Date: Thu, 02 Aug 2001 17:24:00
From: Ganymede
Subject: Ring Around the Rose, Chapter 8

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:

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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. A copy
has been placed in the Nifty 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 Eight. Roses in the Dark.



A dozen boys followed me, keeping close behind as we went back
up the stairs. It was both amusing and gratifying to hear them
chattering happily among themselves. Most of the talk was about
what had happened on the sands. It sounded as if all of them had
learned a valuable lesson that day, although there a few boys for
whom it seemed the lesson would have to be repeated, so ingrained
was the training they had already received. However, as we neared
the halfway point on that arduous ascent, all of the boys became
quiet. In muted whispers they discussed the hidden cavern and its
special function. The question that concerned them more than any
other was whether I would allow them to go inside. From my youth,
I well remembered that there were always a few masters who for
one reason or another, restricted the time that boys spent in the
company of their friends. Without more basis than their frequent
and furtive whispers, I suspected that Master Aleyn was among the
first in line to keep the youngest boys from doing what boys did
together to discover themselves.

I was not surprised therefore, when I felt a small anonymous
hand tug urgently upon my cloak. Whoever he was, he would learn
in time that for those few things that were reserved for boys
alone, as far as I was concerned, a boy did not need to ask. I
gestured my approval and patted his head. He had soft hair, and
by the feel, quite long. From that I presumed that one of the
older boys had either been assigned or had assumed the task of
getting my permission. I gave them more than permission for I
handed over the candle that I carried. In the flickering light of
my taper, I watched them disappear one by one into the narrow
breach into the rock. I wondered if I could fit even while I
resisted the almost overpowering impulse to try to squeeze my
body through the opening to join them.

However, while I could not join them, there was nothing to
stop me from looking and listening. I took up a position close to
the constricted opening and waited. It was not long before a
taper was lighted. It flared and flickered and then illuminated a
dozen naked boys who stood around in a circle with candles of
their own. In turn they lit the wicks and then the circle parted
with eight of the boys scattering to the darker recesses of the
cave. Needless to say, Michel and Kadri went together, coming
close to where I sat. They were accompanied by Kiann and Albie. I
smiled. It seemed as if the two youngest boys would learn
something from the two oldest boys before the afternoon was done.

"Do you know what this band is used for, Michel?" Kiann asked.

He sounded gleeful and rather proud that he possessed
knowledge that was denied to the youngest boy of the group. As he
posed the question, Kiann deliberately pointed down between his
legs, his extended finger touching the flap of wrinkled skin that
was gathered beneath a little golden ring. The skin dangled,
appearing at first glance like a second penis in the dim
uncertain light. Michel shook his head awkwardly, still ignorant
in many of the rituals of the Mount. I had no doubt that he would
learn fast enough for every sign that I had seen indicated not
only a boy of superior intelligence, but one who was inclined to
learn. Kiann grinned, clearly pleased that he was charged with
enlightening another. Still, he did not elaborate. I sensed the
game he played, exacting retribution in resentment for Michel's
sound judgment down below. The silence continued, adding an air
of mystery, persisting until Michel became increasingly nervous
that he was inferior and of mediocre mind.

In a while, Kadri giggled. The game had gone on long enough.

"The reason why the band is there is to make his ball sack
smaller, Miel," he explained simply.

"Why?" Michel asked.

"Because it's better for our kind if that part is small. It's
a fact that most Vulturnus men like a boy much more when there is
barely sufficient to show his sex," Albie replied before Kadri
had a chance to answer.

"How does the band do that?" Michel asked seriously.

As always, he was interested. Indeed, from his attentive stare
and wide-open eyes he was very curious. Perhaps he sensed a
subconscious affinity for boys who lacked in size if not in
function, the parts that made them male. Strangely, I also was
becoming increasingly attracted to such boys. That in itself,
represented a complete reversal from my prior inclinations for
until recently, I had much preferred a boy who was well endowed.
I had derived considerable joy from merely looking at Etienne.
Admittedly, he was not as gifted between his legs as some young
warriors I had seen, but what he possessed between his thighs was
very definitely a promise of the man he would eventually become.
Now this strange reversal! It was as if a boy's pending manhood
had become an unnecessary proposition to me.

Kiann shrugged, relenting from his determined position. "I
don't know, Miel. It just shrivels up after a while. Mine's
already a lot smaller than it was and I've only worn a band since
last winter. I know a boy who's just turned eleven and his pouch
has almost gone. Sometimes his balls get pushed up so high you
can't feel them. It's like he doesn't have them."

"Doesn't it hurt?" Michel asked nervously.

Despite the sound of what could be interpreted as fear, he did
not avert his eyes but looked on boldly with a concentrated
stare. From my experience, I knew of many Favonius boys who were
like that. The need to diminish their sex was as prevalent as
that of Vulturnus boys who sought to elaborate what nature had
provided. Indeed, it was a rare boy on the Mount who accepted his
endowment and contrary to his peers, did not wear a ring in one
position or the other.

"Not really. In fact, I think this feels nicer than when
they're hanging loose. Vulturnus boys use a band as well, but
they position it differently so their eggs hang further down.
Without a doubt, it feels good when their balls bounce against
your legs, but for myself, I don't like mine getting in the way."

"Well, put one on me, Kiann," Kadri grinned. "I'm ready."

"Master Aleyn could not have done this, that's for certain,"
Kiann laughed. "His hands were too feeble and his eyesight was so
poor he'd have put it on your cock. Of course, there are some men
who like their boys to have small cocks, but if it's too tiny,
there is nothing for your lover to play with when he's fucking in
your bum."

He reached across and playfully grasped Kadri's crotch, giving
it a friendly squeeze. With his fingers of his right hand he
deftly manipulated the loose skin of the other boy's diminutive
scrotum into the little metal ring. Then, holding the ring firmly
between the fingers of his left hand, he pulled some of Kadri's
scrotum through until the ring would not come off of its own
accord.

"How tight do you want it? A bump like mine or a little lump
like Albie's?"

As if Kadri needed to reassure himself of what looked better,
Albie spread his legs wide apart and showed the result of wearing
the ring beneath his penis. The boy's scrotum was no larger than
a half a walnut although it was distorted by the skin that was
constrained within the ring. From beyond the cavern, I glanced
back to Kiann, comparing the two while wishing I was closer. If I
had my choice, I would have selected Kiann for the smaller
scrotum made him look less male. As that intriguing thought took
prominence in my consciousness, I realized that it was not for
Kadri but Michel that I was imagining the end result when the
ring was finally removed.

Again, I wondered why I had that desire for Michel when not
only had I loved his ripened brother, but I took great pleasure
in his emerging manhood. Although four years older and sexually
mature, Etienne lacked for nothing between his legs. I had always
believed that his outstanding boyhood made me love him even more.
Yet to my mind, an absent pouch seemed appropriate for Michel.

Kadri shrugged. He looked at Kiann admiringly. There was not a
lot to be seen between the other boy's legs. The ring was
polished and it glinted in the flickering light. The scrotum was
no more than a little bump underneath an otherwise normal-sized
penis. I expected that even that what was left would soon
disappear all together if the ring was not removed in the next
few months.

"Like yours I think, Kiann," Kadri answered boldly. "I don't
want my balls to hang down at all when I'm older."

Kiann nodded. "Some boys say that the feeling is better when
they bulge out a bit, but I like the appearance more when they're
almost gone from sight. It looks sleek and uncluttered when the
skin is wrinkled and tight."

"I think so too," Kadri said thoughtfully. His knees moved
further apart as he imagined the end result. "I want mine to look
like yours."

"My pouch is already so tight that my eggs often seek a refuge
and rise up into my inguinal canals. I've heard that in battle a
boy's eggs are safer there, but if they are too taut it will
stifle the growth of manhood in you. Not that being smooth and
hairless is a disadvantage for a Favonius boy," Kiann admitted
with a grin.

He tugged firmly on the fold of skin and carefully pushed the
ring higher. At the same time, he used his fingers to press one
testicle against either side of Kadri's penis. That enabled the
skin to be pulled even further through the little golden ring.
Kadri inspected the result, nodding as he observed the band in
place beneath his partially aroused penis.

"It's going to be small as tight as it is, but if that is what
you want then you'll be pleased with the end result." Kiann
stroked the other boy's penis, teasing the blood to flow and fill
the flesh until it was nearly erect. "One thing I must tell you,
no matter what the masters say. You will have to keep it on from
now on, Kadri," he added. "I wear mine all the time, day and
night. All the boys do that, even when they have sex. It gets
loose sometimes so you'll have to make sure the skin is always
pulled through tightly if you want it to be flat like mine."

Albie nodded seriously. "Only it's important that you don't
pull it too tight, Kadri. If the skin goes dark it means the
blood has stopped flowing. Master Aleyn told me of a boy who did
that and the skin turned green and smelly and almost all of it
had to be cut away."

"Does it hurt, Kadri?" Michel asked curiously.

"If feels funny, that's all Miel," Kadri giggled. "It's not
hurting, not even a little bit. Actually, it feels a bit like it
does when I'm going to come." He examined the end result and
grinned proudly. "You can barely see my balls."

"Put in a horn, Kadri, and I bet you'll get off before you can
count to twenty," Kiann joked.

"What's that?" Michel asked boldly.

"A horn?"

Michel nodded innocently which caused Kadri to burst into
another fit of giggles. Perhaps Michel had not noticed that there
were a variety of horns scattered throughout the cavern. Indeed,
there were more than a dozen lying on the sandy ground where the
boys were sitting. Kiann picked up one. It was an ivory horn,
slightly curved and polished to a gleaming luster. From its size
alone, it was likely taken from a walrus, but it had been carved
with a pronounced helical twist to mimic the horn of a unicorn.

"This provides the magic and music to strengthen our desire,"
Kiann began slyly. "It is the definitive instrument of pleasure
for boys like us. Haven't you wondered what people mean when they
speak of horny boys?"

So saying, he rubbed his fingers down the smooth side,
rippling over the carved whorls with an enigmatic smile. I had
seen that look often enough to know what he was thinking. He was
imagining the sensation that would occur when the ivory tool was
screwed into his bowels. Such devices did not allow a boy to
achieve release easily, but it would keep him at the very edge of
orgasm for a considerable length of time. Indeed, with practice
it could be worn all day before a boy gave up and experienced the
throes of ecstasy.

"I don't understand," Michel said softly. "It's not hollow
inside, so it can hardly be used for the purpose of blowing air
to make a sound. Tis not a horn like any that I have seen at
Court."

"Don't you recognize this horn's function, Miel?" Kadri
teased.

"Not at all? You really haven't seen a horn like this one
before?" Kiann added.

Kadri giggled at his friend's naïveté. It was not unexpected
for a boy who had led a sheltered life before he was brought to
the Sanctuary. However, Michel's inexperience would not last much
longer. Kiann smirked at his obvious confusion.

"Let's show him, Kadri."

"I've not used this one before," Kadri answered nervously.
"It's a lot bigger than the horns I'm accustomed to."

"Trust me, I've had some inside me that are much larger that
this one. This is a good horn to try when you want to take more
than you are used to. Believe me, it won't hurt any more than the
first time you were mounted, Kadri," Kiann said without
hesitation. "Get down on your belly and I'll put it in position.
Watch closely Miel, because you'll want to do it soon yourself."

Kadri, ever eager to try new things, promptly knelt down and
placed his shoulders squarely on the sand. He looked over his
shoulder and reached behind him, splitting his small firm cheeks
apart. Suddenly, Michel realized where the horn was going to be
placed. He laughed loudly, perhaps to hide his prurient interest.

"It'll never fit," Michel said discouragingly. "There is no
way it'll go in back there!"

Despite his vigorous denial, his voice trembled with
excitement at the ritual of boyhood that was about to be revealed
to him. I grinned, glad that I was hidden in the dark. It would
not do for him to see my amusement.

Kiann winked. "Don't bet on it, Miel."

He drooled saliva across the ivory shaft and smeared it with
his fingers until it glistened wetly. Then, smirking at Michel,
he placed the pointed end at Kadri's exposed rose-encircled anus.
Kadri loosened his body in the manner that he had been trained.
>From where I sat, I could see the pucker fade. The opening grew
slightly wider as he relaxed his muscles to prepare the way. At
the same time, Kiann turned the horn a revolution and gently
pressed inward. The cone-shaped tip slowly screwed deeper. For
some time, there was no sign of the amount of penetration beyond
the thickness gradually becoming greater as it entered the
reddened rim of his anus.

"Ohhhh,....." Kadri murmured.

"Does it hurt?" Michel asked urgently.

"Noooooo," Kadri groaned softly. "Ohhhhhhh! Kiann. It's good.
Go slowly. It is hurting a little, but I want it in deeper. Oh!
It's good. So big. Oh! Put it in deeper!"

Kiann's hand turned once again, another complete revolution so
that the horn sank in further. By then, the rim of Kadri's anus
was tightly stretched, yet the ivory helix still had a
considerable distance to go. Kiann paused there, waiting for
Kadri's sphincter to adjust. After a few deep breaths, Kadri
trembled and nodded quickly. With a grin, Kiann gave the horn
another slow turn, but this time before he was done, Kadri's
muscle grasped the slippery ivory and held it tight. For the time
being, it was in far enough.

Elsewhere in the cavern the other boys were similarly
practicing the ancient art of self-dilation. Gratification and
preparation for anal sex when properly done, went hand in hand.
For any boy, this stimulating exercise was far greater fun than
performing the simpler manual chore of stretching the opening and
expanding the space within. It was an essential task if a boy was
to be mounted by a man. Young fingers alone simply could not
reach far enough into a rectum to give a boy the joy that was
desired. With any of the horns, the end could be positioned in
the inner sanctum, and with careful exploration it could be
manipulated to produce exquisite pleasure. Two of the boys I
watched had even selected horns that had once been the tusks of
elephants. They were taken from small elephants, but any
pachyderm worthy of the name was blessed with tusks of quite
substantial size. With little more than the application of
copious saliva the boys had proceeded to impale themselves. It
was, judging from the salacious grins on both of them, not an
unpleasant undertaking.

Some of the boys had selected walrus horns, or the tusks of
boars. The latter, although considerably smaller were more than
ample to quell the greatest desire and less likely to tear the
inner membrane. In the space of just a few moments, the muted
whispers of nearly a dozen boys had turned to moans as the horns
began to move back and forth within their bowels. That guttural
grunting, that magical music of their special joy, made my heart
beat faster and caused my hand to find solace under my cloak. My
penis was aching with unyielding hardness. Indeed, I could not
remember being quite so stiff, unless it had been the night
before. The boys called that condition the Sword of Jupiter, an
erection that was equal to having a weapon of the gods. No boy
could kneel before the Sword of Jupiter and remain a virgin. I
groaned, feeling my heat flowing though my fingers.

Nonetheless, I was responsible by nature, and so it was that
with some regret I minimized the contact with my flesh.
Masturbation, while normally not encouraged of boys upon the
Mount, was neither frowned upon. Done properly, it taught them of
the ebb and flow of pleasure and the need to control the
sensations of life and death. For a master, however, self-
stimulation was both unnecessary and a wasted effort when there
were always boys whose bowels demanded filling.

Within the cavern, at least a half a dozen boys had soon
achieved Nirvana. Even Kadri, who had been squirming
uncomfortably when last I saw him, was writhing on the ground. Of
his horn, a spiral of length equal to only a few fingers could be
seen extending from between his firm buttocks. I gazed,
stupefied, for what had passed beyond his portal was surely far
bigger than my Sword of Jupiter. As far as I knew, only one time
had he been mounted by a man, and just once since then by little
Sandor. To my disbelieving eyes, the huge horn did not appear to
be causing him discomfort. However, that was the nature of the
'unicorn'. As a boy, I had not used it very often myself.
Vulturnus boys seldom resorted to such devices to expand their
inner places. It was a different matter for boys like these. They
were born to have the passive role and they took great pride in
the size they could accommodate.

It was only then that I realized that Michel was lying on his
back in the classic position of a boy waiting to be mounted. He
held his legs close to his chest, his hands grasping behind his
knees and pulling his small feet beyond his ears. Albie was
kneeling very close behind him. For one terrible second I thought
Michel's virginity was lost to an overeager boy. I nearly called
out to stop him for not to do otherwise before the deed was
completed would have been not only unfortunate, but a shameful
waste of innocence. All custom and ritual upon the Mount believed
that a boy's rose was a precious flower that was only to be
surrendered to a man. Michel had less than a month to go before
he bloomed. However, the fact was that all of the boys had ample
opportunity to penetrate each other, and no doubt a virgin as
beautiful as Michel represented a special temptation to other
boys. Although logic argued that perhaps it happened more often
than was reported, I could not accept the untimely loss.

Fortunately, Albie suddenly leaned to the side and revealed
what was being done. He had inserted a tiny curved horn between
Michel's small buttocks. I nearly laughed aloud. It was a boar's
tusk and no larger than my finger, albeit uncompromising for it
could not feel his muscle struggling to resist the entry. Perhaps
it was better this way. I did not relish the time when Michel
would squirm and whimper when my finger first passed through his
virgin portal. In that instant, I realized the fundamental truth
of our love. I could never hurt him, despite the nature of what
happened when our emerging love finally sought its physical
fulfillment.

As I watched in growing fascination at the boyhood ritual,
Albie guided Michel's hand behind him, placing it upon the
remaining length of horn. There had to be the thickness of a
finger already embedded in his bowels. Both boys pushed it inward
very gently, paused, then slowly backed away. Michel glanced
quickly over his shoulder. Albie nodded encouragingly and took
his hand away. Awkwardly, Michel took the first step in the
discovery of what it meant when boys were left alone to be
themselves.

His small hand moved tentatively at first, testing the limit
of his body. From his expression, eager yet patient, I was
bemused that he was trying very hard to accept the curved tusk
despite his body's best efforts to reject it. The penetration was
slow and appropriately cautious. I saw a face of despair when
Michel's sphincter muscle tightened and tried to push it out. He
was grim for only a moment until his rectum opened up a fraction
further. Then he groaned, uttering that sound that all boys make
when the inner gland was subjected to the sudden surge of joy
that made life worth living. I sighed aloud, and watched with
increasingly fascinated eyes. Although his expression remained
tense, hovering in that zone that existed between pain and
ecstasy, he bravely explored his inner chamber. With surprising
dexterity he applied the curved horn to probe and stroke, until
he was conscious of every possible sensation. Sometimes, when he
pushed in too far or levered the tusk down too hard, the feelings
verged on pain. However, at other times, it was all he could do
not to moan or whimper in ecstasy.

Surrounded by the other boys, he had no shame. This was his
time of comprehension. He was learning, understanding, and
accepting what he was. The transformation had begun, my Michel
had embarked upon a voyage of discovery with the consequential
end that he would love men. I smiled then, beamed with happiness,
and as proud as I had ever been. There was within his brilliant
eyes, the light of a mystery that had been revealed to him. I
witnessed his epiphany, knowing that it would change the nature
of the love between us.

After a while, Michel shuddered violently. Without warning he
had reached the end of what had been a brief build-up phase. It
was over in an instant, cheating him of prolonged spasms but
satisfying enough for his initiation to that higher pinnacle of
pleasure. He trembled uncontrollably, taking quick breaths with
frightening urgency until he managed to extract the blunted horn.
His hands shook so badly that he almost dropped the slippery tusk
on the ground. He clasped it in his hand possessively, gripping
tightly until I saw the white of his knuckles. He slumped onto
his side and curled up. Even though he had achieved release and
the pressure had diminished to provide relief, he was still
twitching. I knew the urge to continue was tormenting for a
prepubescent boy. Although it had been some time since he had
climaxed, Michel's body continued to respond to nature's urges.
That was a good sign for it indicated the extent of his capacity
for physical sensation, and given what had already transpired
between us, gave me reason to hope he would be exceptionally
agreeable when I took him from behind.

Needless to say, I would have been content to watch him and
him alone, but my responsibility to the other boys was demanding
of my time. Instead, I shared my glances so my eyes were not
entirely locked on him. Elsewhere in the cave, eleven other boys
had also achieved the pinnacle of delight. All of the other boys
possessed the added advantage of expertise, showing greater skill
in the use of the instruments of pleasure. With a passing
interest, I watched Kiann climax. He made a sound that suggested
he was in pain although his face said otherwise. By contrast,
Kadri squealed loudly and writhed in a frenzy upon the ground,
taking his hand away when he peaked, then putting it back to
screw the exposed length of the spiral horn even harder. His
entire body appeared to tremble and thrash about, every muscle
given over to fighting with an invisible foe. When the spasms
finished and a measure of calm had returned to his distorted
features, Kadri giggled. He showed no inhibition when he rolled
onto his belly and, looking over his shoulder, shamelessly asked
Michel to do the honor of removing the projecting horn.

With perturbing slowness, Michel crawled across the ground. He
appeared exhausted, almost comatose as he awkwardly kneeled next
to his friend. It was all that I could do not to laugh because
when his buttocks parted, I saw that the horn was back inside
him. Only the slightest portion protruded from his hole. He had
replaced it while I was watching the other boys. He had succumbed
to his desire, overcoming his body's reluctance to be subjected
to the torment once again. Yet, I appreciated his condition. Once
a boy had experienced that ultimate delight, he would always seek
to have the void within him filled with something big and hard.

Michel squatted lower, quickly glancing back over his
shoulder to see if I was watching. He smirked gleefully, as if
aware of his friend's predicament. He grasped the spiral end of
Kadri's horn. With deft turns of his wrist, he began to unscrew
the ivory helix. Each outward turn reduced the pressure inside
Kadri's abdomen, yet he groaned and carried on as if he was about
to orgasm once again, and then with very little effort. Even
without the training he would receive, a repeat performance was
entirely possible for a boy whose testicles had not dropped.

The horn had penetrated quite deeply, and as the fluted ridge
abraded his sacred place with a sudden twisting motion, he was
subjected to yet another rush of pleasure. Michel's hand was
shaking, and that slight tremor was nearly sufficient to produce
the required amount of stimulation. Kadri whimpered as his bowels
were subjected to another bout of pleasure. Almost as soon as one
spasm had faded, another was upon him. The joy came in waves,
bursting from his body as erratic shuddering. Each time Michel
levered down upon the horn, Kadri groaned and gasped, and pushed
back to force it harder against his gland. Again and again the
boys played that game, testing a young body to the limits of
endurance. Indeed, Kadri's motions were so frenetic that it
seemed that his sanity was also being tested.

Without warning, Kadri peaked again. This time he screamed. It
was not a cry of pain, but the sound of a boy achieving ecstasy,
his body no longer under his control but conquered by his
maddening lust. I regarded him with concern, hoping that Michel
had not caused him injury. The flesh that formed the inner tube
was easily damaged and could bleed if at all mistreated. I had
observed ample signs to know that both boys were very sensitive
to each other's needs.

Fortunately, from what I could see, Kadri had not been hurt.
He breathed heavily, taking slow deep breaths as he sought to
exert control. His eyes were closed in a dreamy memory, his lips
apart and showing a hint of a smile. However, even that post-
orgasmic bliss was truncated when the pointed end came free.
Michel was both amused and interested for the shaft was slick and
shiny but otherwise very clean.

"I thought it would be dirty," Michel muttered as much to
himself as anyone else.

Kadri lifted up to lean on his elbow. He smirked. "Sometimes
it is, Miel, but not today. Anyway, you'll learn before too long,
there is a way to make it come out clean."

"How?" Michel asked, doubtless expecting to hear of some
arcane ritual that could be employed to free the rectum of its
contents.

"You sit before you do it," Kadri giggled.

It took a moment become Michel grasped his meaning for one
word, while close, was unexpected to his ears. He smiled, at the
same time wrinkling his pert little nose to indicate distaste.

"It smells funny, Kadri," Michel observed after a while.

"Funny?"

"It's like the smell in the kitchen when bread is being
baked," Michel answered.

"Oh that? You didn't smell it before when I was joined with
Sandor in the bed beside you and Master Aidan?" Kadri asked
shamelessly.

Michel smiled shyly, a clear sign that the smell was not
unfamiliar to him when he remembered what had happened the night
before. I presumed that he had been too reserved to ask the
question of me at the time.

"It's the smell that comes from inside us," Kadri answered.

"Some call it the sap of love," Kiann added knowledgeably.
"Master Aleyn used to say the longer it took the slime of our
bowels to dribble down the less pleasure there was for him. He
preferred those boys whose juices flowed the fastest. It made
them worth the time it took to fuck."

"Oh!"

Michel was visibly uncertain. He looked from Kadri to Kiann,
and then to Albie, who had said so little that I wondered if he
was angry. Until recently, he had not smiled. However, Kiann's
last comment made him smirk. Was it possible that Kiann and Albie
shared a friendship that verged on love, no different to what I
believed was emerging between Sandor and Kadri? It that were
true, it was likely that Michel would soon be set aside as an
interloper.

"It's in you too. Look at your fingers, Miel," Kadri teased.
"Put them to your nose and smell them."

Michel lifted his fingers to nose and inhaled. He giggled,
realizing for the first time that his fingers were also streaked
with slippery fluid. He rubbed his fingers together, wondering at
its source and reason.

"This slippery stuff comes from inside us?" he asked with
growing curiosity.

"You're lucky, Michel. It looks like you have a lot. So does
Kadri. I'm pretty dry myself," Kiann muttered. "If it's not to
hurt I have to use a lot of lard when I'm with a man."

Again, Albie smirked. In the intervening silence, I understood
the reason for his mood. Because Kiann lacked the juice to ease
his member, Master Aleyn had rejected him. It was then, that
Albie had come forward and demonstrated the basis for long-
lasting friendship. The boys had bonded in the all the ways they
could.

"What on earth are you talking about? Lard? You mean the lard
that is used for cooking?" Michel asked. "Is that why it smells
like baking bread?"

Kadri giggled with glee. "Miel! You know how some apples are
juicy and some are mealy? Well, it's the same for us. Some boys
are juicier inside than others. It's the same for men, except
their juice comes out the other end. If there is enough from
both, then nothing else is needed to ease the way within us."

"Is that good or bad?" Michel asked nervously.

Kiann shook his head knowledgeably. "It makes a mess when it
oozes out, but so does lard, and it's greasy, so it really
doesn't matter much. We can all make love, either with what we
have or what is easily obtained from the kitchen."

Michel considered that. Shyly, he glanced around the cave. By
then all of the other boys were resting, recovering from their
exertions. Those boys, three or four of them who had achieved
multiple joys, were barely able to move. Their strength would
soon be restored, but for a while at least, they would need to
rest. Some of the boys were whispering. When he turned back to
Kiann and Albie, they too had their heads close together,
exchanging words in muted voices. Michel looked at Kadri.

"Why does it feel so good?" he asked timidly.

Kadri giggled. "Because it does. It's supposed to feel good
for boys like us. That's why we're different to other boys, i
expect."

"How are we different?"

"You're like me. We're faggots, Miel. That's what we are.
We're boys who do not love as others do. But more than that,
we're Favonius."

"Faggots?" Michel repeated nervously.

Kadri shrugged dismissively. "Don't make it sound so bad. We
can't help how we were born. We prefer to be loved by men, you
and I, so our bodies are made to love that way."

"What way?" Michel asked after a moment.

"Didn't you watch Sandor and me?" Kadri replied. "Didn't you
see where his penis went inside me? Why do you think the horn
goes where it did?"

Michel giggled. "He put it in your behind. Then he moved it
back and forth. That's where the horn went too?" he added
thoughtfully.

"He might be dumb at times, but at least he's not blind,"
Kiann said testily. "That's how we make love, Michel. A man
sticks his cock inside your bum. It's called 'fucking'. What we
did just now helps to get us ready."

"How?"

"Your hole needs to be larger to take a man's big thing. At
least this big around," Kiann said, holding the tips of his thumb
and first finger together to make a crude circle.

"In your dreams," Albie interjected.

Kiann scowled. "You haven't done it with Master John," he
reminded his friend. "Just wait until you do. Not that it matters
for I've heard that,..."

Kiann held his finger to his lips as he nodded towards the
dark slit that separated me from them. I was not supposed to hear
what he said next for he lowered both his voice and his head and
whispered something that made all four boys laugh. Kadri nodded
eagerly and added another piece of information in an undertone.
It was enough to cause another fit of giggles.

"That big?" Albie teased and grinned.

"Well, of anyone, Sandor's the boy who ought to know," Kadri
acknowledged condescendingly. "He's the only boy who he's been up
until now."

Kiann nodded in response. "Well I hope it's true. It's time we
had a master who has the energy and desire to fuck, and a prick
that is big enough to fill our bowels. Master Aleyn could barely
get it in before he fell asleep. And tiny? I've seen bigger dicks
on boys before they leave the Mount."

Again they laughed, encouraging Kiann to continue. "I don't
know about the rest of you, but I'm tired of going to bed with
Vulturnus boys not much bigger than myself. I need a good fuck to
get me to fall asleep."

"Me too," Albie tittered. "Being with a boy is fun of course,
but I'd be lying if I said that was all I wanted. Every boy I
know dreams at night of a man whose prong is huge."

"Why is it so important for a man's cock to be enormous?"

Three boys regarded Michel with obvious amusement. He
immediately looked away in embarrassment. There was a lot for a
young Favonius boy to learn.

"Not enormous, Michel, because that would hurt you. I've seen
a man with a cock that was nearly a cubit long. Do you have any
idea of how big that is?"

Michel held his hands apart, judging the distance quite
accurately. I smiled to see a shadow that crossed his face. He
was right to be concerned as the realization set in. Indeed,
there were men who were so large, but one could only hope that
they did not try to penetrate a boy. The result would not only be
painful, but potentially injurious to his health.

"That may be true. However, it is important only that a man's
cock is big enough to fill you up," Kadri explained. "When you've
been ringed you'll understand."

"It has to reach into your bowels. It needs to go far enough
that it rubs against the precious jewel inside you, Michel,"
Albie giggled.

"Jewel? What jewel?"

The other boys laughed. "It's where the best feelings come
from," Kadri explained. "It's the center of your being. It's
hidden so deep within you, that only a man's penis can touch it."

"And a horn," Kiann commented. "You enjoyed what happened
earlier, didn't you Miel?"

Michel nodded. "Uh? I suppose. It felt like I was going to
explode."

"That's the feeling that makes life worth living," Kiann went
on. "It' the best feeling there is. And it's even better when
it's caused by a man's cock. A horn is lifeless, hard and without
warmth. You melt around a man, his cock will fill you fuller than
you believe is possible. Truly, you will be joined with him when
his cock is inside you. And when he moves, your entire body comes
alive."



I turned around then, my interest suddenly disturbed when I
heard a shuffling sound behind me. I saw the glow of a flickering
candle reflecting off the walls of the tunnel as well. Someone, a
master more than likely, was coming down the stairs. I did not
have long to wait. The footsteps came nearer. They stopped around
the corner, hidden from my sight, but not concealed. They made
too much noise for that. Then, I realized there was not one
person but two, perhaps more for some sounds were so muffled that
they could not be deciphered. One was a man. The other person was
younger. He moved so quietly that he made almost no sound at all.
A boy, as slender as Michel no doubt, for he was very light upon
his feet. I heard little more than the faintest sound of small
bare feet moving across stone.

"This will do quite nicely. We'll stop here. Take off your
tunic, boy," came the gruff sound of a voice I knew all too well.

There was no response. I shuddered, wondering which of the
boys had been brought to this place. Apart from the games of
boys, what act was so private that it had to be hidden
underground. For no other reason than the tone of voice and my
own imagination, I had an unpleasant feeling that the boy had not
come by choice. And worse, I sensed that what was about to happen
was nothing less than depravity itself.

"Well? Do as you're told, boy. Don't dally. I don't have all
day. Get naked. I want to see you now."

I tensed. His tone had changed. Menacing and tense, like a man
for whom anger was quickly drawing near. He was demanding and
without respect, contravening the most inviolate of all of the
rules of the Mount. Though few boys did, the right to say 'no'
was inherent in every night-time act. This man was countenancing
no denial. Every moment of stalwart resistance caused his
annoyance to grow.

"Master Devon? Please don't make me?... Please?"

I recognized the imploring voice despite his fearful whimper.
That such a brave and wonderful boy could be reduced to tears by
a man like him sent a spear of hatred through my heart. Then,
without more warning than a prolonged silence, I heard the
unmistakable rip of cloth. It was very loud and an omen of what
was to follow.

"No! No, don't! Leave me alone. Please? I don't want to do
this with you."

"Now you say 'don't'? Why did you come down here with me, you
flirtatious brat?"

"I came with you to find my friends. That's all. You said
you'd show me where they'd gone."

"You want to play with Favonius boys? Is that what you prefer?
Even their master is weak. You desire girlish faggots over
Vulturnus men?"

"Yes, if the men are like you."

"You whelp. Bend over and I'll soon teach you what men like me
do to boys like you. I'll split your ass so wide you'll not sit
down for at least a week."

"No!"

I had started to get to my feet, but I stopped there. From my
own boyhood on the Mount, I knew that there were some things that
were best ignored and situations that should be left
unchallenged. It was no secret that despite the rules, some men
took their boys as an entitlement. The enjoyment of young flesh
was a privilege of position, but privilege did not justify the
abuse of power or the use of force when a boy was unwilling to
serve a master. However, it was more complex than a simple
problem of obedience to rules. There were some boys who resisted
at first in order to increase their own excitement. It was part
of the erotic game they played, giving up only when the end was
near. Was this part of some bizarre resistance that was intended
to build enthusiasm for the act to follow? It was impossible to
determine. I listened closely, waiting for a sign that I should
intervene.

"This can be easy or it can be hard, boy. And trust me, when I
say that what I've got in store for you is very hard."

"I don't care. I don't what to do anything with you."

"What you want is of no concern to me. I've always said that
the best fucks are when the boy squeals loudly. It's even better
when he bleeds as much as the semen I put in him. Just the
thought of shafting your sweet behind is enough to temper my
sword to the strongest metal."

"No!" The voice trembled. "The rules require that I say 'yes',
either in words or by showing that I desire your love by being
compliant. I have said no and I mean no. NO! NO! NO!"

"The rules be damned. I plan to fuck you, boy. I don't care
for rules, Sandor, and especially not when they get in my way.
Rules are there to protect the weak and stupid, like that
miserable little coward I trained today."

"Michel is no coward."

"He's Favonius! They are all like that. They even lack between
their legs, the eggs that make them male. They need rules to
protect them. I plan to have you, boy, whether you say yes or
no."

Again, I heard the sound of cloth being ripped. The sound was
followed by the muted noise of a scuffle, then the slap of a hand
on bare firm flesh.

"No!"

The scream of terror rent the air. Behind me, I heard the
furtive whispers of a dozen boys as they emerged from the narrow
cleft where they had gone. I shook my head urgently, requiring
total silence, gesticulating for the boy who carried the one
remaining taper to immediately put out the light. The boys
gathered closely around me in the unsettling darkness. They were
warm and smooth and soft, and they did not hesitate to press
their bare bodies close against me. Like me, they barely
breathed, listening to the sounds that had brought them out from
the hidden cavern.

I smelled Michel long before he brushed my side. Among twelve
boys, his smell was unique. I shuddered as the realization took
hold of me. I had reason to be startled for it was often said
that to distinguish the scent of one among many was a certain
sign of enduring love. I reached out and touched my fingers to
his head. His hair felt like spun silk, each strand like
gossamer. He pressed closer, as if trying to merge his body into
mine. He shivered slightly. Had he heard the voice of the boy?
Had he recognized Sandor as I had? I closed my hand upon his
shoulder to hold him securely. He could be impetuous at times.
And Kadri, where was he? Of any of the boys with me in the
darkness, he was the one who I was most worried about for already
I had observed in him that admirable attribute of loyalty. Within
a day, no less than twice, he had sprung to the defense of his
friends.

"Why hold back what nature has given you. Give yourself to
me."

"No! It's not for you!" Sandor said loudly.

"You haven't denied your hole to any other man from what I've
heard about you. You're a whore, my boy. You're no better than
any harlot in the street. You part your cheeks for any cock. Now,
part them for mine. Show me what there is between your legs. What
is it that they all get and you dare to hold back from me."

"No!"

"Bend over, brat, or I'll take you standing up."

"Let me go, you brute!"

Michel's hand grasped mine, squeezing frantically. He pulled,
dragging me forward. I resisted his impetuous reaction for even
then I was still not completely convinced that Sandor was in need
of help. However, intervention was needed before I exhaled again.
He shrieked loudly, as scared as any boy could be. We heard a
thud, the sound of a body slammed against rock, and another
frantic cry that indicated a sharp and sudden pain such as a boy
would feel when his testicles were squeezed. I darted to the
corner, pausing only to ascertain what I saw before I revealed
myself. My fears had to be well founded before I invoked the
wrath of a senior master.

A candle had been placed upon a ledge, providing ample
illumination to observe the situation. Sandor was naked, his
tunic and recently acquired red belt lying in a crumpled pile. He
cowered beside the chiseled rock wall, the flickering candle
above and to his right. He had been forced to take the submissive
position. He was kneeling and ready to be dishonored with his
slender legs splayed wide and his shoulders and head pressed into
the ground. His hands were placed behind him to spread his cheeks
apart. And Master Devon? He knelt behind Sandor with his robe
open at the front. His tumescent sex protruded through the gap,
crimson-colored, fully engorged and clearly ready to do battle
with the boy's exposed behind. Indeed, even as I started forward
to enter the halo of light around them, that thick and swollen
knob was hastily brought forward and lodged before the lad's
small portal. Given its considerable size and the fact that
Sandor was not only unwilling but had only just been ringed, the
deed would only be accomplished at great pain.

"No," Sandor pleaded. "I don't want to. Not with you."

"Be silent. It won't take long before the pain is gone. Once
you're used to it, you'll beg to take my shaft. If you're lucky
I'll fuck you until dawn."

"Master, if he doesn't want to, perhaps you shouldn't. It
isn't right to force a boy to do anything against his will.
You've often said that there are always other boys when I'm too
sore to take your cock."

I stopped in my tracks at hearing another boy's unbroken
voice. He sounded scared, yet there was firmness when he spoke.
This changed the situation. It was unlikely that Master Devon
would rape Sandor with a witness present. I had not heard this
boy's voice before, but it was not hard to guess at who he was.
More than likely it was the young Favonius boy who had followed
Master Devon up the stairs. That boy had possessed the look of
one who was over-eager for a man's affections. Such boys were
easily misled. I waited, listening and poised to move should
Sandor need me to intervene.

"Be quiet, Romaine. I've wanted this boy ever since I first
laid eyes upon him."

"But he said he doesn't want to. What about the rules,
Master?"

"The rules be damned. Leave us if you are too cowardly to
watch this brat's impalement. I plan to skewer him until he begs
for mercy."

The boy shrank back. He mouthed something, but his words were
lost in Sandor's panicked cry. He shook his head wildly, denying
in abject silence the horror of the sight before him. And then,
he turned and hastily retreated out of aura of the candle light.
Within a moment he was gone from sight. His footsteps faded.



"Now it's just us, Sandor," Master Devon said softly. "You're
such a sexy boy. You're not as pretty as that little Favonius
brat, Michel, but you're still quite appealing in your own way."

He stroked Sandor's bare chest, teasing his tiny nipples until
they were firm. Then the palms of his hands pressed against the
boy's breasts.

"Lie still!" He grasped Sandor's thin ankles and pushed them
above his leg to expose his buttocks. "I've known many boys like
you," he said cruelly to Sandor. "Vulturnus brats who love to be
mounted, but who hold back for fear of being fucked like girls.
You want my cock inside you, and I'm going to oblige. I intend to
fuck you as deep and hard as any man can fuck a boy. If you know
what's good for you, then push out when you feel it going in," he
added threateningly.

Sandor's head shook sullenly. The fight had left him when
Romaine had retreated. He stopped struggling and closed his eyes
to block out the face of the man who loomed above him. That
leering face promised both shame and terrible pain. Master
Devon's mouth opened wide with a gasp of pleasure. At the same
time, Sandor shuddered in fear. No doubt he could feel the
pressure building in his rear as the monstrous flared head sought
to burst through the small opening. He felt his resistance
fading, the head pressing further into him, nearly breaching the
rose-ringed hole.

I stepped around the corner and lifted the candle from where
it had been placed. I approached carefully, knowing full well
that once surprised in such a despicable act, Master Devon, would
not only wish me dead but might well take steps to achieve that
end. He was so engrossed in the task of penetrating Sandor that
he did not hear my footsteps. Neither did he hear the rustle when
I squatted down and my thigh brushed against the wall. Sandor
grunted, struggling frantically as the man's penis began to
strain against his unprotected hole. The hands that held his
hips, grasped harder and dragged him back. Sandor whimpered as
the swollen glans began to pierce his tightened anus. In such a
resolute attack there was little that he could do for very long
to stem the man's advance.

"Loosen up now and let it go in, Sandor," Master Devon
cajoled. "It's big and hard just for you. You can feel it, can't
you? You know it's what you want."

"NO!"

It was at that instant that I held the burning candle beneath
his widespread thighs. Master Devon's scrotum was huge and hairy
and it hung low between his legs. The skin was stretched by the
weight of his two ponderous testicles, as big as any that I had
ever seen. So great was his excitement that he did not feel the
searing heat. Indeed, I smelled the stench of burning hair for a
long time before he reacted. Perhaps his over-stimulated mind
thought it was merely part of the sensory response from trying to
penetrate poor Sandor.

I had to smile for it was difficult to keep the candle aligned
when his hips pushed back and forth. Clearly he had
underestimated the strength of a boy's anus when it was
determined not to open. He thrust again and again with increasing
vigor. Evidently Master Devon was a man who believed that sheer
force could achieve what gentle patient teasing could not do.
Compared to the ease that Sandor had willingly engulfed my penis
just the night before, I felt truly vindicated in interrupting
the shameful sodomy.

However, as the flame crept again and again across Master
Devon's scrotum, his nerves finally responded. He screamed like a
demon close to death. By then, the smell of burning hair was
tinged with something else. I barely had time to replace the
candle as I jumped back to conceal myself around the corner.
Barely was I out of sight before the man sprung away, jerking his
unwelcomed knob from Sandor's bottom. A cautious glance around
the corner revealed a result that was entirely appropriate to his
offense. He sprawled on the ground, his hands cupping his burned
manhood. There was fury in his eyes.

"My balls are on fire. What have you done to me, you miserable
cur?" he bellowed in agony.

Sandor scrambled away until he was out of reach. His hand
moved instinctively, placing a small stone between his buttocks
to decrease the pain by applying something smooth and cool.

"No more on fire than my bum," he retorted angrily. "You hurt
me too."

"A sore bum is nothing compared to this agony. Oh! A dragon's
fire has burned me. The pain! My balls! My balls are ruined! How
dare you wound me? Come here, brat!"

"What ails you, Master Devon," Sandor said with callous
amusement.

He awkwardly came to his knees, watching the man who groaned
and writhed in agony just three paces away. He smiled gleefully,
yet he was not oblivious to being naked before a man who he
despised. His hand covered his genitals as if they were forbidden
fruit.

"Perhaps it is St. Elmo's fire as punishment for breaking the
rules, Master devon," he suggested lightheartedly. "Or perhaps
the heat of passion caused a fire to be ignited in your groin."

Sandor bent down awkwardly and picked up his tunic. His hands
trembled as he placed it over his shoulders. It took a long while
for him to re-tie the belt. After he dusted off his clothes he
turned to look at Master Devon. The man was trying to alleviate
his pain by holding his hands against his injured scrotum. Even
in the dim candle light, his scrotum was glowing red. Behind me,
a dozen Favonius boys had cupped their hands firmly over their
mouths to prevent their laughter from being heard.

"What have you done to me, brat?" he groaned. "I am on fire
between my legs. The skin is burned. My eggs hurt terribly."

Sandor shrugged. "I did nothing to you. I know only what was
done to me against my will. Master Aidan will know of this before
nightfall."

"You dare to tell him about your indiscretion and you'll
regret it, you miserable whelp."

"My indiscretion? You tried to rape me! I said 'no'. I did not
want you inside me this time, and I never will again. You got
what you deserved. The rules say that a boy cannot be taken
against his will," Sandor rebuked indignantly.

"No one will believe you. A boy's word against that of a
senior master? You have no witnesses."

"Romaine saw what you tried to do," Sandor said angrily.

"Romaine knows better than to cross me. He saw nothing! Tell
your precious Aidan, I don't care. He's a coward like that boy,
Michel. He won't intervene to save your life, let alone do
anything to protect your arse. Beware, boy. You hurt my balls so
it's only right that I cut your's off."

"I did nothing to your balls," Sandor said bravely.

I held my hand up to show the boys behind me that they were
not to move. Then, pressing my finger to my lips to indicate that
their silence should not end, I stepped forward a pace. I turned
the corner, entering into the shadowy light. Sandor's eyes lit
up. An instant passed before Master Devon became aware of my
presence. He turned suddenly, skewing his head around.

"What?" he gasped.

"Young Sandor has a witness, Master Devon," I said simply. "I
watched you try to rape him. He begged you not to do it. Count
yourself lucky that you did not manage to get within him. The
fire you feel in your eggs is my doing. Touch him again, or any
boy who rejects you, and next time I'll burn them off."

"Watch out!" Sandor shrieked.

Even as he uttered his cry of warning, I had seen Master
Devon's hand moving. Like many warriors, he wore a scabbard on
his leg. From the leather he drew a knife. For a moment, he
brandished it before me. I smiled.

"Please," I said simply.

"What?" he snarled angrily.

"It would pleasure me to finish this here and now," I answered
quietly.

"What would you know of fighting? You are nothing but a master
of Favonius brats."

"By your words to Michel, you would do well to remember that
'warriors do not break rules.' That is all your kind understand.
Be gone from here, Master Devon. In the love of boys there are
rules to be followed and you will follow them exactly. "

"You think you can defeat me? Me?" he demanded brashly. "Who
do you think you are?"

"Aidan of Aquarius," I replied forcefully. "However, you
should know that I have had my share of battles in the past. You
might know me better as a warrior if you studied the books within
the Library."

I held my hand out and Sandor nervously stepped forward,
closing the distance between us until our hands clasped. I drew
him to me, and fondly placed my arm around his shoulder. We stood
together until Master Devon clambered to his feet. We watched as
he gathered his robe about him. He regarded us resentfully, and
then, without uttering a word, he backed away into the darkness
to disappear into the tunnel.