X-Digest-Subject: GayNet Digest Volume 4 Issue 187
Date: Sun, 3 Nov 1991 15:04:38 -0500
Subject: erotica

        I have been quietly reading this list for some time now.  It has
been very informative, yet a little dry.  So I am finally posting a piece
of a story I've written.  If the general feeling is this sort of post is
inapropriate for this list, I apologize, and will not post anymore of the
same.  If any individual is offended, I apologize to them personally.  It
was not my intention to offend.
        My gay life is almost exclusively a fantasy life.  One of my
hobbies is making up elaborate stories, not necessarily sexual. I enjoy
sharing these with friends, but some scenes I am to shy to share, so I am
posting one anonymously on this list.  I'm no great writer, but I
appreciate constructive criticisms.  I really love to discuss my stories
and would love to hear your comments, but I'm not sure if that is possible
since I am posting anonymously.
        As I said earlier, this is a scene from a larger story.  Since it's
a flashback, it's fairly independent from the rest of the story, but you
should know a little background.  The stroy takes place in the way off
distant future in a post-nuclear holocaust America. (I never said it wasn't
bizarre) Carson Bracall is a descendant of the families that came up out of
the 'think tanks' (sunk safely below ground) about a hundered years after
The War.  These families quickly became a small ruling class through their
use of technology and general health, from living in a protected
environment.  Instead of sharing their knowledge, it's been closely
guarded.  They have an elite school  where they send their children to
learn 'science', which is not taught in general schools.  
        When Carson was sent away to science school, he took his personal
slave, Jonathon with him.  Jonathon and he are close in age and have been
raised as practically brothers, with allowances for their different status.
 (In all liklihood, they are indeed half brothers)  Jonathon is being
trained to take over as overseer when Carson's father dies and Carson
becomes 'lord of the manor'.  Despite their class differences, they are
good friends.
        At school, Carson walks in on Jonathon and a male lover.  Jonathon
has been hot for Carson for ages.  This begins a long flirtation and
limited experimentation.  This is called to a halt when the two of them
must return to the Bracall Estate.  Carson says they both have too much to
lose.  This scene takes place soon after they return to the estate.
        I don't reccomend deconstructing my stories too much.  They make me
come off as an unhealthy person.  (I certainly don't know why certain
things arouse me.)  But this is interesting in the context of the ongoing
discussion on this list about 'position of privilidge'.    Some people have
said that white males are not necessarily sexist or racist.  I would agree
with that with the qualification that a lot of discrimination dynamics are
invisible from a position of privledge.  For example, as a member of the
upper class, class is invisible to me.  I am often classist without being
aware of it and constantly in need of re-education by my more aware
friends.
        Also, before anyone gets mad at me, saying that Jonathan is a
typical gay portrayal discrediting bisexuality  I want to say:  Jonathn is
not bi, he is gay.  Carson on the other hand, . . . well I just don't know.
 (any opinions?)
        well enough introduction, (can you tell I'm nervous?) enjoy!

                                -Morgan (not my real name, but I like it)

    Jonathon paused outside his Master's door.  He tried to quell his
rising excitement.  It was probably nothing, some small errand  Carson had
remembered upon climbing into bed.  It was foolish to get so excited over
the faintest possibility.  With these thoughts in his head and his heart
still pounding, he knocked on the door.
    Instead of a reply, Carson opened the door himself.   He was dressed in
a maroon velvet bathrobe.  He stepped into the doorway and looked quickly
up and down the corridor, before guesturing for Jonathon to enter the room
behind him.   A small smile rose on Jonathon's cheeks despite his efforts 
to keep his excitement at bay.  He heard the door close behind him, then
Carson put an arm around his shoulders squeezing him once. "Don't just
stand there, Jon.  Into the bedroom with you!"  And his Master began
walking, pulling Jonathon along, who would rather have savored the moment,
to drop his head against Carson's soft robe and breathe his scent, to fell
his strong body again under his arms.  But first he was being hustled into
the bedroom.
    To his surprise, Michelle was in the bedroom.  She was, in fact, on the
bed.  when Jonathon looked to his master, he found him grinning broadly. 
With another squeeze, Carson let go of Jonathon, seating himself in an
armchair.  Although the armchair was only a few feet away from the bed, it
lay in the shadow of the bright light spotlighting the bed.   Jonathon
could no longer see his master's face.  "She's all yours"  His disembodied
voice said.
    "Sir?"
    "I'm giving you a chance."  What?  Jonathon looked back over at
Michelle.  She was lounging patiently against the many pillows on Carson's
large bed.  Her sheer nightgown was both high and low cut, revealing her
long legs and the first curves of cleavage.  His intitial response to her
pose, and appearance had been that of an overseer.  She was succesfully
fulfilling her job.  She would be pleasing to the master.  Jonathon
suddenly relaised she was meant to be arousing to him, Jonathon.  Of
course, Carson was giving him a chance to have sex with a woman.  The
chance Jonathon had told Carson he never had.
    "Master Carson, I can't.  She's your concubine, meant for your pleasure
only."
    "It pleases me to watch her have sex with you."
    Jonathon inhaled sharply trying to keep his features calm, knowing they
did show in the light.  His heart still beat loudly, from fear now.  He
didn't want to sleep with this girl.  What was Carson thinking? And more
importantly, how could he talk him out of it?  "I can't Master Carson, if
anyone found out . . ."
    "No one will find out, Jon.  Why do you think I called you here so
late?"  Jonathon had to laugh at his earlier speculations.  "You have to if
I order it."
    "You're ordering me to . . ."  Jon couldn't finish.
    He could hear his master's pleased smirk.  "Pretty good, hunh?"  When
Jonathon still stood there frozen and removed, Carson frowned, puzzled.  He
said quietly, "You said you wanted me to ask this of you."
    Jonathon turned his head away at that, and clenched his jaw to keep the
bitter words "with you!"  in his throat , where they now burned.  Michelle
saw the growing tension.  She guestured for Jonathon to come to her.
    "Come and sit down, Jonathon.  The master waits."  she said.
    Jonathon took a deep breath, and sat down beside her on the edge of the
bed.  He had no choice but to do it. But to do what?  He had to laugh at
himself he didn't know what he was doing.  He stared at the floor.  His
feet rested flat on the floor, and his arms against his knees leaving him
leaning forward, staring at the floor.  
    Michelle moved so she was kneeling behind him on the bed.  She brought
her hands up to his shoulders and made a low laughing sound.  He stiffened 
at her touch.  "Relax, Jonathon."  She began kneading his shoulders.  It
did feel good to be massaged, though her hands wern't as large or hard as
he would have liked.  Jonathon looked in Carson's direction.  With the
light shining in his eyes, it was impossible to see past the lamp to the
chair where his master sat.  But he continued to look, thinking the master
might see his unwilingness and release him from this task.  He stiffened
again when he felt her lips on the back of his neck, light little touches,
like a feather being drawn down your spine, that makes you shudder.  He
felt her lips and tongue reaching at his ear, and then he heard what must
have been a faint whisper roaring in his ear. "Don't be stupid!"
    Of course, Jonathon was somewhat embarrased to realise how difficult he
was being.  The master had requested something of him.  It was a waste of
his time to  dwell on how repulsive the task was.  But he wasn't a
concubine, his job was to remain pasionless and aloof.  He wasn't
comfortable being seen like this.  Certainly, if Carson had asked him to
lay on this bed with him, Jon would be only to glad to let his passion
show, to throw himself into the task of arousing passion in turn, but that
wouldn't have been anything like this.  If Carson wanted to watch, he
should have told him.  He would have brought one of his friends, and  in a
few moments they both would have been lost in the passion and forgotten
Carson's prescence.  Or perhaps not, perhaps his presence would have been
only more exciting.  But why was he here in bed with this woman?
    She rose from the bed, then sank to his feet.  She pulled off both of
his shoes and socks, then stood again.  "Stand up."  she said.
    "What?"
    "Are you going to make love to me with your clothes on?"
    Jonathon stood and began to unbutton his shirt, but Michelle pushed his
hands aside.  She unbuttoned the rest letting it hang open a few moments
while she ran her damned light hands over his chest.  It was like tickling.
 Then she eased the sleves over his cuffs, and he stood bare chested.  The
air on his chest and back made him suddenly aware that he stood half naked
not just in front of this wench, but in front of Carson, and his crotch
grew tight.
    Michellle noticed, and bruched her hands against the bulge undoing his
belt, chuckling again.  He breathed in.  That still felt good, if only she
wouldn't be so damned light about it, if only she would really stroke him
hard so . . .Jonathon was surprised at his own thoughts, and is own
arousal.  She unlaced his pants then and slid them down his legs. He steped
out of them.  Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.  Maybe he could enjoy this. 
Carson had to be watching now, aching for her to pull off his underwear and
reveal his throbbing cock and tight ass.  And with Carson, he was aching
for her to do it.  And she did.   Then they stood there for a moment
looking at each other.
    Carson sat in his armchair trying to keep silent and unnoticed.  He
knew Michelle was beautiful and sexy, but he hadn't realized just how until
he could watch at a distance like this.  He had wanted to watch live
participants in the act ever since that day he had walked in on Jonathon. 
He had carried that slide, that single picture in his head ever since then.
 They were just standing there now, Michelle was waiting for him to take
her undress her.  Carson realised Jon was still nervous, unsure of what to
do.  "Unlace her gown."  He said.  He was surprised at the huskiness of his
voice.
    Jonathon looked off into the darkness, wishng he could see Carson's
face posessed by the lust so evident in his voice.  Then he looked down at
Michelle.  She was smiling.   He fumbled with the tiny ribbons, trying to
grasp them in his hands.  They evaded his fingers and slipped out between
them.  finnaly, with a quick tug, the bow came undone.  He loosened the 
lacings then, and, more gracerfully then his attempts, the gown slid over
her shoulders and back, stopping at her hips.  she reached her arms up
around his neck. "Kiss me."  She said.
    She was so short, he had to lean down.  Her head was thrown back so far
it was almost horizontal.  Her lips and tongue were timid, light.  It was
frustrating.  he put a hand around each tiny upper arm and lifted her to
his height, crushing her mouth in a real kiss.  The gown spilled over her
hips and on to the floor.  She cried out in pain and tore her mouth away.  
He set her down surprised.  "God, Jonathon.  Be careful."  She said.
    "Sorry."  He hadn't meant to hurt her.
    "Getting carried away, Jon?"  the voice from the shadows asked.  He
turned naked to face that voice, then Michelle was pushing him on to the
bed.  She turned, naked, to face their master.  "Shall I give him a
blowjob, Master."
    "Whatever he wants."
    She looked to Jonathon.  "Alright."  He said.  He was aroused now, and
somewhat impatient with all these baroque proceedings. He wanted to get at
it already.
    She climbed on the bed, and began sucking his cock, in a manner of
speaking.    She spent most of the time touching and kissing and licking it
and very little time with it actually in her mouth.  He groaned with
frustration, taking hold of her head and thrusting up with his hips in
attempt to satisfy his ache, but she again turned her head aside.  "You're
impatient, Jonathon."  She said teasingly.
    "You're frustrating, Michelle."  Enough of these games, and half
caresses!  If he had to have sex with the girl, she shuld let him do it,
rather than teasing him.  She lay next to him.
    "Then come on."  She said.  He looked at her a moment, confused by the
logistics of it.  How exactly did this work?  "lay on top of me, with your
legs between mine." He did, supporting his weight on his elbows.
    "Where's the lubricant?" he asked, trying to do his part. She laughed,
sliding down so her head was underneath his chest.  She took his cock and
slid it against something warm and wet.  He gasped at the sensation.
    "Right here."  Then she guided it in her.  He moaned.  Wet and warmth
and smooth and silk surrounded him.  He pushed in slowly, deeper and
deeper, till he was encased.  His breath was ragged now.  He felt her begin
to move her hips dragging that delicious sheath across his cock.  His own
hips bucked in response.  He forgot about her, or Carson, and just bucked
his hips in growing sensation.   She startled him when she spoke again. 
"Jonathon!  You're crushing me!"  He had dropped off his elbows.  "Sorry." 
He said, building up momentum again.  He found himself thrusting at her
faster then he ever could a man, but to no avail. That silkiness which had
at first been so arousing was now frustrating.  It kept him from 
climaxing.  "Go ahead, Jonathon"  She said.  He stopped and looked down at
her calm face.  He realised she didn't want to be doing this.  And he was
embarrased because now he did.  He was aroused and frustrated, and this
women was lieing here bored, waiting for him to finsh.   He hated the sound
of his own ragged breath, heaving in and out of his lungs, and then his
husky, broken voice.
    "I can't.  It's too slippery."
    "Thrust deeper."  she said.
    "I don't want to hurt you."  She shook her head.  She had her hands on
his ass and pulled him to her.  He felt himself deep inside her, like at
first.  He began to thrust his pelvis deep and hard.  He flet him self
building towards orgasm again.  Then a wet finger stroked his anus.  It was
a familiar sensation, and as he concentrated on that his body remembered
and he came.
    Carson watched Jon's buttocks tense as he  cried out in pleasure.  He
watched Jon's back ripple.  All he could see of Michelle was her feet ,
straddled around Jon's, and her hands wrapped around his ass.  Carson stood
up from the plush chair and dropped his robe as Jon rolled off her,
satiated.  He dived onto the bed, landing between Michelle's soft thighs. 
She laughed startled.  He growled at her in play and slid his arms under
those pretty thighs pulling that wet flower to his lips.
    Jonathon watched Carson make a chalice of the girl's pelvis.  He
watched Carson's reverence as he drank deeply.  She began to buck against
him, to make her own soft ragged sounds.  Jonathon realised she was
enjoying this.  Part of him wondered, distantly , what 'this' was.  What
was Carson doing with his mouth and face that gave her more pleasure than
the entire exchange between himself and Michelle?  And what was there to
do?  It was a wet hole, a void, nothing to suck or stroke.  Nothing to
account for the fascination on Carson's face.  He watched the tightness in
Carson's muscles increase, the sculpted look they took on as each and every
muscle showed his arousal.  Jonathon wanted to feel that arousal sparking
under his hands as he ran them over Carson's taught muscles.  What was he
doing, lieing on this bed a spectator?  Why must he watch these woman's
thighs locked around Carson's head?
    "Will that be all, Master?"  He said.  His voice was still heavy and
cracked, too rough with desire to betray bitterness.
    Carson looked up surprised.  Jonathon realised he had forgotten he was
there.  Another wave of anger against this woman who consumed his appetite
and attention.  Carson saw Jonathon was aroused again and smiled.  "It
needn't be all, Jon.  She has a mouth too."
    "What?"
    He laughed at Jon's shock.  "Kiss her."
    He had missunderstood again.  Jonathon rolled over so he could reach
her.  He had no choice but to take up Carson's interpretation.  She had at
least offered him some relief.  It  was worth it to be here, next to
Carson's strong naked body. Jonathon kissed Michelle with the passion he
felt for Carson.  Surprisingly she kissed back this time.  He kisses were
quick, and harder than they had been, short gulps at his mouth between
moans. Jonathon felt a shiver run through him as he realised just how close
to Carson he was.  He rolled further over and straddled Michelle's waist. 
Now he could feel Carson's curl's brush against his ass as Michelle
continued to rock.  She cried out as her body spasmed, bringing the two men
even closer together.  Jon felt his own pulse rising.
    Carson put a hand lightly on Jon's shoulder, only to push him out of
the way.  Jonathon moaned, at last.  But then he was on his back next to
Michelle staring up at Carson.  He realised Carson was about to mount her. 
His hand was on his master's bicept.  He slid it over Carson shoulder and
onto his neck.  He pulled Carson down to him, massaging his neck, and
kissed him.  
    MIchelle froze as the two men embraced.  They were grasping desperately
at eachother, mouth's vicously sealed.  She wanted to get up, and walk away
quietly to leave them to this forbidden passion, but she knew one sound,
one movement from her would break the spell.  So she held her breath,
hoping it would last.
    Jonathon was almost weeping at the joy of it.  After all this time, to
finally feel his gorgeous body against his, the muscles under the golden
skin filmed with passion's sweat.  And Carson's abandon, his passion, his
desperation was a match to his own.  It was broken by a stinging slap
across his face.
    Jon looked at the wall away from them.  He tried to at least calm his
breathing.  Carson was sitting up, straddled over him, his balls resting on
Jonathon's cock.  The pain of the blow was nothing, it almost heightened
the  sensual pleasure, but the throbbing in his groin was unbearable.  The
rejection was unbearable.  And as he lay there, struggling to master his
own burning body, the silence, too, was unbearable.  He looked straight up
into Carson's eyes, unable to mask his desire.  His eyes begged Carson to
surrender.  And Carson's eye's grew wide with fear in response.  He slowly
climbed off Jonathon.  Jonathon moved slowly, like a dream.  He pulled on
his pants, took his other clothing folded neatly over one arm like a
wiator's towel, his shoes at his left side, at the end of his hanging arm. 
He bowed slightly.  "With your leave, Master."  It should have been a cool
line.  He should have been inhumanely composed.  Instead he was flushed
with desire, his voice thick with want, his temple's pounded with the sound
of his own inflamed blood rushing by.  Carson watched him dresss, watched
him go, without saying a word, without knowing what to say, or what to do.
    Finally he turned to Michelle.  She had the look of a child who had
walked in on her parents fighting.  "God, what you must be thinking."  He
said quietly.
    "What must I be thinking, master?"
    "That I'm . ." Carson didn't finish.    
    Michelle laughed.  "No, I don't think that.  I know you're not.  You're
too good in bed." She paused.  "Don't be hard on Jonathon."
    "What am I going to do about him?"  
    "leave him be."
    "But how did that happen?  What does it mean?"
    Michelle pulled the masters head into her lap and stroked her fingers
through his hair.  "It's easy to get confused in trio's.  Hard to tell
which hand is whose.  It doesn't mean anything."
    Carson was surprised at her calm.  She was really acting like this
evening had been absolutely ordinary.  She talked casually of 'trios'.  But
then she was an experienced concubine, perhaps it was.  "Doesn't it mean
anything that I was in a trio?"
    "Only that you're human."
    "But I . . "
    "You kissed him?  You enjoyed it?  It doesn't mean anything.  What
would it mean?"  He was very scared.  He was a young boy who had done
something wrong.  He was waiting for mother's pronouncement. "I'm here for
your enjoyment.  And if that means waiting in the outer room and going back
to the servants quarters with tales of our lovemaking to mask jonathon's
disapearance, that's fine, and it's not like its not been done before."
    "You do think I'm gay."
    "No I don't.  But Jonathon is. "



-Morgan