8. Sword of Zara #2
But this was what the Adranoans did with any stray brown person finding themselves on the island.
The customs were ancient and clear. The brown people—the Nubians—were a sign of good luck for the island.
But only if they were dispatched with the sword of the ruling king.
No king in history had had the sword that King Zara possessed.
Thrice before Nubians had been brought to him during his reign.
And each time good times had come to Adrano when he had dispatched the Nubian with his sword.
Only one had survived the first thrust, and then only for a matter of moments.
This was the smallest Nubian sacrifice of all.
The king approached the Nubian between his spread legs.
He unsheathed his golden dirk and placed the tip under the chin of the young lad.
Looking down at the Nubian, the king was in full arousal.
The Nubian was pure beauty, the height of sensuality to the king.
He would not make this quick if he could help it.
He did not relish dispatching the arousing youth as quickly as the others.
But even in death, the king would have his sheathing and plant his seed at the center of the Nubian.
The king placed the huge bulb of his monstrous cock at the hole of the Nubian and leaned over and looked closely into the youth’s face.
“Tell me who you are and who you serve and how you came to be on the beach of my kingdom,” the king growled.
“I am Toma,” the youth murmured. “Beyond that I cannot say. Kill me if you wish. I cannot say.”
The king watched with relish as his bulb gained purchase in the youth’s hole, which caused the youth to shudder and his head to veer back and his howl of pain and stretching to be cried to the heavens.
The king was pleased with the expression on the youth’s face; it made the king feel mighty and invincible.
“The heavens cannot help you, little one,” the king muttered. “The heavens favor me, and you have been sent as yet another favorable sign. Now, tell me, who do you serve and how do you come to be on my beach. It will go quickly with you if you do.”
Silence.
The king, angry now, pushed his greased member in several inches in one thrust. The pupils rolled back into the eyes of the Nubian youth, and he screamed a scream that stopped in mid voicing and he had passed out.
All in attendance thought he was dead, indeed thought that the taking he had received was enough for him to be dead, but the king saw that the youth still breathed, in shallow breaths, and he signaled attendants, who stepped up and slapped the youth on the face until he was revived.
“Who do you serve and how do you come to be on my beach?”
The Nubian just looked the king steadily in the eye and was silent.
Angry again, the king started to thrust even further into the channel of the youth, but now it was he who gasped.
The surprise was his now, as the Nubian’s channel expanded, and the undulating muscles of his canal seized the king’s cock and pulled him deep, deep, relentlessly deep into the center of the Nubian youth.
And then the youth arched his back and raised his pelvis further.
He jerked his ankles out of the grasp of the attendants and crossed his legs tightly above the king’s buttocks and started to fuck the king in a steady rhythm.
The shocked king was lost in ever greater waves of arousal. He dropped his dirk, and when the Nubian raised his lips to the king’s, they went into a deep sensual kiss.
The king was lost in full fuck now, forgetting tradition and custom and the sacrifice completely. And the flowing he experienced was the best he’d had in memory.
Afterward he collapsed on top of the breast of the Nubian youth, and Toma put his lips to the ear of the king and murmured, “I serve you, if you will have me, and I came to be on the beach because the gods sent me to endure the sheathing of the Sword of Zara for as long as you will have me.”
Recovered, the king bluffed that the gods had sent the Nubian Toma to answer to the arrogance of the Fonni and that he would be locked away in the castle to be sacrificed on the altar of the sun there, the altar of the sea not being worthy enough for this sacrifice.
The altar of the sun was so sacred that only the king could approach it.
And so, Toma was locked away in the king’s chambers. The first time the king called for Toma, however, Toma straightaway gave the king the answers he had originally sought.
“I will keep no secrets from you, my lord, as long as you search my depths with the Sword of Zara. Only you have brought me satisfaction. Before coming to you, I served the Duke of Sorso, who was lost at sea that stormy night, he along with all of his forces. Only I survived, being sent to you by the gods to serve you. And I gladly tell you that it is more than the forces of the Duke of Sorso who are no longer with the prince who besieges you. The Duke of Jerzu has deserted him as well, with all of his contingent. And the puss sickness has taken away even some of the prince’s forces.
But it is true, he is the Prince of Madness.
He insists on attacking you and taking Adrano.
He knows you do not have the forces to cover all of the approaches to your island kingdom.
He believes he can find your unprotected underbelly. ”
“He does not know what I know, little one,” King Zara said.
He was laying on his bed of pillows, holding the small Toma to him and running his hands over the Nubian youth’s body.
He was transported by the brown bodies of the Nubians.
He had regretted the short play time he had had with the first three sent to him.
He had no idea how the youth had managed him on the altar, although he had only been half sheathed when he had given up his seed in surprise.
Toma was arousing him to the heights, but he did not want to kill the lad with his sword until he had learned more from him.
In the meantime, he was toying with Toma’s hole with his thumb, which was larger in itself than the cocks of most Adranoans, and Adranoan men were famous for their cocking.
Toma was sighing and began to move his hips on King Zara’s thumb and, without thinking about it, the king had substituted first one and then two fingers.
“He does not know that we know precisely where he will land. The oracle at Noto has told us so. It has spoken twice. When it speaks the same name the third time, we will know for sure, and that is where we will position our defenses.”
“I fear for you, my king,” Toma said, as he reached down and held the wrist of the hand the king was slowly finger fucking him with. The king felt the pull of Toma’s channel upon his fingers, and he inserted another one.
“You are being led astray. I cannot remain silent. I must prove myself to you. I yearn for your sword, which reached further into me than any other man’s. Please I beseech you, sheath your sword in me once more, and then I will tell you secrets that will shake your very soul.”
“I do not want to dispatch you,” the king murmured. “I needs play with you further. I am too much for you. You cannot survive me.”
“Nay, sire,” Toma said. And then he laughed. “Look, sire, look for your hand.”
The king looked down at the hand he was using to play with Toma’s hole and gasped in shock. His whole hand up to his wrist was inside Toma now, and yet Toma’s channel muscles were working to pull his arm even deeper.
The king’s lust knew no bounds, and he rose and pulled his fist from out of the Nubian’s ass and lifted the youth up with broad hands more than encircling his waist and settled Toma’s hole over his fully erect sword.
“At least I feel I must lap you,” the king said, “lest I crush your body. That at least is too delicate for my frame.”
The king pulled Toma half way down on his cock and began to lift him and bring him down, beginning the rhythm of the fuck.
After the initial cry and groan, Toma began to pant and moan. “Nay, my king. Sheath your sword in its entirety. I must have it all.”