Legends of Belariath

Devia

Seeds & Sow

Prologue

You are a pervert. So enjoy it.

Seeds & Sow

He was exhausted by the end of the day, but, for his part the fields were plowed, and the seeds were sown.  It had been an unusually dry season, with a hot merciless sun that left him, many days drenched with glistening sweat. When Dan had started this job, working in the fields of his Lordship No Heart, he was full of dreams, aspirations for the future, now, as he hunched over the plow, panting as long lines of wet exertion dribbled onto the parched earthy soil beneath, he could think of little other things but need for a good nights rest.

Dan could feel his muscles tense, that dense, but slender brawn aching from a long days work as he dug his heels into the dirt, and wrenched backward to pull the plough free.  When it came loose, it did so with a hard, scraping sound and sudden rush of momentum that sent him toppling back into the thin layer of loose, windswept soil, caking his wet, rippling back in a layer of earthy camouflage.

He was slow to move, rolling lazily onto his side before coming to rest on the strong abdomen of his stomach, his crimson hued eyes straining to see the end of a long field, and the small rundown shack that was supplied to him during the cultivating months.  He was weary of the long walk, but more so of the strange, ache within him, that yearned things in a language he could not understand.

These wants, these buried desires, were pushed down deep within his stomach, packed in with the near flavourless gruel that was brought in for him to consume.  It seemed strange to him, this creamy, mucus textured substance, with squared chunks of partially cooked potatoes floating with short tube like shapes of, what was undoubtedly low graded leftover meat.  More peculiar still, that it often brought to mind that tall, imposing figure that was the Lord of the land as he carefully spooned it passed his moist, parted lips.

It was a while before Dan could return to the nearly adequate dwellings of his hovel, his heavy booted feet dragging against the cracked threshold, and with an unknown urgency began stripping away the layers of his clothing.  Naked, he could feel the cool breeze wash across his skin, as his flaccid cock slapping against the interior of his thigh. He collapsed into a chair, and slid one leg over the next, partially crushing the bulbous tip between the two limbs as he cast his crimson gaze across the table.

He could feel the sweat chilling on his skin, as his rounded heel nudged the chair backward, teetering it lazily onto two legs as his rough, strong fingers brushed over the dense muscles of his chest, hairless, and glistening in the in the pale light the filtered through holes, and crevices throughout the abode.  It was then he came to regard the small cast iron pot set amidst the center of the table, and leaning forward, he caught the heavy lid and pulled it slowly upward.

Gruel, by far more white and murky then it had been in the past, and while his mind winced, his stomach, and deeper still rumbled with need.  He was slow, coaxing an arm around the chilled exterior of the pot, dragging it close to the edge and listening, carefully, for the creaks and groans of table long passed its prime. 

He pushed his hand into the mouth of the metallic container, before curling deft fingers about, what was increasingly larger tubes of meat then had been presented in the past, and dragged it slow to his lips only to sigh as that thick, syrupy cream slid from the tip, and dribbled down messily against his naked lap.  Trying to save himself from further, he pushed his tongue outward, and slathered it across the thick length before taking a small, selective bite of the end.

- - - -

The last of what Dan could remember, was the small explosion of liquid into his hot, young mouth, and the feeling of his body sprawling naked across the floor.  The next sensations, were by far different then the last as what was the whistle of a summers breeze through the small crevices within his home, now was the slink and jingle of chains that made dark, and hallow sounds in the starkly cooler atmosphere.

He awoke, to the that dull, throbbing ache of his jaw and limbs, the feeling of wet drool leaking from the corner of his distended lips, and the small, strangely familiar warm smelling object clapping against his cheek.  At first, the flutter of his own lids, dragging in with them, small amounts of interior slight and then the faint, looming outline, of slender masculine hips, and then, there, within his sight, dominating his view, a upward thrusting, vein covered, cock.

"Don't try to talk" A voice, a strong base tone reverberated from a thick, densely muscled masculine chest.   It sent cold shivers down the length of his spine, and caused an embarrassing clench of his strong curving ass.   "I suppose, I should tell you that you have done well, sewing the seeds that will later become sustenance for my private court" It was then, a deep sinking sensation feel into the pit of his stomach, that in itself, churned and growled hungrily "I have not forgotten your hunger, Dashing Dan"

He knew it to be true, that man, that figure commanding his attention, was none other then No Heart and before he could make a sound further than helpless groan, he felt the head of that thick, pulsing rod pushed passed his distended lips, and sunk, inch after deliciously flavoured inch toward the back of his throat.  That grossly fat tip jostled against the hot spasm of the entrance to the clenching interiors of his neck, leaving him gagging, gurgling lost and hungry around the imposing girth.

"This is just the beginning" That near, breathless voice rumbled down from above, as the soft, teasing swivels of his hips gave way to a sudden, and brutal thrust. Puncturing that delectable hole, feeling the forced, luscious bend of throbbing manhood as it entered, distended Dan's cock dependent throat.  "For the weeks you have sewn your seed in the fields, I will sew onto you, mine" With that, the saliva soaked length pulled free. 

Fear rolled through Dan's captive form,  as all at once he felt every knot, every devious tie that held him, that suspended his beautiful, sweat moistened form from the ceiling, and much, much to his horror, he felt the once flaccid dangle of his cock, now pressing, rubbing against the muscled flat of his stomach.  He was hopelessly, helplessly, and needily set afire by arousal, but the deep, bubbling submission of his slender, masculine frame.

"This is truly fertile ground" It was the last intelligible words passed between them, as No Heart, that imposing figure rolled his hips forward, his taut, curving ass flexing, baring down to his own, dark, puckering star. Fighting his own battle, the urge, the overwhelming need to moan. His jaw sealed, his thick dark bearded jaw could only clench as he took, as he raped willing mouth of his captive, of his Dashing Dan.

The End.

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