The Standup Boys' Last Fight

Hearing Neshet, she perked her head up, revealing a wooden bit that had been shoved into her mouth and tied there. Letting out a hobbled moan, she strained every muscle in her body, swinging slightly on her ropes and causing her breasts to jiggle. She arched her back, and for a moment Neshet could see a braid of ropes plunging down between her legs. The bottom half of her dress had been torn away, so the rope ground mercilessly into her unprotected pussy.

"Shh!" Neshet hissed. "Shush, shush, be quiet!" Scampering up to the bound woman, she examined the ropework. "Where do I start?"

The woman answered with a moan.

"Oh, right." Grabbing a fish knife, Neshet cut away the gag.

"Don't do it!" the woman blubbered. "It'll take you all night to get me down without hurting me. Just leave me here. Find Governor Mananat and stop those boys!"

"But I have to free you! It's... this is indecent!"

"It was already indecent when they rubbed down my pussy." She let out an exasperated breath. "It still burns!"

"I should-"

"No! Just get the others! You don't have time. I do. I'll..." She let her head droop. "I'll be alright."

"Where are the others?"

"Just across the street."

Neshet took one last look at the hung, helpless ornament this woman had been turned into, then sprinted out the door.

As she loped across the dirt street between huts, she heard shouting; purposefully or not, Amuset had been found out.

Inside the next hut, Neshet found sack after bulging sack of dry desert sand, a building material that the motherland had been certain would be useful to Darmayet, but which had only taken up space. Lighting the lamp from a lit candle, she saw that two of the biggest had been slit open, and sand covered the ground in a layer nearly a foot thick. Partially buried in the sand, a young man, stripped bare, rested on his hands and knees, his sandy brown hair obscuring the eyes on his downcast face. But as soon as he realized someone else was in the room, he perked up. His wide blue eyes and parted lips spelled hope.

"It's okay," said Neshet, "I'm here to help." She stepped around behind him, noticing the lamplight glistening off his sweaty ass cheeks and a slow drip of cum oozing down from his spent cock. "What did they do to you?" she asked, as she dug away the sand covering his legs, revealing a bondage frame that kept them down.

"Ugh..." The man sighed. "I really didn't think Intriba faulted me that much. When I said I wouldn't help him, he tied me like this, then he used his hand on me until I squirted." Neshet freed his right leg, and he groaned as he stretched it out. "Tied up and squeezed dry... some things never change, I guess. I'm Naka, by the way."

"Naka! You're Amuset's!"

"Yeah." Naka's hands came free, and he took it on himself to untie his left leg. "Is she safe? I heard they're going after the women too."

"She's fine," said Neshet. "The last I saw-"

"Watch out!"

Whipping around, she saw a mountain of a man filling the doorway, his short black hair and sleeveless shirt accentuating his fearsome muscles.

"Intriba!" Naka jabbed a finger at the great brute. "Damn it, Intriba, I thought we were friends! After all we've been through, I thought I could trust you!"

"There's two sides, little man." Snarled Intriba. "You weren't with us. So you're against us." His deadly eyes shifted to Neshet. "And you're not the only one." From behind his back, he drew a khopesh.

Naka and Neshet gasped in unison.

The man lunged, the curved blade snatching through the air where Neshet had been a moment ago, and she let out a scream as she fell back against a sandbag.

Intriba stepped up to her, then stopped. Naka had wrapped his sinewy arms around Intriba's brutish tree-trunk limb, and the two swayed for a moment, grunting as each failed to gain any leverage, before falling to their knees. Maneuvering his head under Intriba's arm, Naka opened his jaws and sank his teeth into the strong flesh under him, drawing a gravelly roar from Intriba and causing him to drop his deadly weapon. The blade flopped harmlessly onto the sandy floor.

Now Naka started to gain the upper hand. Leaping behind Intriba, he yanked the man's arm behind him, pinning it there while dodging the other hand.

Seeing an opportunity, Neshet sprang into the grapple, reaching up and gripping Intriba's massive shoulders, then pulling him past her, causing him to trip over her foot and sprawl on the sand.

Finally, Naka planted himself astride Intriba's back, immobilizing his other arm with Neshet's help.

"You fucking traitor!" Intriba screamed. "You ought to be buried for this!"

"Traitor?" Naka snapped back. "Who's the one who tied me up and pumped me until I came? You're the one who deserves this." Reaching back, he pulled down Intriba's pants and spanked his bare ass, sending only a slight ripple through his firm flesh.

Footsteps scrambled outside, and three figures appeared in the entrance to the hut. For a moment, Neshet cast about for the khopesh, but she may as well not have worried. Governor Mananat stood in the doorway, flanked by Amuset and Ferena, with Zameed peeking over their shoulders a moment later.

"This rebellion," declared the governor, "Is over."

Women, fully dressed and armed, poured into the hut, and Neshet gladly released Intriba into their capable hands. Her nerves tingled, and the world became a blur as she shuffled out of the hut, into the wreckage of the watchtower where almost half the men in Darmayet were herded into a circle, kept in place by spears, blades and crossbows trained on them. Intriba was shoved into the group, where he glared defiance at the women.

Zameed sidled up beside Neshet, and she put her arms around his reassuringly firm stomach as Governor Mananat began a speech about mercy and order. For the first few minutes, Neshet did not listen, merely enjoying the sensation of holding a man she could trust—a man whom she had trusted with her life, and who had not let her down.

Among the crowd, Neshet saw something disturbing. Vot stood in the middle of the men, tenderly holding hands with a tall, gentle-looking man with long hair. While other men huffed and snarled or whimpered and cried, these two were impassive. Vot's boyfriend made eye contact with Neshet, and his expression did not change. 'Whatever you do to me,' said his soft brown eyes, 'I am ready.'

"...If anyone has any good words for these rebels-convict," said the governor, "volunteer them now before I send them into bondage."

Neshet made her decision. Vot had only rebelled for love, and he did not deserve to be punished for that. "I have some words!" she burst in.

The whole colony stared at her as she fervently wished she had worded that differently.

"Those two," she continued, pointing at Vot and his boyfriend. "I saw them before all this began. They weren't involved. They ran and hid as soon as they realized the other boys were coming for them."

All eyes turned from her to the two lovers, who made no effort to hide their astonishment. The governor gave a signal, and an armed woman herded the two out of the circle, up to. "Are you certain these two are innocent?"

Neshet swallowed. "Yes."

Rapture passed across the boys' faces as they were let free. They hugged each other desperately, and Kervin whispered his profuse thanks to Neshet before Vot hurried him away.

"That was brave," Zameed whispered into Neshet's ear.

"It was scary," she whispered back.

"Do I need to relax you again?"

Neshet smiled.

* * *

By lamplight, Neshet wrote a letter to her mother. As her nimble pen swirled along the papyrus, she read aloud what she wrote.

"...After the trial," she said, "the colony lost about half of its men. Maybe the convicts will put in a year or three in the sand pits, or maybe they're destined for a state brothel. Most of the rebels are better suited for that first one, I think. For the ones who stayed... mmh..." She moaned as a little flame of pleasure robbed her of her focus.

She looked down. Zameed knelt between her legs, hot breath tickling her femininity. Every so often, he teased her with a light touch of his tongue, doing just enough to keep her excited. She tapped his head, signaling him to be softer.

"For the ones who stayed," she continued, "the governor has banned the Izazi language. It's a wise move, but I can't imagine never being allowed to speak my own mother tongue. Can you?"

She cracked her knuckles and stretched her fingers as another caress from Zameed's tongue kindled the flame between her legs. Taking a deep breath, she began a new paragraph.

"Mother, I think I finally understand what you wanted from me when you badgered..." she blotted out that last word. "...urged me to get married. You wanted me to show initiative and act as my own woman. Now I've finally learned how. Because of what I did, Kervin and Vot got the chance to travel north on the same riverboat that's carrying this letter. They think they can make it on their own in the motherland, and maybe they're right. Either way, they have a new lease on life, and I'll always remember that when I have the chance to do something good."

Holding the papyrus vertically, she read her letter, then reread it as Zameed warmed her with another dab of his tongue.

"It's finished," she said at last. "What do you think, Zameed?"

Slowly, Zameed extricated himself from her, wiped his lips and looked up. "I think the letter is beautiful. As for Kervin and Vot and all the other Standup Boys, it's the end of an age. We founded Standup on grit and a miracle, then put an equally miraculous effort into tearing it down in our civil war. After that, boys were snapped up by the tribes and the monster girls like the last grains from the breakfast bowl, then we came here and were fool enough to rebel again. In between all that, there were a few gentler ones willing to settle down and let the danger pass them by. Now that your governor has banned our language, this is it. The Standup movement is finally over."

"I'm so glad you're one of the gentle ones."

He smiled. Then he turned his head down and continued to please her.