No answer came, none at all. I shouted like a banshee, fit to waken the dead. And if you still wonder at my fear at being left alone in this house at night, I cannot convince you the further.
A creak came from the bookcase. I watched wide-eyed as it swung open. “Oliver!” I said in gladness as I saw a hand reach around to grasp the edge of the bookcase. Oliver had found a secret passage, he had gone exploring and now returned to me! So I thought then, you know as you read this that this answer was false.
I learned my error when the face peered around the edge of the case. A large, wild-looking face, with long black hair and beard. “I have found you.” came his almost mischievous response as his eyes locked with my wide-open ones, leer meets fear.
“Leave me alone.” I said. “You won’t possess me again. Oliver! Oliver!” I called out. And as I called out, I clambered from the bed as the green-coated form approached me.
Lord Harold wore a white shirt, pale brown buskins, buckle-topped shoes, white hose. A proper dress for a gentleman...of three hundred years ago! His body was large and brawny, a powerful machine, with large hands that clenched and reached for me.
I was clad only in my nightshirt, bare-footed, bare but for this single garment, I felt more than naked to him. There was no place for me to run, only the corner with the fireplace was mine. If I could dart across the bed, perhaps, the door could be reached.
I tried, I truly did. I jumped onto the bed, the curtains slapping my face, my foot trod upon them and upon my nightshirt’s hem, and I fell backwards, and onto the floor. I struggled up to my feet, but then Lord Harold was upon me, his hands locked about my arms like iron bands, he had caught me, and I could not move without his willing so.
“What manner of greeting is this for your elders, boy?” Lord Harold said. “Can’t an uncle come to his nephew’s room of a night without such a struggle? You did not resist me this afternoon in the garden in this manner. Why do you struggle with me now?”
Even in my fear, or perhaps because of it, I realized that Lord Harold did not see me this time. He thought he was reaching for Lord Vincent.
I decided to play as if I were Lord Vincent, who was my own direct ancestor after all, if he had been in this position. “I beg you, my Lord, do not touch me this night.” I said as well as I could, striving for the language I had heard from the lips of my ghostly forebear. “I have a visitor in my bed this night, whom I expect shortly, he will sleep with me. We can make other times to be together, but not this night, I pray.”
“Pah!” He said to me. “You who clung to me like a mewling kitten as I plunged into your bowels this forenoon, now you spurn me? Did you not beg the night to come the sooner when I said that I would return to you now?”
Had Lord Vincent truly been so enamored of this man? If so, it was the worse for me. “It is that we are of a kin, that my modesty now makes itself known.” I said.
“We are but half-uncle and half-nephew.” He proclaimed. “Less blood than in many a marriage of first cousins. And you shall be spending many more days with me in this house, you and I shall share this estate as you promised me, so that you may continue your studies while I handle the lands as your steward.” His tone became wheedling. “Come now, let me see again that smiling face as my rod enters you, let me see that gladness as I thrust in and out of you, give yourself to me, I say, or it will go harder with you when I do!” This last he turned in the space of a half dozen words from gentleness to peremptory rage and he thrust me down upon the bed.
I landed upon my buttocks, and I rolled, planning to scramble on all fours across the bed and out the other side, but he had hold of me before I could do more than turn.
I felt rather than heard the thin flannel of the nightshirt ripping. It tore beneath his hands which seemed to be tipped with razor-sharp nails...and perhaps they were, what manner of beast was he now, this distant ancestor of mine?...and my lower body bared itself to him.
Whimpering, I tore it more myself as I tried to crawl away, but then his hands, so cold his hands, gripped my thighs and held me in place.
“Here, now, this isn’t the jolly lover of the sunlight.” He said, the tone wheedling even though his hands continued rough. I was being pulled backwards on the bed, a part of me must have surrendered entirely, for when my feet dangled off the edge on either side of him and he released me briefly, I only stayed as I was, listening to the clinking sound of his buttons as he hitched at his trousers, opening them.
All of a sudden he held me down and forced my head into the bedsheet bunched up beneath me, so hard I could not breathe. He held me like that and hunched against me. "Damn me, boy, you’re such a tease, acting unwilling, and this ass of yours is twitching, it wants me inside it so badly. ‘Tis many a man’s rod you’ve taken in this bum of yours, and don’t try to tell me any the different, for I have eyes as well as any. I’d intended to take your maidenhead gently, but I see now that would be a waste of my time, for the head is gone and has been for many a year.”
I became scared, I elbowed him in the ribs and he lost his grip on me. I quickly tried to crawl to the other side of the bed, but he got a hold on my ankle and in one mighty tug he pulled me back into him again, and his long, hard, thick pole was uncomfortably pressing itself into my crack. He held me close to him, one arm around my waist and the other around my throat. I tried with all my strength to get free of him, but he was too strong. He started licking my ear then he bit it hard and I moaned and struggled, trying to get away from those teeth that hurt me, God, it hurt so much! Then, annoyed with my struggles, he whispered in my ear "Listen to me, my nephew and ward. You have no right to fight me off, you're mine and I can do whatever I want with you. And right now I want to feel this warm bum about my pud, and I’ll have that and there is nothing you can do about it. So quit your squirming like an orphaned calf, or I'll whip you, and then fuck you. But either way you get fucked this night. It’s your choice, my young one, but make the choice fast, because I shall not wait the longer.”
I nodded mutely, all my fight gone from me, and he released his arm from around my neck and I gulped in air while he ran a proprietary hand over my ass, muttering that he owned this fine, tight ass, it was all his. I felt so humiliated, there I was on all fours on the bed with my butt sticking out as stood over the bed between my legs running his hand over my butt.
“Now, my young Vincent, you have another choice. I'm going to push my cock into your ass. But it can either go in dry or it can go in all slicked up with your spit. Which is it going to be? Will you give it the treatment you did in the garden this afternoon? Or shall I run it into you dry as it is now.”
“No!” I said. “No, please! I’ll suck it for you! Please!”
“Then get to licking on it.” he said. “I’ll let you tell me when you have it wet enough.”
I ran my tongue over his hard cock just like it had been a rod of peppermint candy. His cock didn't taste sweet, but it didn't taste that bad, either. It was clean, it tasted only of a sort of funk, and a salty smell which came from that gleaming clear pearl on the tip. I hesitantly touched my tongue to it and it came away in a thick string, connecting my tongue to his cockhead.
“Suck that cord in, my boy!” Lord Harold ordered, and I did so, slurping it up. "Now get to really bobbing on that cockhead. Take it all the way down your throat, or I'll shove it down there.”
I tried, I really did, but it was too big. I felt as if my throat were constricted shut, but I couldn’t do what he wanted; I gagged, tried again, backed off, and he got impatient and grabbed my head and did what he said he'd do, he shoved it deep into me. I choked, but that didn't matter to him, he pushed it inside me and I gagged, nearly threw up, but managed to hold on until he pulled out. As he did, a thick sheath of my throat mucous came with it, clinging to it in a thick gray slimy mass.
“That'll do it, boy. Now turn around and kneel back on that mattress. Get that head down and get that butt up!" I obeyed him, closed my eyes and begged the heavens to not let this happen.
Then I felt it... I felt him push what had to be the head of his massive penis. The head was so fat, so big...too big!!!.
I tried to scream but at my first sound, his hand pushed my head into the mattress, which smothered the sound I made. With me quieted, with no thought to my pain, he steadily pushed his whole length inside me, and my asshole started to burn with the pain. He pushed into me and into me until I thought it would never end, but finally his two fat balls touched below my buttocks and his pubic hair rubbed me like coarse wool. He kept my head shoved into the mattress with his hand and he placed his other arm around my stomach to rise me and pull me closer. Then he slowly started to pull out the tip so almost out of me, then he quickly shoved his full length back in me with full force and I yelled again at this new invasion. He kept it up, pulling out and plunging into me, all the time going faster and making shorter strokes, not pulling completely out, until finally he was bobbing against me hard with rapid motions. My poor bunghole really was on fire now. And what made it worse was the way it felt like his dick kept on getting bigger and harder.
He was so rough as he fucked my butt, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. The sound of his huge, low-hanging balls slapping my ass was so loud I thought it could be heard through the whole house.
“That’s the way, boy, that’s the way you do it.” Lord Harold panted as he fucked into me. He squirmed around and got entirely on the bed, and then his hand, his big, hairy, rough hand, grasped a handful of the hair on my head and pulled back on it, hard, and I groaned, grimaced, clenched my teeth and smothered the yell that begged to come out of me.
Lord Harold made long, growling sounds like any manner of beasts as he hunched and pummeled my ass brutally. How could Lord Vincent, how could any man, love this hard beast, with his “UUUURR! RRRRHHH! AAAAHHHRRR! UH-UH-UH-UH-UH!”
Then I felt it, his hand at my groin, feeling for my timid, diminished prick. “Are you so young as all that?” he wondered. “Or are you frightened still of your Uncle Hal?”
“Let me go.” I whined. “Please, let me go.”
“I won’t do that.” he declared. “But where is the lad who moaned with joy today? Did we not take our pleasure among the rose bushes, and didn’t you cling to me when I suckled this young pud of yours? And didn’t you beg me to come to this room with you tonight after the last candle had been put out, and spend the entire night with you?”
And his hands, his horned, hard hands, fumbled with my prick, coaxing it, urging it to accept him for a lover. He rolled us both over so that he could lay me out flat beside and partly atop him, his hand pumped at my crotch, holding my flaccid cock by its head and yanking it back and forth.
He seemed almost contrite, for all that his cock remained buried within me, but even now he held it still, enraged and hot within my body, but holding back now, until I could join him in his pleasure. He wasn’t a total animal after all. I looked into the face, wild still but also with a gentleness there. He wasn’t willing to stop fucking me, but he wanted me to enjoy it and would wait a space while I caught up to him.
To touch that heart of civilization in the wildness of the animal spirit...that is something of an accomplishment. All this power, all this ferocity, held itself in check...for me. It was not the tender arms of Oliver, it was not the kindness of a gentle heart such as his, but still...it was more than I had expected when those hands first ripped my nightshirt into shreds.
And then, as if a timid turtle poked its head from out of its shell, my cock filled in his hands, plumped in his fingers, firmed up into his palm. And Lord Harold laughed, and it was a hearty laugh, a laugh of life, hard and cruel but also with joy.
“That’s the little worm come back to life now, isn’t it, then?” He said to me. “Now, my lad, show me those ardent kisses you bestowed upon me in the garden.”
I did, I kissed this man with his hard cock impaling, ripping me from within. Taking the slight care offered to me and holding it like a precious gem, I kissed his lips with every ounce of skill and warmth I could fill it with.
And he chuckled, and his hand sped up on my cock, and he hunched me like that, myself lying half on top of him, and he still had the energy to fuck me like that, making his body do all the work of forcing my body upwards so that he could drive it all the way in, then letting us all fall back to the bed, and he did it as easily as a man rides a horse, moving in skilled harmony with the churning legs by a gentle rocking motion.
His hand pumped my cock, it wrenched me hard and fast, faster by far than he was fucking me now, his cock was a hot spear in my vitals, my cock seized that flame, I felt my face turn on a blaze of redness from within, which choked off my air, making me pant, making me wheeze, and turning my cock into liquid mercury that shimmered of its own accord under Lord Harold’s rough ministrations.
With a roar, with a snarling ripping roar like a lion, Lord Harold bounced me on his lap with a series of slapping sounds and then he stopped, shoved his cock inside me hard, and wriggled it there while he gasped, groaned, grunted, snuffled in climax, jetting hot arrows of sperm into my bowels.
And my cock was liquid mercury in his hand. It shimmered with its own life, its own light. I could only let it flow in silver majesty as it would, and then an ecstatic glow emanated from it, I burst into life and I sprayed up into the air all around, lying atop this huge lion-man, feeling his talons upon my breasts, clutching me, sinking into me, taking me for his own.
Done, exhausted, feeble, I felt myself sink back onto the bed. There was no sensation of his leaving the bed, rather it was like he evaporated, and I sank down onto where he once lay, only a pool of heavy, raunchy sweat on the bed to mark the joining of our bodies.