Archive-name: JourEntr/j514-204.txt
Archive-author: Elf Matheiu Sternberg
Archive-title: Aaden's Kiss

 
Journal Entry 204 / 0514

     Gods, but I'm in a strange mood today.  I've got an invitation, in
paper, from the Kowling twins to be their date tonight, and yet here I
am, stepping on this SDisk to go to the Arc to find- Borodir.

     I came out in the Arc main hallway and briskly walked to the large
open food square, which at this time of day was a bustling hub of
activity, full of every imaginable species, all milling about and
talking and laughing in this completely glass-enclosed, sunlit room.
The entire room is done in bright white paint and hanging plants, and
the entire effect is glaringly brilliant.  I sheilded my eyes with my
hand and began looking for him.

     Back, a while back, when I'd been seriously interested in SM as a
lifestyle, Borodir had been my trainer.  He had been the first man to
tie me down, to take a whip to me.  And I admit, I had loved every
minute of it.  I needed a man to be a master, too; I don't understand
it, but that was one of the main reasons for my final 'break,' the
realization that I can't really do this anymore.  I'm more het than even
I like to think, and SM is attractive as an overwhelming thing that
possesses me and takes me over, but in the long run I can't do it
forever.  If I talk to Borodir or Lynn, they'll tell me that there are
bottoms they've had for over a century now, but I only lasted four
years.  Ah, well.

     There was one thing Borodir had wanted to try, and as his slave I
still had the right, in the end, to refuse him, but in my heart I had
wanted it, and for some reason tonight I did want it.  I wanted it badly

     What am I doing here?  The question brought a smile to my lips; the
last time I'd gone in search of a master I'd unwittingly ended up in
Aaden's chains and was quite pleasantly raped by him and his cohorts.
But not Borodir.  I wanted Borodir, and I wanted him tonight.

     And he was here.  I finally found him, in his pressed starch
uniform.  He looked relaxed and comfortable, the muscular mass of his
body lying comfortably in one of the larger reclining chairs, a murky
orange drink in hand, complete with little paper parasol.

     I walked over to him and said "Good afternoon, sir."

     He smiled and looked up at me.  "Good afternoon, Shardik."
Borodir's voice always reminds me of old Tarzan movies, the ones with
the African kings and the melodious way they used to speak, a constant
sing-song-like hum under every word as he uses.  Maybe it's because he's
black.  I don't know.  All I know is, I find it very sexy.  "And what
brings you to the Arc on such a beautiful day?"

     "I came looking for you."

     "And why would you be doing that?"

     "Remember what we used to talk about?"

     "Which 'what' was that, Shardik?"

     I hate when he leads me.  "The one thing you wanted to do.  The one
I wouldn't let you.  You remember, Borodir."

     "No I do not, Shardik.  This one thing, what was it called?"

     I sighed, resigned to my old master.  "I want you to put both of
your hands inside me, Borodir.  Fist me, Sir."

     "Ah, now I do remember.  Tell me, are you interested in this
tonight?"

     "Before the madness passes, yes."

     "Before the madness leaves you, then.  Tonight.  Shall I invite our
old friend?  The one with bushy tail."

     Aaden.  I smiled.  "Yah, that would be nice."

     He smiled back, linked his fingers and stretched, popping a few
knuckles as he did so; it emphasized just what I had asked for.  "Then I
will see you later today."  He put his hand into his vest pocket, then
handed me an unlabled address chip. "Dress accordingly.  Shall we dine?"

     I agreed, and we rose to visit the cafeteria line.  The food was
not bad at all, considering how many people ate here.

 
 
     As instructed, I dressed "appropriately"; leather chaps, very old
bluejeans, flannel shirt, leather vest and cap, no jacket, engineer's
boots.  I walked confidently to the SDisk and summoned the pentacle; I
instructed the port to send me to the preset coordinates on the chip.  I
was more than a little surprised when those coordinates didn't resolve
into "The Underground."

     I stepped out into.. a barn?  There was the smell of fresh hay
everywhere, and from the rafters hung a very ornate sling done in red
leather.  Sunlight streamed in from the open windows, and I heard birds
fluttering about in the rafters.  I was alone.  I was about to turn
around and go looking when a hand grabbed my neck from behind.  "On your
knees, boy," I heard.

     I obeyed, falling to my knees and casting my eyes down.  I
recognized the voice as Aaden's.  "Crawl," he said.  I began to crawl on
my knees in the direction he led, toward where the sling was set.
Borodir stepped into view, looking very powerful in his flannel shirt,
leather vest and jeans.  Borodir and I agreed on a lot of things, and
costume was one of them- we didn't really believe in it.  "In," Aaden
commanded.  Despite his apparent position of authority, tonight Aaden
was Borodir's second, but I obeyed, jumping up and getting into the
sling, on my back this time.  Aaden took my right leg and secured it
high on the sling; then he did the left.  My hands were left free; I lay
them by my sides on the sling platform.  I stared up at the rafters,
where some kind soul had installed a mylar mirror, so that I could see
very clearly what was going on.

     Borodir spoke, "Boy."  I snapped to attention, looking down the
length of my body to where he stood.  "Are you ready?"

     I settled back onto the sling.  "Yes, sir."

     "Aaden... Open him up for me."

     I glanced over at Aaden, and heard him say, "With pleasure, sir."
I saw him in the mirror walk over between my legs, and he said "You have
no idea how much I enjoy this, Shardik."  With his claws at the crotch
of my jeans he tore a small hole.  He grabbed at the hole with both paws
and tore my pants apart, reverting to the pair of scissors he had with
him only when he reached the waistband.  His fingers gently caressed my
asshole with some warm lubricant, and I could see him in the mirror
stroking himself to full hardness with his other paw.

     He turned his attention from his cock to my butt, and pressed the
one against the other.  I could feel the pressure, and I was ready for
him this time.  I let him in, feeling my asshole clamp down on his cock
as it slid into me.  But he is so long, as he pressed his hips against
my ass he pressed painfully far, rearranging my insides, but I liked him
there.  I looked up into his furred face, the single white stripe
beginning at the bridge of his muzzle and progressing all the way over
his head and, although I couldn't see it, down his back and then up his
tail.  He grabbed ahold of the chains and used them to stroke me back
and forth, impaling me upon his pole.  I lay there, being his toy,
taking his abuses, knowing full well that I'd asked for this this time,
and enjoying every second, every stroke, every deep and painful jab.

     He slowed down, and I could see that intense look on his face, that
sight of pain and readiness, and he raised his face to the rafters and
shouted as his cock throbbed and shot into my guts.

     But it was hardly over.  He slid out of me, and Borodir took his
place, sliding his cock into me.  But it wasn't his cock I was
interested in tonight; in that regard, Aaden was actually larger than
Borodir.  But I enjoyed him, his thick uncut dick, as it sawed into my
asshole, and I closed my eyes with pleasure when he came.

     But it was his hands, his huge hands, that I was interested in
tonight.  I'd never done this before, especially not with someone with
hands that large.

     He smiled, his white teeth shocking in his black face.  And Borodir
isn't brown, or dark brown.  This man is black.  Space black.  He ran
his well-greased right hand over my buttocks and without much pause slid
two fingers into me.  Then a third.  Aaden had moved around to my head,
and he kneeled by my side and said "Would you like some 'nite?,' Ken?"

     I shook my head.  "No.  No drugs.  I want this... just like this." 
In the mirror I saw Aaden shoot a glance at Borodir, and Borodir just
nodded back.  Borodir knew my mind on that- If you need drugs for where
you're at, you're in the wrong place.

     He slid a fourth finger into me, widening my asshole further.  I
was breathing hard, and my mind was spinning from hyperventilation.  My
heart was pounding, and occasionally I could feel little 'ripping'
sensations from my butt as the flesh gave way in places, as it has a
tendency to do.  It hurt, but it didn't hurt, because I wanted it so
badly.

     He began to slide his hand out, in, out, in, easing it further with
every push.  Borodir curled his thumb against his palm and began to push
harder, trying to get deeper, and I closed my eyes as I felt him slide
his hand further and further, until he reached that point where it had
to go in, and he pushed, and his hand slid into my asshole up to the
wrist.  I felt my anus clamp down with pleasure and relief around the
smaller diameter of his wrist, even though I knew he'd eventually have
to take it out again.  I lay there, on the end of his arm, and wondered
what next, while I felt the sensations he gave me course through my body
with an obscene heat.  I felt his fingers move inside me, an alien
intelligence inside my guts, and he curled them into a fist, and that
drove me wild, rattling the chains and groaning.  In the mirror I could
see the black trunk of his forearm end at my white butt suspended over
the red, wooden floor.  I leaned my head back a little further to see
Aaden standing over me, his cock dangling just behind and above my head.

     Borodir pumped me with his hand, and I just closed my eyes and
luxuriated in the pleasure and submission.  And then, without much
warning, he slid out of me.  "Shardik," he said, "I have a small suprise
for you."  He snapped his fingers.

     I lay there, my asshole spread wide open, wondering what could be
next.  The answer was quick in forthcoming.  I heard a familiar "clop,
clop" of hooves on wood.

     "Hello, Ken," I heard.  I looked up to see Ramsey Cougal, an old
Centaur friend who'd I'd been a rather mean tease to one day.  "When I
heard about this little get-together, I couldn't resist."

     He approached me, and then reared up, his forehooves coming between
the chains and then down around my sides;  I heard the sound of chains
rattling.  Ramsey is a big Centaur, and with him over me my head was
resting up bewteen the leather sling and his foreshoulders.  I felt a
hand, Borodir's I assume, at my ass, and I guess he was aiming.  I
leaned my head back and waited.  Centaur spines are very supple, and
Ramsey had bent over to watch me.  I smiled.  He winked, and then
strained forward.  His horse's cock jammed into me, filling me almost as
much as Borodir's arm, but not quite.

     I lay there, impaled, listening to the chains rattle again as that
enormous living penis rocked back and forth inside me, feeling this
massive equine weight shifting and pounding above me.  I wrapped my arms
as far as I could around his lower breastcage and held on.  Ramsey's
penis impaled me farther even than Aaden's, and the cramping grew fierce
and insitent, but I loved it.

     Ramsey came, screaming, his entire body shaking above me, and I
feared him going weak in the knees and collapsing on top of me.  But he
had control, and slowly backed off, his softening cock falling out of
me.  I groaned, empty again.

     I could see Ramsey's face, and he wiped the sweat from his brow and
smiled, saying "That was tight, Borodir.  Thank you."

     Borodir smiled, and took his place at my ass again.  Without
lowering the chains or much else ado, he began sliding his hand back
into me, curling it into a fist as soon as he did so.  I rattled the
chains with my writhing, and he said, "Calm down, boy.  I've got that
one last gift for you."

     Then I felt it down at my ass;  Borodir was slipping another finger
into my butt along his wrist.  Carefully he worked it in, and I felt a
soft pain at that one spot that was being stretched a little further
than then rest.  I closed my eyes again and tried to relax, my mind
spinning.  Two fingers replaced the one.  I was really going off now.

     "Aaden," I whispered, glancing back at the Mephit standing next to
my head, "I need something."

     "What?" he whispered back.

     "Something to... to distract me."

     "Like?"

     "Kiss me."  He shot another perplexed look at Borodir.  Borordir
merely nodded back.  That's what I like about Borodir; he's so Zen,
everything's cool with him.  I realized I was taking a bit of risk with
Aaden, though; He and I had the sort of relationship where you didn't
kiss your partner before you fucked him.  I didn't know if he was a good
kisser, or even if he liked kissing.

     Borodir slid a third finger in, and now I was sure he was expanding
my asshole even beyond the width of his hand.  It hurt, and my head
spun, as Aaden bent down to kiss me.  His muzzle touched my lips, and I
reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulders.  I needed
him.

     He responded, at first awkwardly, but he warmed to it, our tongues
meeting and responding.  His paw stroked along my chest, his claws
lightly scratching.  Borodir added his pinky and thumb.  Someone else,
Ramsey, I guess (who else was there?), squirted something onto my crotch
so that it ran down my ass; lubricant.

     The kiss became the center of my universe, despite the activity
going on at my ass.  The kiss is the most sensuous activity there is; it
involves all the senses.  I could feel Borodir's hands sliding back and
forth, against the flesh of my asshole, against each other.  He uncurled
the fist he had inside of me and I could tell when the fingers of his
left hand were sliding into the palm of his right.

     Aaden's claws became a little sharper, scratching and catching my
nipples.  I groaned as the painful sensations at my butt and nipples
combined into the passion I was feeling for him.  He never broke
concentration on the kiss to think about the scratches, and his
scratches seemed to be perfect.

     Borodir's hands met; I hadn't even noticed when he'd gotten the
left hand completely into me.  I felt him intertwine the fingers into
one big fist inside me, and he began to pump me with it.  It was
incredible; I was completely lost.  I just kissed Aaden, and I felt him
lean a little further over me.  His paw reached down to where Borodir
was fucking me with his arms, the pads of his paw trailing over my
abused asshole and Borodir's arms, and then over my balls, the claws
coming out a little further, and then he took my cock into his hand.

     It was all over.  All I needed was a touch and I exploded,
screaming; I managed to close off my mouth so that I didn't scream into
Aaden's.  My come shot over my body and Aaden's arm, hitting as far as
my throat.  Borodir was swift, removing one hand before the first spasms
had subsided and gently removing the other after I'd taken a few deep
breaths.  I felt it leave me, and I felt like I was missing something
that belonged to me.  But it wasn't so bad.  I breathed heavily, just
lying there, letting it all subside.  Vaguely I felt Aaden undoing the
leg restraints.  My legs hit the floor with an audible thump.

     "Hey," Aaden said.  "You okay, Ken?"

     "I... I don't know.   I think so."  I also felt like someone could
park a good sized atmospheric shuttle in my asshole and have room left.

     Aaden extended his hand to help me up.  I accepted it gratefully;
when I was standing vertically, I was amazed that my insides didn't fall
out through the cargolock I now had for an anus.  I flexed the muscles
down there and gratefully accepted the fact that at least some of them
still worked.  The effort made me shudder violently, though.

     He helped me walk to the SDisk and we 'ported to The Underground.
When I reached the bar, now was the time to order something
intoxicating.  Aaden grabbed a beer.  Borodir joined us a few minutes
later, and he said "You weren't bad out there, Shardik."

     "Thanks," I replied.

     "It's you I should thank," Borodir replied smiling.  "So, Thank
you."

     "You're welcome," I replied, gratefully.

--
"Aaden's Kiss"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1992 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.