Date: Fri, 20 Dec 2013 01:33:14 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Black Dragon Rising Chapter 27 - Gay Science Fiction

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                                      *****

                              Chapter Twenty-Seven

      That night I tell Talen I'm not feeling well enough to sleep with
him. It's a lie, but one I've to make in order to slip out and see
Talisac. So my disappointed boyfriend finds another room to sleep in, and
I've no one to blame but myself.

      Sigh.

      "I'm still recovering from the poison," I tell him. "I-I just think I
need another night of rest before we...well...you know..."

      "-Fuck?" he asks. He kisses me on the lips and teases me with his
smooth slippery tongue.  "I love you. We don't have to have sex, you know?
I could just spoon with you all night. Wouldn't that be grand?" His eyes
look so hopeful it almost makes me cancel my plans.

      I really hate lying about this.

      I hold him close so that he can smell me. "I can't be in the same bed
and NOT think about shagging you. Trust me, this is for the best."

      "All right," Talen says, albeit a bit glum. Then he retires for the
evening while I run through my head the entirety of my plot to free Talisac
without attracting anyone's notice.

      I close my door, wait five minutes or so, and then blow out the
candles. But I'm not turning in for the night. Instead I climb out the
window and drop down from the roof near a copse of gooseberry
bushes. Getting to my feet, I smooth out my trousers and run to where
Talisac is being watched.

      As I approach, I find Pink Hair guarding him.

      This should be an easy enough problem to overcome.

      I duck into the shadows and when he's not looking, I come up behind
the gnome and strike him hard at a pressure point near the right
temple. It's one that (on humans) knocks a man unconscious. It turns out
that gnome anatomy is not much different because he responds exactly as
intended and falls into the dirt near Talisac's boots.

      The doctor holds up his hands for me to untie him.

      "You're late," he says. "These curs have kept me bound and in one
place all day. You owe your life to me, lad. Don't ever forget that."

      I pick at the knot with my fingers until it comes loose. Then he
stands up, leaning heavily on my shoulder. "Are you all right?" I ask.

      "A bit stiff."

      "So...how does this work? What must I do for you to be able to tell
if the worm's dislodged from my brain stem?"

      The doctor sneers. He smells of stale sweat and fish; it's rather
unpleasant. "Let's go somewhere more private," he states. Near him is a
pack containing some things he took from his laboratory under the
mountain. He grabs it and swings it over one shoulder before pointing into
the forest. "Shall we?"

      I don't trust him, but it's not like I've a lot of options.

      I nod; he takes lead. We disappear into the woods, and I make careful
note of every landmark be it stone, moss-covered log, or creek. Even in the
dark I should be able to find a huge boulder amidst a
clearing. Nevertheless, we walk for an hour to the north, and it gets
harder to recall my exact path with each passing step. Our heading takes us
straight toward a hill that rises above the trees. There a pair of devil's
horns made of granite serves to hold the silver moon captive between two
rocky promontories.

      At its base, he calls for a stop.

      "Build a small fire," he orders, "over there in the shadow of that
cliff wall. No one from the town will see it, and we need as much heat as
we can get tonight."

      I do so, silently gathering fallen branches in the crook of my arm
while constantly aware that the good doctor is rummaging through his pack
and withdrawing metal tools that gleam wickedly.

      Somewhere in the forest, a wolf howls. Blood will be spilt tonight.

      After the fire's going, he walks forward and picks out two trees
growing almost on top of one another; he lashes rope between both. As he
does this, my eyes are drawn to a mysterious orb that swirls with billowing
smoke. He places it on a small cushion next to a box with a small red
button on it. The surface of the box is adorned with lightning bolts made
from mother-of-pearl.

      "Do you like the Eye of Chagidiel?" Talisac asks.

      I shrug. "What is it?"

      "A journal of sorts," Talisac replies, tightening the rope. Next he
attaches leather manacles to the ends. "I speak into it, and others who
share my profession can review my notes."

      "Notes? What kind of notes?" I ask, suddenly nervous.

      "Patient notes," he states. "The procedure I'm performing on you
tonight to locate the larva the mind lords placed inside your body is very
unusual. What I say in my medical notes will benefit others."

      "I didn't consent to this."

      "I didn't ASK for your consent," Talisac replies. "This is
non-optional."

      I swallow. "Are you going to keep changing the rules of our
agreement? If you do, I could just kill you now."

      "My you are full of yourself," he replies. "I'd heard as much. I've
promised to help you, and I'll do just that. You won't be permanently
damaged by anything that transpires tonight. But I need your full
cooperation. You also might keep in mind that the only reason I know how to
do any of this is BECAUSE of that jewel. Flesh crafters of Chagidiel share
knowledge only with each other and knowledge, dear boy, is power."

      I swallow hard, but I've to admit that he makes for a good
argument. "Fine."

      "Good," he says, eyeing me from head to toe. "Now, I take great
pleasure in saying this: get naked and come over here so that I can
restrain you for the procedure."

      Slowly, I peel off my clothes. The air is cool and it dries the sweat
on my skin. When I'm almost nude, I walk over to him with just my boots on
to shield them from pine needles and sharp rocks. He ties first my left and
then right arm to the trees and then my ankles until I'm slightly spread
eagled between the tree trunks.

      "Why must I be cuffed?" I ask.

      "You should've asked that BEFORE we started. But it's to keep you
from lashing out at me while I invade your flesh."

      "Is it going to be painful?"

      "Very," he says. Then he gags me with a rubber ball attached to a
strap that snaps to the back of my head.

      Before he begins, Talisac picks up the swirling orb that he calls
"The Eye of Chagidiel."  Resting in his palm, a small black spot forms
amidst the turbulent white clouds. I feel a strange presence; it's as if a
hundred eyes look upon me. When that happens, Talisac speaks to it and his
soft words describe me in a clinical and disturbing way.

      "Subject is 6-feet in height, approximately 150-pounds with blond
hair and blue eyes. He's Atlantean and naturally hairless with the
exception of the appropriate patches located in his slender armpits and of
course, around his sweet looking genitals. He possesses a cute quality I
associate only with teenage virgins who've recently undergone puberty but
lack the harsh gangliness associated with full adulthood. His feet are
perfectly formed as are his hands and I have under great authority that
they exude sexual pleasure from every pore. Even as I'm his doctor, I find
myself wanting to kiss and lick them but I shall maintain my
professionalism. The subject is more ripped than I thought possible. He
possesses virtually no body fat, and the musculature on display before me
is impressive. It's the kind you'd expect to find on the most extreme
athletes who've starved themselves for a week.

      "We are here to see if the grimlock brain larva has descended from
the youth's spinal cord which raises the skin at the center of his back
into a ridge. The young man has a provocative penis, made more so by how
lean he is. It's covered in veins, measures almost 12-inches, and is uncut
with a length of foreskin that swallows the glans entirely except for a
small pink opening wherein hides his urethra that can eject royal jelly
after only a minute of stimulation. It will have to be stretched out to
remove the worm when it's finally descended into place. Please note that
the hue of our subject's thin, yet silky pubic hair is so well-matched to
his exquisite golden skin as to appear almost invisible.  I'll now apply
the device to his balls," he says, setting down the orb.

      In the next instant, Talisac takes a leather harness and fastens it
about my genitals. It has the effect of forcing my hardened dick away from
my abdomen and into a more horizontal position. It's uncomfortable and
pinches me some, but it doesn't cause pain. When he pulls his hands back,
they're covered in my sweat.

      "There, that's better," Talisac says. "The first part of the
restraint is in position."

      He does pause to lick his fingers. Fucking bastard.

      But what did he mean by 'the first part?'

      He reaches for a metal instrument and then carefully places it over
my dangling, sensitive testicles. It feels dreadfully cold, and he closes
it with an audible click. When he lets go, the weight causes immediate
discomfort.

      "The worm responds to pain," Talisac says, "so we'll have to induce
pain for me to track its progress."

      To my horror, Talisac inserts a tightening screw. Try as I might to
adjust to a more comfortable position, the manacles and ropes hold me
tight.

      The hardened steel plates push steadily toward each other and my
young, delicate balls are between them.

      He turns the screw another revolution and pain floods my body.

      I scream into the gag.

      When they're close enough that they touch, the intense pain
begins. I'm screaming so hard the back of my throat hurts. Sweat resulting
from my agony breaks out all over my skin.

      Please...I beg into the recesses of my mind, I'll DO ANYTHING. Just
stop.

      But Talisac can't hear my thoughts. Rather, there's only my wide,
terrified eyes and these just make him laugh.

      "We've only just begun, child," he teases, flicking one of my nipples
with his finger.

      He continues to turn the tightening screws. Does he wish to destroy
me?

      At last he stops, and my whole body quakes in the throes of pure
torment. Talisac stands back to regard his work before picking up the
sphere again.

      "My subject glistens with sweat from the top of his cute blond head
to his now shiny boots.  I love the way the light catches on his body; it's
quite beautiful."

      I swing my legs violently but the restraints hold.

      "I shall apply the sensitivity cream to his penis now," Talisac
says. He pulls out a jar and rubs this clear gel into my skin. "The
sensitivity cream will heighten any of the nerve signals from his erection,
giving me full access to his nervous system the same as the larva
possesses. Hopefully and with the aid of the lightning box, the worm will
spasm enough that I can detect it."

      As he continues to rub my dick, my erection hardens like steel in his
hands and just massaging it back and forth makes precum drool from the
tip. It's the most distressing and tender thing I've ever experienced.

      "Next," the doctor says to the sphere, "is the application of our
sound."

      He grabs a shiny metallic object I recognize, the long and thin
object he once inserted into my urethra. Carefully, he applies lubricant to
its length and then approaches my penile opening, squeezing my cockhead
delicately between thumb and forefinger for insertion. But whereas he
inserted it one way before, this time he's turned it around.

      "You'd best not move," he says, "or things we don't want to get cut
may be damaged."

      He forces the largest part into my organ, and it's so huge, there's
some tearing and blood.  Fuck does it hurt.

      "We'll have to do this several more times," he states to the Eye,
"before the larva can come out. He needs to have a much wider opening for
the worm to be removed from his body intact."

      I yell into the ball gag.

      "A visible lump is now visible as I insert this into the boy's
penis. Tracking it's path, I can see I have eleven inches to go before I
get to my target. It's catching on something...I'll have to force
it. There...that's better."

      He pushes and tugs and pushes some more. Tears flow down my cheeks at
the punishment he's wrecking on my genitals.

      But when he gets it all the way embedded inside me, he slowly strokes
my young cock, stretching and squeezing it with deliberate pressure. Many
painful yet sweet sensations pummel my mind; I feel so confused.

      "The sound is fully in place," he says, and I look down seeing that
only a little of the metal extends from my lacerated opening.

      Talisac sets the sphere down and then takes hold of the lightning
box. Inside there are three wires. One of which he attaches to the end of
the sound, while he clips the others to my ears.

      "The patient's dainty ears are sufficiently primed with blood vessels
to make this work. He's now ready. I place the lightning box as instructed
and have one attached to the end of the sound while the others are now
clipped to his lobes completing the circuit. I will now close it by
pressing the button. It's quite possible my patient will go unconscious,
but I'll be able to see the worm move if it's under the skin, thereby
telling me how much more work is needed for it to descend properly into his
scrotum."

      It's as if time stands still; I'm absolutely terrified.

      Talisac presses the button.

      A powerful jolt of electricity fills my body with heat from a million
tiny stings. I scream and lose control of my bowels. With shit running down
my thighs, I collapse into darkness.

      Talisac wakes me by splashing water on my face. I'm lying on the
ground naked, and he's putting away his tools. My whole body aches and I'm
wet with sweat. He throws me a towel to wipe up a few pieces of excrement
that cling to my skin.

      "Get dressed," he says. "It's only a few hours before morning."

      "You fucking asshole," I say. As I pull myself to my feet, pain robs
my body of strength and makes me spasm uncontrollably.

      "Fucking asshole? Just remember that it was you who asked for this."

      I reach for my trousers and begin to put them on. "Did you find it?"

      "Yes," he says, putting the Eye of Chagidiel back into a velvet
sack. "The larva has descended halfway down your spine. It'll take a couple
of more weeks for it to get to where I can extract it."

      I throw my shirt on. "I'm not letting you do this again."

      He shrugs. "Then we'll just have to guess when it's the right
time. You'll start to piss blood.  That's the first indication that it's
taken up residence in your balls. But getting it out will be hell.  You'd
be wise to stretch some more to make the passage easier."

      "No," I say. "I hate that thing inside me. It's not how a dick's
supposed to be worked."

      He laughs. "What you went through tonight is tame in comparison to
the tortures flesh crafters can visit on pretty boys like you. I was a
professional, exactly as I promised. And you're unharmed. Instead of
calling me names, you should thank me for putting up with you."

      "You enjoyed yourself," I say. "That's thanks enough."

      He sneers, "Indeed it is."

      "Come on, let's get back to town," I tell him.

      "I'm not going back with you," he replies.

      I finish tying on my shirt and then ball my fist. "You've got no
choice."

      "Ah but I do, lad," he says. "You're going to let me go. I won't
return to be tied up by those ruffians you call friends. Nor will I be
subjected to their callous whimsy. In two weeks' time, I promise to find
you to begin the surgery to remove the parasite. Until then, you know that
you need to make your body an inhospitable place for it. Continue to watch
your diet and reduce your body fat to as close to zero as you can
get. You've made tremendous progress, and once I electrified your body I
spotted the larva easily as a bump just to the left of your lower spine. On
someone with more fat, I'd have seen nothing."

      "How can I trust you?" I ask. "How do I know you'll find me?"

      "You can't trust me completely," he says. "Consider this: I wanted to
fuck you tonight and I didn't. I've wanted to rape you countless times, and
I've had the opportunity but never took the bait.  That should warrant a
little trust, shouldn't it?"

      I swallow. "Why haven't you?"

      He shoulders his pack. "You're the most beautiful boy in the world,"
he says. "Anyone that denies it is stupid. It's a shame to hurt something
so unbelievably gorgeous. But you'd be wise not to keep tempting me. A
man's willpower only goes so far."

      And with that, Talisac turns and leaves me there in the middle of the
forest.

      The next morning I awake to a stiff breeze and the resounding trumpet
of horns from beneath my window sill. All of that horn blowing seems so out
of place with the sky still draped in stars and the east only now turning a
shade of rose as dawn hints at the coming day.

      To my surprise, after last night's ordeal there's only a couple of
small bruises marring my otherwise lovely genitalia. Quickly I dress,
dashing cold water on my face and wiping my hands on a soft terry cloth by
the wash basin. My ribs are a little less sore today and my right arm's
almost fully healed.

      I meet Talen outside my room.

      He's wearing his skin-tight killsuit with his helmet cradled under
one arm.

      Talen hands me a sword and helps me strap it across my back. "It's
from Karandras," he says. Then, sullenly, he looks me in the
eyes. "Kian...there's some bad news I've got to deliver."

      "What?" I ask, marveling at the weapon. I tighten my belt around the
colorful tabard sewn from patches of yellow and red triangles. Is there a
mirror around here somewhere?

      "Talisac's escaped during the night. Someone knocked Pink Hair out
and when he awoke, the doctor was long gone."

      I pretend to look shocked. "Did anyone bother to track him?"

      "Correldon said they headed north."

      "They?"

      Talen nods, "He and the one that set him free. Cory says it must have
been an elf because of how light his footprints were."

      "Kuanni," I say, voice trailing away.

      "That's what Cory thinks." I can tell Talen wants to ask me something
and is holding back until he finds just the right moment.

      "What?"

      "Did we really need him? I-I mean...you kept saying that you needed
him for something? Is this bad that Talisac is no longer with us?"

      I laugh. "Not at all. Good riddance, I say. He was nothing but
trouble anyhow."

      Talen breathes a sigh of relief and then hugs me. "I was hoping you'd
say that."

      He licks my neck and I give him a tender caress.

      The two of us descend the steps and grab fresh-baked bread and
biscuits covered in country gravy in the tavern on the main floor. The
price is cheap: a mere copper farthing. While I'm ladling gravy over my
biscuits with a fork, I notice one unit of twenty men lining up in
formation before Karandras. I must say...the commander looks regal and
crisp in his war garb; he should as he's sitting atop a well-oiled brown
saddle with golden stirrups, and this on the back of a huge Clydesdale to
boot. Each soldier is well-equipped too, sporting a thick leather breast
plate, a round shield, and a short sword. Curiously, some examine their
weapons half-heartedly while others play at them with zest.

      What should I make of this?

      Behind Karandras stands a train of wagons hauling another hundred men
with medicinal supplies, surgeon's equipment, and stores of food. I wash my
breakfast down with some water and then pick up my pack. Next, I search for
Angelaria in the crowd but don't immediately spot her.

      This vexes me. If she's in the company of Calvin, I'll be sorely
disappointed. I might as well start with him though JUST to cover my
bases. Jealousy, Kian, I warn myself. It's the green-eyed beast and you
look better in blue. It's not that I distrust Angelaria, or that I even
think this merchant has ANYTHING over me. But if anyone squirts a baby in
her womb, it's going to be me.

      All of these self-defeating thoughts are swiftly dismissed when I see
her descend the stairs.

      I guess I could have gone and knocked on her door.

      The first thing she does is to walk over to me and press her body
firmly to my back so that I can feel the warmth of her bosom in the hollow
between my shoulder blades.

      I feel better instantly. I'm such a fool; she wants me more than
plants crave water.

      Angelaria tickles the sides of my face with her fingers. "Your hair's
growing out," she says.  "I'd like a hirsute lover." She takes a big
whiff. "And gods you smell good. Did you sleep well?"

      I think it's awesome she finds my natural scent so appealing but what
the hell does hirsute even mean?

      When I don't answer immediately, Calvin seizes the opportunity like a
carp snapping at bait.  Where the fuck did he come from anyway? I need to
pay closer attention to my surroundings.

      "I sure hope not," Calvin says, from around a corner.

      He's dressed in thick studded leather that's barely sufficient to
straddle his girth. His arms are bare though; it's probably so he can show
off his bulging muscles.

      He walks over to us; his body produces a peculiar gait adapted from
years of dealing with the immense size of his arms and legs. He claps me
soundly on the shoulder, so much so that I almost fall against the future
mother of my children.

      Fuck is he ever strong.

      "How are you my dear?" he asks Angelaria. "I trust that such a
splendid woman found her quarters to be satisfactory? And did you not like
the flowers that I paid to have sent to your room?"

      I look at her accusingly; she ignores me for the moment.

      "They're fine, dear," she says. "But I'm afraid that I don't like the
scent of the wildflowers."

      Calvin presses his lips together firmly. "I see. I'll take a note of
that."

      Talen joins us. "Pink Hair's finished eating. I don't know about the
rest of you, but I'm a little edgy. It looks like the commander's ready to
move out. I think we should fall-in behind the main unit. That way, we can
stay out of their way."

      "These young men are certainly not dullards," Calvin
states. "Angelaria, perhaps you'd like to ride with me on a horse."

      "Thank you sir," she says, curtseying. "I hope it will not be a rough
ride as I wish to keep my hymen intact."

      That makes EVEN ME blush. However, Calvin's smile only grows more
oily, if that's even possible. Oh you'd love to fuck her, wouldn't you?

      "I'd no idea you were a virgin," he says.

      "A girl needs to save herself for her husband."

      I grip Talen by the shirt. "I don't think so. You and I are going to
walk out in front. It'll be better that way."

      "Okay, Kian" Talen says. "Ease up a little okay?"

      "Sorry."  I straighten his collar and strut outside, clenching my
fist over and over again. This guy's really starting to bother me.

      Karandras rides up, pulling a second horse by the bridle. "Do you
like the sword?"

      "Yes," I reply.

      "Good. The weapon's Ercestrian," he says. "The cape of Ercestres lies
far from here, so it's not to be taken lightly that you carry a weapon of
such fine quality."

      I shield my eyes from the first sun, which is just now peeking
through the tops of the pine trees surrounding the village. "I fought an
Ercestrian once and killed him. It happened when I was a prisoner amongst
the mind lords of the deep."

      This causes the commander to raise an eyebrow. "I'd not heard this of
you, Kian. But it doesn't surprise me. Perhaps when we're done with this
campaign you'll tell me how you escaped the slavery of the mind lords. It's
said amongst the people of Balsora that to be enslaved by the mind lords is
to suffer a fate worse than death. Their powers to control your thoughts
are legendary and their depravity is well-known among the evils of this
world."

      "Well it's not without reason. S-sometimes my dreams are still
haunted by the things I've seen down there."  I take the reigns of the
horse he offers and slip my boot within the stirrup and haul myself into
the saddle.

      "Ercestrian warriors are renowned in all the kingdoms of Wynwrayth as
possessing the finest arms. There's a legend amongst the people of faraway
Kandaleya of a root that grows in Ercestres.  When mixed with other spices
and fed to newborns, it changes their eyes to the color of gold and allows
them to see things that no one else can see. Even magical things."

      "Here in the west we call that ability 'true sight,'" Talen offers.

      Talen rides up on a similar mount but it's to his heels that my eyes
go. They're adorned with some beautiful spurs that accentuate the appeal of
his feet. I find myself licking my lips.

      "It's not a legend but fact," Talen says. "The herb's called
goldroot, and it's prized among herbalists for its seasoning
properties. But it's very expensive and difficult to maintain.  Only the
rich in Ercestres can afford it. Thus, only the nobility possess this
perception that you've been describing. I used to have a friend in the
library of Clothol who was Ercestrian. He told me about it once."

      I pull out the sword that Karandras gave me and examine its mirror
polish and extremely sharp blade.

      "Ercestrian nobles operate the most successful smiths in the
kingdom. They use only high quality metals that cool at different
temperatures thus producing a slight bend to the blade. They also use their
true sight to examine the weapons for any flaws that lie undetected to the
naked eye.  If they find them, they return it to the forge and start
anew. Nothing ever leaves an Ercestrian forge unless it's perfect."

      I re-sheath the weapon with a gesture of respect. "It's a wonderful
gift, commander," I say.

      "You know quite a bit about Ercestrian history," a familiar voice
says from atop a white charger.

      It's Correldon and he's dressed in gold chainmail. About his
shoulders is his magnificent bow accompanied by an elven longsword. His
feet are wrapped in knee-high suede boots and his gold chain is mostly
hidden beneath a deep green cloak. "This is surprising considering your
education."

      It's a snide quip, but my Talen doesn't say anything to defend
himself.

      Cory, sometimes you're such an asshole. An asshole I wouldn't mind
fucking mind you, but an asshole nonetheless.

      "Ercestrians are perhaps the pinnacle of human society in the making
of swords and weapons. But it's all crude when compared to my elven
blade. This is to be expected since we've lost more knowledge as a
civilization than your society has managed to piece together in the days
since humans first learned to clothe themselves with animal skins."

      "We're not here to debate issues of race," Karandras states.

      Correldon watches me and Talen carefully. "No, commander, you're
right. We're not here to debate matters of race. What I say is not up for
debate. I'm simply stating a fact and maybe educating these young boys,
since either of them know so little of actual history, much less sword
making. I wanted to make sure that Talen knew the right and the wrong of it
before he went repeating it to anyone else."

      "Even if it were true," Talen offers, "History told by the elves is
often colored by their less than humble perspective. But remember one thing
Cory, it's not the sword that makes the man, but the man that makes the
sword."

      Correldon snorts derisively before turning and guiding his mount to
the front of the column; Karandras follows him.

      Soon, we begin to move out. It's a slow pace at first, but before
long it quickens along the old road from Rendla Fee to the outpost at
Wraith Watch some ten leagues distant. It's going to be an interesting day
and I intend to make the most of it.

                                   *****

I shall post Chapter 28 the week after New Year's. Have a Happy Holiday,
and I'll see you in 2014.  In the meantime, if you'd like to read more of
Kian's adventures, I've another story that I've completed that I'd love to
get some opinions on. Let me know by email, and I'll send you the full pdf
to read. It's been edited to completion and would be my Christmas gift to
you, my faithful readers.