A Cumbuck’s Tale Ch. 01

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Disclaimer: Welcome to my world! My stories are almost always fantasy-based and involve non-consent. All characters are human. This chapter has consensual sex and interracial plot elements. Later chapters will present non-consensual situations, sexual slavery, and romance.

If any of the above bothers you, consider yourself warned. If you decide to read, I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter 1 — They Suck Like Gods

“A Lord, you say?” Gereg’s voice rose to a fiery bellow. “A Staubaun Lord?”

“I didn’t mean it!” Henna pleaded, every word thick with tears. “I was looking at the good cloth for my dress, and he approached me. He said I was pretty—”

“And pretty you are—pretty stupid, if you listen to one word from a Staubaun’s tongue!”

“She was flattered,” their mother said in a sharp angry voice every one of her eight children knew well. “While the shopkeeper distracted me, she whispered with the man and let him kiss her.”

“Kiss her?” Condemnation of that evil act resounded through the small stone and timber house. “He befouled the girl with his lust? What manner of man is that? What manner, I ask you? And the shopkeeper in on it! Never will we set another foot inside his door! Foolish child, do you know what they do, these Staubaun Lords? Do you know why they prey on empty-headed girls like you? So they can rape you! They fill stupid young Kheld girls’ ears with lies—tell them they’re pretty—promise them gold and love ever after. Promise they’ll build them a house! But their promises come to naught and vanish the minute their seed is spent.”

Cam listened wide-eared to Gereg’s rant. His parents seldom spoke so bluntly about sex. And Henna . . . had she really let a Lord kiss her? To hear their mother tell it, Henna had encouraged the man by showing her legs and giving him long looks.

Cam occupied himself by hauling water up from the well, tilting the bucket until it ran into the stone sluice that led to the kitchen cistern. Quietly, he put the bucket aside, minding the rope and checking the handle hitch as he always did. The last time a bucket had fallen down the well, Gereg had made him go after it. He now dreaded the cold dank walls and dripping stone enough to never want to have to go down the shaft again. As the voices within the house rose in volume, he pressed closer to the wall to listen.

“I’m sorry, Badda. Really. I didn’t mean it! I didn’t . . . go with him—”

“And a good thing! The Mother gave you one grain of sense! Do you know how big their penises are? Do you? Big as my arm!” Gereg’s rage had lessened not one straw. Cam could well imagine his father brandishing one of his big, burly arms, thick with muscle, before his cowering daughter. “Staubauns in their lust don’t care!” her father yelled. “They tear our girls bad, shred their openings and batter their wombs. The daughter of Alm Pergilsson bled to death! And those that don’t die from being torn die giving birth to their half-breed brats. Is that how you want to honor your Mother?”

“No, Badda. No—”

Their mother’s voice interceded. “Find yourself a good Kheld lad to take between your legs.”

Cam found it harder to hear what she was saying, or the words Henna sobbed in answer. The distraught girl fled the house moments after by way of the kitchen arch, her tanned legs carrying her across the yard. Cam knew where she would go and after closing the well he followed. Gereg owned a tradesman’s plot on the silt-rich flats, but there was a small rise with a shed and a few ancient trees, the gnarled twisted roots of which had been exposed and the ground hollowed between them to form a hiding place. He hopped over the roots and joined his sniffling sister, the ground cool against his knees. “I heard, Henna,” he told her softly and put his arms about her.

They were both eighteen years old, the only twins out of eight children. Theirs was a typical Kheld family, plain and boisterous.

“I didn’t mean it, Cam,” she sniffed. “I never thought he’d kiss me. It just happened. I like Bren Holbensson.”

“I know.” He had noticed the wagon-maker’s sturdy son finding reasons to visit. The easy-going youth with the sexy smile had been his friend since boyhood—though Cam had silently wished for more. “Badda thinks I’m a whore—”

“No, he doesn’t. He thinks Staubauns are monsters is all.”

“Maybe they are.”

“Some are, I reckon.” A girl their age, their neighbor’s pretty daughter, Brida, had been assaulted by a Staubaun man who had lured her in town. Brida had lingered for three days, her breasts and tender thighs bitten purple and her womb all torn up inside, pouring blood, because the man had been brutal with her. “Was that one?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. But he wanted me, Cam. I felt him, how hard he was against my belly. It scared me so, but he was handsome and I—” she sobbed and he pulled her tighter to him. “Oh, Cam—”

He held her for a while, stroking his sister’s dark silken hair, until her shoulders stopped shaking and her tears had stilled. It made him angry that a Staubaun Lord should illegal bahis have preyed on his sister, that a man could just come up to her in a store and think he could do whatever he wanted. It also shamed and alarmed him that his pecker swelled between his legs when he thought about that man’s erection, big and stiff, pressing against her body. Henna had been careless to let a Lord kiss her, but he also understood how it could have happened. Because they’re so marvelous to look upon. Cam had seen Staubaun men in town, gold-haired and tall with broad-shouldered bodies and jewels flashing at their wrists or throat. Just the other day he had caught a Lord looking at him, and their eyes had met. Something in that rich brown gaze had approved of him somehow, and he’d felt all at once as warm as if he had the sun inside him.

Henna sighed and nuzzled her head on his shoulder. Though tears still streaked her face, with its wide mouth and pretty nose, she had stopped crying. “I’ll wed Bren the minute he says he’ll build me a house,” she vowed. “He will get the shop from his father one day and have a good trade.”

Cam flashed a look of approval, then sighed. “That’s more than I will have. Meron gets this land and Badda’s trade. I’ll have to work for him, or build myself a trade of my own before I can get a wife.”

She pulled back from him then, and scanned his face with eyes that wondered how he could say such a thing. “You can get a wife, Cam. Go across the river to our kin home and get one of those high clan girls with land to fall in love with you.” He laughed, but she was earnest. “You’re handsome! Don’t look away from me—it’s true! Your looks and your smile make the girls shy. You can make a good marriage, work your wife’s land and bless her and the Mother with beautiful children.”

His twin didn’t know, no one did, that he thought about other youths more than he did about girls.

“I thought maybe I’d live in town.”

Henna wrinkled her nose, brushing leaf litter and twigs from her best skirt. “Why? The place smells of fish!”

Omadawn was a fishing town. Its trade consisted of eels, sweet sap in the spring, and skins from beasts hunted in the nearby hills. Cam was proficient at dealing with none of those things. His family made bricks. All he could really say about his vague idea of his future was that he did not see himself working in the brickyard forever, or wedding a local girl, none of whom had ever caught his fancy.

The only future he dreamed about lately was the one he’d glimpsed for a moment in the eyes of the gold-haired man who’d admired him that day in Omadawn.

* * * *

That summer the weather turned warm and dry and local demand for building materials soared. The turn proved good for Gereg’s trade. The brick maker put his large brood to work pressing straw into the region’s yellow mud, which he poured into frames laid out on the flat ground. Once the mud firmed, it could be molded into bricks which were then baked in the sun until hard. Once hardened, the bricks were stacked and hauled. It was hard work, and Cam had just worked up from chopping and stamping straw to where his father trusted him with the hauling. Though he would never be Staubaun tall, Cam had gotten taller and stronger. His arms sported supple new muscle and he liked how his chest was broader now, more like his older brother Meron’s. A sturdy teen son was good for heavy work and making deliveries took him into town sometimes and gave him a chance to look about at the world. He loved to just sit at street side and watch the bustle, inhale the smells of frying meats from street vendors, and listen to the cadence of rough river men brawling on the dock and the sing-song of merchants hawking their wares. Beyond them all, the Dazun river flowed like a broad silver ribbon.

Hauling was sweaty work, dusty and dirty, and a body got thirsty doing it. Cam found a beer vendor and bought a meat pie swimming with juices, then staked out a spot around the corner in the shade, a favorite vantage from which he could also watch the river. Barges hugged the piers, but he often caught sight of larger ships, masted schooners and great curve-hulled yachts out in the deeper channels. Looking south, barely to be seen some days and not seen at all on others, an emerald line marked the far shore. Only small boats went to Amallar, he knew, because what trade existed with the Kheld domain was minor compared with that to be had with the richer Staubaun-ruled lands of the North bank, where his family lived. The biggest boats traveled to the North’s great cities, all of which were but rumors to him. Staubaun cities were big, he’d heard, with streets of silver and houses roofed with gold. Khelds did not dwell in such places. They lived in small towns and made bricks and raised crops, and lived plain lives that never amounted to much but with which they were content.

“—did so!”

“Nah, ye nog.”

“Quiet now.”

Two other youths had wandered into the alley. They were Kheld and shabby, town boys by their look. Cam made a point of ignoring them as illegal bahis siteleri they turned their backs to him and continued their talking.

“—it’s a fence, see, a sucking fence—a place Lords go to get their dicks sucked. But they suck dick, too, ‘cuz some of them like that.”

“But no one sees?”

The first boy dropped his voice lower, just about a whisper, so Cam had to strain to hear him. “No, it’s a fence, planks with holes—only dicks poke through. An’ it’s not outside, it’s in a house, see—”

“Then it’s a wall.”

“No, it’s a fence. A wall is thick, it’s built to hold things up, or defend things like houses or towns. But a fence is just there to keep things friendly, saying to the neighbors this here is my garden and that there is yours, or these are my cows and those are your cows—”

“So this here is Kheld dick and that there is Staubaun?”

“Right! Because they don’t never cross over. All safe, you see.”

“So it’s a wall, ‘cuz it defends ’em from us knowing who they are.”

“No, numb nuts. It can’t be a wall ‘cuz walls are thick. Not even a Lord could stick his dick through a proper wall. This is just planks, see, and so they call it a fence.”

Cam listened harder, slightly embarrassed by his interest in such talk. All his life he had heard that Staubaun Lords favored enticing young Kheld women to satisfy their lusty male members—but it was no secret some Lords preferred a different flavor. Ever since his first trip to the village with his father, Cam had wondered what it would be like if one of those landed, golden men should look at him with wanting eyes. Sometimes he lay in bed thinking about it, how one of those tall, broad Staubaun bodies might look without clothing, how being touched by a gold-hair’s pale fingers might make him feel. His pecker swelled every time. Henna’s misadventure had but thrown fuel on such thoughts. He often took his hard dick in his hand, spending himself just to ease the pressure. Both his father and brother were pressing him to bed a girl, though the prospect left him more panicked than anything else. Other boys his age talked about girls ceaselessly, but he figured if he could get a Lord to suck his pecker, that would feel as good—and for some reason the thought excited him more. His dick was stone hard already at what he was overhearing.

“Look’t him, ‘e’s listenin,” the other lad, the one to whom the first had been talking, said. He looked at Cam coldly. All three boys leaned on the same wall, just off the street behind the same vendor. Only Cam, however, had food in hand.

“Am not,” Cam shot back. But it was true he hadn’t taken a bite of his pastry in a good minute.

“Are too. Listenin’ hard, an’ got yerself a hard one, too.”

Cam could hardly deny it. His dick announced his interest. “It’s always like that,” he said. “Just waiting for the next girl.”

The two street boys snickered. “That dick don’t fancy girls, looks like. Wants ta be Lord sucked, reckon.”

“Might,” he shrugged, admitting it only because these two obviously had tried it themselves. Proper Kheld society opposed any sexual contact between men at all. And even less so between Khelds and Staubauns. “But you know how it is. They never do our kind any good.”

“Just suck like gods and taste like heaven.”

“Says you, Law,” the second boy scoffed. He looked unconvinced, the reason the other lad had been trying to persuade him in the first place.

“Fuck you, Negg. Go to the Fence and find out for yerself,” his friend said again.

“What’s this Fence?” Cam asked.

“Place Lords go to suck Kheld dick. Seems they like the taste, young dicks ‘specially. Just last night one sucked me for near an hour an’ I came in his mouth four times. Best suck I ever had.”

“Best suck you never had!” Negg taunted.

“Where is it?” Cam asked, uninterested in their dispute.

The boys exchanged glances.

“Can’t tell you,” Law said.

“That’s pigshit.” Cam’s dick throbbed in his loose pants of rough-spun wool. “An’ like I would tell you, just cuz you have wood in your pants. Maybe all you need is a horn boy like me to suck it.”

Furious and offended, wondering why any pimple-pocked wog wharf weasel would think he would want that stupid, grinning mouth on his dick, Cam folded the remains of his pastry in its corn husk wrapper and thrust it into his road pouch, preparing to walk away. The boys dropped their leers.

“He’s being an ass,” Negg said by way of apology. “Don’t take it wrong. Need to buy our ear, is all. Can’t be too careful, now, can we?”

“Why the hells should I do that? Couple of wogs—”

“Not like you, course. Pretty boy what wants a Lord to suck ‘im.”

ANah. Just thought to try it, that’s all.”

“An’ so you should,” Law said quickly. He tilted his head at Cam, assessing what he might ask for in way of compensation. “Negg here told you right. Buy our ear, that’s all. Got enough coin for a couple of crocks?”

Cam did. He had just gotten paid for a delivery, but on top of that the building owner canlı bahis siteleri had given him two extra silvers for helping to unload. He’d spent part of one silver on the pastry and beer but had enough left over to buy a round of ales at one of the shacks willing to serve younger Khelds what their elders preferred they eschew. “Good enough,” he agreed, narrowing his eyes at them. Both were scrawny and ill-fed, and he had gotten some muscle to go with the inches he had gained the past couple years. “I buy the ale, but you don’t drink a drop until you tell me where this Fence is.”

“I’ll do you better,” Law offered. “Buy the ale, then I’ll take you there. You and Negg.”

“Not me,” Negg vowed. His hard, pug-nosed face proclaimed distaste. “Don’t care how good it feels, it’s not worth it. That’s how it starts, you know. First they suck yer dick, then you suck their’s. And after that, they take yer ass and yer gonners.”

“No one’s taking my ass,” Law vowed.

“Only cuz it’s hairy as a dog’s—”

Cam’s cheeks burned. He had never heard such talk before. Of course, it was given that Staubauns were as perverse and unscrupulous as they were beautiful, that they had larger cocks than Kheldish men, and used them more often. He’d heard that once any Kheld, woman or man, tasted Staubaun cock, they were done for. They would want only Staubaun cock thereafter, and crave it with a hunger beyond that for food or drink. A place like the Fence, where Kheld youths could go to suck or be sucked by Staubauns, had to be kept secret, because if the clan elders ever learned about the Fence and found it, they would tear it down and likely drive out of town any man they found there. To even visit such a place invited ruin. His father, Cam knew, would kill him for sure, if only to preserve his family’s reputation for virile, good-looking sons who built sturdy houses for their wives and produced strong, healthy families. Nothing in Kheld society was more despised than a lowly, Staubaun-cock-sucking wog.

Well, I won’t suck, not ever. I’ll just let one suck me, see what it’s like. No harm in that, if no one knows.

* * * *

After some more talk and a second mug of strong ale, Law agreed to take him to the Fence, which was on the fringe of the town’s east end. As night fell, they walked toward the river. It was a bad part of a poor neighborhood, stinking of fish and a nearby slaughterhouse. Planks creaked like crickets as they crossed muddy ditches rank with sewage. They came at last to an old stone house, once fine but long abandoned and hidden by brush, not far off the river. The place was dark, but the boy knocked on the door and said, “Hard dick.” At that, the door opened.

The man inside, a hard-eyed, thin-faced Kheld introduced by Law as Fernel, looked Cam up and down and indicated that he should pull out his dick. Cam did so without hesitation. He expected that the Lords were particular, and wanted only the best. The man lifted up a lantern and looked his member over, checking for pox and squeezing the head to see if he had any pus, before being satisfied and pointing to another door.

“Wash it,” he said.

The door led to a washroom, barely more than a rickety stand with a cracked water bowl and battered pitcher. Cam washed his dick carefully, cleaning every surface. Law then led him around the corner and down a hall. At the end was a long, narrow room, dimly lit. He could see the floor but the ceiling was lost to shadow.

Along one wall was the Fence.

It was little more than planks hammered together and smoothed either by hand or use. What light bathed the room was low, the better to conceal its patrons. Other Khelds—some youths, some men—were there already. Most knelt on the hard dirt floor before the solid structure of polished wood, their mouths working on Staubaun cocks thrust through holes in the Fence. Soft grunting and moaning filled the air. A couple of naked penises, Staubaun surely, erect and pale as candles, awaited service through holes as yet unattended. Each was large and thick, beautifully colored and elegantly formed, unlike any Cam had ever imagined. Such flesh seemed to have been crafted for pleasuring, regal and deserving. Looking at them made Cam hot and excited but also uncomfortable.

Several wogs knelt on the floor, slavishly servicing those cocks—a few older Kheld men, furtive and efficient, with hoods drawn up over their heads to conceal their faces, and a handful of drawn-looking, anxious youths hungrily sucking Staubaun juices. Cam forced his eyes away and turned his attention instead to the Fence’s other patrons. A brace of Kheld youths and a few men stood on blocks and clung to grips nailed on the wall, their half-naked bodies pressed tight to the wall and faces glazed with pleasure as men on the other side of the fence sucked their dicks. The bunching of male buttocks, cheeks jiggling, as the men pumped toward some unseen goal captured Cam’s interest in a way that made him blush. Some boys, who did not yet have men sucking what they offered, looked over at Cam resentfully, knowing another dick would be more competition, but a few were friendly. One youth smiled as if he had done this before and thought it was the greatest fun. “No watching,” the attendant, another unsmiling young Kheld, hissed to Cam, jabbing him. “You gonna do it?”

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