Date: Mon, 8 Nov 1999 00:51:16 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: PofD4:.Secret.of.the.Turtle.Men

			 SECRET OF THE TURTLE MEN
				 Chapter 2
			"Angels, Djinni and Ifriti"

     Pavel had to admit that his only prior experience with mountain passes
had been the relatively clean, straight and open pass to Connobar.  He had
expected this to be the same, a wavering but clear valley through which
they would skirt the mountains from the Arab plains to his own jungle-clad
valley.  Instead, he had been subjected to the actual experience of
mountain travel; they rode around boulder-clogged gulleys by traversing the
mountain's side, they climbed the mountain directly up to get around a
sharp shoulder, to find themselves forced to turn back down once again to
continue their travels.  Time and again they had to get off the sukhusans
and walk them over stretches of terrain, the sukhusans balking and Pavel
not blaming them for not wanting to risk the trek.  Whatever the path back
to his home valley would be, it would not be an easy journey.  He was
wishing he'd asked the Angels for help after all!  They could have flown
him over the treetops (flying!--he shuddered) and he could have come back
and steered their little caravan the right way.  As it was, they had to
turn back again and again, and try another way.
     So three days later, they were still climbing around the long, slow
slopes of the first mountain and Pavel knew there were more beyond it.
When they came into a clear space where their path climbed the mountain
flank, Pavel could look back and see far out over the plains.  But he could
also look ahead and see that the mountains were still ahead.  He was
beginning to worry about their food supply; as a child of the jungle able
to pluck food from the very trees around him, he hadn't insisted on proper
preparation for their long trek. Aram, more practical, had chosen what he
had considered to be a week's supply of food, and he had planned well, but
what if they got lost in these mountains?  Pavel decided that unless they
saw a clear way through the mountains within the next two days, they would
turn back.  Water, they must find before the end of the day if they were
not to start rationing it, perhaps by making the sukhusans travel without.
Sukhusans, the Desire-altered progeny of horses even though they more
resembled camels, could not travel overlong without water; even though it
must come from their master's canteens, they had to have it.
     His hands, which had been hanging at his sides for a rest on this
gentle stretch, reached back around Aram.  The pink mist was as strong in
the mountains as it was in his jungle, perhaps more so since it seemed to
accumulate in the valleys, and what is a pass but a form of valley?  They
had dipped down again on their trail and now were traveling a wide, gentle
downslope strewn with only low bushes and the occasional boulder lying
alone to be gotten around, and he saw the mist waiting for them below.  Why
wait until the last minute?  Aram's clothing, a long but slitted tunic and
the leggings, yielded easily before his now-practiced hands, and he found
and fondled Aram's hardening prong happily.  Looking back, Jethro, who had
taken over guiding the sukhusan from Jassem who now was perched behind him,
was getting similar attentions from Jassem and a wide smile rested on the
blond, grey-clad soldier of Connobar.
     "We should find a place and rest." Pavel suggested.
     "I feel we must travel on for a time more." Aram protested.  "There
may be water in the valley below, and the day is waning."  Aram then, too,
thought of their diminishing water supply.
     Pavel leaned forward.  "Then perhaps you could rise up on your saddle
for me?"  And his cock smeared precome on Aram's back, a damp spot Pavel
had stained and restained much these last few days in this manner.
     Aram sighed and obeyed, but it was a sigh of joy.  Pavel and he had
done this much in their ride, Pavel fucking Aram during the ride and Pavel
giving himself in turn to Aram at their rests off the sukhusan.  So Aram
rose up, Pavel slid forward slightly, and Aram came back down and his anus
landed near-perfectly on Pavel's cock.
     A sleeve of hot, wet pleasure slid over Pavel's pud and he murmured.
"Ah, my bodyguard, friend and companion, this travel has been worth it for
these times if nothing else."
     "Gladly do I give myself to my sultan." Aram gasped in return as he
nestled himself into position, partly on Pavel's thighs and partly on the
saddle.  The sukhusan looked back and snorted a protest at their motions,
and turned its attention back to the trail, obviously offended at the crude
manners of his riders.  Pavel laughed, the sukhusan's sniff had reminded
him unbearably of Telar, the rather pompous leader of the Turtle Man his
father had dealt with on several occasions after the war with Connobar.
Telar still could not reconcile the Angel's alliance with Facilitata with
his concept that the Angels were the Masters, to be obeyed in all things,
but certainly never to be commanded by mere humans!  His father had to
argue with Telar nearly every time he needed the Angels' assistance.
     Aram pressed himself back against Pavel's chest and began to bounce on
Pavel's cock, and Pavel clutched him tightly to hold this slim Arab lover
steady while he ministered to Pavel's prod.
     There was the rather cool wind about them, almost a bite to it, such
as Pavel had not experienced since his ride in the turtle bower to the
Arabian plains, there was the steady jogging trod of the sukhusan beneath
him which translated to a rocking motion of his own body, there was the way
Aram turned this rocking motion into the tempo of their lovemaking with his
own rise and falls, so that it made the clops of the hooves merge with the
smaller sound of Aram's ass as it suckled and clutched at his cock, so that
the entire world had combined with Pavel in his lovemaking, and his own
body responded to this, he held Aram now less in caution than in passion,
his cock responding in ripples of electric passion in the same tempo as the
clop-clop of the hooves, the moves of the sukhusan, the moves of Aram, the
strokes of the cool wind, the motions of his world, all coalesced and
descended upon him, pressed him down until his world was that of Aram and
himself, his eternity was lost in this moment, there was no other world, no
other mission than to fuck this man.
     It was the mist, Pavel realized dreamily, and knowing better than to
fight it, he turned himself over to it, drinking in the musky aroma of
Aram, tasting his shoulder which he had partially bared with his tight
clasp around Aram's body, breathing, drinking in his Arab stud, as if he
could somehow quench all desires in his life in this way, if he could just
feel, taste, smell enough, enough...
     "Ah, hah, hah!" Pavel grunted his warning to his dark lover, and Aram
reacted by running his body up to high speed, and the sukhusan took the
motions for urging on, and the sukhusan broke into a run down the hill,
jolting their bodies, jolting Pavel's senses with the faster motions, they
were flung pell-mell in this fashion down the mountain while Pavel gave
himself to his lust, which had been now fanned into a frenzy.
     "Guh, guh, uh, huh, hahh, HUH-GUHHNNK!" he groaned and his seed pumped
out of him upwards into Aram, and Aram writhed in his embrace and Pavel saw
through the dim haze of his lust-blurred eyesight that Aram was pelted the
sukhusan's neck with his own sperm, white arcs of jism flying to land on
the pink hide of the beast suspended in their pink world.
     Pink, they were surrounded by the mist; no wonder Pavel had been slave
to his passion even in this rampant, headlong flight.  It was a marvel that
they had not fallen off, still squirting their jism as they fell perhaps to
their deaths!
     Pavel forced his traitor body to obey now, while it would, while
passion was temporarily slaked, and he steaded Aram on his perch and even
took the reins briefly in hand, while Aram gasped for air and his senses
and, regaining them, gave a cry of surprise and took back the reins, hauled
back hard on the sukhusan.
     But it ignored him, it pummeled down into the valley, and Pavel looked
around to see that Jethro's sukhusan was doing the same, Jethro hauling
desperately and inexpertly at the reins.  Jassem was nowhere to be found!
     "Jassem!" he called, releasing Aram to turn further in the saddle.
"Jassem!"
     "They got him!" Jethro shouted back.
     "Who?" Then he felt a hard yank on his shoulders, hard hands which
hauled at his body, more hands which lifted him by his arms and upwards off
the sukhusan and he understood dimly what had happened.
     He turned his eyes up to look at the Angels that had taken him, and
found himself staring into unfamiliar forms.  It was as if an Angel had
mated with a Slan, to create this big, wide-faced, sharp-toothed form.
     "Ah!  The Ifriti!" Aram called.  "My Sultan has been captured by the
Ifriti!"
     "Ifriti?" Pavel said as Aram's voice, still calling, became fainter
from distance.  He knew better than to struggle, he was airborne and in
their hands, life and death belonged now to these two unfamiliar creatures
that carried him one on either side of him.  Somewhat to his surprise, he
was not fear-stricken, but steady, calmer than he had ever been in his
life, as if he could appraise the risks clearly and take the best line of
action.
     The Ifriti were wide, broad-shouldered, bodies covered in hair, not
with fur as an animal, but as a very, very hairy man would be, eyes were
yellow and black rays radiating out from a black pinpoint in the center,
even the faces bearing hair, not in a beard, but in equal profusion all
over, as if Pavel's own thinner chest hair had been transplanted onto this
face, so that a third of what he saw was hair and the rest was skin.  The
wings, too, were not the beautiful feathers of the Angels, but were
articulated skin, the blue veins showing clearly through the thin brownish
flesh that was nearly translucent where the air and strain of flying
stretched it taut.
     "Can you understand me?" Pavel asked of the Ifrit on his left, when
there was no response.  "I am not a Turtle Man, but I am a friend of the
Angels.  My comrades and I are on a journey that will aid the Turtle Men as
much as my own people."
     The Ifrit's response was unexpected, he laughed heartily, a sound
which was not at all friendly-sounding, but the mirth of the victor in a
struggle at the writhing of his adversary.  "If the Angels had known of
you, they would have told us." he said when he had finished laughing, which
took quite a while.  Pavel had given up all hope by then.  But he rallied
at this response.
     "They knew we were coming this way, but they didn't know we were
coming exactly here.  I'm sure if you'll check with them...."
     "Don't mind if I do." the Ifrit interrrupted and raised his head.
"Hey, Vorin, do you recognize this one?"
     "Never saw him before." came the answer from above and behind Pavel.
     Pavel threw his head back and could just make out the Angels there,
two of them, bearing someone in their hands as he was being borne, the
three figures at the very edge of his vision and refusing to take shape or
color.
     "Jassem?" he called out.  "Jassem, is that you?"
     "It's me!" Jethro called out.  "Jassem gave out a call and was
suddenly gone, I don't know where he is!"
     "Jethro?  Jethro, they got you, too?"
     "Yeah, but Aram got his sukhusan under a ledge.  I don't think they
could get to him." Jethro said.
     "If Jassem is the other one we took, then the Djinni have him." the
Ifrit said.  "We saw there were four of you, and decided to each select one
of you, and let the other one go."
     Pavel looked about and saw what might be other forms far off to his
right.  He could not turn his head far enough in this position to see
anything more than that there was something in the skies there, and he
cursed his inept neck, unable to show him what he needed to see!
     "Where are you taking me?" Pavel asked, for the Angels were ferrying
Jethro off in another direction, and even the Ifrit had changed their
course.
     "Taking you to where we keep the rest of you." the Ifrit said.  "We
need you."
     "Need me for what?" Pavel demanded.
     "You'll see." the Ifrit said.  And he laughed again.  It was such a
hard sound, Pavel didn't like it at all.
     "Shall we test this one out before we take him back to our people,
Isham?" The Ifrit asked his companion.
     "Of course, Ashmid." the other Ifrit said.
     "Test me out?" Pavel asked, only now thinking of himself and his
position.  He was clutched by two brutish figures and suspended high in the
air!
     They swooped down with him into the valley below and Pavel feared as
the mist, strong and palpable as the Khamsin, enveloped him.  They could
hit something doing this!  "Ahhh!" he shouted.
     Through and through the mist they flew, and then they rose into the
air.
     "Did you get a good gulp of that, little man?" Ashmid asked him.
     "Gulp?" Pavel gasped out, looking at the Ifrit again.  How much he
resembled some horrible ancient creature; Grendel of the legend must have
been much like this man.  That is what he looked like, some primitive,
slavering, bestial man and he had Pavel in his clutches.  A big, rough,
hairy brute of a man....
     "Oh, no!" he sighed as he realized the intent of that long plunge
through the mist.  "Please, no!"  His cock was as hard as a spear jutting
out in front of him and he felt one of their fingers caressing his balls,
probing them and riding out to touch the base of his cock.
     "We have quite a flight left, still, to my people's domain." Ashmid
said.  "Shall we not enjoy the travel much as you were enjoying it with
your guide?"
     "Aram is more than my guide." Pavel said.  That finger, it was
wrapping around his cock, completely around...around more than once!  "What
is that?" he said, and looked down as well as he could.  Another finger was
snaking around his ass, and it felt more like a snake now, stroking his
body rather than clinging to him, but definitely not the stiff joints of
fingers.  Now he had a chance to realize, he knew all four of the two
Ifriti hands were still holding onto him.
     He saw it wrapping around his cock, a long cylinder like a snake's
body, but instead of the diamond-shaped head, he saw...a cockhead!  The
Ifriti had prehensile cocks!
     And Isham's cock was now probing at his ass!  "Oh, no!" he gasped as
the cock seemed to make itself more slender and slid in less like a prick
than a finger, only to fatten up again when it was inside of him.  "Ah,
hah!" he grunted at the odd feel of this adjustable prong.
     And Ashmid's cock was now totally wrapped around Pavel's dick, and
Ashmid gave another laugh as his cock began to work Pavel's, as if a coiled
spring were compressing and relaxing again.
     Such an incredible feeling, this coil of cock around his own, warmer
than fingers, able to grip him equally on all places at once, surging and
squeezing his cock back and forth, back and forth!
     "Gah!" Pavel's lips burst forth.  He couldn't help it, too much mist!
Too much!  He had been dipped in the mist for this purpose, to drive him
insane with desire, unable to resist these two!  His body welcomed the
prehensible intruder into his butt, his cock relished the feel of Ashmid's
agile, lithe prong milking him.  His only desire now was to be able to
touch his two lovers!
     But he was dangling in mid-air, his arms totally trapped and his hands
not in contact with any part of their bodies.  He had no way to show his
appreciation for their ministrations on him, no way at all.
     He could only look longingly into Ashmid's face, see the hard, rough,
brutal features now softened with lust.  "Does this...please you too?" he
asked the Ifrit.
     "Yes, little man." Ashmid said.  "I pleasure myself along with you
when I do this."
     "I'm...I'm glad." Pavel admitted and gave himself to his pleasures.
Their arms didn't seem so harsh against his any more.  He looked over at
Isham and smiled, and Isham chuckled softly.  His face was thinner than
Ashmid's, there was that about Isham that reminded him of Aram.  And Ashmid
looked much like Rashid, who had been the first Arab leader to greet Pavel
on his trip to the plains....
     Ashmid's cock was pumping hard at Pavel's cock now, driving Pavel
wild, sending surges of pleasure through his body, Isham's cock was now a
pile-driver of amazing girth inside of Pavel; he had been stretched out
little by little as Isham continued to keep Pavel's accommodating ass tight
on his by expanding his cock in response, it felt less like a cock in his
ass now and more like an...an arm!  His ass cheeks were being pressed apart
as he was fucked by Isham, his body loved it, loved it!
     How long were these Ifriti cocks?  Pavel saw Ashmid's cock, which
continued to pump him, also stretch outwards until the enraged, reddened
cockhead was now well out into the air, over a foot away from Pavel's own
cock!  It turned and reached up toward's Pavel and Pavel realized, bent his
head over.  As the cock, getting undeniably slender in its efforts, made it
up to him, Pavel took the cockhead into his mouth and tasted the
precome-smeared organ.  There was the flavor not of salty ocean water,
there was the taste of a bright, new copper penny he had played with as a
child, putting it into his mouth and he still remembered that metallic,
bitter taste.  It was like that, Ashmid's precome.
     He licked it off anyway, Ashmid's cock was boiling hot and Ashmid's
pulsations on Pavel's prick were driving him mad.  Anything to keep this
wonderful feeling going, of being fucked by a fat cock, of being so
expertly milked, he'd lick this cockhead and savor the odd taste!  His own
cock gurgled and he felt his body tense up.  "Mm!  Mmh!" he warned of his
orgasm.
     But they needed no warning, Isham was an insane pole of fury in his
ass, and Pavel felt him move into an incredible fast speed and then the
surge of jism into his ass, as Isham bellowed his pleasure full-throated,
"Hah, AHHHH-AH-AH-AH-HAH-HAH-HAH!!!!"
     "Mmh, muh, muh, MUKKKHHH!" Ashmid hissed between his razor-sharp but
clenched teeth, he sent his cock's spring-action into overdrive as he
sprayed his copper-penny wads into Pavel's mouth, Pavel drinking it down as
well as he could, unable to breathe as his own climax assailed his senses.
     His cock was compressed tightly in Ashmid's ejaculation-tautened
cock-grip, Pavel felt his seed catch and cling as it surged out of his pud,
only to explode in high arcs out of his body at last, at last!
     Ashmid's cockhead left his mouth and Pavel gulped in air, then
bellowed his joy at the top of his lungs, high in the air, giddy with the
height, with the thinner, colder air, dizzy with the sensations of flight,
every nerve in his body quavered at this moment, and he sprayed high, long
and hard, sending his seed out to fly ahead of him through the air!
     Done, he felt Isham's cock still in his anus, slowly decreasing in
size, lowering his ass' interior back to its previous circumference in
stages.  Ashmid's cock dropped in length instead, it felt like a snake was
crawling down Pavel's cock and over his balls, traveling back to its dark
nest.
     But Ashmid's cock stopped when the head was again even with Pavel's.
Pavel felt it stop, felt Isham's prong drop out of his ass like a massive
sticky lump, and looked at Ashmid in wonder.
     "Not going to let you go just yet." murmured Ashmid.  "We have a ways
to travel yet, and it is heavy with mist.
     Pavel knew he would soon be again in the clutches of passion.  Now,
while he could, he tried to think of something to do, some way to escape,
to rejoin his now-scattered companions.
     Ashmid's cock stroked his own lazily, as if it was going to be there
for a long time and was settling in at its new home, a caduceus of lust.
     What to do about his captivity?  He couldn't think of a single thing!