Dorian's Story

Dorian’s Story - 1

Dorian's Story

By Stephanie Vaughan

Rain, cold as a witch's soul, trickled inside Dorian's tunic. The shaggy hide of his rams' wool cloak had protected him for the first few days, but it had been raining continuously for nigh on a se'ennight now. With no sunshine and only the help of a weak campfire to dry it, the garment that had seen him through most of the second half of his military career gave up the fight. Dorian glanced down with undisguised contempt, calculating to the instant it had not just ceased protecting him, but had gone over to the other side. It now lay close against his flesh, cool and clammy, as soggy and wrinkled as the forest floor beneath his destrier's sturdy hooves and twice as aromatic. Once upon a time he'd relished the campaigner's life. Young and brash, the world before him, fortune and glory had beckoned to him from just beyond each curve of the road. The years were passing, no question. Fortune and glory be damned. Now he wanted only to go home -- to see the last of this gods forsaken land of night eternal and rain that never ceased. But the royal seer had plunged his hands into the sheep's entrails and avowed without doubt that the king's enemies had established an encampment along the country's northern border. It was Dorian's task to survey the area, together with his men, to find and root out the raiding party. They'd been at it for near a fortnight now Dorian’s Story - 2

and the most damning evidence they'd found was a series of illegal snares, set to catch any of the area's abundant rabbits. "Well, my captain. Where next to search?" Dorian glanced up from his examination of the nearby trees and shrubs where he looked for any sign of interlopers, to find his second-in-command, the redoubtable Haakon. Nearly as tall as Dorian and half again as wide, his old friend looked as fed up as Dorian felt. Dorian didn't blame the man. "Many more nights like the past few and it'll be your arse I'll be examining in great detail." "You're welcome to try, laddie." Haakon laughed, his thick torso vibrating with humor. "I'll enjoy knocking you sideways so hard you'll have to doff your cap to lace your boots." "You and whose army? Not that collection of half-wits you call your unit. Half of them are still pulling sand out of their breeches from the dunking they took; the other half couldn't find said breeches with both hands. And if your new man Gyllir there spends any more time rooting around in the poison oak he's presently hip deep in, he'll be even more useless than he was when the sun rose today. I'm taking it on faith that it did, you understand." Haakon's gaze followed the direction of Dorian's bemused gesturing and he saw for himself the extent of his squire's foolishness. "How much more of this nonsense must we endure, d'you reckon? There's naught Dorian’s Story - 3

out here but hares and half-wits today. The king's seer has lost his sight, if you ask me." "An actor of even modest skill could do better." Dorian nudged his horse into motion. "Let's finish this and be on our way. I, for one, can think of better ways to pass my evenings. The king will have to take my word that although his enemies may very well pray nightly for his early demise; there are no enemy encampments to be found this day." They spent the rest of the day completing their survey of the area, with Haakon's man Gyllir complaining loud and long as to his misery, as predicted. By the time they'd finished, what little light was left was fleeing faster than a discovered thief. So, they strung up their makeshift shelters and settled in for another miserable, wet night. The grousing in the morning was irritating, if predictable, when Dorian roused the men before first light. He'd have thought they'd be as anxious to get home as he was, but instead he was treated to a litany of complaints, starting with the quality of the rations and including a few slurs on his mother's good name regarding her alleged congress with an ass. Dorian rubbed at his forehead with the back of one gloved hand and sighed. There'd been a time when he'd cared about things like unit discipline and doing things the military way. Now, though… now he cared only about getting the task done with the utmost haste. If complaining like an Dorian’s Story - 4

overburdened ox helped, well, he could overlook a bit of bellyaching. Two hours later, when they were finally getting on the road headed south, toward home and hearth, Dorian was wishing he'd applied the boot to a select few backsides a bit earlier. What little light there was to start with was fair gone, and any hope of seeing their beds tonight was lost. Still, it was good to be on their way at last. This first bit of the journey was relatively risk-free, with only a watch kept on the way they'd just come -- the forest allowing cover that the open road ahead did not. Dorian wasn't losing any sleep worrying over it, though. He and his men had just spent two weeks establishing that their enemy was nowhere close about. He could afford to let his mind wander a bit, stray back to exactly what was waiting for him back home that drove him to push for a speedier trip back than the one out had been. He closed his eyes, body swaying with the easy back and forth of his mount's gait, and recalled kissing a lush mouth. Soft lips clung to his, a sweet pink tongue coming out to lick daintily at the taste of him. Even now his fingers curled, as though to sink into a round, firm ass with skin as smooth as cream, overlaying lean muscle. The physical ache in his balls reminded him to the hour how long it had been since he'd crushed that slender body against his. Tasim. His beautiful boy. Dorian’s Story - 5

Given to him mere months ago by the king as a reward for a successful season's raiding and already his most valued possession. Dorian looped the reins another turn around his fist and sank deeper into the fantasy. He tried to recall the exact hue of Tasim's rich, dark gaze; the texture and softness of Tasim's kissable mouth; the incredible sweetness of sinking his cock into Tasim's waiting ass. Groaning, Dorian opened his eyes and looked for friction against the rise of the saddle beneath him, but the curve from seat to pommel was too modest. Rising up in the stirrups, he leaned forward over his mount's neck and let his stiffening cock rub against what little resistance there was, finding scant relief and only fuelling his lust that much more. The ache in his thighs growing, Dorian eventually sat back in the saddle, willing himself to relax, the impatient tossing of his mount's head mute evidence of his inability to do so. Dorian flexed the fingers of both hands and eased his grip on the reins. Zaladjuk, the big roan who'd been his companion for countless campaigns, tossed his head and stretched his neck, mouthing the bit as though to scold Dorian for the extent of his bad humor. Dorian patted the horse's muscular neck. "Sorry, old friend. None of this is your fault. I know. We'll be home soon enough." "Talking to your horse, Dorian? Bad as all that is it?" Haakon drew abreast, the white of his teeth a sharp contrast with both his swarthy skin and dark beard as he Dorian’s Story - 6

mocked Dorian. "For the sake of what little morale we have left, could you forsake conversing with the beasts of the field until we're back to the castle, at least?" "Haakon, as I've told you any number of times before, there's no shame in admitting impotence. I can see no other justification for your lack of interest in what awaits us upon our return." "You didn't use to be such a horny bastard, Dorian. Has your little taste of tribute turned you soft so quickly?" "Soft isn't my problem, friend." Dorian put one gloved hand over his crotch, flexing up into the welcoming grip of his own hand. "I make no apologies for looking forward to what welcomes me at journey's end." "Soft as a baby's behind, laddie. Soft as a baby's behind." *** Two days' steady slogging found them at last making the slow, gradual climb up the hill to Castle Bristensk. Haakon had continued his needling of Dorian throughout, the result being that by the time they crested the last rise, Dorian had no patience left to speak of. To prevent bloodshed, he'd separated himself out from the group, riding alone at the head of the ragged column of soldiers making their way home. A passel of villagers came out to greet them, a mixed group made up of equal parts existing family, sweethearts, and enterprising opportunists looking to collect a few coins for services rendered. It was to one Dorian’s Story - 7

of this last group that Dorian tossed a florin as he swung a leg over Zaladjuk's rump and dropped to the ground. "Brush him well, then wipe him with a moist cloth. Don't forget the salve for his feet either, boy, or you'll get a taste of my crop on your backside." The boy tugged his forelock and nodded, tucking the coin away and tossing an, "Aye, captain! You won't regret it," in Dorian's direction as he took Zaladjuk's reins and led him away. Bedroll hoisted over his shoulder, Dorian took several steps in the direction of the barracks before remembering he bunked elsewhere now and headed for his personal quarters. Until a year ago he'd shared barracks quarters with the rest of the king's personal soldiers. It hadn't been a bad life and the king set great store by unity of purpose. Believing strongly that camaraderie off the field led to success on the field, by the king's orders resources were shared, everything from food to shelter. Dorian crossed the open area between the stables and the periphery of the castle. As a captain of the king's personal guard he rated somewhere between a tailor and a vassal, and since he'd forgone an increase in pay in order to gain a room to himself, he'd been given a room within the castle itself-- albeit just barely. Barely larger than Zaladjuk's stall, still, it offered that rarest of commodities: privacy. Another dozen strides found Dorian lifting the latch on the door to his quarters. He hoped that Tasim had heard the lookout's call, heralding the return of the troops. It Dorian’s Story - 8

was still early spring and ordinarily he would expect to find Tasim clothed in the long pants, tunic, and soft boots that Dorian had provided for him. Warmer weather called for fewer clothes, but they weren't there quite yet and Dorian had given permission for Tasim to cover himself. A homecoming was a special occasion, though, and Dorian had hopes for a formal presentation. If Tasim had taken his lessons to heart, he'd be crouched naked, ass in the air, forehead kissing the floor, and his arms outstretched. A pleasant tingling of anticipation thrummed in Dorian's cock as he pushed the door open… to find naught but a darkened room. He gave the room a cursory inspection, but found nothing to suggest Tasim's whereabouts. Casting his bedroll aside, Dorian went off in search of his wayward boy. A half hour's fruitless search later and consternation had given way to alarm. He'd searched the great hall where communal meals were taken, the kitchen, and even the schooling field where soldiers in training received instruction. Dorian knew Tasim was sometimes drawn there by his fascination with the male form and on more than one occasion had found his lad, watching the men sweating and grunting as they jousted under the noonday sun. Unable to locate his Tasim, Dorian stood just outside the great hall where three corridors converged, ticking off possibilities in his mind. Tasim's status as Dorian's Dorian’s Story - 9

pilorum left no room for doubt: he belonged to Dorian as surely as the goatherd's flock and the queen belonged to the herding boy and the king. More so, even, because the goatherd didn't actually own the animals he tended. "Shall I guess at the cause of your worry, Captain?" Griselda, the wizened old woman who acted as steward and overseer of newly acquired slaves paused in her stroll, an arm's length away with a curious expression on her face. "Madam." Dorian folded his arms loosely across his chest. "Have you knowledge of where I might find an errant boy? I find I am missing one." "Would any do, or must it be the one I brought to you at the last gifting ceremony?" The old woman's face betrayed nothing but honest curiosity, but Dorian wasn't fooled. "You know the lad I mean, Griselda. Do you know where he is?" "Well… I couldn't speak to that directly, you understand." Griselda's gaze strayed down one particular corridor and Dorian's followed as though the two were connected. Perhaps they were. At the end of the long hallway stood a pair of tall doors. Heavy, dark wooden doors bound up in metal casings at the corners, with large rounded studs set into them and two huge handles that probably weighed a half-stone each. Two soldiers stood guard outside, each with a broadsword at his belt and a skinning knife in his boot. The entryway to the king's quarters. Dorian’s Story - 10

Dorian's blood chilled. He had good reason to know the king's tastes and before he realized it, he was halfway down the hall, striding swiftly toward the door. Dorian gave each of the soldiers a warning look. "Not a word, if you know what's good for you." The two guards exchanged glances, but didn't move except to rest their hands ostentatiously in a neutral position atop their sword hilts. They would do nothing to stop him. He pushed his way through the heavy wooden doors and into the room beyond. There were sconces all around the room, but only a handful were lit. Although even that number would have brightened Dorian's small room brilliantly, the King's chambers were much larger and the resulting illumination was merely modest. The huge fireplace was likewise lit, big chunks of thorn wood filling the room with their distinctive aroma as they burned. The king stood near the center of the room, his attention focused on what was in the cage that rested on the floor. Or rather who was in the cage, for it took only a moment for Dorian to realize that it was his own Tasim inside, trussed up like a… Tasim's back was to Dorian, but Dorian would recognize the singular shape of Tasim's spread legs and bifurcated ass anywhere. Legs locked in an upright position, Dorian’s Story - 11

Tasim's arms were stretched out behind him as he was forced to bend at the waist, secured at every quarter by various cuffs and straps. Two cuffs at Tasim's ankles kept his legs open wide to form an inverted V, two more at his wrists and two at his elbows kept his arms pulled backward, while a strap around Tasim's neck kept his posture outstretched and bent forward. It was the final band, though, that had Dorian's pulse pounding in his ears. A strip of leather no wider than Dorian's thumb was wound around Tasim's balls, and probably his cock, too, and tied to the back of the cage. It tethered Tasim so tightly he could no doubt scarcely breathe, as well as ensured that he would not try to move the smallest degree in any direction. The skin over Tasim's balls was stretched so tightly it shone in the firelight, gleaming the deep reddish-purple of blood with nowhere to go. "Majesty…" Struggling to keep his voice even, Dorian fought the urge to leap -- to rush to Tasim's defense -his body trembling with the effort. "Well, if it isn't my favorite captain of the guards, come home from his campaign in the wilds of the north. I'd like a full report, Captain. Tell me what you found -- and it had better be worth the loss of your presence here for these past weeks. Do you see what I'm reduced to when I have to entertain myself?" Dorian crossed the room to the king's side and got the added shock of finding Tasim's head tied, too. Two curved bits of metal, not unlike fishhooks without the barbs, fit neatly into Tasim's mouth and were secured behind, stretching his lips wide and holding his mouth Dorian’s Story - 12

perpetually open. Above it all, Tasim's gaze searched for Dorian's, dark eyes beseeching him. "Majesty… your highness. This is not permitted. This pilorum is mine -- do you recall?" "Perhaps. I gave him to you, true. But it's all mine when all's said and done, anyway, so what's the difference? I mean, really. There's something so very appealing about this one, don't you think? I believe it's the quality of the eyes. Tell me, does it take much to make him cry?" It was with the last remark that Dorian had had enough. Drawing back, he slapped the king hard across the face. Not using all his strength, Dorian moderated it just enough to snap the man's head back hard and send him sprawling. Too bad he didn't wear a ring. It would have left a nice mark. *** "Dorian." "Yes?" "Where will we go?" Dorian dipped the cloth in the warm water in which they sat, with Tasim seated across his lap; he squeezed out the excess water and smoothed it over Tasim's chest. Moving gently, he stroked down Tasim's neck, over one Dorian’s Story - 13

shoulder, down the arm and back up across Tasim's chest. Then repeated the action. "Go?" "Yes! You struck the king." Dark brown eyes fixed worriedly on Dorian's face, the sleek brows above them were drawn together, ruining the line of their elegantly plucked arch. "We must go before they find us." "Who do you fear will come after us?" Dorian cocked his head a bit to one side and studied the gold hoops that pierced Tasim's nipples now. Does it take much to make him cry? Two fat tears had rolled down Tasim's face the day the old woman had put a needle through Tasim's sensitive flesh at Dorian's request and inserted the gold rings he'd supplied. But the skin around the rings had healed nicely and they now sported tiny bells on special occasions, while giving Dorian's tongue and lips something to torment Tasim with at others. "Why… the guards, of course. The king's men." One slim arm slipped about Dorian's waist, Tasim then using it to hang onto Dorian, pulling himself even closer if such a thing was possible. "They will kill you, no? Or perhaps… perhaps they might merely flog you?" Dorian laughed and Tasim's body vibrated with the motion transferred from Dorian's chest. "There is no 'merely' about a public flogging, my sweet. Flesh is split and blood runs freely, I can assure you." Tasim gasped. "But there will be no flogging this time, nor any summary executions. There will be no repercussions at all, I promise you. Well, a few, perhaps. But they will be small ones and needn't concern you."

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"How can you be so sure?" Tasim raised a hand and laid it alongside Dorian's face, all the better to direct Dorian's gaze to meet his. Dorian loved to gaze into Tasim's eyes. Warm and dark, the exact color of strong kaffa, it was the sense that he could look into Tasim's soul and see himself reflected that engaged him most. "Because this was not the first time it's happened -- far from it." "But…" Tasim's mouth fell open in an astonished stare for a long moment. At last, he simply asked, "Why?" For this he couldn't return Tasim's open gaze. Dorian wrapped his arms around Tasim in a quick hug. "Because, for the past two years and more I have been the king's riða." "I don't know that word." Dorian dunked the cloth in the warm waters again and resumed his cleansing of Tasim's body. The shock he had received upon seeing Tasim displayed that way in the king's quarters had shaken him deeply and now he could think only of removing all traces of the king's hands on his boy's body. "It means lover." Dorian's hand strayed to Tasim's groin, where Tasim's cock and balls lay quietly tucked away. Not firm and full, like they usually grew whenever the two of them were in such close contact, but soft and small -- almost as though they sought to avoid notice. Tasim opened his legs. "Why not just say lover, then?" Dorian’s Story - 15

Remembering that Tasim wasn't a native speaker of Kundaran and still had difficulty sometimes with shades of meaning, Dorian switched to Tasim's language. "Because it has another meaning as well. It also describes the mating of a male animal -- a horse, specifically." Tasim looked up questioningly. He gazed up into Dorian's face, so long that Dorian wondered what could be going through his head. Ordinarily as guileless as a child, Tasim was maddeningly blank to him now. Like one of the stone walls that comprised the castle he'd brought Tasim to. "Oh. I understand." Tasim looked away, then began shaking his head slowly. "No. No, I don't. I don't understand anything. Must we stay here? I know I belong to you, but when you're not here…" Dorian had difficulty getting even a single word past his clenched teeth. "Yes?" "I don't feel safe." Spoken as they were into Dorian's shoulder, Tasim's muffled words nevertheless fell on Dorian's ears like four small stones dropped from a great height. If he couldn't keep this much of his world protected, what kind of a man was he? What did his worth amount to? "Come." Dorian set Tasim gently off his lap and held his lad steady while he found his feet. "Let's dry ourselves before we shrivel beyond recognition. We can talk more about this later." Dorian’s Story - 16

The communal bathing area was rarely used this time of night and no one disturbed their progress as Dorian dried first Tasim, then himself. Tasim protested Dorian's caretaking, but it was a feeble attempt; the poor lad was still abnormally quiet and bore little resemblance to his usual garrulous self. Rough towels made a poor cover-up, so Dorian draped his own sweat-stained shirt over Tasim's nakedness and carried him back to Dorian's rooms. Paved though the halls and courtyard might be, bare feet made for slow going. It only made sense to carry Tasim. Later, in their bed, Dorian held Tasim when he began to shake uncontrollably. Hardly surprising, Dorian had seen it many times. Often after a young soldier's first battle or a particularly fierce engagement, it wasn't unusual for the very warrior who mere minutes before had been celebrating with his comrades to have a delayed reaction. How much worse was it for Tasim, not being the least bit soldierly? "Dorian?" Tasim tightened his arms around Dorian's waist and moved his head closer, until their lips nearly touched. "Yes?" "Could we…?" "What?" Dorian's hand slipped lower to palm Tasim's sweetly rounded ass, but he halted as soon as he realized what he was doing and returned his hand to Tasim's lower back. It was killing him to be this close and do nothing. His head might be counseling that Tasim Dorian’s Story - 17

needed to be handled delicately after his ordeal, but his cock wouldn't be distracted, having craved this very thing for the entire time he’d been away. Tasim pressed his groin closer to Dorian's and Dorian didn't think it was entirely his imagination that Tasim's dick was growing harder. "Please?" Again, Dorian's hand strayed down to Tasim's ass, but this time he let it linger. His own cock was responding eagerly, trapped though it was behind a layer of clothing he'd donned, chiefly to discourage this very thing. "You're sure? I can't believe you'd want to, not after what happened." Dorian arched forward, his dick pressing against Tasim's, the sensation making his head swim. Tasim hooked a leg over Dorian's hip and undulated against him. At the same time, he freed one arm from where it had lain trapped between them and curved it around Dorian's neck, pulling himself close against Dorian's chest. "I need to feel close to you. Connected -like I'm a part of you. Make me think of something good, something else. Please." This last was accompanied by a twist of the hips that set free the tide of desire that Dorian had been holding at bay. He rolled Tasim beneath him, letting Tasim's legs wrap eagerly around his waist as he took Tasim's mouth in a hungry kiss. Tasim clung to him, kissing Dorian back with an eagerness that thrilled him. That sweet mouth… Gods! Plunging his tongue into Tasim's mouth, Dorian let Dorian’s Story - 18

loose the passion, the fierce joy he found in partnering with this man. Only this man. Frantic hands pushed at Dorian's trews, thumbs hooked in the waistband and shoved, but to no avail. Dorian pulled back just enough to speak. "Wait. Wait." With one hand Dorian pushed himself up, while the other fiddled with the ties at his waist. Although it took but moments, these moments moved as slowly as all of eternity. While Dorian shoved his pants down to just below his ass, Tasim reached for the oil stored in a small ceramic pot next to the bed. "Hurry." Tasim's whispered plea was as a match to the bonfire of Dorian's desire. He brushed oil over first himself, then Tasim, his fingers fumbling in his haste. Dorian slipped one lubricated finger inside Tasim. When he withdrew it to add a second, Tasim shook his head urgently. "No need. Just fuck me. Please." Dorian shot Tasim a hard glance. "You're sure?" Tasim nodded. "I'm fine." With that Dorian aligned their bodies, the blunt head of his cock aiming unerringly for Tasim's hole. The oil had done its work and it took but a single thrust of Dorian's hips to seat himself completely. Heaven. It was like heaven, being inside his beautiful Tasim again. Although it had been but a matter of weeks, it felt like months. Like the first time again. Dorian withdrew, or tried to, anyway, his body protesting all the way. Dorian’s Story - 19

Inches, fractions, were all he could force himself to pull away when every bit of his being was urging him to pound home, again and again and again. Steadying himself, Dorian braced his arms on either side of Tasim's body as Tasim held himself open, arms hooked under his knees. Once anchored, Dorian could rock his hips in a steady rhythm, withdrawing until only the inner ring of Tasim's muscle held the tip of his cock inside. Retreating felt wrong, but he must endure it for the span of moments only until he was surging inward again, moving toward everything good in his world. Dorian winched his eyes open long enough to confirm that the rhythmic grunts slipping out from Tasim's mouth were of the pleasurable type before allowing them to close again to focus on the perfection of their joining. He couldn't pinpoint it, but something about this young, dark-haired slip of a thing made him the most satisfying partner Dorian could recall. Another long "Oh" of tortured delight slipped from between Tasim's lips to hang in the air between them. Dorian balanced on one hand in order to wrap the other around Tasim's cock, to stroke it with firm, demanding strokes just as he quickened the pace of his thrusts. It didn't take long for Tasim to tumble over the edge into completion, nor much longer for Dorian to follow him, the proof of Tasim's pleasure streaming in thick ropes up his chest. Slowly, Tasim lowered first one leg, then the other, until both feet rested flat on the bed. He lay panting as his hands unclenched from the fists they'd formed and came to rest on Dorian's forearms. Eventually his eyes opened Dorian’s Story - 20

and blinked up at Dorian, a smile coming to Tasim's full, pink lips. "Thank you." "I do what I can." Tasim's smile flickered as Dorian's flippant response filtered through his head. Do you? Dorian could hear Tasim's thoughts as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud. "Tasim, what happened with the king… it will not happen again. Do you understand me?" "Yes, Dorian." Tasim's gaze focused on something across the room. Dorian took that wide jaw in one hand and directed Tasim's face toward his. "But you don't believe me?" "I do." "Well, then. Why the worried look?" "I believe you mean what you say. But… he is the king, Dorian. His word is law." As Dorian's cock slipped from Tasim's body, evidence of Dorian's possession dribbled out. As Tasim gathered himself to rise, Dorian held him down with one wellplaced hand in the middle of Tasim's chest. "Stay." "But, I thought you liked it when I clean you afterward." Uncertainty mixed with worry, Tasim's delicate brow furrowed. "And I do. This time, however, I want to enjoy the whole beautifully debauched picture you make. Dorian’s Story - 21

Everyone should see you as you are now. Everyone." Trailing two fingers in the sticky fluid drying on Tasim's stomach, Dorian pressed them to Tasim's lips. "Open." Tasim obeyed with speed born of practice. He accepted Dorian's fingers as easily as he accepted Dorian's cock, even going as far as to lick and suck at them like he would a cock. "I do so love the way you do that. So sweet." "Not as sweet as yours, though." Tasim's tongue swiped at the side of his mouth, once on each side, before retreating again. "That's not what I meant, flatterer." "It's only the truth." The look of sultry heat in Tasim's eyes went straight to Dorian's cock and the only possible response was a heated kiss. Still hungry for the man, Dorian drank thirstily from Tasim's mouth, those lush pink lips clinging eagerly to his until Dorian forced himself to break it off. "No more," he gasped. "My day began early and many leagues away. I think we both are in need of some rest." One slender hand cupped Dorian's face as Tasim gazed up searchingly into Dorian's eyes. "All right. Whatever you say." Tasim rolled to his side, settling into Dorian's arms as his eyes drifted shut. Enfolding Tasim in his embrace, Dorian breathed deeply of Tasim's scent -- the soap he Dorian’s Story - 22

used to wash his hair, the sweet smell of skin, the musky aroma of their sex drying on his body, sticky and pale. Tomorrow and its problems would come soon enough. No need to welcome it in. *** "You have a way with the beasts, Dorian, no doubt. I wonder that the king doesn't make you his master of horse." "Not really. Simply that after feeling your iron grip, anything less seems a holiday to them." Dorian took another sip of his friend's very good cider. "Besides, my current duties keep me sufficiently busy, I find." They sat in the shade of an old oak, enjoying a cool drink after an afternoon working with his friend Ariston's horses. He'd accepted the invitation of his old teacher to escape to the countryside and assist with a troublesome mount in training, bringing Tasim along to enjoy a day away from the castle. Haakon had joined them and brought his boy Ishaq and the two lads were playing an informal game of bailol with Ariston's son, Nikias, kicking a ball between them, and trying to get it through a hoop they'd secured atop an old tree stump. As Dorian and his friends watched, Ishaq achieved the game's goal more often than the other two, enduring the inevitable accusations of cheating. Nikias' attempts to mediate were of course taken as interference and the game quickly deteriorated into a free-for-all, with the boys laughing and chasing each other around the dusty field. Dorian’s Story - 23

"This is a nice place you have here, Ariston." Haakon's comment was addressed to their host, but his gaze followed his lad Ishaq as he ran, hair and skirt flying. Like Tasim, Ishaq was a pilorum, captured in the same raid close to the Kundaran/Isthiban border. "You're happy with your decision, then?" "Absolutely. Only wish I'd had the sense to do it years ago." Ariston topped-up Dorian's and Haakon's mugs before pouring more for himself. "You two should do the same. Marry yourselves a couple of rich widows and retire to the country. Learn to make cider and father a passel of brats. Or haven't you yet had your fill of the glamorous court life?" His old teacher's tone made clear Ariston's opinion of that question. Dorian glanced over at Haakon, but his friend's attention was still on the boys' horseplay. Letting his gaze follow Haakon's, Dorian had to agree it was a pleasing scene. Long limbs bared to the afternoon sun, with only the short skirts worn for sport keeping the lads from complete nudity, it was an enticing sight, to be sure. Through it all, Tasim's smile shone like a beacon against the smooth brown skin of his face, his laughter lifting the darkness that had increasingly descended on Dorian's soul of late. "Did you hear me, Dorian, or does blood now rush to your ears, as well?" "What? I heard you, old man. Rich widows interest me not, but a life in the country?" Dorian glanced around at Dorian’s Story - 24

the neat little farmhouse at their backs and pasture of horses off in the distance. "This isn't bad -- not by half." "Are my ears working properly or am I dreaming, having dozed off courtesy of our host's cider? You? In the country?! Doing what? Growing potatoes and root vegetables like an old jaffa woman?" Haakon openly scoffed. "You're a warrior. It's not just what you do, it's what you are." Gazing back at his old friend with equanimity, Dorian spoke without weighing his words. "And what if I'd like to change that? What if I can think of other ways to use my time? Better ways." "Like what?" Over Haakon's shoulder Tasim used the stump with the hoop atop it as a shield, feinting first one way and then the other, as he held off Nikias and Ishaq. Tasim's laughter, full-throated and joyous, rose above the other boys' taunts and floated back to Dorian. It took a conscious effort to keep the indulgent smile from his face -- the one that so often threatened to break through of late. "Haakon, my boy, take it from an old soldier. In all likelihood you've marched into the fray with Dorian at your side for the last time. This battle is already lost, I'm afraid," Ariston concluded. As Ariston spoke, Ishaq lunged for Tasim, who twisted away and sprinted for Dorian's side. He skidded to a halt using Dorian's shoulders as a brake, the fingers of both hands digging into Dorian's skin. "Save me!" Tasim had Dorian’s Story - 25

scarce enough wind to form words, his chest heaving with his body's effort to drag air into his lungs. "They cheated… I didn't let-- Stop it now! I'm safe!" This last was directed at the other boys, who had followed and now stood by, probably waiting to see if Tasim's cry of sanctuary would be honored. "Whoa, now. Slow down, all of you." Without conscious thought, Dorian shifted, his arm slipping around Tasim's waist, while Haakon captured Ishaq with a hand around a wrist, and Ariston admonished his son. "Nikias, that's now how we treat guests." "But, Father--" An appealing boy, he had his father's wavy hair and hazel eyes. Although younger than both Ishaq and Tasim, young Nikias was already nearly a head taller than either. "That's enough from you, boy. Mind your manners and learn from your elders the duties of a good host." Ariston turned to his former pupils. "You're welcome to spend the night. I've an extra room -- you two can decide between you who gets it and who sleeps in the barn. I've hay a-plenty and it makes a decent enough bed. What say you?" Standing close against Dorian's side, Tasim fair radiated youthful health, even through a coat of dust and sweat, while at that precise moment the aroma of a savory stew from the farmhouse kitchen arrived on a breeze. Dorian's stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that the morning meal was hours in the past and lunch had been naught but biscuits and cheese. The prospect of a Dorian’s Story - 26

leisurely dinner was appealing, especially when weighed against a long ride back to the castle. He was already nodding when he looked for his friend's decision. "I believe that the king and court can survive without us for one more sunrise. Haakon?" "Why not? The lovely Thais has been tempting me all day with the promise of her cooking. It'll be a treat to share a meal in such an intimate setting. I'm not sure I remember how to eat unaccompanied by the belching of a full legion of soldiers." Ariston's smile was too genuine to be faked. "Excellent! Let the lads first go wash the stink of the day off themselves, then help with serving duties. Nikias, show them the outdoor shower." Tasim's hesitation was evident in the tensing of his body beneath Dorian's hand. He knew his boy and understood Tasim's reluctance. Each new aspect of Kundaran society was a hurdle to be overcome, another puzzle to be solved. A kiss to reassure would be out of place, so Dorian contented himself with a fond rub to Tasim's ass. "Go, now." "But…" "Tasim, make me proud." This last was said quietly, accompanied by an encouraging pat. Tasim's lips compressed and he nodded quickly. "All right." With shoulders squared and head held high, Tasim followed. Dorian’s Story - 27

Dorian's heart twisted in his chest. He put any small bit of worry for Tasim out of his mind, though, and concentrated on Ariston and Haakon; he had several questions in mind for his old instructor. By the time he had washed and donned clean clothes borrowed from his host, Dorian had downed another tankard of cider and was feeling decidedly mellow. As a sample of country living went, it wasn't half-bad. Supper was a casual affair, with Tasim and Ishaq assisting with the serving of food and removal of dishes. It was a good thing standards were relaxed because neither of the lads was what even the roughest of soldiers would consider polished. Etiquette and protocol were advanced concepts, and Tasim especially had difficulty with knowing who should be served first and when it was considered polite to remove a plate. Dorian didn't think it was his imagination that Tasim seemed clumsier than usual, dropping things and forgetting his please-and-thank-yous. As the evening grew late, Tasim stayed close, hovering nearby when Ishaq, Nikias and the rest of Ariston's children withdrew to another room. When Dorian and Haakon joined Ariston and his wife in a game, Tasim lingered, folding himself into a small chair in the corner. It was impossible for Dorian to hide the fond smile that curved his mouth as after a while, despite Tasim's best efforts, his head began to nod. When Dorian next looked, Tasim's head rested against the padded chair back, his thick lashes lying flush against the smooth expanse of his cheeks. Tasim's chest rose and fell in the deep, even rhythm of sleep. Dorian’s Story - 28

Not only because it would have been poor manners to retire, but because one of the reasons for the visit was to seek Ariston's counsel, Dorian stayed late, slipping questions to his old teacher in between his rolls of the dice and moving the smooth stones along the rounded depressions in the old wooden gaming board. The hour was late when he shook Tasim awake and together they made their way out to the barn, Ariston's laughing admonishments against molesting the livestock ringing in his ears. "You're not much of a country boy, are you?" Dorian's arm lay across Tasim's shoulders as they walked, a waxing moon lighting their path. "I'm sure I could learn, if I needed to." Tasim glanced up, not fully awake, having difficulty keeping his eyes open. "Do I need to? You wouldn't leave me here?" Suddenly wide-awake, Tasim clutched at Dorian's arm, alarm evident in his face. "No, no. Of course not. I wouldn't leave you." He stopped, pulling Tasim into a full embrace. "I wouldn't leave you." His face turned up to Dorian's, Tasim's lips were close. Dorian closed the distance, taking Tasim's mouth in quick, devouring kiss. Tasim's arms went around Dorian's waist, clutching tight. Tasim whimpered as he stretched up, his mouth meeting Dorian's with an intensity that shocked Dorian. "Easy, there." Dorian ran one hand through Tasim's short curls, Tasim's neck arching backward with the Dorian’s Story - 29

movement. Tasim's eyes opened a crack, but he said nothing. "What's got you so worried?" Tasim only shook his head, looking back in the direction of the farmhouse. "Let's go, then." The barn was only a short distance away and Dorian kept one arm around Tasim's shoulders as he led the way. Like the house, the barn was of middling size, neat and well maintained. The earthy smells of livestock filled Dorian's nose as he held a door open for Tasim. A milk cow inhabited one stall, while a pen containing a few goats took up most of another corner. A wagon of sufficient size to require two draft horses to pull it stood off to one side, while Ariston's stallion whickered softly in the remaining corner. Adjacent to the wall, a sturdy ladder led up to the hayloft overhead. Dorian set Tasim on it and encouraged him to climb with a jerk of his head and a swat on the rump. After locating the blankets Thais had set out for them, Dorian followed Tasim up. "Tell me." Together they had spread the blankets and they now sat facing each other, Tasim sitting with his knees tucked under him, hands on his thighs. Twice he glanced up at Dorian before looking away again. "Tasim?" Tasim chewed his upper lip before seemingly addressing his answer to his knees. "I didn't know what to do. I told him he should ask you." Dorian’s Story - 30

"Told who?" Dorian reached for Tasim's chin, tilting it up and forcing Tasim's gaze to meet his. "Nikias." "Go on." "He wanted…" Dorian's fingers brushed Tasim's cheek, as always, loving the remarkable smoothness of Tasim's skin beneath his fingers. "Wanted?" "He is coming of age. He has no partners beyond his brothers and sisters. He wanted…" Tasim's voice trailed off as he closed his eyes, unable to look Dorian in the face as he spoke. "Yes?" "He wanted me to partner with him. Suck him. Or let him fuck me," Tasim whispered miserably. His poor Tasim. "And what did you tell him?" "I didn't know what you would want." Tasim's shoulders lifted a fraction as he fought his inner battle. "I didn't know if you would like me to because he is the son of our host, or if it would anger you to act without permission. So I told him to ask you first -- that I would do as you directed." Dorian sighed. "Oh, my little love. What a dilemma. And, although I can sympathize with the boy's problem, Dorian’s Story - 31

he put you in a terrible position: act and displease me, or not act and risk angering Ariston." "So I was right? You would have been displeased?" "Strictly speaking, there are no rules to go against. Different people view the status of pilori differently. There's no question that you belong to me and that you are my personal servant. Some expect their pilori to service their friends and family upon request." Eyes wide and dark, Tasim's gaze searched Dorian's face, tension obvious in the furrowed brow Tasim didn't try to hide. "But you wouldn't do that." "I would try not to," Dorian stated carefully. "There might be times, though, when I would have no choice." "Oh." Tears welled up in Tasim's eyes, eventually spilling over. "Oh, no." "That day is not here yet. Please don't worry." It was an easy thing to reach for Tasim and enfold him in Dorian's arms. Tasim buried his head in Dorian's chest, nuzzling against Dorian's borrowed shirt. "Thank you." Thank you. He'd just informed Tasim that one day it might be necessary to pass him around like a goblet of cheap wine at harvest and Tasim had thanked him. How much lower could he sink? Dorian’s Story - 32

"Here. Sit up." Two quick tugs and Dorian had pulled his shirt off; he used it to dry Tasim's tears before casting it aside. He helped Tasim off with his own shirt, running his hands over the smooth skin of Tasim's chest, brushing Tasim's nipples with the lightest of touches to see them tighten up like anemones. Dorian lowered Tasim back against the blankets so thoughtfully provided by Ariston's wife and stroked Tasim's belly. With such a light frame, Tasim couldn't carry much extra weight, but the skin there was springy with only the slightest hint of give, when Dorian pressed it with his fingers. What little body hair Tasim might normally lay claim to was routinely shaved, to give him the requisite youthful appearance of a pilorum. The resulting look was lean and sleek, and utterly fascinating to Dorian. He pressed a kiss to Tasim's stomach, the sweetness of Tasim's skin delighting Dorian's tongue. Rimming the sensitive depression of Tasim's belly button, he held Tasim down with firm hands on Tasim's hips as Tasim began to squirm. Tossing his head, Tasim's hands reached for Dorian. "Hands to the side. Hold yourself still, do you hear me?" "Yes. But, Dorian--" "Shush. Not a sound out of you." He couldn't control it. Dorian's mind and body had their own wills when it came to coupling with Tasim. His body assumed command and ordered things to suit its own needs. Dorian’s Story - 33

Dorian untied the drawstring at Tasim's waist and yanked the pants down. Thighs trembling and hands clutching fistfuls of straw, Tasim lay more or less still as Dorian sucked Tasim's cock into his mouth. On the small side, Tasim's cock was none the less perfectly formed. It slid into Dorian's mouth like a mouse diving for its hole and Dorian toyed with it, flicking it with his tongue and sucking it down his throat as it grew. Pulling off of it except for the tip, Dorian palmed Tasim's balls, first weighing them in one hand, then squeezing them, eager as always to see how much Tasim could take. As he increased the pressure, Dorian sucked harder, proud of his little warrior for struggling so mightily to do as he'd been bid. A ragged moan formed deep in Tasim's throat and twice he choked it off before it could erupt. But when Dorian reached beneath Tasim and began to finger his hole, Tasim's legs splayed out to the side, the groan became a wail, cutting across the sounds of the night and silencing the animals below. Dorian sat up from his crouch, working the opening of his own pants. "Perhaps you need something else to keep you busy, if you can't keep quiet on your own." He shoved the pants down to his knees and stretched out beside Tasim on the blanket. It took some maneuvering to adjust for the differences in height, but in short order Dorian’s Story - 34

Dorian had Tasim lying on his side and his own hard cock in Tasim's mouth as he resumed his attentions. Tasim took him eagerly, hands now free to grasp Dorian's ass. Dorian could never decide which was sweeter; Tasim's mouth or his ass, but right now mouth won the day. Hot and sweet, Dorian all but forgot his original task in the glory of the moment. As Tasim suckled him, Dorian picked up where he'd left off, sucking, squeezing, and fingering Tasim's hole. Slowly and luxuriantly, Dorian took his time, even withdrawing from Tasim's mouth when he felt his release boiling up from his balls. He broke off from Tasim a time or two to slow the pace down, quickening when Tasim relaxed, backing off when Tasim became frantic. Eventually, though, Dorian forgot to remember and lost himself in the moment, thrusting into Tasim's sweet mouth even as he swallowed Tasim's cock, over and over until he shot down Tasim's throat. As though Dorian's release had triggered his own, moments later Tasim exploded in Dorian's mouth and Dorian willingly drank him up, savoring the sweet and bitter flavors to the last. *** "Dorian, thank the gods I found you. Where have you been? The king's been calling for you and no one could find you."

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"Calm down, Theron. It doesn't do me much good to hide if everyone and their cat knows where I've gone, now does it?" Dorian climbed down off Zaladjuk and tossed his reins to the same stable boy who'd taken them upon Dorian's return from the north. It appeared he now had a hanger-on of his own. It didn't help that Theron reminded Dorian of a younger, better-looking version of himself. Young, fit and spoiling for a fight, Theron had been badly in need of a mentor when Dorian had taken the man under his wing. A little over two years later and, if Dorian didn't watch himself, Theron would soon be bucking for Dorian's job. Theron clearly didn't know what to make of Dorian's joking, though. He still took his work seriously and couldn't fathom that not everyone danced to the same tune when it came to dealing with their royal highness. Dorian linked his arm through Theron's and headed them in the direction of the king's chambers. Unpleasant tasks were best dealt with head-on. "Would you like to know the secret of getting on well with our beloved monarch?" Theron responded to the confidential tone Dorian had used and tilted his head closer. "Aye." "Treat him like an old whore whose attentions you're tired of. You'll get on like a house on fire." It took only a moment for Theron's dumbfounded expression to change to laughter. "Dorian, you know I have no head for joking. I thought you serious." Dorian’s Story - 36

"I was, lad. Never more so, in fact." He looked the man up and down. "Not bad. Now let me feel your whip hand. Promising." They approached the long hall to the king's private quarters. The same two soldiers stood on guard that had been on duty when Dorian had come looking for Tasim. They stood impassively, not questioning Dorian's and Theron's right to be there. Dorian paused, an arm on Theron's shoulder. "Lad, how's your stomach?" "My stomach?" "Aye. Any problems with the sight of blood? Could you drown a sack of your own sister's kittens, if the need arose?" Theron's look grew troubled. "I suppose. If the cause were just." "This will test your mettle, I promise you." Dorian drew a deep breath. "Let's begin, then." With Theron trailing in his wake, Dorian strode past the soldiers guarding the king's door and walked in, unannounced. "About bloody time, Captain. Where the hell have you been? I've been calling for you since yesterday." The king approached, eyes wild, his gait stiff and jerky. In a high snit, clearly. "Take your little mistress with you, did you? You must have, otherwise you'd have found Dorian’s Story - 37

him here again, and this time I'd have finished the job I started--" The king wasn't a small man, but neither was he the size of Dorian or Theron. It took a moderate effort on Dorian's part to grip him by the throat and lift him clean up off the floor, legs kicking feebly as they dangled. A gasp behind Dorian told him that Theron hadn't believed Dorian's earlier admonition. "Was I not clear at our last discussion that you were not to touch Tasim again?" His king's face turned a mottled shade of purple, the white areas underlain with pink shrinking rapidly. Eyes beginning to bulge, even the choked gurgles died away. "You really are a worthless piece of diseased flesh. Your mother must have lain with vermin; you couldn't possibly be the product of King Solon, may he rest in peace. You're disgusting." Dorian gave the king a little shake for emphasis and released him, letting him slide to the floor in a soggy heap. The revolting little sod had pissed himself again. Gods, but Dorian was tired of the game. He'd often told himself that it cost him nothing to play the king's diversion. It hadn't been hard to take the qualities that came naturally to him and twist them just a bit. The leader of Dorian's country -- anointed by the gods themselves to rule as their proxy -- had a deepseated desire to be dominated. Not just dominated, but humiliated and debased, the more degrading, the better.

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"P-please." Air filling his lungs again, the king's color was returning to normal. The royal accent might be a bit raspy for a day or two, but no one would dare mention it. They hadn't up until now, anyway. "Give me another chance." "I'm done giving you chances, you repulsive slug. It would serve you right if I brought Tasim back up here and let him fuck your worthless ass, but I don't believe in rewarding bad behavior." He wished he couldn't tell -didn't know from long experience -- that the king's response would be a stiff cock and more groveling. "I can be good. Please, just let me show you. Let me show you how very good I can be." His royal highness raised himself up off the floor, but only as far as his hands and knees, and he began to crawl. "Don't bother. I'm not interested." This was where the risk lay; this was where things became truly dangerous. "But perhaps young Theron, here, is." Dorian looked to Theron, who now held Dorian's and Tasim's future in his hands. If Dorian had read the man rightly, he could take over this increasingly noisome task and leave Dorian free to pursue a different path. For over two years he'd held the serpent by the tail. Would Theron prove adept enough to not only accept the handoff, but to continue holding the snake at bay? "I don't know, Dorian." Theron braced his fists on his hips, his chest expanding even as Dorian watched. "He looks like a lot of work. Are you sure it's worth it?"

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"To be honest, not really. He's an indifferent lay and barely adequate when it comes to cocksucking. You could give him a try… see if you think he has any aptitude at all." The key was not to give the king too much time to think. The thing had to be done quickly if it was to work. "Oh, bother. I had plans this afternoon, Dorian. I was going to see a man about a horse." Dorian held back a sigh of relief. It looked as though Theron might have the skills to pull this off, after all. As an added bonus, if Dorian wasn't mistaken interest was stirring in Theron's pants. All the better if both sides of the equation were satisfied. "I wouldn't change my plans if I were you -- certainly not for this… this…" Dorian gestured indifferently in the king's direction. "Come. Walk me to the door." "All right." Theron looked consideringly in the king's direction. "You. Get those clothes off. Dogs don't wear clothing, not the bitches anyway." "He likes humiliation and degradation, the rougher, the better." The king was scrambling out of his clothes, a raging hard-on already in evidence. "If you can work in the incest angle, well, then that's as good as a holiday. Isn't it, you little pervert?" They were nearly to the door. "Dorian," Theron whispered under his breath. "You owe me an explanation. Soon." Dorian kept walking. "Well done, lad. Carry on." Dorian’s Story - 40

***

"But I don't want to go." Tasim's lower lip stuck out stubbornly, his eyes were downcast, shoulders rounded in defeat. It was at times like these that Tasim's youth was most evident. He hadn't yet built the hardened outer shell one inevitably acquired at court, regardless of status or intent. Part of Dorian hoped he never would. "You must go. We both must." A further lowering of his head was Tasim's only response. Hands slowly twisted the hem of the long shirt that ended mid-thigh; Tasim refused to look anywhere but at the floor. He shifted his weight and sighed. "Why can't I wear clothes, then?" Tasim glanced up briefly. The distress in Tasim's eyes had Dorian's gut twisting in response. "For the same reason I will wear only a small breechclout. Protocol and expectations. Come." Dorian reached to pull his shirt off, over his head. "Prepare me. Then I'll do the same for you." Tasim stepped forward reluctantly, taking over the lifting of the shirt from Dorian. The difference in height between them meant that Dorian had to stoop a bit and as Tasim worked, his senses fired, as always, by Tasim's nearness. The scent of Tasim's skin, the slight muskiness of his thick, dark curls, the indefinable foreignness that Tasim still hadn't lost, though he'd been away from his home for lo these many months. Dorian’s Story - 41

Dorian caught Tasim as he turned away, slipping a hand behind Tasim's neck, urging Tasim closer. "Come here." Although outwardly compliant, Tasim's reluctance showed itself in a dozen ways: the hands that lay passive against Dorian's chest instead of twining themselves around his neck or waist; the slight hesitation in Tasim's kiss when Dorian pressed his mouth to Tasim's; the downcast gaze. "You're unhappy." "I thought you were going to…" Tasim pushed back, angling his upper body away from Dorian. "You said you'd look after me." Dorian held Tasim in a loose embrace. How to explain in such a way that Tasim didn't hate him? "It's… complicated." "Complicated how? What's so difficult about making sure I'm free to go about my daily business without being tied up and tortured?" "Your daily business?" Dorian smiled. Suddenly he had a vision of Tasim conducting transactions in the market, haggling over prices, carefully plucking coins from a purse at his waist. "Yes, as a matter of fact. Does that surprise you?" "No. " With Tasim snugged up closely against his waist, Dorian had to fight to keep his mind on the conversation. "No, of course it doesn't. I know you have things that occupy you during the day. I hadn't thought about it in quite those terms." Dorian’s Story - 42

"Dorian, if you can't see to it that I'm safe…" Tasim's gaze was suddenly averted again, his posture stiffer than ever. "Yes?" "I don't know what I'll do," Tasim continued, a bitterness creeping into his tone that Dorian couldn't recall hearing before. "Go away, I suppose." "What? Go away, how?" "I don't know how, exactly. I'll have to figure that out." "Tasim." Dorian pushed aside the cold lump of disquiet that had formed in his belly at Tasim's plainspoken declaration. He had to make Tasim see the futility of that way of thinking. Anything else was ridiculous. Unthinkable. "You wouldn't be allowed to leave. There are no means they would not employ to stop you. Including death, even." "Thank you for the reminder. I'll bear that in mind." "No, you won't. You'll stay right here, where I can look after you. Do we have an understanding?" It was a struggle to keep his voice reasonable. Part of him wanted to tie Tasim up -- shackle Tasim to his bed so that he wouldn't have to worry. How could he go about his daily work, wondering if Tasim had taken it into his head to rabbit off somewhere? "Yes, Dorian." Tasim's eyelashes fluttered a bit as he responded. Dorian’s Story - 43

Dorian was far from reassured. Later, as they made their way to the banquet hall, Tasim seemed to have settled into a mood of not quite open rebellion. He refused to give more than one word answers, no matter how cleverly Dorian phrased his questions and Dorian had even caught Tasim gazing out past the doorway to the great hall, beyond the castle's keep. Although originally done for the sheer ceremony of it, tonight Dorian didn't mind the custom of pilori attending such functions leashed. Ordinarily he considered it needlessly showy and vaguely ridiculous. Tonight he quite enjoyed Tasim's enforced nakedness; the padding of bare feet; the soft tinkling of bells he'd added to the rings that pierced Tasim's tiny brown nipples. Although he couldn't hear or see it, he smiled at the thought of the small pointed weight he'd added out of utter perversity to the ring that now pierced the mostly unseen skin behind Tasim's soft, pink balls. And the tail. Who could forget the horse's tail, attached to a butt plug and now swinging so deliciously behind Tasim as he followed Dorian at the end of a leash? "Dorian! Come join us, man," Haakon bellowed from a spot near the front of the hall. Iason, captain of the infantry and Torsten from the queen's guard sat nearby. It wasn't unheard of to have all three captains at one table, but neither was it an everyday occurrence, to be sure. Dorian’s Story - 44

Nodding at his fellow commanders, Dorian shook his head at his friend. "Haakon. You are like a bear, only without the manners. Were you raised in a cave, truly?" "Do you hear that, lads? Yon Dorian scolds me for my poor manners. I remember a time when he wasn't so refined. Back then he not only joined in our little celebrations, he actually led them." "Are you certain you want me at your table, then? I wouldn't want to damage your standing. Battle hardened leaders such as yourselves may not care to be associated with such as myself." Dorian tried to inject a certain ironic humor in his tone, but the truth was that the atmosphere tonight wasn't the usual careless camaraderie. The guards posted outside the hall had returned his salute with what could only be called a cursory effort, and the normal familiar banter that typically raised the noise level to something just below painful was missing. People still exchanged words, but the mood was subdued. Iason shot him an appraising look, his arm draped loosely around a voluptuous female Dorian thought might be the man's wife. Dorian looked back, not hiding his perusal of the woman at Iason's side. Advertisements of the marriage bond were typically reserved for state and diplomatic occasions, not the more relaxed gathering that this purported to be. "Not a'tall, laddie. If we can't be generous to friends who've fallen on hard times, what kind of comrades would we be, eh?

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A touch at Dorian's waist reminded him that someone stood beside him. He glanced down in time to catch a fierce look from Tasim at Haakon, quickly masked. Tasim's gaze now rested on the slate floor beneath their feet, but his hand remained low on Dorian's back, warm, and oddly comforting. "Thank you. We appreciate the consideration." The benches were somewhat low, but they were padded with a variety of pillows and cushions, most of which had already been claimed. Dorian grabbed a free bolster of a middling size and tossed it down, before arranging himself with a good view of the head tables. Tasim quietly folded himself into a bundle and settled at Dorian's feet. These compulsory dinners had stopped being pleasurable a long time ago. Had they ever really been? Whatever the king hoped to accomplish by way of camaraderie and teamwork was surely negated by the monotony and forced intimacy. The sheer noise level was enough to put Dorian off. He spent the next few moments contemplating a quiet meal on his own. It would begin with a plate set in front of him with something simple that Tasim had prepared. They could eat together -- not this tiered arrangement, ordered by rank and standing. Dorian tore a piece of meadow fowl from the plate piled high at the center of the table in front of them and offered it to Tasim, who took it gratefully, flashing a brief smile in Dorian's direction as he licked his lips. Unable to resist the urge, Dorian used his thumb to smear the juice from the succulent bird across Tasim's Dorian’s Story - 46

lips. Tasim responded by pursing his lips and then slowly running his tongue along the top one, eyes closing suggestively after first ensuring Dorian's gaze was riveted upon him. Dorian clenched his jaw against an involuntary growl, lust sinking its teeth into him with sudden fierceness. When he slipped his thumb into Tasim's mouth, Tasim sucked it easily, naturally. Tasim's hand crept up to Dorian's crotch and Dorian's focus narrowed to just the two of them. Through the thin covering of his deerskin breechclout, Tasim massaged Dorian's cock, encouraging it to tent the soft material. Dorian arched up into Tasim's hand, rolling his hips toward heaven. "Oh, for…" "Dorian. Man, they're calling for you." It pained him to do so, but Dorian pulled himself back from the brink, realizing belatedly how quickly and easily Tasim could take him there. He had but a moment to wonder at it before forcing his attention to the head of the hall and the people seated at the table on the dais there. "Dorian! Yes, come forward, man." The king gestured expansively. "We should like to have a conversation with our most illustrious captain of the guard." Dorian's stomach plummeted at the king's use of the royal "we". When the king began speaking of himself in the abstract, it invariably augured poorly for all involved. Dorian’s Story - 47

"And bring your little wife along, too, why don't you Dorian? You two seem nigh on inseparable these days." Careful not to signal his reaction to the king's sneering tone and slighting reference to Tasim, Dorian gathered himself. He couldn't recall another time when the king had so directly involved himself in the welfare of a pilorum. Public acknowledgement of a legal spouse would have been noteworthy enough, but direct reference to a captured enemy turned pleasure slave was unprecedented. Picking up Tasim's leash from where he'd dropped it as he'd stood, Dorian glanced down. Tasim scrambled to his feet, a startled look shooting across his face at lightning speed, gaze rising to meet Dorian's for an instant before settling more properly on the floor again. Dorian stepped away from the table and made his way to the front of the room, Tasim following closely along behind. Dorian stopped in front of the king's table, front and center. So the king wanted to let this play out in public, did he? Very well. So be it. He squelched the urge to wrap a sheltering arm around Tasim and made a discreet signal with the hand holding the leash for Tasim to stay back. Squaring his shoulders, Dorian met the king's gaze. "How may I serve you, your highness?" "Dorian." The king drew out the first syllable, letting Dorian's name roll off his tongue like a marble falling Dorian’s Story - 48

down a flight of stairs. "Come closer, my… Come closer." Dorian tried to remember if there had been a time when he hadn't been able to see the wanting in the king's eyes. The neediness. There must have been, surely. What he could remember was suddenly recognizing it for what it was and knowing in the very next instant how he could turn it to his own advantage. "Your highness." Dorian bowed his head deferentially. He was walking the blade's edge now and he knew it. "It has been brought to our attention, my good captain, that your… ability is not what it once was." The king's easy slouch belied a relaxed attitude toward the proceedings. Whatever was going to happen, the king appeared to be at ease with the decision. "As all are aware, your recent forays in the north in search of our enemies was fruitless. Worse than fruitless, because precious resources were squandered in a timeconsuming hunt that was less productive than a steer mounting a cow. How do you answer for your failures, captain?" The great hall was filled to capacity tonight, but instead of the usual cacophony, the noise level was less than a quarter of its usual level. Like any predator worth its salt, the crowd could smell blood, no doubt. Tonight the blood was Dorian's, and they crowded closer for a better look.

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"Your highness, it has always been my greatest honor to serve the king's pleasure. If there is ought more I can do, you have but to say the word." "I have said the words, Captain! I told you to bring back the heads of my enemies and you brought back not so much as a head of lettuce." "It is true, your highness, that we did not complete the mission as requested. However--" The king cut him off quickly. "Perhaps that's part of the problem, Captain. I'm not used to my commands being treated as requests." "Your highness, I would be happy to lead another expedition to the area in question and look again. But if a full legion of men was unable to find anything--" "Well, of course they didn't find anything if they were being directed badly. What is needed, obviously, is someone who knows how to lead a man, as you seem to have forgotten." The king glared at Dorian, arms braced on his hips. "Or do you still recall how, Captain?" At last it was out. The undercurrent Dorian had been sensing was finally out. Or, as out as it could be in a public setting. Did the king even realize what he'd said? The truth of the king's nature was not widely known and Dorian had frequently wondered to what extent behavior that might be tolerated in an ordinary citizen would be considered unfitting in a reigning sovereign. Dorian’s Story - 50

What his majesty wanted and needed would likely not be tolerated in the same body and mind as the man anointed by the gods to rule as their proxy over all the land. If Dorian had thought he was walking a tightrope before, things had just taken another turn, one that found Dorian a hair's breadth from what might very well be considered treason. His continued existence depended on how adroitly he maneuvered through these risky waters. "Your highness… my king… It has been my privilege to serve your will, lo these many months, as it has been has my greatest honor to stand at your side for these past two years." The king's eyes widened a bit at Dorian's last statement, but he stood resolute at the head of the hall. "I have been witness to many royal decrees and privy to even a few, if I may, closely held secrets. Those I shall carry with me always -- a sacred trust." And as close to a guaranty of personal safety as could be had in this capricious life. "Tell me, Captain, does the burden of such knowledge not weigh heavily on you? Or is it just one more bit of consignment upon your very broad shoulders? Hmm?" "The weight of your trust could never be a burden, your highness. On the contrary, it is something I carry easily. Joyfully. As I hope I shall continue to do for many years." He was laying it on a bit thick; politics had never been Dorian's strength. Give him a sword and shield over a war of words any day. Dorian’s Story - 51

"Then let it be so, good captain. You are hereby relieved of your current post and assigned to safeguard Kundara's interests as commanding officer of the barracks at Tulkhana Pass on Mount Jruesh. Report to your new post in seven days, commander." Turning to the man behind and to his side, the king gestured emphatically. "Bailiff, make it so. Have the papers prepared and change in pay noted. I want the commander on his way before another sun sets." "Thank you, Highness." Ignoring the subdued murmuring behind him, Dorian dropped briefly to one knee -- just long enough to salute -- then rose. He inclined his head one last time before gathering the leash attached to Tasim's collar and striding from the room. As he cleared the doorway and moved into the corridor beyond, Tasim two steps behind, the noise of the assembled staff burst into a thunderous cacophony. Dorian kept walking, slowing only to accommodate Tasim's shorter stride. "Dorian!" Tasim's urgent whisper danced at the edge of Dorian's awareness, finally breaking through on the third attempt. They were still inside the castle walls; not nearly far enough away for Dorian's liking, but he paused nonetheless. Dorian stretched his hand against the pins and needles sensation bedeviling his palm and realized how tightly he'd clenched it, throughout the entire exchange with the king, probably. Tasim's worried gaze rose to Dorian's face. Dorian’s Story - 52

He wanted to wait -- afraid, as always, of watchful eyes. But he wanted, no, needed this. He gathered Tasim to him, folding Tasim's slim form within his hold, and just held the lad. "Dorian." Although Tasim spoke quietly, Dorian couldn't chance them being overheard. "Sssh. Hold on, just a little longer." The import of what had just taken place was still unfolding within Dorian, the ramifications popping up within his mind like so many toadstools after a spring rain. They should leave -- go where prying eyes couldn't find them -- but he couldn't bring himself to set Tasim away just yet. Only a little longer, then he'd force his arms and heart to submit to his mind's commands. Booted feet on flagstone triggered alarm calls in Dorian's head, calling him back to the present. He released Tasim abruptly, quashing the urge to unclip the leash still attached to the collar around Tasim's neck. Not yet. The soft crackle of the pitch-soaked bundles of reeds that burned above them, lighting the hallway, seemed especially loud tonight. Perhaps it was the rushing of the blood in Dorian's ears, or the pounding of his heart that accentuated every sound, bringing it to his attention, but no matter. Dorian shook off the sensation and forced himself to take up Tasim's leash again.

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"Let us be on about our business. The morning will be here soon enough and we must be ready for it." Tasim nodded solemnly and Dorian couldn't resist one chaste kiss from those sweet lips. He brushed Tasim's mouth with his own and Tasim's lips clung sweetly. Finally, Dorian gathered his resolve, pushed Tasim away and together they slipped quietly back to their quarters, Dorian's mood lifting with every step they took away from the great hall. When the door closed behind them, Dorian barred it. The heavy crossbar had scarce settled into place when he had Tasim crowded up against it, kissing him like it was the last time. All of that smooth, naked skin, pressed up against him, he took Tasim's mouth in a hungry kiss. Tasim wound his arms around Dorian's neck, kissing back with ardency, crying out even as he clung to Dorian. "Dorian, wait." "I don't think I can. I need you -- need to be inside you." Tasim's nod even as he pushed Dorian away was something new. "May we move to the bed, then? Ah! The plug…" "Of course. I'm an idiot." Caught up as he was in the fever of his plan's success and Tasim's nearness, he'd forgotten that Tasim still wore the tail, no doubt pressing uncomfortably into his ass. Dorian pulled Tasim away from the door and tugged him toward the bed, his cock hard and ready. "But, Dorian’s Story - 54

Dorian. What happened? You were demoted, I think? Sent off to who-knows-where. What… what's to become of you? Of me?" Large dark eyes looked up at Dorian, Tasim's normally smooth brow puckered with worry. "Tasim, don't you understand? We're free. Free now to start new lives -- away from here." Dorian smiled and dropped a kiss on Tasim's forehead. Easing Tasim down on the bed, he removed the plug that attached the lush horse-like tail to Tasim's ass. The narrow channel that ran down Tasim's back called to him, begging for his touch. Dorian ran a finger down it, then two, delighting in the supple skin and hard bumps of Tasim's spine. Kneeling over Tasim, Dorian bent low to place kisses on Tasim's back, hands moving naturally to grip Tasim's slim hips. Round and taut, the silky globes of Tasim's ass quivered and Dorian kissed his way down, testing the resiliency of the skin there with his teeth. Tasim groaned, his hips twisting and bucking beneath Dorian. Pushing up to look over one shoulder at Dorian, Tasim's gaze was slitted. "Free how, exactly?" Dorian smiled broadly, finally able to relax a little and savor his victory, for that's exactly what it had been -- a victory as surely as any fought on the battlefield with swords and shields. "His majesty has little concern for aught but the kingdom's security and his own amusements. Knowing his nature, I gambled that he would be eager to be rid of me once I'd called a halt to his games. Where further to Dorian’s Story - 55

send me, yet still secure, than the Norentian mountains? He's really rather predictable, once you come to know him a bit." The lone candle left burning while they'd attended the king's feast flickered from the table next to the bed. The light was weak, but still sufficient to bring out the ruby glints in the small glass jar that rested there. Dorian reached for the jar. Rubbing oil between his hands first, he stroked his cock with one and Tasim's hole with the other, eyes closing briefly with the pleasure of it all. One finger easily slipped inside Tasim, who pushed up onto his knees, offering himself to Dorian in one smooth, graceful motion. What could he possibly have done in the course of his life to have deserved such a treasure as Tasim to fall into his lap? Dorian couldn't hold back any longer. He aligned himself with Tasim's body and thrust eagerly inside. Just like every other time, the sheer pleasure of it took his breath away. Palms slick with oil made hanging on to Tasim's hips tricky, but Dorian managed. Fighting the urge to close his eyes was harder still, but he couldn't stand to miss a moment of Tasim's sleek body pushing sinuously backward to meet Dorian's cock. So good. So wickedly delicious. Dorian’s Story - 56

Dorian folded himself over Tasim's back, surrounding Tasim on every side that he could. He found Tasim's hands and threaded his fingers through Tasim's, rocking forward as Tasim pushed back. How had he lived so long without this? With each thrust, the sensation of two becoming one got closer; became more urgent. Dorian had to do this and only this -- nothing was more important. If he pushed harder, thrust more quickly, he could merge with Tasim into one gloriously satisfied being. Tasim slipped a hand from beneath Dorian's and began working his own cock. The image in Dorian's mind was enough to tip him over the edge, falling into rapturous pleasure as he filled up Tasim's ass with his seed. Collapsing over Tasim's back, Dorian slid to one side, slowly relinquishing his claim on Tasim's body as he slumped sideways. He was still coming back to himself, his senses beginning to reawaken to the world beyond the two of them when Tasim pushed Dorian's legs down enough to straddle him. There, head thrown back, throat exposed, he stroked himself to completion, shooting ribbons of hot spunk all over Dorian's chest and stomach. Eventually Tasim fetched a towel and cleaned them both. After snuffing the candle, they crawled beneath the blankets, exhausted. Replete. "Rest well, little one. Tomorrow we -- ah -- ride." The hitch in Dorian's speech came courtesy of Tasim circling Dorian's nipple with the tip of one finger. Dorian’s Story - 57

"How far away are these mountains?" Tasim's fingers roved to Dorian's as yet untweaked other nipple. "A good two to three days' ride to the base, then another day or so's climb up to the pass." Dorian captured Tasim's hand before it had a chance to move farther south and cause more mischief. It would be a long ride and a good night's rest was only prudent. "Tell me about the barracks. How many others live there? Will we have our own rooms, like here?" "That's right -- you wouldn't know. To name me commander of the barracks at Tulkhana Pass was the king's idea of a joke. The pass was made redundant by the building of the Caragean road during the old king's reign. The outpost there hasn't been manned since I was a boy." "But, then… I don't understand. Why station you there?" "Because the king is a man of very little imagination. He cannot fathom that what is spurned by him might be coveted by another," Dorian explained. "It is far from civilization and thus the king's idea of hell on earth. What he doesn't know, my love, is that I grew up but a day's ride from that mountain. My own father hunted there often; he began taking me with him from the time I was old enough to sit a horse." "Really?" Tasim's voice was filled with wonder, as though he couldn't imagine Dorian as a boy with a father, much as Tasim must have been.

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"Really. Summers there are unequaled. 'Tis a bit cold in the winter, granted, but you'll get used to it. Autumn approaches softly and by the time the first snow falls, you'll be ready for it. The roofs will need new thatching, no doubt, but the houses themselves are solid. I couldn't have picked a better spot for us." "No, no. I meant…" Tasim's hand clasped Dorian's jaw, dragging their faces close until they were nose to nose. "Am I? Your love?" "Of course. That's what this has all been about. The king's jealousy will never abate as long as you're about to remind him. Away from here, though, we'll be forgotten." Dorian rolled until he lay atop Tasim, resting belly to belly, gazes tangling. "It's time for this old soldier to retire to the country. Like I told Ariston, I can think of better things to do with my time." Tasim's wide, answering smile was worth any amount of sacrifice. END If you liked this book you might like: Tasim’s Tale, Devil's Fire, Servant of the Seasons.

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Dorian’s Story Copyright © 2010 by Stephanie Vaughan All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. Printed in the United States of America. ISBN: 978-1-61040-094-7 Torquere Press: Color Box first electronic edition / November 2010 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. http://www.torquerepress.com

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