Date: Tue, 06 Nov 2001 16:29:58
From: Ganymede
Subject: Ring Around the Rose, Chapter 11.

The Ring Around the Rose, by Ganymede


WARNING:


This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts
between men and MINOR boys. It is not true! The story is not
intended to promote illegal acts against minors. I do not
condone child abuse, however the love of boys is a different
matter. Despite the prevalent attitudes of western society,
men have loved boys throughout recorded history. It is my goal
to help readers appreciate that love can exist between men
and boys. If the subject of man/boy love offends you, if
this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you
are under the legal age for such material, do not read further!

By downloading this story:

"... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of
perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a
minor and are entitled to have access to material intended
for mature, responsible members of society capable of making
decisions about the content of documents they wish to read...."

Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely
accidental. The sexual acts described in the story are the
result of my imagination. I have not performed these acts, and
I do not encourage others to perform them with minors.

The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede. Copies
have been placed in two archives for your enjoyment.
The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story
cannot be placed in archives that require payment for access, or
printed and distributed in any form that requires payment either
directly or indirectly.


THE COPYRIGHT OF OTHERS:

Throughout the story there are poems and songs by others. I do
not claim this work as my own. These poems and songs are included
within single quotation marks. In some cases, I have modified the
original to suit my purposes. Citations and sources have not been
provided because it would interrupt the story. I appreciate the
efforts of Ianthe, who collected and posted this material.


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FINAL WARNING:

If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in
your place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your
thing, then exit now and save yourself from a life of sin!



The Ring Around the Rose, by Ganymede
Chapter 11.



The matter of 'essence' was one of substance, but it was of
little interest to either Michel or me as we engaged in the act
of love. Although, all reason and my experience with other boys
demanded that I doubt the very possibility of Sandor's claim,
what I felt within Michel could not be denied. The sensation was
utterly divine. No wonder that excretion was claimed to belong to
the gods. What I felt was very different to the lubricity of lard
or grease alone. It was more slippery, sucking loud and very
wetly as I pumped slowly back and forth. What was more, unlike an
artificial lubricant, the mucus that came from Michel's body had
the feel and smell not unlike aquatic slime. Not only that, for
with little difficulty, some potions could be created to induce
the same sensations, but Michel's tight rectum seemed hotter,
much hotter than before. His heat seared my shaft and sealed our
union as my instrument of pleasure expanded inside him to fill
the slick-walled tube to its capacity.

Master Devon was on the third step when he stopped. He
inclined his head and seemed to reconsider whether he should come
up to the Altar. Momentarily, he glanced behind him, studying
Sandor and Kadri with his dark foreboding eyes.

"Perhaps he smells better than he looks," Master Devon
commented dryly. "What Sandor thinks is the juice that comes from
a divine penetration is more than likely what he had for dinner."

There was a ripple of laughter from some of the boys who
were positioned further back. There were perhaps a dozen of them.
I was not surprised that all of them were from the Vulturnus
side, and older boys at that for they tended to be brazen about
sex with other boys.

Encouraged, Master Devon continued unabated. "What was it
that the virgin ate to complete his meal? The suet pudding with
some gooseberry wine perhaps? Not that?" There was more laughter.
"Or what is more than likely, the boy's arse was tenderized with
snot before he came? It would look and feel the same, would it
not?"

"By the gods!" I scowled. "If your nose lacks the sense of
smell then all I can suggest is for you to look between his bum
cheeks and see it for yourself."

"I've no need to look between his legs at the hole beneath
his eggs," Master Devon guffawed, which served to make his feeble
attempt at rhyme even more ridiculous. "You've filled your poor
Favonius boys' heads with tales that do them little good in war,
Master Aidan. Doubtless, you've been telling them other stories
in your bed at night about the juice that is said to flow when a
boy is loved by a God. And I thought you were a mere mortal, like
me?"

"Enough!" the Master interjected. "Of all our rituals and
rites, this ceremony is the most important. It should not be
spoiled for any boy. We have welcomed Michel into our midst."

"I've merely challenged the veracity of a claim," Master
Devon answered devoutly. "That right is mine no matter what rite
is underway."

"Then smell him and let's move on," I said. "I like to
finish what I start."

My retort produced a giggle from nearly every boy except
those who were clearly in another camp. Their faces were sour
unless Master Devon incited them with his vulgar innuendo.

"My nose is not what it once was." Master Devon sniffed and
pretended to test the air. "All I can smell is the stink of shit
and what I presume is a mortal man's ejaculation.

"Then, if you cannot smell it, would you be so good as to
take the boy into the Tomb. The candles there will provide
sufficient light to allow Master Devon to ascertain the point of
fact for himself, Master Aidan," the Master countered.

The candles he referred to were in an alcove adjacent to the
High Altar. This alcove was a sacred place, and bore the name of
an ancient boy whose body lay in a stone sarcophagus, above which
were placed the candles. There were ninety-six candles arranged
in eight tiers of twelve. Each candle was as large as my forearm
and made of beeswax. These flickering yellow lights symbolized
the boys, each a burning light. That the candles were placed
above a boy who was renowned for his great beauty, made the
mythology of ancient Greece become real for every man and boy
upon the Mount.

I nodded curtly to the Master and scooped my arms around
Michel. Although I was becoming tired from our strenuous rutting,
his weight was not exhausting. He assisted by wrapping his legs
around my pelvis, keeping my penis fully implanted in his behind
as we carefully descended from the dais one more time.

There was a rule that virgin boys could not enter the Tomb
of Endymion, but for Michel, his virginity no longer precluded
his admission. He had joined the Order and had gained the right
to enter. So, after pausing momentarily to show respect for all
those boys who had gone ahead, I carried Michel between the
guardian columns. Each guardian was carved from alabaster marble,
and like the caryatids of ancient Greece, its form was of human
origin. However, these columns were paired, a man standing behind
a boy. They were joined by a stone phallus.

Michel's eyes widened when he observed that detail for the
size of it denied the capacity of a boy's anatomy. The phallus
was extremely large, and if Michel had crouched down on his hands
and knees to inspect he would have seen that the boy's belly,
buttocks and thighs swelled out because of it. Indeed, his own
buttocks were not much different where they swelled around my
skewered shaft.

Compared to the Chapel, the light of the candles provided
both heat and light that was startling. Michel's slender body
glowed even more golden in the light. His hair shone with
sparkles that I had only ever seen in daylight. Indeed, it
glistened with such brilliance that it seemed to be on fire. Not
merely blond, but brighter. It took my breath away, and even more
so because Michel smiled radiantly. Not for the first time I
mused that I was in the company of a god, a boy god whose face
alone could inspire divine intervention. Surely, if the great
god, Jupiter could lust after Ganymede so much that he would turn
himself into an eagle to bear the boy off, he would go to even
greater lengths to get his hands upon Michel. However, what I
feared more than a god was a mortal man who took advantage of
Michel.

"What is this place?" Michel whispered in awe.

"This is the resting place of Endymion," I answered.

Behind us, the Master had entered. Beside him stood Sandor
for his word had been challenged as much as mine. Next to Sandor
was Master Devon, still scowling and evidently quite upset.

"Oh!" Michel ignored them. He moved his head from side to
side and looked around him.

The mosaics were exceptional and equal to any work that I
had seen during my travels. They were made of tiny pieces of
polished semi-precious stone--jasper, agate, obsidian, malachite,
and azurite. There were three murals that depicted events from
the legendary life of a boy who had been loved by the Gods and
mortal man. All three of the mosaics had an abundance of naked
men and boys in copulating ecstasy. Michel giggled. In that way,
he was no different to every boy who had entered into that
hallowed place.

"Look at that!" Michel said in awe as he gazed at a detailed
mural of a boy, his body bent in the middle and hanging from a
man's powerful grip as his bowels were plundered by a penis of
excessive size. "I didn't know you could do it that way!"

"Well, you've only just started to learn the art of making
love," I smiled. "There are ninety-six positions in all that you
must learn as ways to take a cock, Michel. However, that
position, called the 'Hanging Butterfly' is really not that
unusual. As you can see, the boy is being lifted onto it. It's
quite easily done, but that position has the end result that my
penis will barely reach your special place."

"Oh! Well even though I love your cock exactly where it is
right now, I still want to try it anyway," Michel grinned.

"You should have no fear on that account because we will
surely do that as part of your training," I replied.

Michel turned back to the gaze at the opposite wall,
oblivious to the audience behind him. That mural illustrated the
gift of Jupiter, although it was apparent that the boy had not
fallen asleep. Each end of the beautiful boy was split wipe open,
containing an organ of considerable tumescence, his anus by the
divinity, his mouth by someone mortal.

"That's not possible," Michel smirked. "There's no way that
a boy could be held up like that. Even a cock as big and hard as
yours couldn't lift a boy completely off the ground. Could it?"
he added awkwardly.

"Hm,.... We'll see before much longer," I teased. "I dare
say that they had a job to hold him up."

"You'd better pump Michel a bit and get his juices running,"
Sandor smirked. "I want to prove to Master Devon that I'm right.
Michel's bum is drooling because Master Aidan's the best fuck on
the Mount."

"Sandor, that's quite uncalled for," the Master rebuked.
"There are other men here who are his equal."

With that rebuke in my ears, I lifted Michel up, withdrawing
my penis for the breadth of a hand before I stopped. It was not
enough to separate us, but Michel could feel the imminence of my
parting. He groaned, tensing his inner muscles to keep me deep
inside him. That delightful squeeze was sufficient to make a
tremble run through both of us. Lovingly, I eased him back down
again, flexing my penis as it speared upward and back into him.
Michel shuddered as it jerked and pulsed against his hidden
gland. When he was fully seated, I gently brushed my lips to his
forehead and hugged him tightly. Then again, up and down, slowly
stroking my engorged cock through the delicate membrane of his
rectum. The squelching sound seemed a little louder. Up and down,
a little further, lifting Michel up until my glans was almost
outside him. After a half-dozen thrusts he had relaxed his
sphincter muscle and a sudden burst from inside him squirted
wetness down my penis.

I stopped moving and held him tightly, lingering in the
bliss of our union. It was impossible to be any closer to Michel
than this. His anus flexed and quivered around my penis, exerting
the most delicious sensations and eliciting a sigh from me. We
breathed together, inhaling deeply, sharing our thoughts of love
together. For no reason at all, I wondered whether I would ever
return to the Sanctuary with Michel, or would I keep him for
myself.

"I know the God Jupiter loved boys, for I have heard the
tale of Ganymede, but whose what's his name,... Endy-men or
whatever you said?" Michel asked during the pause in our
lovemaking.

"Ah, Endymion. Some say that he was the most beautiful boy
of all. For boys like him, pederasty was invented," the Master
answered.

Michel gave the Master an amused look. "I know that's the
love between men and boys. It's from the Greek, paed and rast,
which means boy and love. But how could someone invent it? Didn't
it always exist?"

I chuckled. "I didn't know you had studied Greek, Michel."

"There's lots of things you don't know. I'm full of
surprises," Michel giggled.

"Enough time has been wasted." Master Devon pushed against
me. "Get the brat closer to the light and let us prove this one
way or the other."

I carried Michel three paces until I felt the heat of the
candles against our bare bodies. I placed him in position, head
down. His elbows and knees were on the stone floor, and his
buttocks were uplifted and ready for my entry. This was the
position that the boys jokingly referred as being taken in the
"Doggie Style", but which was properly called "the Bridge of
Love".

The little yellow fires burned steadily, but suddenly they
flared and became even brighter as if to honor Michel's much
closer presence. His body was illuminated until it glowed like
molten copper-a dazzling hue of gold and amber. His hair
glistened as if on fire. The mosaics sparkled and glowed and
glittered, emitting a thousand radiant beams of light. It was
truly a remarkable sight and to my lust-filled eyes, it seemed as
if Michel had been ignited by love and was being consumed by fire
that had no equal. In my excitement, I kneeled behind him and
promptly resumed my love making, using slow deep strokes that
were gauged to stir his juices to a steady flow. In the 'Bridge
of Love' position, a man could accomplish both depth and speed
with little hindrance from the boy who was before him. I applied
my energy to the task at hand, yet kept my strength in reserve
for later on. The words of the poet filled my head, as
appropriate for Michel as they had been for Endymion.



'...The sleeping kine

Couched in thy brightness dream of fields divine.

Innumerable mountains rise, and rise,

Ambitious for the hallowing of thine eyes,

And yet thy benediction passeth not

    One obscure hiding-place, one little spot

    Where pleasure may be sent.'



The candles flared once again, this time brighter, expelling
a brilliant light that made shadows dance across the walls. It
had the aura of an eternal fire, a fire that never died, and like
the sleeping Endymion, never aged but stayed perfectly beautiful
for all time.

"A sign!" the Master cried. Clearly, the unexpected burst of
light had surprised him in some unknown way.

"I fear we have disturbed the spirit's rest," I remarked
jovially as I pumped away into Michel's slackened and oozing
bowels.

"Were it so simple, Aidan. This miracle cannot be denied.
The Oracle is right once again. Can't you see?"

"See what?" I intoned. I gazed at Michel, stunned by his
awe-inspiring beauty. "The beauty of Endymion has found its equal
in Michel?"

"It's FIRE!" the Master answered with wide-open eyes. "The
Oracle! It had confused me until now."

"The Oracle? What Oracle?" Master Devon demanded.

"First on Earth. Next in Air. Then consumed by Fire," Sandor
said softly. "Until their love is quenched by water."

His tone was flat as if he was announcing the most obvious
fact, or in a daze. Nonetheless, the Master spun around and
stared at Sandor, his whitened face revealing the extent of his
shock. He was dumbfounded and a long period passed before a
single word could pass his lips. Sandor had repeated word for
word, an ancient text. I stopped pistoning in and out and, with
my penis more than halfway in, held Michel tightly to me as I
considered what I should do. He squirmed around and settled down,
spreading his buttocks wide and pressing onto my penis so that my
glans was positioned where he needed it to be. I felt his inner
muscles straining. Like an older and experienced boy, he was
forcing his prostate to meet my penis head-on.

"How?" the Master inhaled heavily, trying to catch his
breath. Suddenly, the words poured out in startled rush. "Where
did you hear those words?" he demanded. "It's important that you
tell me everything you know, Sandor."

Sandor shrugged absently, then realizing the words contained
far greater significance than was evident to him, he backed away.
"I read them on a wall," he murmured.

"A wall? What wall? Where did you read the words?" the
Master insisted.

"Um,... ah,... I,... I don't remember," Sandor muttered,
guiltily avoiding the Master's concentrated stare.

"Sandor, this is important. I promise I won't be angry
because of anything you say. All I want to know is where you read
the words."

"I-I-I forget," Sandor blurted out. "It was some time ago."

"Please try to remember, my boy. A lot depends on what
you've read," the Master explained.

Sandor hesitated. He clenched his hands, then relaxed,
relenting as he did so. "You won't be angry with us?" he
ascertained.

I smiled, more than curious to know what secret was at
stake. I did not like the inquisition, but it was inappropriate
to intervene in a matter that was so clearly of great concern to
the Master. It was not difficult to imagine that Sandor and more
than likely Kadri too, had been somewhere where they should not
have been. The Master also acknowledged Sandor's uncertainty with
a nod.

"Neither will I be angry with Kadri," he added gently. "I
must know what you've read."

"I,... we,.... Kadri and I,... we sometimes go into the
tower,... at night." Sandor paused there uncomfortably. It was
evident that he had a tale to tell, but was very reluctant to
continue.

I was amused as I mused about what had mystified me for the
last three weeks. At night, Kadri would disappear, returning to
his bed only when the first gray light of dawn could be seen in
the east. When I glimpsed his bare body during his ablutions it
was apparent that he had been having sex, but it was only on
those two nights when he slept with me that I realized he had
been subjected to an instrument of pleasure of quite stupendous
size for his opening was easily dilated. It would have been
natural to assume that he sought pleasure in another man's bed,
yet the indications, or lack of bruising therein, suggested he
had not.

"Please continue," the Master instructed patiently.

Sandor's eyes flickered. Only for an instant had he glanced
at Master Devon. However, it was enough to communicate that he
did not wish to explain further with that man present. Still
holding Michel's thighs, I backed away.

"Perhaps we should complete the matter that brought us into
the Endymion's resting place in the first place," I interrupted.
"Sandor's adventures at night should wait until later. Surely you
can find out what you want to know before tomorrow."

The Master's eyes shifted to the side to meet mine, and
after a moment, moved away. "You're right, Aidan. Tonight is
Michel's night. Can you validate Sandor's claim so that we can
dispense with the question of veracity?"

I eased Michel away by releasing my grip upon his back so
that while we were still joined groin to buttocks, his posterior
was a much greater distance away from my chest and belly. In that
position it was possible to see between us. My penis, what little
there was to be seen of it, was coated in a shiny slime. Some of
it formed tiny amber lumps while the rest was transparent and
foamy where it had been gathering for quite some time. There was
no question of what it was in my mind even though I had never
experienced the excretion for myself. The Master, Sandor, and
Master Devon moved closer, bowing their heads to inspect the
evidence.

"It's snot," Master Devon proclaimed loudly. "Nothing but
the mucus from a runny nose."

"It's not snot!" Sandor argued. "Can't you see it's coming
from his hole?"

"It's the wrong color! It's far too white."

"What color is it supposed to be?," Sandor demanded.

The Master answered. "I've never heard of it being anything
but the color of uncooked egg-white."

"See! Like I said, it's snot."

"That proves naught. Besides, it's no wonder that it's
whiter than it's supposed to be. Miel's bum is full of Master
Aidan's spunk. Anyone can see it's dribbling down both of his
legs."

Master Devon harrumphed. He wrinkled his nose as it the odor
was unpleasant to him. To my nose the smell was sweet, a heady
but vibrant perfume that increased my lust. It was a scent that
was unfamiliar to me, although it was most definitely Michel's
smell.

"Nonsense, complete and utter nonsense. It's disgusting how
low some Favonius boys will sink to draw attention to themselves.
He must think everyone will want to fuck him if he excretes the
juice of Ganymede."

"That's enough, Master Devon." The Master continued to
concentrate on the slime that had accumulated between Michel's
buttocks. "Might I try a test of a different sort."

"By all means," Master Devon replied begrudgingly.

"I wasn't asking you," the Master said dryly. "Master Aidan,
would you mind if I felt between you and Michel to ascertain the
substance that is in dispute?"

I shrugged, yielding permission for yet another invasion of
our privacy. Michel's eyes closed and he turned his head away and
stared into the flagstone floor when the Master's hand dropped
down and explored between us. His hands touched my penis where it
exited from Michel's bottom, then rubbed around in the furrow
between the boy's small firm cheeks. His hand drew back, his
fingers streaked with a mucus-like substance. He held his fingers
to his nose and sniffed, inclined his head, and thought. Then,
deliberately he placed his fingers in his mouth.

"Ah, a tasty treat," he said after licking his fingers
clean. "Quite an unusual flavor, isn't it. Not at all like egg-
white. One might say it's sweet in fact. Almost astounding
considering the source."

"You're saying,...." Master Devon fumed. His face reddened
and he stared at Michel angrily.

"Yes, I am. However, it merely confirms something that I've
known all along. He's a very special boy," the Master continued.
"Master Devon, if I were you, I should not surprised by this.
Only a boy as beautiful as Michel could be so honored by the
smell of fish."

"The smell of fish?" Master Devon said angrily. He pushed
forward, almost knocking Sandor out of the way. "What smell?"

"This smell," the Master replied. He held up his hand. A
strand of amber-tinted mucus strung between two fingers. "Yes, I
must say, it's really quite surprising!"

Master Devon snorted. "Such nonsense. This is nonsense, even
from you Master. Why should this boy, of any of them be so
rewarded? And another thing. What is this Oracle you refer to?"

I glared at the Master, still poised mid-stroke. I did not
think it wise for him to talk of the mission we were to begin the
following day. He caught my eye and nodded slightly.

"It is nothing that concerns you, Master Devon. It's merely
an ancient tale about a boy who excreted the divine juice."

"That hardly qualifies as an oracle, at least not one of any
significance."

Master Devon growled from deep in his chest. I wondered how
many boys found him to be a worthy companion in their beds. If I
was a boy and had to chose, he would be the last person I wanted
to mount me. Just the thought of his unshaven chin rubbing
against my skin turned my stomach. He looked as if he followed
the tradition of some masters by only bathing once a week.
Indeed, it had been experience with the youngest Favonius boys
that they much preferred a man to be clean-skinned and closely
shaved, as smooth and hairless as themselves.

"Well you've kept him waiting long enough, Master Aidan.
Finish him off with rapid strokes," Sandor chirped gleefully.
"You're in the position to pump him hard."

The Master and I both laughed for it exactly what was needed
to complete the act. Hard and fast usually brought a boy to the
pinnacle of love. It was becoming very hot in front of the
burning candles. I partially closed my eyes and concentrated on
Michel's pleasure. His body writhed and shuddered as the spasms
grew in intensity. His voice was garbled, insisting that I go
even faster, deeper, harder, than seemed humanly possible. I
churned Michel's insides to jelly with my energetic thrusts,
until my perspiring thighs slapped loudly against his legs, and
his flanks trembled with each powerful inward drive.

Most men take their boys with too much force, others hold
back and resort to vapid strokes, a few manage to get it just
right. In my experience the trick was to keep the boy on the very
edge for as long as possible once he had loosened up. For Michel,
I was quickly discovering that this involved a mix of fast and
slow, hard and gentle, shallow and deep. He thrived on variety. I
took him ever way I could without shifting to a different
position, for that would disturb the rhythm of our bodies. I took
him gently, sometimes barely moving. At other times, I thrusted
with mechanical precision against his inner gland, and when the
urge was strong, I strained and pounded with all my energy,
wildly plunging from head to hilt so that he screamed in
shameless ecstasy.

The audience was not bored. Many of the boys crowded into
the Tomb. Those who could not fit, draped themselves around the
columns, peered across the sea of heads, and a few even clambered
onto their friends' shoulders to witness the spectacle.

"He's going to be really sore when the sun comes up," Kadri
smirked.

He had wormed his way through the crowd until he found a
place next to Michel. He stood on the plinth behind the rows of
candles, his pretty face illuminated to show his jubilation. He
reveled in Michel's unbridled joy, that now unleashed to all and
sundry, would know no end until I was finished.

"Not nearly as sore as he's going to be before he sleeps,"
Sandor added knowledgeably. "There's still one more to go after
this."

Again the Master lifted a curious eyebrow and inclined his
head. However, with everyone so near, he knew better than to ask
the question in his mind. He stepped back to allow the boys to
view their brother's sodomy. I pumped away, furiously, then slow,
or so slow that Michel pleaded and begged for more. His voice was
stressed, trembling like his body. I had never had the experience
of a boy who lost control of his bladder, yet Michel did. He
strained down so hard that his bodily functions gave way. A
stream of yellow urine trickled from his penis, dribbled down his
legs. Then gaining strength, I heard it splattering golden
droplets upon the mosaic floor. A puddle formed beneath my feet,
running into the tiny cracks between the pieces of stone that
formed the ornate sheep that legend said belonged to Endymion.

"I can't help it," Michel whimpered. "It just keeps
dribbling out."

I caressed his flanks gently and crooned in his ear that he
should have no shame, that the other boys were envious of his
skill, that I was proud of him. I even dared to whisper the words
that were seldom spoken on the Mount, let alone within the
confines of the Chapel. My declaration of deep and enduring love
seemed to calm him for a while. Yet, he was still highly strung,
taking each breath in a sudden gasp. Each time my penis pounded
into him, he exhaled as if the air had been brutally forced from
his lungs. Knowing that Michel was close to exhaustion made me
finish rapidly. Faster. Faster. Faster than any man has fucked a
boy, I used his anus as if it had never known another purpose.
All the boys became quiet. Even the ribald comments died away.
Sandor and Kadri stared, beleaguered as much as jealous by what
they saw. They had both been mounted only a month before so their
memories were very strong. Compared to Michel's initiation,
theirs had been perfunctory and devoid of emotion. This was love
of a very different sort.

Without warning the shudders came, his burning body
clenching down to grasp my thrusting sex until it was all that I
could do to move it back and forth inside his bowels. So hot, so
incredibly, unbelievably hot, that he seemed on fire. Sweat
poured from him. It left rivulets down his back and chest, beaded
on his breast so that his flesh glistened. From his mouth came a
distorted sound. He shrieked loudly as he soared to the very
summit of human joy, quickly becoming so frenzied in his motion
that one could easily conclude that he was in the throes of some
terrible agony, or worse inhabited by a demon of horrendous
intent. He bucked and writhed and nearly threw me to the side,
yet I rode him unabated, knowing that he would thank me when I
was done.

My Michel had been on the brink of orgasm for so long that
when it finally came, he fainted. I did not know it at the time.
I ploughed his unconscious furrow, panting hard, my penis
throbbing as my ejaculation spilled into him and merged with the
juices that were already there.

"Oh Michel! So good, Michel! So good! This is for you, my
beautiful boy!" I gasped before I finally slumped back.

I hugged my Michel to me and collapsed in the fatigue that
followed such a powerful orgasm. Had it been as good for him as
it had been for me? I hoped so. He had climaxed only seconds
before me, but unlike the other times, on this occasion his body
had stopped moving. There were no twitches, trembles, or sighs of
contentment. He was silent as if in a trance. Then, with the
certain knowledge that I had inflicted a terrible injury upon
Michel, I nervously extricated my penis. I hoped that I would not
see blood. It is possible, though seldom done upon the Mount, for
a man to rupture a boy if he is not careful. While the hemorrhage
usually ceased within moments of removing the cause, it could be
very serious when a man was as well endowed as I was. I so
dreaded the possibility of hurting Michel that I dared not look
down. Uncertainly, I glanced to the side. The Master nodded in
approval and partially closed his eyes to indicate that Michel
had found relief in that comatose state. My relief was audible as
I sighed and lovingly caressed his moistened back. Beside him,
Kadri and Sandor were dumbfounded with wide eyes.

Taking their astonishment as reason that I should look, I
cautiously lifted Michel's rump up and peered between his cheeks.
There was nothing to be worried about. His hole was as large as
any boy that I had ever seen, but even that amount of dilation
would be gone before the morning came. There was a reddened
circle of startling size that was centered on his anus. It
stretched from the end of his scrotum back to his tailbone.
Indeed, the extremity could be seen even when his cheeks were
pressed to together. Michel would have a rose of such magnitude
that he would be the envy of almost every boy upon the Mount.

"Do you think I hurt him?" I asked, still worried that
Michel had not regained his senses.

"Don't fear for him. I've seen it happen often enough before
when a boy is taken in the Bridge of Love. Your cock has added
magnitude for a boy when he is positioned like that. He'll wake
soon," the Master said consolingly. "A little water on the face
is usually enough to bring him back."

"His body is very hot," I observed. "He's sweating as if
there is a fever in him."

"In a way, there is, or rather I should say, there was," the
Master said with a smile. "I expect the heat was too much for
him. You produced quite an inferno with your passion."

It's raining outside. Perhaps I'd better take him to the
balcony and cool him down," I mused aloud.

"Earth, Air, Fire, and,... Water," Sandor said loud enough
for those men and boys who were close to him to hear.

Again the Master stared at him, but instead of querying, he
smiled. "Yes, of course. That's right, Sandor. It's exactly as it
should be! Earth, Air, Fire, Water! I had not thought of the
words like that, but it's true."

I wanted to say that I had no intention of making love to
Michel a fourth and final time outside in the rain. However, all
of sudden, I realized that was exactly what I would do. It was
predestined. All that had transpired so far between us were
merely steps along the way. However, what would follow, I had no
idea.

While I rested, cradling Michel's inert body to my chest, I
was oblivious to those men and boys who were around us. I thought
only of Michel, of the things we had done to together during the
last three weeks. I remembered how he had nursed me back to
health and taken it upon himself to warm my body and my bed.

I remembered vaguely, the morning when he first arrived,
escorting him into the tower to witness the making of Kadri's
rose; and the day that I had ventured down onto the sands and
watched the boys play their game. How often had Michel and I
played other games? The games during the day were different to
the games we played at night.

I brushed his cheeks, then dabbed the corner of Kadri's
tunic across his forehead to wipe away the sweat. I stroked the
silky hair at the nape of his neck, twisting my fingers in the
locks behind his ears. So soft! Only the night before we had very
close to penetration. Had I been tempted by Michel a moment
longer, I would not have survived. Now, the issue was moot. His
virginity was gone. Lost. Departed. Innocence ceased to exist.

Michel's eyes fluttered open, weakly appraising the sight
and sound around him. He tried to focus, to concentrate on what
he sensed, yet for quite a while his gaze was of otherworldly
things. He blinked, and slowly opened his lips. His tongue licked
tentatively, tasting the saltiness of his perspiration.

"I'm hot," he whined absently. Then, his eyes met mine.
Memory returned sufficiently that he possessed a vague awareness
of where he was and the last thing that he was doing. "What
happened?" he asked softly. Did I fall asleep?"

"Asleep? Hardly! No Michel, you fainted at the very end."

"I fainted? I feel hot, Master Aidan. So hot,... as if I've
been burned all over."

"I'm not surprised. You made love as if a fire raged inside
you," I explained with a teasing grin. "It was quite a show you
put on for your friends."

Michel accepted that and smiled back at me with blissful
eyes. He raised his hand to his brow and wiped away the beads of
moisture that had formed there since I had wiped him dry. He
brought the tips of his fingers to his lips and touched them to
his tongue.

Holding Michel's limp body tightly, I carefully clambered to
my feet. Automatically, his legs wrapped around my waist, locking
his ankles behind my back. With little difficulty my penis
slipped between his cheeks and penetrated just far enough that it
would not fall out when we started to move. His hole, and the
canal beyond was very loose, oozing fluid from both of us.
Slowly, I began to walk. The boys and men who had gathered around
the entrance to the Tomb, parted to make way for us. They paid
homage to the recently deflowered virgin by scattering red rose
petals where I trod.

"I can feel him inside me," Michel noted with a giggle.
"Only he's not as big and hard as he was before."

"A temporary issue and nothing for you to have concern
about, my Honey," I remarked.

"Will it always be like this after I've been mounted, Master
Aidan." Michel asked curiously.

"Like how?"

"Well, for one thing, it feels like you've turned my bum to
mush," he smirked.

"Hah! That will depend on how often we've made love," I
answered with a grin. "Just once a night and you'll just be loose
until you fall asleep. Two times and you'll know it when you
poop, and after three times you have to expect a mess."

"And you'll be sore in the morning," Kadri interjected as he
stepped into his self-assigned place to the right and just behind
us. "So sore you won't want to walk."

"But not so sore that you'll not want him to do it yet
again," Sandor taunted. "You Favonius boys are all the same," he
added as he partnered Kadri by walking on my left.

Sandor's comment provoked a few laughs from the boys who
were close enough to hear. Whether of Vulturnus or Favonius, all
of them appreciated what he said. Any boy who lived upon the
Mount possessed a strong desire to be mounted, but for a Favonius
boy the ever-present and overpowering need to fill the void
within their bodies was entirely natural and not a reason to be
ashamed. Fortunately, nature had balanced the orders. For every
boy who preferred to lie upon his back and offer his anus to
provide another's pleasure, there was a Vulturnus, a man or boy,
who was equally prepared to mount him and ride until they were
both exhausted.

"I don't mind. I like doing it," Michel responded as much to
me as to his best friends. He smiled happily. "It feels so big
inside me, Master Aidan. I can feel it moving back and forth when
you walk.."

"Yes, I expect you do."

I passed between the guardian columns, pressing Michel's hot
and naked body to my chest. His flesh was flushed, glowing with
the heat of lust. Michel giggled as once again, he observed the
magnitude of the stone phallus.

"Is that one big enough to keep a boy in line?" I teased.

"It's huge," Michel agreed with a giggle. "But I'd rather
have one of human flesh, like yours."

"Ha! Tell that to your friends when they go to the cave and
employ the tusks of ivory for pleasuring their holes," I laughed.

"I'll not do that again," Michel proclaimed. "So long as
you're around to fill my bowels with this," he added with a
playful squeeze between his cheeks. "Will he get hard again
before the night is out?"

I gave Michel a querying look, as if to ask why he would be
interested in the state of my erection when I had already filled
his bottom three times that night. He giggled and lowered his
head to lie upon my shoulder. There, where no one else could hear
his whisper, I heard his answer.

"I love you, Master Aidan, and I want you to love me back as
often as you can. I will live to serve your every wish, but
remember what I said before? Four is my lucky number."

"Lucky?" I scoffed and patted his tender buttocks with my
hand. "You don't need to resort to numerology, sweet boy of mine.
Don't even speak of luck when you need to fuck. While the need is
still inside you, I will mount you." I brought my face close to
his. In a conspiratorial voice I added, "Our love has been
unrequited for much too long."

"Where are we going?" Michel asked when I stopped before the
oaken door. "Doesn't this door lead outside?"

I nodded, drew Michel even closer, and waited until the
bolts were thrown back. The hinges were elaborate wrought iron,
derived from spirals interwoven with a phallic shape. The hinges
creaked as the thick door slowly swung out. A gust of bitterly
cold wind entered through the gap, swirling the dust about my
feet. The air was moist and droplets of water splattered against
my legs.

"Are we going outside?" Michel asked uncertainly. I nodded
in response. "Is it part of the initiation rite?"

"In your case, yes. However, I know of no other boy who was
mounted in the rain on his night of initiation."

Michel accepted that. He clung tightly to me as I stepped
across the stone threshold into the darkness beyond. Outside, the
cold wetness enveloped us. I shivered as the wind scrapped across
my skin and the rain struck me with such force that I was
startled. It felt like shards of ice.

"By the Gods, it's cold," I thought aloud. "Are you all
right, Michel?" I asked.

He shivered and nodded his head abruptly. "Even my father
was not this cold," he joked.

It was not the first time that Michel had spoken of his
father, but increasingly his comments were becoming very cynical
of the man who sired him. My first thought was that hatred was
building within the boy I loved. Certainly, his father had given
him cause for hatred, but I feared that a deeper problem loomed
within his mind.

He gripped me with his thighs, squeezing to bring us even
closer together. My arms wrapped around his body, one beneath his
buttocks, the other around his shoulders.

"Hold the candle higher," the Master urged. "They'll need to
hurry or they'll soon be chilled. I expect he'll need to get the
boy completely wet for the Oracle to be completed. However, I
don't want them to freeze to death"

A rivulet streamed from a gargoyle, a lichen-blackened
stone-spigot overhead. I stepped into the gushing flow, mindful
that I would have to be very quick about it. The water splashed
over my shoulders, soaking my head, and Michel's too. He
whimpered, shaking uncontrollably. There was one position that
seemed appropriate. This was the position that most men used with
boys who were accustomed to being loved. It entailed Michel lying
on his back with his knees by his ears and his feet upon my
shoulders. In this way, he held me up while my weight held him
down, and my full strength could be applied to his exposed hole.
Was he ready for the "Shining Eyes"? In jest, the boys called it
the 'Horny Toad'. Why it deserved a name like that, I was
uncertain, but it had always been so among the boys.

So I mounted Michel for the fourth and final time after
having placed him in position on his back where I could see his
eyes. Obviously from the wretched expression on his face he was
far from comfortable. The grass was cold and wet, and the pointed
ends were like shards of glass against my knees. I resumed the
position of honor, kneeling close behind him. It needed but a
little effort to slid my penis into him. He sighed, his eyes
glistening as he gazed up at me in amazement that penetration
could be so easy. No wonder the position was acclaimed as
"Shining Eyes." In this position, a boy discovered the limits of
happiness and his eyes shone with the thrill of being alive.

"Oh! Oh! Oh, I don't believe. Master Aidan? Oh! It feels
so,... so big. Uh, Unnnnnghhhh!" Michel grunted.

By then, my penis had bottomed out. I could feel Michel's
rectum. Alive and moving with a life of its own. Hot grasping
tissue slackening quickly as his bowels were stretched around my
shaft. His head flopped to the side, his eyes askew for quite a
while until the shock passed and he was able to accept what had
suddenly become a part of him again. Finally, he managed a deep
breath.

"Oh it feels so big inside me. It's all the way?" he
murmured uncertainly.

I nodded. A single thrust was all it took. Few boys could
manage that before their second year upon the Mount.

"Push back with your feet, Michel," I instructed. "Take my
weight and it will feel even better."

He tried, his small bare feet pressing hard against my
shoulders. He pushed hard enough that his buttocks lifted up,
forced his buttocks even harder against my groin and pushed his
anus even further onto my penis. His little opened ring slid so
far down that it almost seemed as if my testicles would go inside
as well. Then almost as soon as the stroke was completed, I
pulled back and withdrew my snake.

"Push again, my Honey," I said without offering a word of
praise. There would be time for that later on. Now, Michel was
beginning to shiver as water streamed across his chest.

"I'm trying," Michel cried. "I'm cold, Master Aidan."

"I know my darling boy. But push hard, again and again. Yes,
that's right. Do that! It's easier when you're no longer tight.
It's going all the way inside you every time."

Again I withdrew all the way, but kept my penis where it had
to be to meet Michel's uplifting thrust. My penis slammed back
inside his body, sliding without hesitation until it could go no
further. He gritted his teeth and began to work with as much as
against me. It was hard work for both of us. Love-making had
become a test of endurance.

The wind howled around my back and icy crystals stung my
flesh. Fortunately, I provided some protection for Michel from
the worst of it. However, there was little that I could do to
stem the water that streamed from the gargoyle. It soaked him
even more than me.

"Earth, Air, Fire,.... And this," I groaned.

It was damnably cold. Not even the heat from Michel could
keep me warm. When my sex pulled free, the sudden blast of cold
was enough to make me shriek. Each time I plunged back into his
heated bowels I groaned with relief. Michel begged me, pleaded
for more, as every boy does when the moment of climax begins to
draw near. I was very near to the point of exhaustion, but I
dared not stop. To do so would mean losing momentum, and we were
so close, so very close that just a few more strokes would seal
our love again.

Michel wailed, gurgled, whimpered as if in pain. However,
the pain was joy, and joy was ecstasy, and we were getting nearer
with every stroke. Despite the cold, he suddenly struggled and
writhed beneath me. My penis, already flushed grew even hotter,
harder. I gasped for air, desperately longing to finish. Our
bodies were slamming together with more vigor than seemed humanly
possible. And then apart, but not for long. The climax surged
within me, descending upon me with frightening intensity.

Michel's mouth opened in a silent scream. His struggles
became more frantic, gagging when he tried to breath. His feet
kicked at me, thrusting out as he shrieked at the very pinnacle
of human elation. After this, he would know no higher pleasure.

I ejaculated, barely excreting more than a few droplets of
milky seed. I toppled onto Michel and his legs flopped down. His
rectum was quivering feebly in the final jerks of orgasm.
Michel's eyes slowly closed, still shining but in the bliss that
followed.

"That's four," I whispered as much to Michel as to myself.

"Did you see it?"

Sandor's voice came from behind me. Startled, I turned
around.

"See what?" I asked breathlessly.

"The dragon!" Kadri answered.

"What? What are you talking about? A dragon you said?"

Both Sandor and Kadri nodded eagerly. Unlike the other men
and boys who had chosen to remain inside the Chapel, the two boys
had ventured outside into the bitter rain. At one time, I thought
I loved them nearly as much as one other, but not now. From now
on, Michel would consume my every thought. Through every moment
of the day and night I would love him. Not even in my dreams
would I be able to share my life with anyone else. That was how
much I loved Michel.

"It came from there," Sandor said with a gesture towards the
southern sky.

"It was huge, Master Aidan."

"It was green and scaly, I think."

"It was like a serpent from the Underworld."

They were very excited, as only boys can be when they have
seen a strange and frightening sight. However, it was possible
that their 'dragon' could be something else. A low cloud,
perhaps. A gust of wind? More than likely it was a figment of
their overactive imaginations. Still, I scanned the skies. There
was nothing to be seen.

"Calm down, boys," I said patiently. "If there was a dragon,
it's gone for now. Let's take this a bit at time. We'll talk
about indoors too, before we are frozen and cannot move."

"I saw it too," Michel whispered.


END VOLUME ONE