Date: Wed, 28 Aug 2013 05:56:09 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 12 Black Dragon Rising - Gay Science Fiction
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*****
Chapter Twelve
The mind lord regards me once with god-like disdain before he orders
Shar to return me to my cell. The big man bows obediently even though such
behaviors will do nothing to stop his pending ceremorphosis (if that's
indeed his fate). Perhaps the genuflection is made purely out of habit,
however, he shows no such courtesy to me. Rather, he roughly ties my hands
behind my back with rope so coarse it could cut flesh. Good thing I'm
wearing armor to protect my wrists.
"Seriously?" I ask. "As if I could escape this place even if I
wanted."
"Shut up," Shar states. He pulls on the knot as tight as my
corobidian cuffs will allow. If he could go one tighter I'm sure he'd do it
just to see me suffer and grimace in pain.
"A wee bit bitter?" I ask. "Perhaps if you'd been better at your job
you wouldn't be so easily tossed." He pushes me toward the cage, and I
almost stumble. It's only fifty feet away, but he uses it as an opportunity
to debase me one more time. When I hesitate at the door, he kicks me from
behind, propelling me forward into the bars.
"Your time will come," he says. "Then you'll remember Shar."
"Not likely," I say. "An unremarkable man in an unremarkable place."
Shar grunts and then locks the door; behind him the master turns and
ascends the stairs out of the slave pit.
"Shar, listen to me. If you want to be remembered then help me. There
are more of us than there are the mind lords. There's no way they can
control all of us."
"You don't know what you're talking about," he says. "There's no
escaping them."
"There is!" I insist. "But it can't be just one person. With your
help, we could start an uprising...one that could actually succeed. You're
well known down here. You've earned respect from others that have seen you
fight. What I'm saying is true! It doesn't have to be this way. You don't
have to go off and just die. There's a better choice. Untie my hands and
then come for me tonight and take me to where they've stored my
helmet. Everything that my suit can do requires it. We'll get my friends
and free the other slaves and thralls. Once they see what we're up to,
they'll stand with us."
"You think your armor will protect you from the mind lords," he says
with a grunt. "You're more of a fool than I thought."
"It's forged by a god," I tell him. "I have a companion that's very
resourceful. She's a wizard. If we find her, she'll have some kind of
magic that can protect my mind. All I need is a few seconds...just enough
time to gut one of them from neck to navel."
"You speak of treason," he says. "Remember Shar when Master Kierak
eats your brain." Then he turns and disappears up the steps.
I'm silent for a second before I kick the bars with my boots and yell
after him with a bitter "Fuck you."
I wait in my cell like this, hands tied behind my back, and sweat
dripping from my bangs into my eyes. A few of my neighbors leer at me
through their own bars. I turn to one and ask, "What are you lookin' at?"
He just howls like a monkey. In fact, they all do. So many of the
ones they call "slave" seem to have lost their humanity, although there is
a cute boy or two that eye me quietly from similar pens. They never say
anything to me, but they also can't seem to take their eyes off of me. One
looks fourteen, slight of build, and has dark skin and green eyes. They
remind me of creamy jade. He'd need a good washing first though....
I shake my head. Think dammit think!
I sit on the ground for a moment to work my legs through the hoops of
my arms in order to get them in front of me instead of behind me. Then I
think of a knife and watch as one appears on the tip of my boot.
"Nice," I say.
I bend down and slice the ropes from my hands with one simple
tug. With my hands free I stand once again only to come face to face with
one of the many guards down here. This one is broad-shouldered, wearing
patchwork plate mail, and carrying a short spear.
"If you're ready, I'll take you to your new home," he says. The voice
is as thick and unappealing as his black beard. I've never been a facial
hair kind of guy.
I close my mouth which has kind of popped open in surprise. A thief
never likes to be caught red-handed. "Um, sure. As ready as I'll ever be, I
guess."
He removes some keys from a belt and releases me from my cage. I step
out, calculating how hard I'd need to punch him in the neck in order to buy
myself the needed seconds to grab his weapon and then make a sprint for the
stairs. But more guards atop the edge of the pit and the silhouette of a
mind lord or two make me realize just how stupid that idea is. That and I
have no idea where the exit to this realm even lies. Whatever time I'd gain
through a surprise escape would just get eaten up in this subterranean
labyrinth.
There are shouts and cheers coming from the arena. I see light
reflect off the ceiling and hear a clap of something loud: it sounds like
thunder. Interesting, there must be quite a show going on.
I fall in behind the sentry. Once at the top of the stairs, another
slips in behind me and the two of them escort me away from the arena. I
glance over my shoulder just in time to catch a glimpse of Angelaria. Fire
dances along her fingertips and races outward to completely envelop the
priest of Moh-Dehll that once had me in his fat little grasp back in
Soulwarden!
Seeing him at her mercy makes me happy even if it's denying me the
opportunity to sift through his entrails with a knife.
The priest is still clothed in his robes, and they are hardly
magnificent anymore. That must hurt as much as being a slave, or for that
matter, being forced to actually walk someplace. Spotted with mud and
refuse, his sweaty skin seems barely sufficient to contain his girth. He
stumbles under Angelaria's assault and she blasts him with more green fire
from her hands. The feeble shield he has erected around himself collapses
and the fire burns him, making his flesh pop like sizzling bacon. He
screams and topples over into sand so hot it glows.
Angelaria gains the top of the rock, power blazing around her
hands. They've dressed her in barely adequate clothing to expose as much
flesh as possible. And the gleam of the light from off her oiled tummy
makes the cheers in the arena raise to a deafening crescendo.
"Move along," the guard says at my back and prods me forward.
I nod and proceed into the dark. It's broken only occasionally by
torches ensconced upon the wall. I smell the presence of several more slave
pens; I hear their moans, but this isn't our destination. After several
minutes of marching through wide tunnels of darkness, we arrive at a ring
of blood-colored stone. It is lit sparsely by luminous moss, and the sound
of the arena is faded to a low rumble. All around me, I spot openings in
the rock. Are these dwellings? Some contain flickering candlelight. Others
bear thick blankets made to drape in front of entrances as a kind of
doorway.
The dwelling reserved for me looks out upon an axial plaza filled
with an unearthly red radiance. A central pool filled with the squid-like
beings is its origin; at its center lays an impossible blackness that
expands and contracts as if something gargantuan labors and draws breath
beneath those teeming waters. My armed escorts stop and gesture toward an
opening in the cave wall; a narrow staircase ascends to a balcony above.
"Up there. That is where you shall sleep. It is the cave of Master
Kierak."
I take the steps two at a time and crest, noticing a pair of muddy
human tracks that go inside. I recognize them immediately. I push the
curtain aside. There's a large chamber...a sitting room maybe? And another
that most likely serves as living, dining, and recreation room for the
master. There are several throw pillows filled with spongy, dry
moss. Additionally, a petrified human foot with the top hollowed out to
serve as a candy dish sits on a table with human femurs for legs. There's
also a pair of curious looking polished stones. A little too late, I react
to some movement coming from the gloom directly to my left.
"Kian?" Talen's voice asks. "Is that you?"
I rush over to him. He's a little dirty but no worse for wear. He
pulls me down on top of him on a sofa with silk cushions. My arm instantly
goes around his narrow waist, and we kiss for about five minutes.
"You're suffocating me," he says at last.
"Sorry," I say, squeezing him tight and moving to caress his sweaty
ears. "I'm just happy to see you."
"Ditto," Talen states. "Are they going to let us live together?"
"Yes," I tell him. "As long as we keep winning."
"You mean keep killing," he says. "Killing people that aren't
sanctioned by our church. Each and every death that we complete without
assignment from Luminara, Kian, is a sin."
"You're thinking about it wrong," I argue. "Down here it's kill or be
killed. This is survival, and Tethyr won't begrudge us for doing everything
we can to survive."
My words hit home, and Talen is silent for several seconds. "You're
right, of course. I haven't seen Angelaria since we got here. I don't know
what's become of her."
"I just saw her. She was fighting that old priest of Moh-Dehll that
tried to broker the deal between Braedir and the Timeron knights back in
Thorn."
"That bastard's here?" Talen asks, one eyebrow lifting to form an
arch. "Good. I'll gut him for what he did to you."
"I don't think there'll be much left to gut," I say. When he looks at
me startled, I realize I need to explain. "Angelaria hit him with some kind
of spell as I was being led here. I managed to see the shield he used
collapse like it was nothin'. Then she burned him with green fire. I could
smell it, even from hundreds of yards away."
Talen swallows hard. "She can take care of herself, that girl."
I kiss him one more time, as tender as I can, and lap some tears from
his eyes. They're tears of joy, of course, but they taste salty all the
same.
"I saw your fight," I tell him.
"I know," he responds. "I heard you shouting at me. I was so
stressed; I doubt I'd have remembered to pick the lock on the chain. You
saved my life."
"No," I say. "That's all on you, buddy. It was your skill that killed
the giant, not mine. You're as good a fighter as I am."
"You think so?"
"Yes."
Then it's Talen who initiates the kissing. Gods I love the feeling of
his tongue on mine and the press of his body on my chest as he rolls me
over on the sofa upon which we lie. It makes my giant cock jump in my
armor.
"Do you have a plan?" he asks me, cupping the codpiece over my
throbbing balls.
I trail my hands down his armor, smoothing over the bumps where the
killsuit says his ribs lie beneath a tantalizing veneer of metal so thin,
it might as well be silk. "Maybe. I think if we can get our helmets, then
we can fight them. Perhaps even take Master Kierak hostage. They have some
kind of social rank down here, and he's moving up in importance. Kierak as
our hostage is probably enough to get them to show us the way out. As far
as their social and political system goes, I wanted to learn more, but
Shar's unwilling to help. He's too indoctrinated into being a thrall and
just doing what he's told to do."
"That's too bad," Talen says. He squeezes my hand gently. "I've been
here for a few hours. The master is gone but he instructed me to show you
to our quarters. We're to share a room with no wall that looks out over
several stone chairs. He wants you to make love to me every night before an
audience of paying guests. I guess there's visitors to this cavern that
have already expressed great interest in seeing you fuck me. They said
they'll make me a virgin tonight just for the experience. I'm a little
afraid of what that means."
I kiss him on the forehead. "You know I'll be gentle."
Talen nods. "But it's taken a while for me to get used to you. I
think they want to see some blood. I hate that they're making me share you
with others, even if it's only visual. Your body should be for me alone to
see."
I turn my head to one side. "Did they say anything about me? Do they
have any other plans than to use us for entertainment?"
"Entertainment is all we're good for," Talen says. "And to be honest,
you're mostly what gets talked about here. They want to know if you'd still
choose me if they paraded several other young men before you that are
younger than I. It's like they want to test our bond or see if other boys
tempt you to get hard."
I suck on his lip as delicately as I can and stare him in the
eyes. "Talen, listen. I love you and we'll get out of this together. I'd
also never choose anyone over you. Not ever. I'd rather die."
This makes him hug me yet again.
"I love you, Kian," he says. "I've learned a little of what it means
to be a thrall in this pit. It's based on sexual dominance, with those of
us who bottom being likened to a kind of third sexuality. You're dick is
so big that other bottoms here in the pit want you for themselves. The
bottoms are the most powerful caste of thrall because they're believed to
be made by Chagidiel who is worshiped by the mind lords. So it makes sense
that there's so many of them. Master Kierak says there are a hundred
bottoms to every top and that many of the tops do not survive the
oiling. Those that do survive the oiling oftentimes meet their end on the
sands of the bloody arena. Bottoms never have to submit to the oiling,
which is another bonus for taking it in the ass. However, a bottom is never
allowed to choose their top."
"I guess that's why Master Kierak asked me if I was a breeder."
"Yes. I knew what you'd say, so I had to say something different if
we're going to be together. It turns out that if you choose me..."
"--You mean when, because I WILL choose you."
He smiles. "Okay, WHEN you choose me, then I'll be in charge of
taking you back and forth to the arena. Sometimes we'll fight as a team,
but there may be occasions when it's just you that has to fight. That
judgment call rests entirely with me. I'll be like your manager."
"Does a manager get any other special duties?"
Talen giggles and nibbles on my neck. "I'm allowed to show you off
whenever I want. To suck you off in public brings even more social status
here as they know no one else will be allowed to do so. The more games you
win, the more glory we become as a team, the more important Master Kierak
becomes. Maybe I'll get access to places other than the arena and our
quarters. If they give me that kind of freedom..."
"You'll be able to find our helmets," I finish for him.
"Yes."
"Have I told you you're brilliant?" I ask him.
"Yes, but I never tire of hearing about it." Talen pauses to clear
his throat. "I guess while I'm being prepared for tonight's show you're
going to participate in the oiling ritual to make certain that you're who
you say you are."
"Don't worry about me," I say. "I'll pass it."
He nods. "I can't NOT worry. But I've found out some stuff about it
at least. Apparently it's some kind of ceremony that's designed to make
your body even better than it already is. I get the impression that someone
as well-endowed as you is unusual down here, and they've certain things
that they expect you to be able to do. I don't think that our making love
tonight or any night for that matter is as much about you and I as it is
about them. They'll be paying to see you do things to me, and they'll want
their money's worth. They weren't too specific about the oiling, but I get
the impression that it won't be pleasant. You might even hate it."
I clench my teeth. But without my helmet, there's nothing I can
do. Talen and I need to bide our time until we can retrieve our weapons,
get into contact with Angelaria, and plan an escape.
*****
Here ends chapter 12. I intend to post chapter 13 next week, but it may be
later than normal due to moving apartments and downtime associated with
services like internet. If you like my stories, please consider purchasing
a copy of "Slipstream" and "Oculus" from the links at my website. They are
complete (no waiting!). "Caledfwlch" (the sequel) will be coming soon!