Date: Thu, 20 May 2004 23:17:40 -0500
From: Merle Windsor <geo_carbuncle@hotmail.com>
Subject: Imperial Prisoner part 1

Well, hello there. This is actually my first time writing a story like this.
I'm normally a very conservative person, but this has always been a guilty
passion of mine, and I suppose it just sort of manifested this way. If you
want, I'll continue, just give me an e-mail. I check it every 4th minute, so
I'd be in ecstacy if someone did. ^-^

DISCLAIMER: Yes, well, if you don't like male-male action...This is
definitely the wrong part of the site to be on anyway, but I have no
responsibility for your actions. (Like I really would anyway? We're all
responsible for ourselves.) If it's illegal to view this story, it's a
shame, but I'd advise you away from it. That being said, if you can enjoy
it, please do. ^_^

---

     The dripping of water echoed inside the dark, musty jail cell. The men
inside slept soundly, despite falling asleep on the hard stone floor. Even
in the darkness, though, a shadow moved surreptitiously back and forth. It
was clear that someone was awake.
     The figure shifted to the left a few feet into the light of the full
moon - the only window was a simple barred hole in the wall - and looked
out the makeshift opening.  The man's long, saffron hair reflected the
moonlight in strands of spun gold, and seemed to make a garment around his
smoothly toned, shirtless frame.
     As he looked up to the cracked and dripping ceiling, his viridian eyes
sparkled with the vigor of youth. His soft face showed no signs of wear,
and it shone with the radiance of sexual maturity. The gentle pallor of his
skin was accentuated by the lunar rays streaming in over his body.
     The man grasped the long, iron bars of his cell and pressed them
against his face, feeling their coldness and their restraint. How he had
wished he was on the outside, free to live in peace and harmony. The man
held his half-naked, hairless body against the cold bars as tears streamed
down his face.
     Suddenly, a sound broke the man's reverie. The sound of footsteps
echoed throughout the solitary cell. Apparently, the Empire had found it
much too expensive to create partitions in the cell, and had therefore made
one large cell with one door.
     The man darted away from the iron bars and sat with his back against
the wall, out of the glimmering moonlight. The sound of heavy boots came
closer still until it stopped in front of the bare-chested prisoner.
     "Zenith Volta", whispered the guard in a thick, masculine voice. "Come
here."
     Zenith responded to his own name and crawled into the moonlight,
shuddering from cold and fear.
     The guard kneeled down quietly and became visible in the pale white
light. He was not gruff or even old (he was no more than a year older than
Zenith) but he radiated an aura of vitality, curiosity, and capability. He
had short brown hair and gray eyes that seemed to smolder.
     "What do you want?" whispered Zenith huskily. His voice was light, but
by no means feminine.
     The guard turned a fierce red when he had noticed that Zenith was clad
only in leather pants and the guard swallowed hard.
     "I wanted to know," began the guard with deliberate pauses, "If you
wanted anything."
     Zenith only raised an eyebrow at the guard, ignorant of what he meant.
     "This is an Imperial prison," Zenith whispered. "I could have sworn
that prisoners were below comforts."
     The guard licked his lips and chewed thoughtfully on his own tongue,
fishing for the correct way to phrase what he felt. Finally, he lay with
his back to the bars.
     "So, then do you want to talk?" the guard asked, sighing in failure.
     "Sure," breathed Zenith, slightly confused. "What's your name?"
     "Misrin," said the guard softly.
     Zenith shifted so that his back was to the bars as well. They were now
against the same barred wall, one wanting to get in, and the other wanting
to get out. The multitude of prisoners formed a dense cloud of indifference
in the background, writhing in their own hypnotizing breaths.
     "So how old are you?" asked Misrin, floundering for ideas.
     "I've just reached my 19th summer," Zenith said, slightly saddened.
"Today is the day I was born."
     "Oh, I'm twenty..." Misrin ventured. "But it's sad you have to spend
your birthday in this awful place."
     Zenith gave Misrin a strange look, and Misrin immediately blushed.
     "Although," Misrin began quickly. "If you hadn't committed that crime,
you wouldn't be in here in the first place....What did you do, again?"
     Zenith looked down at the cold, stone floor. "I was a thief. They
finally caught me with a loaf of bread. I suppose that's the way it goes,
though."
     "Oh," said Misrin with exhalation. "I suppose that explains why your
hands and face are so soft, and why you keep yourself so fit."
     A moment of pause overcame them before they both blushed furiously.
Misrin cursed himself silently.


     About an hour had passed of conversation, and the two were now lying
down, staring at non-existent stars on the ceiling of the prison. Neither
could sleep.
     "Shouldn't you be elsewhere?" Zenith finally ventured to Misrin. "I
mean, you are a guard."
     "No..." murmured Misrin. "My captain is sleeping just as are the other
guards. They assume no one will escape at night."
     "Oh," Zenith said with a sigh. "Then why are you even here?"
     Misrin paused a moment and sighed.
     "Since this is getting me nowhere, I may as well tell you the truth."
Zenith shifted attentively to listen.
     Misrin tried to speak, but no words would come. The moon had long
moved away from the window, but the glorious splendor of Zenith virtually
lit up the room itself.
     Surreptitiously, Misrin moved his hand closer to Zenith's outstretched
hand and enclosed it in his own. The soft hands were pristine cloth in the
rough hands of the guard.
     Zenith gasped audibly and flushed a deep red. Embarrassed heat flowed
from him as Misrin moved his rough but loving hands up the silken right arm
of the prisoner. Zenith dared not resist.
     Misrin took this as a sign to continue. Excited, he shifted behind
Zenith and laid both of his hands on his bare and silky shoulders. Zenith
inhaled deeply as Misrin massaged his shoulders gently and lovingly.
     Up until now, Zenith was subconsciously protesting Misrin's touch.
However, the strong, rough hands felt so pleasing on his shoulders and
arms, he quickly changed his mind about the contact. His eyes closed as he
shuddered in pleasure.
     "Does it feel all right?" Misrin asked warily.
     "Yeah..." breathed Zenith. "It feels really good."
     Misrin's heart filled with elation as his hands strayed over Zenith's
chest. He let his hands wander over Zenith's supple flesh, feeling the
pliable softness of his torso. With his heart in his throat, Misrin
encircled Zenith's navel with his index finger.
     "Ah!" moaned Zenith, his breathing rapidly increasing. "I...I don't
think..."
     Misrin decided to ignore the warning. Wrapping Zenith between his
strong, muscular arms, he started to rub the area between Zenith's legs.
     Zenith started to gasp and pant in pleasure. He had never known
passion or compassion as it had been given to him tonight. He inhaled the
musky scent of Misrin's arousal and fell into a euphoric torpor. He became
loose and pliable in Misrin's hands.
     Misrin's hardness became apparent and nudged into Zenith's own bare
back. Zenith was aware of this and began to grind at the erection through
the bars. The two men bound with each other until it was apparent there was
definite attraction.
     Zenith turned around and looked the guard in the face. His own face
was flushed crimson which echoed a strain of vulnerability and innocence in
him. Misrin wasted no time in grasping Zenith by the waist and pulling him
closer.
     Misrin looked up to Zenith for approval, and Zenith nodded warily, a
faint smile at his lips. Misrin's heart tripled in rhythm as he undid the
laces of Zenith's leather pants and stripped them away from his slender
legs.
     Zenith shivered at kneeling naked on the stone floor, and suddenly
felt inadequate in the sight of the guard. Misrin, however, was eager and
his heart was racing. He grasped Zenith's semi-flaccid manhood and began to
massage it carefully with his roughened hands. Zenith gasped in pleasure.
     Misrin stroked rhythmically until the organ revealed to be much larger
than appeared to be straining against the leather pants. He started to
slowly move up and down the eight inch shaft, noting Zenith's reactions of
awe and appreciation.
     Deciding to take the action to a new level, Misrin kneeled while he
indicated to Zenith to stand up. Zenith warily got to his feet while trying
not to wake his fellow prison-mates.
     Misrin grasped Zenith's member and slowly slid it into his own mouth.
He tried to force it all, but gagged. After a brief rest, Misrin attempted
again and succeeded, swallowing the entirety of Zenith in his mouth.
     "Ah!" yelped Zenith audibly. "Oh...Oh GOD that..."
     Misrin moved faster, powered by the gasps and moans of the man he was
servicing. He felt Zenith's pole spasm inside his mouth, and he knew he was
about to climax.
     In this interlude, Misrin had removed his own pants and tunic and sat
simply with a cloth covering around his private areas. Zenith noticed this
and began to feel around Misrin's muscular chest with a small amount of
hair on it. Misrin went back with full force.
     In that moment, Zenith shuddered and let out a whining moan. He
unloaded several streams of cum into Misrin's mouth, and it dribbled down
over the sides.  Zenith started to thrust with his hips and was lost in the
haze of orgasm.
     Zenith started to gasp, overcome with what had happened. It then
occurred to him that Misrin had not had the more enjoyable experience. He
wrapped his arms around the muscular guard and whispered to him.
     "Get your keys."
     Misrin grasped his keyring and opened the iron door slightly, as to
not make any amount of great noise. Zenith slipped out, and the door was
closed behind them.
     Misrin wasted no time with his animal instincts. He quickly tore off
his covering to reveal an erect ten and a half inch cock, glistening with
secretions. With the power of sexual energy, he grasped Zenith to him and
placed his gigantic lance inside of Zenith's gaping orifice.
     "Ahhhh!" moaned Zenith. "It..It hurts..."
     Misrin's rage was quelled momentarily as he thrust slowly in and out
of Zenith's canal, preparing it for use. When he had felt that it had been
readied properly, he began to slam his rock-hard member in and out of
Zenith, each thrust bearing the weight of thunder.
     Within moments, Misrin began to pick up the pace, and Zenith knew why.
Assisting with the thrusting, Zenith began to move back and forth in
rhythm.
     This new rhythm was too much for Misrin, and he grunted and moaned in
raw sexual animalism. He shot stream after stream of hot, sticky cum inside
Zenith's willing hole.
     The two faced each other and sat on the cold ground naked. Wordlessly
huddled in each others' arms on the stone floor, they felt as if they were
back in the womb of Mother Earth, in harmonious bliss with all.