Bawdy Yarns
The Tale of “O” Part XIII: Riding the Dragon
Pairing: O and various large dildoes Rating: NC17
Warning: Kink (see pairing), bondage.
Summary: O is prepared for his big opening.
Disclaimer: This is totally a work of fiction.
Thank you to Jean.
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~ Here you are, sir, a nice restorative glass of port wine. Let us sit for a few moments out of the market bustle and I will take your mind from your bruised pate. Would you like to know what happened when we left the smithy? Very well. Sip your drink and rest easy and I will continue the tale. ~
Orlando jumped as the door to the Bower banged open. The boy had barely had time to pour water into the basin to begin cleaning up. After the episode in the smithy, he was in dire need of soap and water, but it looked as though he had more pressing duties. He fully expected Lord Bale to storm into his chambers at some point in the evening. However, it was someone else entirely that hurtled through the door to stumble to a stop against His Lordship’s favorite chair. With a sinking heart, Orlando recognized the pretty young man from the smithy yard.
“Good, you’re here,” Captain Jackman said as he stalked in.
“And where else would I be?” Orlando answered.
“In the Casanova Hall with ten inches of our master up your backside,” the captain said.
Cillian edged around the furniture and bolted for the door. The captain caught him easily and flung him into the chair.
“Stay put, boy,” Jackman said. “O, young Cillian is going to be your bedfellow for a while. You can start telling him how His Lordship likes things done.”
Orlando glanced at the wide-eyed peasant boy. “What is he doing here?” he asked.
“Lord Bale fancies him would be my guess,” the captain said.
“Lord Bale is a devil that talks of honor, but he has none of his own,” Orlando burst out and waited for the inevitable reprimand from Jackman.
The captain did not meet Orlando’s eyes as he spoke. “It is not our place to question our master. He does as he wills.”
“He is a liar,” Orlando was emboldened to say. “He promised that this boy would go free if I… if I would pleasure the smith.”
“And did you pleasure the smith, O?” Captain Jackman asked.
Orlando was angrier than he’d ever been in his life, but he forced himself to speak calmly. “The man seemed pleased enough,” he said.
“And you, were you pleased?”
The young man lifted his chin. “Well pleased,” he answered firmly.
The hint of a smile tugged at Jackman’s lips. “The smith is a mighty man,” he said. “I trust his equipment was a match the rest of his physique.”
Orlando stared at the captain as the dour man chuckled softly.
“How it must have galled Viggo to perform for Lord Bale,” Jackman said. “He never took orders well.”
“Lord Bale was right; you know the smith,” Orlando said.
“I knew him,” the captain corrected. “Now do as I said. Find Cillian some suitable clothing from your wardrobe and explain things to him. His Lordship will visit you later.”
“You are a dog of a faithless master,” Orlando said.
For some reason, Captain Jackman’s power to frighten Orlando had vanished like ghosts when the lamp is lit. Putting a hand on Cillian’s shaking shoulder, Orlando stared at the captain and waited for him reply. Without a word, the man turned and walked away.
“Cillian?” Orlando said. “I am Orlando, a captive like you. Would you like to change those wet clothes for some dry ones? Good. Come along; I will not hurt you.”
“I’m not scared,” Cillian said. “I’m just…”
“Confused?” Orlando supplied kindly.
“Mad as hell,” Cillian finished.
“Anger will not avail you here,” Orlando said. “Do you know what a Stoic is?”
Cillian’s frown answered for him and Orlando pulled the other boy toward the closet as he launched into a brief history of the Greek philosophers. It felt so good to be teaching that he almost forgot where he was.
~^~ ~^~ ~^~
The sergeant of Lord Bale’s men-at-arms ordered his remaining troops forward and Sean groaned as Viggo inadvertently kicked him.
“Wake up, you bloody great lump,” the smith hissed. “We are under attack.”
The farrier stirred and looked up at the man standing over him armed with naught but his fists. “How can I help you with me hands tied?” Sean asked.
Viggo grinned, disconcerting the three uniformed soldiers coming cautiously toward him. “Hello, Clive,” he said.
Clive drew his knife across the sergeant’s throat and leaped for the next man. The element of surprise gone, Hugh fired his pistol and winged the soldier who menaced Viggo with his pike. Another man fell with Clive’s dagger in his back and the remaining soldier fled. Hugh calmly loaded another ball and shot the running man between the shoulder blades as Clive knelt beside Sean. As he cut the farrier’s bonds, the highwayman looked up at Viggo. The smith let the soldier he was punching fall to the ground.
“Can I not leave you alone for one hour?” Clive asked solemnly.
“Clive,” Viggo said, his tone sobering the outlaw immediately. “One of these blackguards left here with Cillian across his saddle.”
“Then he’s a dead man,” Clive said, rising to his feet and pulling Sean with him. “Do I speak the truth, brothers?”
“Aye,” Sean growled. “Dead men, the lot of ‘em.”
Hugh nodded. “Dead as dreams.”
“Agreed,” Viggo said. “However, we are not going to ride off half-cocked and… what are you smirking at, Hugh?”
“Nothing, Viggo,” Hugh said contritely
“Good, for there is naught to smile about in this,” Viggo said grimly. “Will you be guided by me? Very well. Strip those soldiers.”
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“And always remember,” Orlando told Cillian, as they reached the end of the hall. “It is only your body that is defiled. They cannot touch your soul.”
Cillian nodded. He had certainly felt defiled by the visit from the oily Dr. Weaving and his assistant. At least the cream that had been inserted into his bumhole had warmed to body temperature now.
The doors to the Casanova Hall opened and Colin grinned at Orlando. “Miss me, darlin’?” the man asked.
Orlando’s heart skipped a beat before he composed himself. “Indeed I did,” he answered. “I missed you the way one misses the stomach flux.”
Cillian laughed and Colin’s eyes narrowed in anger.
“Get in here, the both of yez,” the Irishman said. “We’ll soon sort you out, Karl and I.”
Karl was standing just inside the large chamber, stripped to the waist. The Greek’s black eyes gleamed when he saw Orlando and Orlando’s companion.
“Two boys,” Karl said, grinning whitely.
“Aye, Karl me lad,” Colin answered. “Tis time to break in a new mount.”
“Colin, you are irrepressible,” Lord Bale said as he came forward. “Take young Cillian to the stocks and make him less comfortable. Help Colin, Karl.”
Cillian sprang away from Orlando and dodged Colin’s grab for his arm. The young outlaw led the servants a brief but merry chase before he was cornered. Thrashing and cursing, Cillian was dragged to the other end of the room.
“Well, O,” Lord Bale said. “We come to it at last.”
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“Where is the doctor?” Captain Jackman asked.
Keanu kept his eyes on the toes of the captain’s boots. “I will be serving the master this evening,” the beautiful Eurasian said.
“Then get your gear and let us be off,” Jackman said, observing the other man’s backside as Keanu bent to pick up a cloth-covered tray. “I hope you may serve me this evening as well.”
“That would be pleasant,” Keanu said, glancing sidewise at the captain.
Jackman grabbed a handful of the alluring ass and squeezed. “You still keep fit, boy,” he approved.
“Not all your lessons were evil,” Keanu murmured. “Come. Our master does not like to wait.”
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Viggo opened the ironbound chest and pulled back the cloth padding. Clive smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder.
“This should even the odds somewhat,” the highwayman said, reaching for one of the shiny new flintlock pistols.
The smith showed the other three men the mechanism that allowed them to load and fire more quickly. It was Viggo’s own design and he was justly proud, but he’d hoped to show them at the fair rather than test them in battle. He was beginning to wonder if it were worth the trouble to make plans at all.
“Viggo?” Sean shook his master’s shoulder.
“Aye,” Viggo said, thrusting the pistol into his belt. “You will find shot and powder in the cabinet there. Take as much you can carry, lads.”
The three men went outside to where Hugh waited with the horses. Giving Hugh his new pistols and a supply of shot and powder, the small rescue party mounted up.
“Are we ready, brothers?” Clive asked softly.
“I’ve made my peace with the Old Gods,” Hugh said solemnly.
“As long as that Spaniard was telling the truth, we have a good chance at getting in there and back out alive,” Clive assured his comrade.
“I would not be going otherwise,” Viggo said.
Sean snorted his opinion of the smith’s veracity and kicked his horse to a trot. Clive followed, his cloak streaming out in the wind. Viggo glanced over at Hugh and raised a golden eyebrow. Hugh shrugged.
“I never wanted to live forever anyway,” he said and took off after Clive and Sean.
Viggo held back on the reins as his restive gelding tried to bolt. His plan could work; he only hoped that this night would end with none of his friends dead. The face of Lord Bale’s boy intruded on the smith’s bleak thoughts. While they were freeing Cillian, they might just as well open the doors of a few other cages, he thought. With a whoop, Viggo gave his horse its head and galloped after the others.
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Orlando had never seen a contraption like the one in which he hung suspended. The only thing it resembled was a net, a net made of leather straps woven together at intervals of a handspan. Lord Bale called it a hammock, but Orlando was not familiar with the word and thought of it as a sling. The sling hung from the ceiling by four chains of polished silver. Orlando’s wrists were shackled to two of the chains and his knees were lashed to the other two, held open with ropes of black silk. His bare feet dangled above the carpet, a diamond studded anklet catching the light from the many lamps. Before placing Orlando in the sling, Keanu had removed all the boy’s clothing except for the anklet and the new collar. After fastening the cuffs, the doctor’s assistant turned to Lord Bale who lounged on a divan with a superb view. His Lordship swallowed a mouthful of excellent wine and nodded to Keanu.
“You may continue,” Christian Bale said. “See that you stretch him well. Your stitches are not so fine as Dr. Weaving’s.”
“And your honor is not so fine as you would like to believe,” Orlando said clearly.
Lord Bale sat forward. “You find fault with my conduct?” he asked happily.
“You broke your word.”
“Did I give you my word?” the nobleman said. “How unlike me to give my word to a slave.”
“And to the smith,” Orlando reminded.
“Yes, you’re right. I suppose it’s just as well I had him killed.”
Chains rattled as Orlando yanked at his bonds in sudden anger. “Bastard!” he shouted.
“First you impugn my honor and now my mother’s,” Lord Bale drawled. “I could forgive the slight to myself, but my mother’s memory is sacrosanct. I am afraid I shall have to punish you, my beauty.”
Cillian’s shout of outrage echoed off the ceiling at the other end of the chamber and Orlando cursed Lord Bale again.
“Colin!” His Lordship called out. “Whatever are you doing to make that boy so noisy?”
“Naught, m’lord,” Colin answered instantly. “Strippin’ and strappin’ down as your lordship ordered. Mayhap Karl’s hand strayed a bit near the lad’s jewels.”
“That cannot be helped,” Lord Bale said. “However, if you do not curb yourselves until I can supervise you, I shall find someone else to gentle our new mount.”
“Aye, m’lord,” Colin answered.
“Does that content you, O?” His Lordship asked.
“You sicken me.”
“And you hate me.”
“Yes,” Orlando hissed.
”Then what have I to lose? Keanu, proceed.”
The assistant bowed, replenishing the nobleman’s glass from the decanter on the tray, before continuing the preparation. Keanu added more sweet-smelling lubricant to Orlando’s sheath before choosing a dildo. Picking up a slender ivory rod with a ball the size of a grape at one end, Keanu pressed the phallus to Orlando’s opening.
“That one was your favorite, was it not, Keanu?” Lord Bale asked, as the dildo eased into Orlando’s passage. “This must be arousing for you. When Captain Jackman returns, he will top you, if you wish it.”
“My master is generous,” Keanu said softly.
Orlando moved restlessly as Keanu spun the slim rod while thrusting delicately. The smooth knob rubbed back and forth across the boy’s pleasure gland, stimulating him as his sheath was stretched. Telling himself he could easily endure this, Orlando relaxed.
“Enough of that one,” Lord Bale said, gulping more wine. “The smith gave you a head start; move on to a larger phallus.”
“My master is eager,” the assistant said as he reached for another implement.
Orlando grunted as the tip of a lifelike dildo carved from mahogany entered his port. The smooth helmet shaped head widened the route, distending the walls of the boy’s passage with unyielding hardness. Keanu shifted the large dildo minutely and Orlando moaned.
“Excellent,” Lord Bale said. “Give him a bit more.”
Keanu eased the thick phallus into Orlando in small increments as His Lordship salivated over each fraction of an inch. When the long rod was sheathed, Keanu left it there while he offered his master another libation. Gazing at the big false cock that filled Orlando, Lord Bale tossed back the contents of his glass and held it out for more. The nobleman poured some of the wine on the Orlando’s chest and leaned over to lick the fluid from the boy’s nipple. Orlando groaned at the gentle stimulation as his sheath muscles clamped down on the thick wooden cock.
“Good boy,” Lord Bale said as the phallus started to slide from the boy’s passage. “Soon I will know the pleasure of taking you as you were meant to be taken.”
Orlando groaned and twisted in his bonds as the nobleman teased his nipples while tapping the end of the embedded dildo in a regular rhythm. This was a new game, but Orlando was now used to this sort of erotic torture. Lord Bale smiled as the young man’s body softened under his hands. It was always thus with O: the initial stiffness of resistance melting gradually to languid wantonness. The nobleman knew that he could search for the rest of his life and never find a boy to match this one. The taking of O would be the pinnacle of Christian Bale’s sexual career and he did not want to rush through the experience.
“Remove that,” Lord Bale said a trifle breathlessly, pointing to the dildo.
Keanu did as ordered, carefully sliding the polished mahogany from the captive’s port. Orlando’s thighs trembled as His Lordship stroked their soft inner surfaces, avidly watching the big phallus emerge from the young man’s opening. The dildo was impressive, but still only as long and thick as an average man. Keanu knew more would be needed to prepare O for Lord Bale and the assistant reached for the Dragon. The carved length of milky jade had come all the way from Cathay in a locked box of black lacquer. Nine inches long, with the circumference of a pistol butt, the pale green phallus was incised with flowing, swirling patterns over most of its smooth surface. The tip was the size and shape of a hen’s egg and the handle at the other end was carved in the likeness of a dragon’s claw. Keanu held the beautiful battering ram up to the light and Orlando gasped.
“Do I finally have your attention, my beauty?” Lord Bale asked lightly.
Orlando did not waste time or words on entreaties or expressions of disbelief. He let out the breath he was holding and consciously willed his muscles to relax.
“This will be cold at first,” Keanu told Orlando. “You will not believe that your sheath can stretch so far, but I know it can. I am very skilled and I will use care. I have no wish to harm you. Do believe me?”
Orlando opened his mouth, but his tongue was too dry to for him to speak. Lord Bale noticed the boy’s difficulty and reached for the decanter of wine.
“Master,” Keanu said softly. “Dr. Weaving has given O a mild stimulant to make his skin more sensitive. You may do as you will of course, but it would not be good for O to have alcohol while the drug is in his system.”
“Drugged!” Lord Bale’s eyes flashed. “The doctor knows I abhor drugs. Captain! Captain Jackman! Damn it all, where is the man?”
Keanu flinched when the nobleman’s eye fell on him.
“Why do you stand idle?” His Lordship asked sharply.
Gently, the assistant pressed the tip of the jade dildo to Orlando’s opening and applied steady pressure. Orlando wrapped his fingers tightly around the chains and set himself to endure as the smooth knob entered him. The Dragon was by far the largest object Orlando had been made to accept into his sheath, excluding the tip of His Lordship’s manhood.
“By all that’s unholy, that’s a sight to stir the blood,” Lord Bale breathed as he reached for the decanter again.
Orlando’s knuckles were white with the force of his grip as the long phallus forced its way into his passage. By the time a quarter of the thick dildo was sheathed, the boy was panting and covered with a sheen of sweat. Lord Bale put down the empty wine carafe and trailed his fingertips from the insides of Orlando’s knees up to the juncture of his thighs.
The nobleman grasped Orlando’s cock and stroked it firmly. “Give him a taste,” Lord Bale told Keanu.
Keanu waggled the length of jade and a sob broke from Orlando’s lips. The boy’s thighs quivered and his shaft hardened in Lord Bale’s hand as his prostate was stimulated.
“That’s my beauty,” Christian Bale said. “You will take it all like the good, greedy little animal you are and you will beg for more. When you do, be assured I will give it to you.”
His Lordship nodded to Keanu and the assistant thrust delicately, barely shifting the dildo in Orlando’s sheath. Orlando cried out and the chains rattled as he sought futilely to escape further impaling. Lord Bale’s tongue flicked over his lips and his hand went to the waistband of his pants. The nobleman looked up angrily when three men-at-arms burst into the Casanova Hall. Rage turned to shock when the soldiers raised weapons and trained them on His Lordship.
“Hurt that boy again and I fire without warning,” said the leader.
Lord Bale recognized the smith in his stolen uniform and an odd smile quirked his lips.
“Well this should prove interesting,” the nobleman said.
~ Oh dear, here is the publican to remind us it is time to order another drink or move on. No indeed, sir, you will not carry all of this. I did the marketing well enough before you arrived to stir old memories. How gallant of you, sir, and I suppose it was not that long ago at all, but it was another life. Come, you may walk me home along the river path and perhaps we will have time for the story of my rescue before we arrive. ~
tbc
Pairing: O and various large dildoes Rating: NC17
Warning: Kink (see pairing), bondage.
Summary: O is prepared for his big opening.
Disclaimer: This is totally a work of fiction.
Thank you to Jean.
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~ Here you are, sir, a nice restorative glass of port wine. Let us sit for a few moments out of the market bustle and I will take your mind from your bruised pate. Would you like to know what happened when we left the smithy? Very well. Sip your drink and rest easy and I will continue the tale. ~
Orlando jumped as the door to the Bower banged open. The boy had barely had time to pour water into the basin to begin cleaning up. After the episode in the smithy, he was in dire need of soap and water, but it looked as though he had more pressing duties. He fully expected Lord Bale to storm into his chambers at some point in the evening. However, it was someone else entirely that hurtled through the door to stumble to a stop against His Lordship’s favorite chair. With a sinking heart, Orlando recognized the pretty young man from the smithy yard.
“Good, you’re here,” Captain Jackman said as he stalked in.
“And where else would I be?” Orlando answered.
“In the Casanova Hall with ten inches of our master up your backside,” the captain said.
Cillian edged around the furniture and bolted for the door. The captain caught him easily and flung him into the chair.
“Stay put, boy,” Jackman said. “O, young Cillian is going to be your bedfellow for a while. You can start telling him how His Lordship likes things done.”
Orlando glanced at the wide-eyed peasant boy. “What is he doing here?” he asked.
“Lord Bale fancies him would be my guess,” the captain said.
“Lord Bale is a devil that talks of honor, but he has none of his own,” Orlando burst out and waited for the inevitable reprimand from Jackman.
The captain did not meet Orlando’s eyes as he spoke. “It is not our place to question our master. He does as he wills.”
“He is a liar,” Orlando was emboldened to say. “He promised that this boy would go free if I… if I would pleasure the smith.”
“And did you pleasure the smith, O?” Captain Jackman asked.
Orlando was angrier than he’d ever been in his life, but he forced himself to speak calmly. “The man seemed pleased enough,” he said.
“And you, were you pleased?”
The young man lifted his chin. “Well pleased,” he answered firmly.
The hint of a smile tugged at Jackman’s lips. “The smith is a mighty man,” he said. “I trust his equipment was a match the rest of his physique.”
Orlando stared at the captain as the dour man chuckled softly.
“How it must have galled Viggo to perform for Lord Bale,” Jackman said. “He never took orders well.”
“Lord Bale was right; you know the smith,” Orlando said.
“I knew him,” the captain corrected. “Now do as I said. Find Cillian some suitable clothing from your wardrobe and explain things to him. His Lordship will visit you later.”
“You are a dog of a faithless master,” Orlando said.
For some reason, Captain Jackman’s power to frighten Orlando had vanished like ghosts when the lamp is lit. Putting a hand on Cillian’s shaking shoulder, Orlando stared at the captain and waited for him reply. Without a word, the man turned and walked away.
“Cillian?” Orlando said. “I am Orlando, a captive like you. Would you like to change those wet clothes for some dry ones? Good. Come along; I will not hurt you.”
“I’m not scared,” Cillian said. “I’m just…”
“Confused?” Orlando supplied kindly.
“Mad as hell,” Cillian finished.
“Anger will not avail you here,” Orlando said. “Do you know what a Stoic is?”
Cillian’s frown answered for him and Orlando pulled the other boy toward the closet as he launched into a brief history of the Greek philosophers. It felt so good to be teaching that he almost forgot where he was.
~^~ ~^~ ~^~
The sergeant of Lord Bale’s men-at-arms ordered his remaining troops forward and Sean groaned as Viggo inadvertently kicked him.
“Wake up, you bloody great lump,” the smith hissed. “We are under attack.”
The farrier stirred and looked up at the man standing over him armed with naught but his fists. “How can I help you with me hands tied?” Sean asked.
Viggo grinned, disconcerting the three uniformed soldiers coming cautiously toward him. “Hello, Clive,” he said.
Clive drew his knife across the sergeant’s throat and leaped for the next man. The element of surprise gone, Hugh fired his pistol and winged the soldier who menaced Viggo with his pike. Another man fell with Clive’s dagger in his back and the remaining soldier fled. Hugh calmly loaded another ball and shot the running man between the shoulder blades as Clive knelt beside Sean. As he cut the farrier’s bonds, the highwayman looked up at Viggo. The smith let the soldier he was punching fall to the ground.
“Can I not leave you alone for one hour?” Clive asked solemnly.
“Clive,” Viggo said, his tone sobering the outlaw immediately. “One of these blackguards left here with Cillian across his saddle.”
“Then he’s a dead man,” Clive said, rising to his feet and pulling Sean with him. “Do I speak the truth, brothers?”
“Aye,” Sean growled. “Dead men, the lot of ‘em.”
Hugh nodded. “Dead as dreams.”
“Agreed,” Viggo said. “However, we are not going to ride off half-cocked and… what are you smirking at, Hugh?”
“Nothing, Viggo,” Hugh said contritely
“Good, for there is naught to smile about in this,” Viggo said grimly. “Will you be guided by me? Very well. Strip those soldiers.”
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“And always remember,” Orlando told Cillian, as they reached the end of the hall. “It is only your body that is defiled. They cannot touch your soul.”
Cillian nodded. He had certainly felt defiled by the visit from the oily Dr. Weaving and his assistant. At least the cream that had been inserted into his bumhole had warmed to body temperature now.
The doors to the Casanova Hall opened and Colin grinned at Orlando. “Miss me, darlin’?” the man asked.
Orlando’s heart skipped a beat before he composed himself. “Indeed I did,” he answered. “I missed you the way one misses the stomach flux.”
Cillian laughed and Colin’s eyes narrowed in anger.
“Get in here, the both of yez,” the Irishman said. “We’ll soon sort you out, Karl and I.”
Karl was standing just inside the large chamber, stripped to the waist. The Greek’s black eyes gleamed when he saw Orlando and Orlando’s companion.
“Two boys,” Karl said, grinning whitely.
“Aye, Karl me lad,” Colin answered. “Tis time to break in a new mount.”
“Colin, you are irrepressible,” Lord Bale said as he came forward. “Take young Cillian to the stocks and make him less comfortable. Help Colin, Karl.”
Cillian sprang away from Orlando and dodged Colin’s grab for his arm. The young outlaw led the servants a brief but merry chase before he was cornered. Thrashing and cursing, Cillian was dragged to the other end of the room.
“Well, O,” Lord Bale said. “We come to it at last.”
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“Where is the doctor?” Captain Jackman asked.
Keanu kept his eyes on the toes of the captain’s boots. “I will be serving the master this evening,” the beautiful Eurasian said.
“Then get your gear and let us be off,” Jackman said, observing the other man’s backside as Keanu bent to pick up a cloth-covered tray. “I hope you may serve me this evening as well.”
“That would be pleasant,” Keanu said, glancing sidewise at the captain.
Jackman grabbed a handful of the alluring ass and squeezed. “You still keep fit, boy,” he approved.
“Not all your lessons were evil,” Keanu murmured. “Come. Our master does not like to wait.”
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Viggo opened the ironbound chest and pulled back the cloth padding. Clive smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder.
“This should even the odds somewhat,” the highwayman said, reaching for one of the shiny new flintlock pistols.
The smith showed the other three men the mechanism that allowed them to load and fire more quickly. It was Viggo’s own design and he was justly proud, but he’d hoped to show them at the fair rather than test them in battle. He was beginning to wonder if it were worth the trouble to make plans at all.
“Viggo?” Sean shook his master’s shoulder.
“Aye,” Viggo said, thrusting the pistol into his belt. “You will find shot and powder in the cabinet there. Take as much you can carry, lads.”
The three men went outside to where Hugh waited with the horses. Giving Hugh his new pistols and a supply of shot and powder, the small rescue party mounted up.
“Are we ready, brothers?” Clive asked softly.
“I’ve made my peace with the Old Gods,” Hugh said solemnly.
“As long as that Spaniard was telling the truth, we have a good chance at getting in there and back out alive,” Clive assured his comrade.
“I would not be going otherwise,” Viggo said.
Sean snorted his opinion of the smith’s veracity and kicked his horse to a trot. Clive followed, his cloak streaming out in the wind. Viggo glanced over at Hugh and raised a golden eyebrow. Hugh shrugged.
“I never wanted to live forever anyway,” he said and took off after Clive and Sean.
Viggo held back on the reins as his restive gelding tried to bolt. His plan could work; he only hoped that this night would end with none of his friends dead. The face of Lord Bale’s boy intruded on the smith’s bleak thoughts. While they were freeing Cillian, they might just as well open the doors of a few other cages, he thought. With a whoop, Viggo gave his horse its head and galloped after the others.
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Orlando had never seen a contraption like the one in which he hung suspended. The only thing it resembled was a net, a net made of leather straps woven together at intervals of a handspan. Lord Bale called it a hammock, but Orlando was not familiar with the word and thought of it as a sling. The sling hung from the ceiling by four chains of polished silver. Orlando’s wrists were shackled to two of the chains and his knees were lashed to the other two, held open with ropes of black silk. His bare feet dangled above the carpet, a diamond studded anklet catching the light from the many lamps. Before placing Orlando in the sling, Keanu had removed all the boy’s clothing except for the anklet and the new collar. After fastening the cuffs, the doctor’s assistant turned to Lord Bale who lounged on a divan with a superb view. His Lordship swallowed a mouthful of excellent wine and nodded to Keanu.
“You may continue,” Christian Bale said. “See that you stretch him well. Your stitches are not so fine as Dr. Weaving’s.”
“And your honor is not so fine as you would like to believe,” Orlando said clearly.
Lord Bale sat forward. “You find fault with my conduct?” he asked happily.
“You broke your word.”
“Did I give you my word?” the nobleman said. “How unlike me to give my word to a slave.”
“And to the smith,” Orlando reminded.
“Yes, you’re right. I suppose it’s just as well I had him killed.”
Chains rattled as Orlando yanked at his bonds in sudden anger. “Bastard!” he shouted.
“First you impugn my honor and now my mother’s,” Lord Bale drawled. “I could forgive the slight to myself, but my mother’s memory is sacrosanct. I am afraid I shall have to punish you, my beauty.”
Cillian’s shout of outrage echoed off the ceiling at the other end of the chamber and Orlando cursed Lord Bale again.
“Colin!” His Lordship called out. “Whatever are you doing to make that boy so noisy?”
“Naught, m’lord,” Colin answered instantly. “Strippin’ and strappin’ down as your lordship ordered. Mayhap Karl’s hand strayed a bit near the lad’s jewels.”
“That cannot be helped,” Lord Bale said. “However, if you do not curb yourselves until I can supervise you, I shall find someone else to gentle our new mount.”
“Aye, m’lord,” Colin answered.
“Does that content you, O?” His Lordship asked.
“You sicken me.”
“And you hate me.”
“Yes,” Orlando hissed.
”Then what have I to lose? Keanu, proceed.”
The assistant bowed, replenishing the nobleman’s glass from the decanter on the tray, before continuing the preparation. Keanu added more sweet-smelling lubricant to Orlando’s sheath before choosing a dildo. Picking up a slender ivory rod with a ball the size of a grape at one end, Keanu pressed the phallus to Orlando’s opening.
“That one was your favorite, was it not, Keanu?” Lord Bale asked, as the dildo eased into Orlando’s passage. “This must be arousing for you. When Captain Jackman returns, he will top you, if you wish it.”
“My master is generous,” Keanu said softly.
Orlando moved restlessly as Keanu spun the slim rod while thrusting delicately. The smooth knob rubbed back and forth across the boy’s pleasure gland, stimulating him as his sheath was stretched. Telling himself he could easily endure this, Orlando relaxed.
“Enough of that one,” Lord Bale said, gulping more wine. “The smith gave you a head start; move on to a larger phallus.”
“My master is eager,” the assistant said as he reached for another implement.
Orlando grunted as the tip of a lifelike dildo carved from mahogany entered his port. The smooth helmet shaped head widened the route, distending the walls of the boy’s passage with unyielding hardness. Keanu shifted the large dildo minutely and Orlando moaned.
“Excellent,” Lord Bale said. “Give him a bit more.”
Keanu eased the thick phallus into Orlando in small increments as His Lordship salivated over each fraction of an inch. When the long rod was sheathed, Keanu left it there while he offered his master another libation. Gazing at the big false cock that filled Orlando, Lord Bale tossed back the contents of his glass and held it out for more. The nobleman poured some of the wine on the Orlando’s chest and leaned over to lick the fluid from the boy’s nipple. Orlando groaned at the gentle stimulation as his sheath muscles clamped down on the thick wooden cock.
“Good boy,” Lord Bale said as the phallus started to slide from the boy’s passage. “Soon I will know the pleasure of taking you as you were meant to be taken.”
Orlando groaned and twisted in his bonds as the nobleman teased his nipples while tapping the end of the embedded dildo in a regular rhythm. This was a new game, but Orlando was now used to this sort of erotic torture. Lord Bale smiled as the young man’s body softened under his hands. It was always thus with O: the initial stiffness of resistance melting gradually to languid wantonness. The nobleman knew that he could search for the rest of his life and never find a boy to match this one. The taking of O would be the pinnacle of Christian Bale’s sexual career and he did not want to rush through the experience.
“Remove that,” Lord Bale said a trifle breathlessly, pointing to the dildo.
Keanu did as ordered, carefully sliding the polished mahogany from the captive’s port. Orlando’s thighs trembled as His Lordship stroked their soft inner surfaces, avidly watching the big phallus emerge from the young man’s opening. The dildo was impressive, but still only as long and thick as an average man. Keanu knew more would be needed to prepare O for Lord Bale and the assistant reached for the Dragon. The carved length of milky jade had come all the way from Cathay in a locked box of black lacquer. Nine inches long, with the circumference of a pistol butt, the pale green phallus was incised with flowing, swirling patterns over most of its smooth surface. The tip was the size and shape of a hen’s egg and the handle at the other end was carved in the likeness of a dragon’s claw. Keanu held the beautiful battering ram up to the light and Orlando gasped.
“Do I finally have your attention, my beauty?” Lord Bale asked lightly.
Orlando did not waste time or words on entreaties or expressions of disbelief. He let out the breath he was holding and consciously willed his muscles to relax.
“This will be cold at first,” Keanu told Orlando. “You will not believe that your sheath can stretch so far, but I know it can. I am very skilled and I will use care. I have no wish to harm you. Do believe me?”
Orlando opened his mouth, but his tongue was too dry to for him to speak. Lord Bale noticed the boy’s difficulty and reached for the decanter of wine.
“Master,” Keanu said softly. “Dr. Weaving has given O a mild stimulant to make his skin more sensitive. You may do as you will of course, but it would not be good for O to have alcohol while the drug is in his system.”
“Drugged!” Lord Bale’s eyes flashed. “The doctor knows I abhor drugs. Captain! Captain Jackman! Damn it all, where is the man?”
Keanu flinched when the nobleman’s eye fell on him.
“Why do you stand idle?” His Lordship asked sharply.
Gently, the assistant pressed the tip of the jade dildo to Orlando’s opening and applied steady pressure. Orlando wrapped his fingers tightly around the chains and set himself to endure as the smooth knob entered him. The Dragon was by far the largest object Orlando had been made to accept into his sheath, excluding the tip of His Lordship’s manhood.
“By all that’s unholy, that’s a sight to stir the blood,” Lord Bale breathed as he reached for the decanter again.
Orlando’s knuckles were white with the force of his grip as the long phallus forced its way into his passage. By the time a quarter of the thick dildo was sheathed, the boy was panting and covered with a sheen of sweat. Lord Bale put down the empty wine carafe and trailed his fingertips from the insides of Orlando’s knees up to the juncture of his thighs.
The nobleman grasped Orlando’s cock and stroked it firmly. “Give him a taste,” Lord Bale told Keanu.
Keanu waggled the length of jade and a sob broke from Orlando’s lips. The boy’s thighs quivered and his shaft hardened in Lord Bale’s hand as his prostate was stimulated.
“That’s my beauty,” Christian Bale said. “You will take it all like the good, greedy little animal you are and you will beg for more. When you do, be assured I will give it to you.”
His Lordship nodded to Keanu and the assistant thrust delicately, barely shifting the dildo in Orlando’s sheath. Orlando cried out and the chains rattled as he sought futilely to escape further impaling. Lord Bale’s tongue flicked over his lips and his hand went to the waistband of his pants. The nobleman looked up angrily when three men-at-arms burst into the Casanova Hall. Rage turned to shock when the soldiers raised weapons and trained them on His Lordship.
“Hurt that boy again and I fire without warning,” said the leader.
Lord Bale recognized the smith in his stolen uniform and an odd smile quirked his lips.
“Well this should prove interesting,” the nobleman said.
~ Oh dear, here is the publican to remind us it is time to order another drink or move on. No indeed, sir, you will not carry all of this. I did the marketing well enough before you arrived to stir old memories. How gallant of you, sir, and I suppose it was not that long ago at all, but it was another life. Come, you may walk me home along the river path and perhaps we will have time for the story of my rescue before we arrive. ~
tbc