feeling along the side of my ass cheeks. I feel sweat from him dripping onto my back.

He pulls me up from the anvil with almost gentle pressure. I'm turned in his arms till I'm looking him in the eyes. He gives me a soft smile, and then I'm feeling his lips on mine.

His kiss is firm like the rest of him. He holds me tight to him for several long seconds then smiling lets me go.

"Clean yourself up. Finish cleaning up in here and come up to the house. The Master's wife is a good cook."

I watch him turn away from me and walk from the forge leaving me standing there with my pants around my knees. Both my ass and my cock drip as I pant for the breath I couldn't catch before.

I feel oil running down my leg. I think that's what finally brings me to action. A scrap of old cloth cleans me enough to let me pull back up my pants. I stagger a bit till I reach the water barrel. The water has a metallic taste as I bath my face in it.

Leaning over it I see my own reflection looking back at me. My face looks flush but I can't deny the fully satisfied look I have about me either.

I look up and let my gaze take in the forge around me. The smells of old metal and rust are strong enough to hide the other scent I notice lingering. I push up off the barrel and go get the broom and start to sweep the floor clean.

Moving the dust and dirt towards the door I flinch a bit at little twinges of pain that shoot through me.

By the time I'm finishing up I know two things for sure.

I'm going to like working here.

And I'm not going to sit easily at dinner tonight.

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