Date: Sun, 28 Feb 2016 16:54:53 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Secrets of the Mithrin, and of Deks

               SECRETS OF THE MITHRIN, AND OF DEKS
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     Bal opened one weary eye to look over at a familiar face. Sinril, of
course. The hot afternoon of the local day was a great time to take a long
nap, the sun would go behind the mountains in a few hours and then he could
stir about and work a few hours, if gathering firewood and cooking his
supper would be considered work. He'd hunted a few days before and there
was still meat enough for today. Tomorrow, he must hunt again. So he'd been
napping, or about to, when Sinril entered. "How did it go?"
     "Gathered the last of the provisions, all that didn't spoil or
burn. Nothing left at my ship now but metal and ruin." Sinril told him as
he entered the small cavern. A burrow, actually, a local creature had
carved its nest from solid rock and Bal had dispossessed the creature
(killed and eaten it) and moved in, but it made a rather comfortable abode
for even his large frame, if cramped for two with the addition of
Sinril. Sinril sat down wearily beside Bal's sleeping mat. "I worked some
more on my radio. Without new parts, it's never going to work again."
     "So don't sweat it. Radio's only good for intrasystem communications
anyway." Bal commiserated with him. "You know the rules about shipwrecks;
they'll search every planet very carefully when the war is over. Until
then, stay alive and stay optimistic. They'll find us, one day. They
promised us that."
     "Yes, I know." Sinril didn't sound any better. Hell, Bal remembered
that, he'd been marooned on this planet four months longer than Sinril had
been, he'd watched the sky with increasing hopefulness as he saw the ship
entering the atmosphere, coming his way. Rescue? Could it be? Then seeing
how the ship was coming in too fast, too sharp an angle, it wasn't going to
circle and search, it was another ship like his had been, damaged and
coming in for a crash landing. He'd run to where it was coming down, and
made it there some hours later, a small one-man ship, it was mostly intact,
if banged all to hell. Then Sinril had stepped out of the ship and Bal
grimaced. A Mithrin. Hell, it couldn't have been another Dek, could it, it
had to be a Mithrin. And his own hopes of rescue had been dashed
again. Yes, he knew how Sinril felt very well, indeed.
     A lot of history had happened between this time and the 21st
Century. Mankind had been through a lot and some of that history showed in
these two men, Bal the Dek and Sinril the Mithrin. Both were human, but
both had as well in their genesis the slavery of the Slith who had
controlled several worlds of Mankind for several centuries.
     To understand these two offshoots of Man, imagine if a Saint Bernard
were standing next to a Chihuahua and you'd never seen nor heard of either
breed; in neither of those two dogs would you recognize more than a passing
resemblance to their common wolf ancestor. It was much this way with Bal
and Sinril, and for the same reason...centuries before, their ancestors had
been captured by the Slith and turned into slaves for their alien
masters. Generation upon generation of their ancestors had been selected,
bred and adjusted for their owners' pleasure.
     Bal was a Dek, Men which the Slith had bred to work in the mines and
on the farms, and all others form of hard manual labor, and so he was the
"Saint Bernard" end of the human spectrum. He stood nearly nine feet tall
and his arms, legs and chest were proportionately massive with muscles far
larger than any normal human could have gained despite the strictest
training regimen. His biceps weren't grapefruit sized, they were melon
sized. His chest was bigger around as a bull gorilla's, his upper legs were
large as beer kegs, and on top of all this was a thick mat of hair that
fell just short of being a full fur coat. For this reason, he was now
wearing only a tattered bit of torn coveralls; they covered his crotch down
to a third way to his knees, and a thick bundle of threads held the
waistband at one end and one shoulder at the other. Plenty of clothing for
this hot world and since he'd arrived on this world with nothing but an
escape pod, was all the clothing he owned.
     Sinril, the Mithrin, came from humans who were selected (and then bred
into small docility) for household tasks, such as cleaning, cooking,
washing and caring for the Slith. Barely three and a half-feet tall, his
arms were not only not muscled, they lacked any definition at all save when
he strained at some task, when his bicep showed itself, a slim reed that
struggled to do its duty. His proportions were not that of a child (though
he was of the same height), he brought to mind more the "elves" of Earth
legend in his shape and form. These two had been surviving together for two
weeks and formed a rather tenuous friendship hindered by something Bal
couldn't quite put his finger on...like Sinril had a secret he didn't want
to share. No matter to Bal if the man had secrets, hell, marooned on a
strange world, secrets didn't matter, but it did put a wall between the two
of them.
     But that wall suddenly loomed high over Bal with Sinril's next
words. "I'm going to be moving out of this camp for the next three days. I
won't be very far away, but you'll need to keep well away from me, okay?"
     Bal looked over, puzzled, at Sinril's small, sobered face. "You're
moving out? Man, you've seen this world. Hell of a rough place. Plenty of
dangerous beasts out there." Not dangerous for Bal's brawny frame, but for
little Sinril...creatures that would run from Bal would stalk Sinril!
     "I know that, but I must go." Sinril returned. "I must do this once
every thirty-two days, be away from you for three days, then I can return
for twenty-nine more." Sinril had been marking a careful calendar on one of
the cavern's walls, now Bal knew why.
     "Well...there's another of these burrows southwards on this same cliff
face about a hundred yards. Would that work?" Another creature killed both
to feed Bal's appetite and to prevent it from coming after Bal.
     Sinril shook his head. "Not far enough. I would still smell you."
     "Nothing else will be safe." Bal warned. Then he stopped. "Smell me?"
     "I must be further away." Sinril avoided the question.
     "Further away, nothing is safe."
     "Nonetheless, I must go."
     Bal sighed. "All right. But at least try the other burrow. See if you
do smell me."
     "It is dangerous."
     "More dangerous at night. There's a reason I took over this cave." Bal
pointed to a nasty scar along the side of his ribs. "First night I was
here, I got this. Thing ripped my escape pod to pieces to get to me. I
searched for a cave the next day, lucky enough to find this. And you were
lucky I found you before nightfall when you got here. The things on this
planet can rip apart steel metal as easy as they rip up bare rock."
     Sinril licked his lips. "It is dangerous for you if I stay."
     Bal sighed. "So tell me why and I'll judge which is worse."
     "Because I am about to come into heat."
     "Heat?"
     "I must tell you about the Mithrin. The Slith did not only breed us
for their households, they bred us for their beds. They mate every
thirty-two days, or must if they are not to go on a rampage."
     "So what did they do to you?" Bal asked. The Slith had done things to
the Deks, too, things he hadn't shared with Sinril. But nothing they'd done
to Bal would be a threat to Sinril!
     "Made us capable of serving their needs if a female Slith were not
available."
     Bal had to wrap his brains about this new bit of information. "You
mean the Slith would just jump on you and fuck your ass?"
     "More than a brief ravishment." Sinril was flushing bright red from
his forehead to the neck of his jumpsuit, and perhaps over all his
body. "Once a Slith takes his mate, he remains mated to them for the entire
three days of his mating period. All male and female Mithrin can accept
this mating. In fact..." And Sinril stopped.
     "Go ahead." Bal said. "I haven't heard anything threatening to me,
yet."
     "In fact, all male and female Mithrin have no choice but to mate. Or
should I say, seek out a partner to be the passive for."
     "So if you stay here with me, you..."
     "I will attempt to ravish you." Sinril said. "So you see, I must
leave. Otherwise, we will bound together for three full days while I mate
with you, force you to please me, over and over again, without a break,
without...without separating from you. I will have no control over it. None
at all."
     "Well." Bal considered this novel dilemma. Sex with another male
wasn't that alien to him, but three full days of it would be a bit
much. For one thing, they'd run low on food in that length of time. And
what if he had to fight something? "Let's try the other cavern, then. Maybe
it's far enough away to let you sleep it off. Will you need provisions?"
     "No, I...I have the items I need." Sinril said. He rose. "I will move
myself there now, then. Please do not come southward any further than this
cavern until I return."
     Alone again, Bal sighed. Poor Sinril. He mused how in the world a
group of Mithrin would handle such periodic needs. All needing to be the
passives! They must be on different timetables for that, he supposed, or
did they form gigantic circles of males impaling each other. But in that
case, what happened to the females? And he fell asleep. Soon he must be
active again, he'd maybe try to do some hunting before nightfall, bag a few
small critters and leave some of them where Sinril could find them....
     He settled for spearing some of the fish (they didn't resemble fish
much, though they tasted much like the fish on Dekhara) and hanging them up
to dry over the fire he kept burning before his cavern door at nightfall,
these fish would stretch his food for another four days even with Sinril's
return, the little Mithrin didn't eat very much. In fact, he'd eaten almost
nothing the last few days.
     That took him to true sundown, the long twilight of the mountain
shadows turning to true night. He would sleep the first part of the night,
then the second part of the thirty-seven hour day he would spend in tasks
such as making new arrowheads and such, then could hunt again when the
rising sun would drive the most dangerous predators below-ground. The full
sleep plus nap worked well enough to rest his body, but played a certain
hob with his diurnal rhythm. By the time for his full sleep, he was
completely wiped out, even after all these months...he slept.
     He awoke in full alarm! Someone or something had crawled onto the
ledge outside of his cavern! The big predators could not scale these cliffs
but smaller ones could! He grasped his spear and levered it. The fire was
dimmed but the second moon was up, as large as Earth's Moon, and in full
phase in the direction of sunrise, it gave his cavern a fairish light. He
could see the creature as it sidestepped his fire (no native creature would
do that, they all avoided fire like, well, like fire) and stood not far
away. "Ba-a-a-a-al" it guttered at him hoarsely.
     "Sinrin!" Bal said, for it was he, though dirty and naked and
scratched from either brambles or native nightlife that still bled tiny
globs of blood from some of the end-points. "You...you smelled me!"
     "Ba-a-a-a-a-a-al, ye-e-e-e-e-sssss!" Sinrin hissed. "I will have you!
I must have you!"
     "And if I refuse?" Bal asked.
     "I will di-i-i-i-i-i-ie!"
     "Die?"
     "I have sme-e-e-e-e-e-lled you, now I must have you, or die!" Sinrin
crouched and then sprang at Bal. The little Mithrin was showing strength
three times his normal ability, though still not nearly enough to injure
Bal in any significant way. But he didn't intend to rip at Bal, only to
yank at the strap that held Bal's remnant of his clothing to his body and
with it off his shoulder, the entire thing sagged down. If Sinrin ripped it
any more, there wouldn't be enough to salvage, the beast on his first night
on this planet had nearly done it in as it was.
     So Bal let Sinrin lower the strap and his own hand helped the little
Mithrin slide it down his barrel-like hips and down to his knees. With
that, he was nude (the jockstrap he had converted into a slingshot until
the elastic had snapped on its third use) and Sinrin slavered as he reached
for Bal's dong and lifted it from its nest of fur. He then dove on it like
he intended to swallow it whole.
     Bal gasped! He wasn't fully hard yet, but to the little Mithrin it
must be four times the size of anything he'd ever handled before. But
Sinril not only took him entirely, the entire length of it slid into his
mouth and well down his throat and Sinril's nose dug into Bal's crotch fur
and Bal's balls slapped Sinril's chin! "Ohhh, oh, Goddess Elissa!" Bal
moaned as his manhood was enfolded in hot male saliva. "I haven't had
someone take all of me since that shore leave on Mennek two years ago!"
     Sinril began to bob back and forth on Bal's cock without ever
releasing more than half of his length, though as he fattened up, the cock
was over fourteen inches long and so plump that it strained Sinril's mouth
to its tiny limit.
     Sinril kept up his avid worship of Bal's dong even as Bal moaned and
wondered what it would do to Sinril if he were to come just like this, be
unable to perform as the tiny Mithrin tried to shove this huge pole up his
ass? Would he die? Or simply wait until Bal could again achieve an
erection. Surely the Mithrin didn't keep a three-day erection going...did
they? The Slith had worked their mischief on the Deks as well, Bal wondered
what Sinrin would think of his own idiosyncrasies when they came to
bear. That whore on Mennek had been surprised at it, that was certain, she
should have done her research before accepting Bal as a client, Goddess
knows that the other whores had laughed at her predicament.
     Sinril nearly vomited up Bal's prong at last, and it came out all
heavy and greasy with his saliva and as Bal regarded the mischief worked
upon his organ (it was looking a sort of gray from all the mouth-spit) when
Sinril jumped up and his hands clutched at Bal's shoulders and his legs
wrapped about Bal's waist. Sinril manuevered his buttocks so that the glans
kissed Sinril's anus and Sinril growled a feral sound and gave a hard shove
and Bal gasped as his prick was crammed up the small ass. He could feel
Sinril's bowels warping themselves around it as it slid up inside, and the
tightness of the intestines was fitting him like a too-tight sleeve,
squeezing him so tight that it was like it'd never let him go!
     Sinril didn't let up, he bounced up and down, shoving Bal's cock into
him deeper and deeper until his buttocks were resting on Bal's testicles,
and Sinril gave a howl and squirted a heavy load all over Bal's chest and
stomach. The hot spray flew over Bal and Sinril's bowels rippled and that
milked at Bal's cock in a way that drove Bal utterly mad with desire. No
more reason to hold back now, was there, not with Sinril's come still
spurting like an endless geyser over his chest fur, landing in hot clumps
on him. "Ahh-ahh-ahhh-ruh-rrrrruuuuhhhhh!" He groaned and his own explosion
drove upwards into Sinril's buttocks. Far too tightly packed to drip out,
the entire load slipped back and forth with Bal's cock as Sinril continued
to bounce up and down on Bal's dick and Bal roared with a sound that shook
the alien night. When at last he was silent, the many sounds of the forest
were still, and the only noise was that of a mild wind and the crackling of
the hot coals as the fish's oils dripped down onto them.
     Sinril looked into his eyes with a look of a slow return to
reason. "Bal! Oh, Bal, I am so sorry, I have taken you for a mate, we are
bound thus for three days now. I never meant to do this, but once a Mithrin
has smelled another, he loses much of his intelligence, for his passion
overcomes him. I shall pull myself away from you while I still can, I will
not need to mate with you again for another hour or two."
     Sinril shifted and tried to disengage himself, and as he struggled,
Bal gave him a sympathetic smile. "I fear that, as I have had to deal with
the secret sex life of the Mithrin, you must now deal with the secret sex
life of the Deks."
     "I...I cannot free myself." Sinril struggled a bit harder.
     "Your struggles are in vain." Bal told him. My cock mimics that of
several other species, in that an inner ring swells up and will not release
you for several hours."
     "Hours? But by that time...."
     "By then, you'll be mating with me again, and extending the servitude
I must inflict upon you. I fear we are bound together for the next three
days. I am fortunate that I have sufficient food for the two of us for that
long a time."
     "I am so sorry I did not flee further from you."
     "Hey, my fear was that you wouldn't be able to handle me at all. I
have stretched you rather far, I fear."
     "You are no larger than the Slith who used to mount us whenever they
chose." Sinril informed him. "They would impale us and their mating would
last for several hours, without any pauses at all."
     "I'm very glad to hear that." Bal told him. "The rest of it is that we
mate with only brief pauses as long as our ring holds you in place." He
gave Sinril's ass a soft jab and his cock stiffened again as a result. "In
fact, I'm ready to go again right now if you are willing."
     Sinril felt the cock hardening and he gasped out, "When the
Slith...mate with us...our bodies always rise...to their needs." And he
began to bounce again on Bal's cock.
     "Thanks." Bal told him. "But this one is on me." He lowered Sinril
onto his sleeping mat, and when the small Mithrin was down, he began to
hump hard and fast at the tender, small ass now attached to his dong.
     After a half dozen or so matings and climaxes, Bal thought with the
last dregs of his brain, he could keep himself in check long enough to lift
both of them and walk about, with Sinril clinging to him like a monkey
child to its mother's chest, enough to prepare food and such. They could
live thus the next three days, though his cock may well be sore as hell
from the marathon.
     The biggest problem of any castaway was to find enough reason to stay
alive until rescue could come. With Sinril riding on his dong three days
out of each month, living never looked better to him!

                             THE END
               Comments, complaints or suggestions?
             E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM