Aldea, Narquel 16, 00514
Gods, but I’m in a strange mood today. I’ve got an invitation, in paper, from the Kowling twins to be their date tonight, and yet here I am, stepping on this SDisk to go to the Arc to find- Borodir.
I came out in the Arc main hallway and briskly walked to the large open food square, which at this time of day was a bustling hub of activity, full of every imaginable species, all milling about and talking and laughing in this completely glass-enclosed, sunlit room. The entire room is done in bright white paint and hanging plants, and the entire effect is glaringly brilliant. I shielded my eyes with my hand and began looking for him.
Back, a while back, when I’d been seriously interested in SM as a lifestyle, Borodir had been my trainer. He had been the first man to tie me down, to take a whip to me. And I admit, I had loved every minute of it. I needed a man to be a master, too; I don’t understand it, but that was one of the main reasons for my final ‘break,’ the realization that I can’t really do this anymore. I’m more het than even I like to think, and SM is attractive as an overwhelming thing that possesses me and takes me over, but in the long run I can’t do it forever. If I talk to Borodir or Lynn, they’ll tell me that there are bottoms they’ve had for over a century now, but I only lasted four years. Ah, well.
There was one thing Borodir had wanted to try, and as his slave I still had the right, in the end, to refuse him, but in my heart I had wanted it, and for some reason tonight I did want it. I wanted it badly.
What am I doing here? The question brought a smile to my lips; the last time I’d gone in search of a master I’d unwittingly ended up in Aaden’s chains and was quite pleasantly raped by him and his cohorts. But not Borodir. I wanted Borodir, and I wanted him tonight.
And he was here. I finally found him, in his pressed starch uniform. He looked relaxed and comfortable, the muscular mass of his body lying comfortably in one of the larger reclining chairs, a murky orange drink in hand, complete with little paper parasol.
I walked over to him and said “Good afternoon, sir.”
He smiled and looked up at me. “Good afternoon, Shardik.” Borodir’s voice always reminds me of old Tarzan movies, the ones with the African kings and the melodious way they used to speak, a constant sing-song-like hum under every word as he uses. Maybe it’s because he’s black. I don’t know. All I know is, I find it very sexy. “And what brings you to the Arc on such a beautiful day?”
“I came looking for you.”
“And why would you be doing that?”
“Remember what we used to talk about?”
“Which ‘what’ was that, Shardik?”
I hate when he leads me. “The one thing you wanted to do. The one I wouldn’t let you. You remember, Borodir.”
“No I do not, Shardik. This one thing, what was it called?”
I sighed, resigned to my old master. “I want you to put both of your hands inside me, Borodir. Fist me, Sir.”
“Ah, now I do remember. Tell me, are you interested in this tonight?”
“Before the madness passes, yes.”
“Before the madness leaves you, then. Tonight. Shall I invite our old friend? The one with bushy tail.”
Aaden. I smiled. “Yah, that would be nice.”
He smiled back, linked his fingers and stretched, popping a few knuckles as he did so; it emphasized just what I had asked for. “Then I will see you later today.” He put his hand into his vest pocket, then handed me an unlabeled address chip. “Dress accordingly. Shall we dine?”
I agreed, and we rose to visit the cafeteria line. The food was not bad at all, considering how many people ate here.
As instructed, I dressed “appropriately”; leather chaps, very old bluejeans, flannel shirt, leather vest and cap, no jacket, engineer’s boots. I walked confidently to the SDisk and summoned the pentacle; I instructed the port to send me to the preset coordinates on the chip. I was more than a little surprised when those coordinates didn’t resolve into “The Underground.”
I stepped out into.. a barn? There was the smell of fresh hay everywhere, and from the rafters hung a very ornate sling done in red leather. Sunlight streamed in from the open windows, and I heard birds fluttering about in the rafters. I was alone. I was about to turn around and go looking when a hand grabbed my neck from behind. “On your knees, boy,” I heard.
I obeyed, falling to my knees and casting my eyes down. I recognized the voice as Aaden’s. “Crawl,” he said. I began to crawl on my knees in the direction he led, toward where the sling was set. Borodir stepped into view, looking very powerful in his flannel shirt, leather vest and jeans. Borodir and I agreed on a lot of things, and costume was one of them- we didn’t really believe in it. “In,” Aaden commanded. Despite his apparent position of authority, tonight Aaden was Borodir’s second, but I obeyed, jumping up and getting into the sling, on my back this time. Aaden took my right leg and secured it high on the sling; then he did the left. My hands were left free; I lay them by my sides on the sling platform. I stared up at the rafters, where some kind soul had installed a mylar mirror, so that I could see very clearly what was going on.
Borodir spoke, “Boy.” I snapped to attention, looking down the length of my body to where he stood. “Are you ready?”
I settled back onto the sling. “Yes, sir.”
“Aaden… Open him up for me.”
I glanced over at Aaden, and heard him say, “With pleasure, sir.” I saw him in the mirror walk over between my legs, and he said “You have no idea how much I enjoy this, Shardik.” With his claws at the crotch of my jeans he tore a small hole. He grabbed at the hole with both paws and tore my pants apart, reverting to the pair of scissors he had with him only when he reached the waistband. His fingers gently caressed my asshole with some warm lubricant, and I could see him in the mirror stroking himself to full hardness with his other paw.
He turned his attention from his cock to my butt, and pressed the one against the other. I could feel the pressure, and I was ready for him this time. I let him in, feeling my asshole clamp down on his cock as it slid into me. But he is so long, as he pressed his hips against my ass he pressed painfully far, rearranging my insides, but I liked him there. I looked up into his furred face, the single white stripe beginning at the bridge of his muzzle and progressing all the way over his head and, although I couldn’t see it, down his back and then up his tail. He grabbed ahold of the chains and used them to stroke me back and forth, impaling me upon his pole. I lay there, being his toy, taking his abuses, knowing full well that I’d asked for this this time, and enjoying every second, every stroke, every deep and painful jab.
He slowed down, and I could see that intense look on his face, that sight of pain and readiness, and he raised his face to the rafters and shouted as his cock throbbed and shot into my guts.
But it was hardly over. He slid out of me, and Borodir took his place, sliding his cock into me. But it wasn’t his cock I was interested in tonight; in that regard, Aaden was actually larger than Borodir. But I enjoyed him, his thick uncut dick, as it sawed into my asshole, and I closed my eyes with pleasure when he came.
But it was his hands, his huge hands, that I was interested in tonight. I’d never done this before, especially not with someone with hands that large.
He smiled, his white teeth shocking in his black face. And Borodir isn’t brown, or dark brown. This man is black. Space black. He ran his well-greased right hand over my buttocks and without much pause slid two fingers into me. Then a third. Aaden had moved around to my head, and he kneeled by my side and said “Would you like some ‘nite?,’ Ken?”
I shook my head. “No. No drugs. I want this… just like this.” In the mirror I saw Aaden shoot a glance at Borodir, and Borodir just nodded back. Borodir knew my mind on that- If you need drugs for where you’re at, you’re in the wrong place.
He slid a fourth finger into me, widening my asshole further. I was breathing hard, and my mind was spinning from hyperventilation. My heart was pounding, and occasionally I could feel little ‘ripping’ sensations from my butt as the flesh gave way in places, as it has a tendency to do. It hurt, but it didn’t hurt, because I wanted it so badly.
He began to slide his hand out, in, out, in, easing it further with every push. Borodir curled his thumb against his palm and began to push harder, trying to get deeper, and I closed my eyes as I felt him slide his hand further and further, until he reached that point where it had to go in, and he pushed, and his hand slid into my asshole up to the wrist. I felt my anus clamp down with pleasure and relief around the smaller diameter of his wrist, even though I knew he’d eventually have to take it out again. I lay there, on the end of his arm, and wondered what next, while I felt the sensations he gave me course through my body with an obscene heat. I felt his fingers move inside me, an alien intelligence inside my guts, and he curled them into a fist, and that drove me wild, rattling the chains and groaning. In the mirror I could see the black trunk of his forearm end at my white butt suspended over the red, wooden floor. I leaned my head back a little further to see Aaden standing over me, his cock dangling just behind and above my head.
Borodir pumped me with his hand, and I just closed my eyes and luxuriated in the pleasure and submission. And then, without much warning, he slid out of me. “Shardik,” he said, “I have a small surprise for you.” He snapped his fingers.
I lay there, my asshole spread wide open, wondering what could be next. The answer was quick in forthcoming. I heard a familiar “clop, clop” of hooves on wood.
“Hello, Ken,” I heard. I looked up to see Ramsey Cougal, an old Centaur friend who’d I’d been a rather mean tease to one day. “When I heard about this little get-together, I couldn’t resist.”
He approached me, and then reared up, his forehooves coming between the chains and then down around my sides; I heard the sound of chains rattling. Ramsey is a big Centaur, and with him over me my head was resting up between the leather sling and his foreshoulders. I felt a hand, Borodir’s I assume, at my ass, and I guess he was aiming. I leaned my head back and waited. Centaur spines are very supple, and Ramsey had bent over to watch me. I smiled. He winked, and then strained forward. His horse’s cock jammed into me, filling me almost as much as Borodir’s arm, but not quite.
I lay there, impaled, listening to the chains rattle again as that enormous living penis rocked back and forth inside me, feeling this massive equine weight shifting and pounding above me. I wrapped my arms as far as I could around his lower breastcage and held on. Ramsey’s penis impaled me farther even than Aaden’s, and the cramping grew fierce and insistent, but I loved it.
Ramsey came, screaming, his entire body shaking above me, and I feared him going weak in the knees and collapsing on top of me. But he had control, and slowly backed off, his softening cock falling out of me. I groaned, empty again.
I could see Ramsey’s face, and he wiped the sweat from his brow and smiled, saying “That was tight, Borodir. Thank you.”
Borodir smiled, and took his place at my ass again. Without lowering the chains or much else ado, he began sliding his hand back into me, curling it into a fist as soon as he did so. I rattled the chains with my writhing, and he said, “Calm down, boy. I’ve got that one last gift for you.”
Then I felt it down at my ass; Borodir was slipping another finger into my butt along his wrist. Carefully he worked it in, and I felt a soft pain at that one spot that was being stretched a little further than then rest. I closed my eyes again and tried to relax, my mind spinning. Two fingers replaced the one. I was really going off now.
“Aaden,” I whispered, glancing back at the Mephit standing next to my head, “I need something.”
“What?” he whispered back.
“Something to… to distract me.”
“Kiss me.” He shot another perplexed look at Borodir. Borodir merely nodded back. That’s what I like about Borodir; he’s so Zen, everything’s cool with him. I realized I was taking a bit of risk with Aaden, though; He and I had the sort of relationship where you didn’t kiss your partner before you fucked him. I didn’t know if he was a good kisser, or even if he liked kissing.
Borodir slid a third finger in, and now I was sure he was expanding my asshole even beyond the width of his hand. It hurt, and my head spun, as Aaden bent down to kiss me. His muzzle touched my lips, and I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulders. I needed him.
He responded, at first awkwardly, but he warmed to it, our tongues meeting and responding. His paw stroked along my chest, his claws lightly scratching. Borodir added his pinky and thumb. Someone else, Ramsey, I guess (who else was there?), squirted something onto my crotch so that it ran down my ass; lubricant.
The kiss became the center of my universe, despite the activity going on at my ass. The kiss is the most sensuous activity there is; it involves all the senses. I could feel Borodir’s hands sliding back and forth, against the flesh of my asshole, against each other. He uncurled the fist he had inside of me and I could tell when the fingers of his left hand were sliding into the palm of his right.
Aaden’s claws became a little sharper, scratching and catching my nipples. I groaned as the painful sensations at my butt and nipples combined into the passion I was feeling for him. He never broke concentration on the kiss to think about the scratches, and his scratches seemed to be perfect.
Borodir’s hands met; I hadn’t even noticed when he’d gotten the left hand completely into me. I felt him intertwine the fingers into one big fist inside me, and he began to pump me with it. It was incredible; I was completely lost. I just kissed Aaden, and I felt him lean a little further over me. His paw reached down to where Borodir was fucking me with his arms, the pads of his paw trailing over my abused asshole and Borodir’s arms, and then over my balls, the claws coming out a little further, and then he took my cock into his hand.
It was all over. All I needed was a touch and I exploded, screaming; I managed to close off my mouth so that I didn’t scream into Aaden’s. My come shot over my body and Aaden’s arm, hitting as far as my throat. Borodir was swift, removing one hand before the first spasms had subsided and gently removing the other after I’d taken a few deep breaths. I felt it leave me, and I felt like I was missing something that belonged to me. But it wasn’t so bad. I breathed heavily, just lying there, letting it all subside. Vaguely I felt Aaden undoing the leg restraints. My legs hit the floor with an audible thump.
“Hey,” Aaden said. “You okay, Ken?”
“I… I don’t know. I think so.” I also felt like someone could park a good sized atmospheric shuttle in my asshole and have room left.
Aaden extended his hand to help me up. I accepted it gratefully; when I was standing vertically, I was amazed that my insides didn’t fall out through the cargolock I now had for an anus. I flexed the muscles down there and gratefully accepted the fact that at least some of them still worked. The effort made me shudder violently, though.
He helped me walk to the SDisk and we ‘ported to The Underground. When I reached the bar, now was the time to order something intoxicating. Aaden grabbed a beer. Borodir joined us a few minutes later, and he said “You weren’t bad out there, Shardik.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
“It’s you I should thank,” Borodir replied smiling. “So, Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, gratefully.