The Telemachus Story Archive

Sir Tristran Auberge
Part 5 - The Soldier And His Spoils
By Kyle Cicero

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Sir Tristan Auberge: A Templar tale

By Kyle Cicero

Another rather longer tale ‘from the vaults’ of stories that have not yet appeared on the Net.

Part 5. The Soldier And His Spoils

Tristan had barely finished bathing before two burly officers came into the room. “You are to drink this and then come with us,” one said as he thrust a flask at the baffled young captive.

“What is it?” Tristan asked taking the object reluctantly. He drank it since in the end he knew they would have their way. A few seconds later he felt strangely aroused.

“This liquid fires the senses and softens one’s fears,” the man barked. “Come, for tonight our Lord will finish what he started when he first unhorsed you in battle.”

“Finish what?” Tristan asked as his entire body came alive in a series of sensations that excited him. “Where is Hathor?”

“Come,” the man said sharply as he and the other man led a woozy Tristan out of the bathing room. The drugged captive never felt so sensitized to his surroundings. It was as if the every sensory nerve in his body was alive. Though he felt he should be concerned about what was happening, somehow he couldn’t summon the desire to vocalize any objections. A few minutes later they entered another large room.

Tristan looked around. It was a bedroom. It suddenly came to him what “finish” must have meant. “NO!” he yelped as he moved to fight, but the liquid he had consumed had rendered him uncoordinated, and the two men easily overpowered him and dragged him to the giant four poster bed where they laid him on his back. With minimum fuss, they secured Tristan arms to the two lower posts then wound another rope around his neck to secure his head downward to the floor. They left, and a few seconds later a helmeted man entered whom Tristan assumed must be the man who had defeated him in battle. Tristan glared at the Saracen lord’s powerful frame for he was in most critical respects completely naked. “I will not permit this,” the bound warrior said to him despite knowing he was incapable of refusing any assault on his body given his present condition.

The man quietly approached the bed holding a sword that he placed alongside Tristan. His only body coverings consisted of crossed leather straps across his waist and his powerful fully muscled chest. A medallion gleamed where the straps intersected between his pectorals He had on golden shoulder plates that glistened under the torchlight. Lastly, he wore a helmet that Tristan instantly recognized as part of his armor. It was then he saw that the sword and the shoulder plates were his as well. He has taken my armor and weapons as the spoils of our battle and now he seeks my arse is to be included in these spoils as well, Tristan said to himself as he bucked in his bindings. By now that “drugged” effect had worn down though the young Templar’s body still tingled in a highly pleasant manner.

The Saracen got onto the bed and took each of Tristan ankles in one of his hands. He roughly spread the bound knight’s legs apart then moved between them on his knees. All during this Tristan writhed and squirmed shouting his defiance.

“I will not surrender willingly,” Tristan yelped as he clenched his anal muscles determined to deny the man any easy entrance inside him.

Silently the man positioned his cock at Tristan’s anal gateway. He rubbed the head of his erect cock slowly along the sensitive ribbed outer anal muscles of the knight’s chute.

A thousand shivers of intoxicating stimuli flowed into Tristan’s crotch. Thanks to the liquid he had previously ingested, the sensations were even more powerful than the ones that had driven the captive to a sexual orgasm earlier in the day at the “public mounting”.

“No,” Tristan grunted through his tightly clenched teeth even as his other opening below twitched under the sensuality of what was happening to it. Beads of sweat broke out on the strapping young warrior’s body. To his horror, he found that he could not keep his chute clenched as tightly as before. After a few more minutes of this frottage, his hole slackened.

It was at that moment he could feel the cock-head of his would-be defiler easing its way into him. “NO!” Tristan moaned helplessly as without warning the man pushed forward and Tristan’s hole accepted its first cock. “ARRGGH JESU!” The dumbstruck knight howled as the man thrust slowly past the outer defenses until he was fully inside the protesting knight. To his mortification, the young captive sprouted an erection. As he did, the man took hold of Tristan’s engorged manhood and fastened a series of tight gold rings around the base of the warrior’s cock.

Tristan gazed at the silent helmeted figure of the Saracen lord, and to his surprise, he wished it were Hathor that was inside him. As these thoughts played in his mind, the man’s hips began to rock in and out of the fair-haired warrior’s hole. Gently, Tristan found himself being screwed. The arousing sensations this caused in him took Tristan by surprise. “Oh sweet Lord,” he heard himself moan. The hardness of this man moving in and out of him triggered new sensations that soon had him shamelessly whimpering in exquisite delight.

“Harder, please harder,” he finally cried heedless now of any shame or degradation now only wanting this new experience to continue. He began to buck his hips to meet the Saracen’s strokes and soon the room filled with the rutting noises of the two men. Tristan felt as if he were being conquered on a profoundly deeper level. To his shock,, the sensation of  yielding to a more powerful man thrilled him. Yet, it was Hathor’s face that appeared in his mind and it was to him that the knight mentally surrendered too.

“Fuck me Hathor. Fuck me,” he blurted out as his body felt the hot beads of sweat that dripped from the body of the man who now loomed over him. Tristan mind exploded into fireworks of sexual erotic stimuli. Then it all became too much to endure and with a loud yell Tristan began to climax. “Take my ass Hathor,” he blurted out. A blast of thick cream emanated from his cock and splattered onto his hard eight-pack. As he ejaculated, his body went rigid.  His head fell backward as he closed his eyes and mentally rode the arousals. His body’s muscles constricted, and his chute muscles tightly gripped the Saracen’s hard cock.

The Saracen groaned just as loudly and his body quaked. With another deep thrust forward and, an even louder grunt, the man slammed into Tristan. As he did, Tristan’s insides felt a fiery wetness gushing into his guts. The Saracen had shot the essence of his manhood into him! Tristan realized he had been breed.

The Saracen collapsed onto Tristan. For many passing minutes they lay there breathing in each other’s scent. Tristan’s cock was still twitching as his defiler’s softened and slowly withdrew. Then the captive warrior felt the Saracen lord ease up from him.

Tristan lay there completely still on the bed. As his body slowly returned from the dreamy sexual haze it had entered and his brain cleared, he looked up at the helmet warrior-lord who had taken him not only in battle but also tonight in his very bed. He saw his own spilled spunk on his body shining like a silver stream flowing from the slit of his deflated cock downward through the valley between his pectorals toward his neck. He had climaxed as he had been taken! The young captive’s mind raced to process the experiences of not only how he had just reacted in this man’s bed but also but everything that had gone before this latest physical encounter with another man.

“I enjoyed it,” he mumbled to the man. “I know now that I have enjoyed this for days especially when it was Hathor with whom I was with. You have truly taken me lord, but I tell you this now. It was Hathor’s face whom I saw as you did so.”

As Tristan internally came to grips with everything he had just admitted the Saracen chief slowly removed his helmet.

“Hathor!” cried a shocked Tristan as the “lord’s” face was exposed. “How,” the captive knight sputtered. “I was to be with the Saracen lord who unhorsed me, not his guard?”

Hathor chuckled softly as he reached down to untie Tristan from his bindings. “You were and have been for they are the same man.” He warmly replied. “I am the lord of these men who also posed as your guard!”

“I don’t understand,” the handsome knight responded as he took in the sight of the muscular body that straddled him. The knowledge that this was Hathor who had mounted him created a renewed growing in his loins that he recognized as sexual desire.

Hathor gazed down at Tristan stiffening cock and touched it as he had so many times in the cell. A soft sighing “ooo” came from the fair-haired knight as he let go any last inhibitions and yielded to the man who had taken him in every sense of the word.

Hathor reclined on top of Tristan as he continued his stroking activities while whispering softly into the warrior’s ear terms of endearment. Gently and without rushing he used the manual techniques he knew would soon have Tristan awash in sexual fire.

“Jesuyes,” the knight groaned as he drifted into arousal. The sensation of this man’s bulkier hard body on top of his filled Tristan with pleasure, and he found himself pushing upward to let every inch of his front torso rub sensually with Hathor’s frame. “How could this all be,” he sighed, “that you are both?”

“I am a leader of our warrior caste,” Hathor said as he ground into the body of the young Templar while experiencing the first bursts of his own arousals. “In my caste we always sexually couple only with the strongest men. Women are coupled with only to produce sons or daughters. We find no shame in this, Tristan,” he stated as he continued bringing Tristan to a sexual peak.

The fair-haired Templar eyes clouded slightly. Hathor knew the man under him was close now to another orgasm. As he rubbed his erection on Tristan’s, he continued his tale. “I vowed to be intimate with only with the strongest fighter and. from your reputation with so many victories. I vowed I would only couple with you.” He nuzzled Tristan’s right ear lobe causing the buff Templar to writhe happily under him.

“I’m close,” the knight hoarsely gurgled as he reached to touch the hardness of Hathor’s cock. The power of it in his hands filled Tristan with desire.

Hathor grunted loudly clearly equally inflamed but still anxious to finish his explanation. “Our rituals in male mating required that I roughly take you in the ways that I did,” he groaned as his own urges clouded his mind as well. “ Everything that was done to you has fulfilled that requirement,” he said as he quickened the pace of his as he masturbation on Tristan’s cock until the knight was moaning in sheer sexual heat.

By now Tristan was floating on waves of erotic fires. He could feel Hathor’s cock ram downward upon his tight abdominals. “Fuck me again,” he heard himself murmured lustfully.

Hathor pivoted his powerful frame and gently turned Tristan onto his stomach. As he entered the once chaste knight, he told Tristan how, during the public mounted ceremony, he had heard the knight’s plea. He had not penetrated him as was customary to demonstrate to the young strapping warrior the depths’ of his love for him. “You asked me not to, and I threw all our traditions to the winds for I found you had conquered me even as I conquered you,” he growled as his hardness pushed deeply into the Templar. The night passed in their grunts and groans of lovemaking!

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