The Year of the Gods 3/?

[lucky-jack.livejournal.com]

It gets a bit sexeh here but in a very non-con way, so be very warned.

DM/EW
Warning: Some non-consensual sex and high sexual content in some chapters.
An AU story set in British prehistory. Dominic is the son of a tribal chief with the weight of his village’s problems on his shoulders. When Lijah, the rival chief’s son is taken captive, the gods demand that Dominic uses his new slave to appease them.

The altar stone was cold and dead against Lijah’s naked body as he lay there, surrounded by the villagers, the warriors and the priests. He could hear the chanting begin and, somewhere on the periphery of his vision, he could make out the warrior who had shown him such mercy but a short time before. He was aware of those stormy, grey eyes trained upon him, the gaze never wavering, making Lijah feel like he was being stared at by the gods themselves. Never had he felt his nakedness more than this moment and never had he prayed so hard for courage. To block out the attention of the crowd (the attention of those eyes), Lijah turned his sight to the stars, tracing the familiar constellations and naming them to himself under his breath, or some of them anyway. Familiar names escaped from his mind and danced, unreachable, on the tip of his tongue. Fear was beginning to take a hold, wrapping a constrictive band around his throat and stomach and making him blink back shameful tears.

“Remember Dafydd”, he murmured to himself, “remember your father. Remember you are the son of a chief”.

But the cold fear continued to mount and again he was aware of that warrior hovering on the edge of his vision. Lijah had heard him called Dominic whilst he had been in the hut. Dominic. He tasted the name on his lips as he licked them, dry with anticipation as they were. He was to be Dominic’s, he knew that. The man was the son of the chief, as he was himself, and so Lijah was to be his property, his…his ‘bitch’ as the druid had said. Lijah closed his eyes, trying to shut out the thoughts that raced around his head, the humiliation that was crippling him. But again he felt that gaze and, turning his head to the side, he opened them once more.

Dominic had been unable to tear his gaze from the man lying on the altar stone. Never before had he seen such beauty and such perfection, even in a woman. Lijah’s skin was pale, almost translucent in the moonlight and his slight but firm build was dwarfed by the enormity of the standing stones that surrounded him. He looked vulnerable and beautiful and Dominic’s eager eyes devoured him where he lay. ‘Mine’ was the word that raced around his head, ‘mine, mine, mine’. The fear and guilt that he had felt whenever Lijah trained those penetrating blue eyes on him, were absent now that he felt the man’s attention was elsewhere. Now he looked his fill, unquestioned and unchallenged. It was a voyeuristic pleasure previously unknown to Dominic who was used to unashamedly taking what he wanted, daring the object of his attentions to challenge his right to be master of the situation. Never before had he been forced, (was that the correct word?), into gazing furtively at nakedness, and he did not stop to ponder why this man, this ‘slave’ had such power over him.

And so he stared. At the mass of dark hair that fell in locks around his ears. At the flush of red in his cheeks. At the fingers which made anxious, grasping movements against the surface of the stone altar. At the pink defeated cock that lay dormant in the mess of his black wiry hair. At the sweep of his thighs as the muscles tensed against his fear.

Dominic’s mouth watered and he had to concentrate on controlling his erection. The chants were coming to an end now and Dominic knew what was coming. In the silence that followed he heard a breathless laugh of anticipation and turning saw his rival Morgan gazing with desire at Lijah. Dominic frowned. Morgan had challenged him for his leadership of the tribe and had failed, he had also challenged him for the right to his first wife but had failed in that attempt too. He was jealous of Dominic’s status and success and, from the look of lust on his face, he would challenge for possession of Lijah too. Feeling Dominic’s attention on him, Morgan turned and the pair shared a look of hatred for a second before Morgan smiled condescendingly and bowed his head. Dominic spat on the ground and turned away in disgust, directing his gaze back towards where Lijah lay and, as he did so, Lijah turned his head and opened his eyes. The shock of that gaze was like a spear thrust to the heart and Dominic found himself rooted to the spot with a mixture of fascination and fear, desire and shame. He could not look away and neither, apparently, could Lijah.

The moment was broken by Danell’s piercing howl as he thrust his staff towards the heavens in triumph, hopping from foot to foot, his head swaying back and forth as if in a trance. Every person in the crowd went still and held their breath for the moment of truth was approaching, the moment when they would offer to their gods the act that would save their tribe and bring defeat to their enemies.

“They have spoken”, Danell announced in a sibilant whisper which carried from one end of the circle to another, “The gods have spoken and they are pleased with what we offer”.

Reaching under his cloak, to the pouch that hung from a string over his bare chest, Danell produced from there a small knife which he brandished first to the gods of the air, then towards Lladwyn of the lake and finally to Hywell, the god of the site they were standing on. Turning next to Cendic and Dominic who was close by, he bowed and showed the knife. The two men bowed back and Dominic was aware that his mouth had gone dry.

All watched as Danell made his way towards Lijah. He circled the altar three times before raising his knife in the air and slowly lowering it again so that it rested against Lijah’s balls.

Lijah gasped, the sick feeling of fear almost overwhelming him. “Please”, he managed, “Please don’t do this”. He raised his eyes in supplication and met Danell’s ruthless, manic gaze in return. Danell merely smiled and deliberately drew the knife along the underside of Lijah’s testicles, the pressure firm enough to make a livid graze but not to do any damage. Lijah gritted his teeth and felt tears prickling against his best intentions. “No”, he whispered, “The gods, no”.

Danell bent down to Lijah, his mouth millimetres from his face so that Lijah could smell the evil of his breath. “I don’t wish the blood to flow out of you tonight, you are more precious to us alive. Woman”. He spat the last word into Lijah’s appalled face with a smirk and turned to the crowd. “The warrior is castrated. No more will he make sons to burn our village rape our women. He is the symbol and the future of his tribe. Let us ensure that future is subservient to the Brigantes”.

The crowd erupted into cheers and Lijah was aware of the jeers directed at him. Once more he sought the eyes of Dominic and once more found that gaze centred solely on him. No hint of jubilation in Dominic’s eyes, but no capitulation either. Lijah did not know whether to fear what he saw there or take comfort from it. He was not, however, given time to ponder this before he was dragged off the stone and made to stand.

“I offer this man-woman to you Cendic, to appease the gods and to honour this tribe”, shouted Danell. “What do you speak?”

“I speak of victory”, smiled Cendic. “I speak of hope for the Brigantes. I speak of the future of my tribe. And as I have strong sons already, I pass the man-woman to my eldest and my heir, Dominic, so that the luck may continue through my line. The slave shall be Dominic’s and he will lay with him every night to ensure that the Deceangli and their gods are humiliated and weakened every night. That is my will”. He glanced at Dominic. “Do you agree, my son?”

Staring resolutely at the ground and then at his father, never at Lijah, so beautiful and naked and so close, Dominic nodded. He could do nothing but agree. And if he could in some other world, disagree, would he do it? He wasn’t master of himself tonight and he could not tell what this other Dominic would do. He nodded and tried to control the timbre of his voice “I agree”.

“But I wish my elite warrior band to share some of the luck”, added Cendic. “The gods have made them impotent, I wish for them to have sons that will become warriors as is our tradition”.

“No!” Dominic was surprised by the vehemence of his outburst. “He is mine to lie with, mine”. He looked around the circle and then at the outraged face of his father, and tried to cover his emotions a little. “I do not wish to lie with sullied goods”.

Cendic and Dominic looked towards Danell who, head cocked to one side, was considering the situation. Once more, he raised his staff to the sky and stood swaying, communing with gods that would only talk to him. It was a tense few minutes as they waited and Dominic forced himself to look at Lijah. The man looked tense, defeated, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped as he awaited his fate. “I must not feel pity”, Dominic reminded himself. “I cannot”.

“Yes!” cried Danell suddenly, “Yes, yes, yes!”

“What do the gods speak?” asked Cendic, looking in awe towards the heavens and then the lake in the hope and dread of seeing them.

“The gods speak a compromise”, smiled Danell. “Dominic shall be the only man that lies with the bitch as is right and proper. But the warriors may have a share in the pleasure and ensure their luck as long as it is done in full view and with the approval of Dominic”.

Dominic sighed. He knew what such a command meant but he had to agree, for the gods demanded it.

Somewhere in the background, the music began and the villagers settled into groups around the circle, talking, drinking and feasting. Dominic sat with his warriors, his father and Danell in the centre of the stones. Lijah sat silently in the middle of them watching the men getting drunk, awaiting his fate, enduring the taunts and teasing that were directed at him, the wandering hands and the mounting mead-fuelled libidos. The only person who didn’t speak to him, didn’t touch him was Dominic, the one person who longed to do so more than anything else on this earth.

The moon was full and bright and the dew was on the grass when Lijah felt the first pair of hands around his waist, snaking downwards and pulling him towards their owner, a young warrior called Nhwydd. He let himself be drawn close but was totally unprepared for the roughness of the chapped lips sucking at the side of his neck and the hand that forced his own hand onto Nhwydd’s cock and trained it to a rhythm of even strokes. Lijah gasped and shoved at the young warrior away, to the peeling laughter of the other men gathered there. But as he pushed himself away from Nhwydd, Lijah felt a dagger at his throat and Danell’s insidious voice at his ear. “Remember Garren”, was all he said before pulling the knife away and settling back down amongst the warriors.

Lijah’s look of defiance immediately turned to despair as, perhaps for the first time, the enormity of this situation dawned on him. There was no escape from this if he wanted his son to survive. He had to capitulate. Danell smiled at him and nodded. Lijah held his gaze for a moment before reluctantly, and with the best of his will and courage, crawling back towards Nhywdd. He took the warm cock in his hand and fought down the bile that rose to his throat as he began a steady rhythm. Nhywdd gasped and moaned his appreciation, occasionally grasping Lijah’s hand to quicken or steady the pace as his taste desired. When it was over, Lijah looked own at the sticky white fluid in his hands and contemplated wiping it on the grass. But he did not have a chance before the next warrior claimed his share of the prize. Around the group he went, pulled from warrior to warrior, satisfying them all without a murmur and without eye-contact or any visible emotion.

Lijah hoped this immediate ordeal was over when he was shoved back into the middle of the circle and handed a drink, which he gulped down gratefully, before closing his eyes and praying to his god for a quick release from the nightmare he found himself in. But after some seconds he was aware of an uneasy silence. Lijah opened his eyes to find a man standing over him, another warrior, and of some importance if the number of bands on his arms were anything to go by, in any case a man that demanded respect and attention. The man grinned at him, placing two fingers under Lijah’s chin and raising him up by his head so that he was kneeling upright, his face level with the man’s groin.

“I have come for my share Dominic, as promised me by the gods”.

“Take it then Morgan”, said Dominic, his tone flat and hostile. Lijah allowed his eyes to flicker towards Dominic, who had been so quiet during this feasting and drinking, that his presence had almost escaped Lijah’s notice. But as his eyes rested on Dominic, Lijah felt his head being yanked back round to face Morgan.

“You’ll have him up your arse every night for as long as you have beauty”, said Morgan. “For now, I demand your attention”.

Slowly, Morgan raised his tunic and fumbled underneath at the ties of his trousers, pulling out his flushed and erect penis and smiling round of the group. “He should see a real man tonight if he sees nothing else”. Roughly, he grabbed Elijah’s hair and forced his head toward his erection. “And don’t even think of biting me bitch, if you value your precious son”.

Lijah took a deep breath and fought the urge to do just that. Garren’s face came to his mind, his expression so trusting and innocent that Lijah almost cried. But it did give him new courage and he dipped his head down to wrap his lips round Morgan’s cock.

“No!” demanded Dominic. “This is at my discretion and I say you shall not have this privilege before me”.

Lijah once more gazed at Dominic and saw him incandescent with fury. But Morgan was more composed. “The gods spoke, Dominic”, he answered calmly. “You must lie with him and we respect that. I have watched these men and their childlike fumbling with their cocks, and as warrior, and second in command I demand a greater share in this luck as my status befits. You cannot expect me to fumble and gasp as these men have, worthy as they are”, he added by way of conciliation.

Dominic looked between Danell and Cendic and saw no help there. He was forced to back down, the thought of Morgan having such intimacy with Lijah before he himself did, sickening him. Yet he needed to keep a show of calm. He did not want to give Morgan the victory that he craved.

“Take him Morgan. I doubt it’ll take long anyway”.

The men laughed but Morgan just smiled and, his eyes, on Dominic, drew Lijah’s head to his cock again. Lijah closed his eyes and drew a deep breath to take courage then, slowly, he drew Morgan into his mouth. The experience was like nothing he had expected. Lijah had had this done to him by women, of course, and so he knew what to do, but the taste and the sensation was quite unexpected. He tried not to gag as Morgan thrust himself deeper in and demanded that he use his tongue to better effect. Following instruction, Lijah swirled his tongue round the cock in his mouth and sucked harder and took him deeper with each stroke. In his head, he kept up the mantra, ‘I am a man, I am a warrior, I am the son of kings’, but he knew all that was gone. Respect and manhood once lost, was lost forever. The thrusts reached a crescendo with a spurt of hot liquid that he swallowed on reflex and immediately made him splutter.

“Not bad”, said Morgan, pushing Lijah’s head away and tucking himself back in. He looked at Dominic whose face was white with fury. “I’ve broken him in for you. He’s yours now”.