Date: Sun, 12 Oct 2008 21:43:43 -0700
From: The Oaken Satyr <the.satyr@gmail.com>
Subject: Stag God Chronicles - The Archon, Chapter Five

Hello. This is the fifth chapter of "The Archon," in the Stag God
Chronicles. Thank you! Please include everything from the line down:

++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hey, everyone.

This continues a new series, a continuation of the Stag God Chronicles
in the form of a new trilogy I'm calling "Light in the Forest." This
first story in the trilogy is called "The Archon."

I'd also like to invite everyone interested in joining our chat list
about the Stag God Chronicles at:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/stag-god-cycle/

Also, if you'd like, feel free to IM me on Yahoo!, under
"the_oaken_satyr".

As usual, involves adult situations, with all that entails. You've
been warned.

+++++++++++++++++++
This story is (c) The Oaken Satyr, 2008

+++++++++++++++++++


Chapter Five: Through the Perimeter

"Are you sure we won't be in trouble for this?" Mathis asked as he
shifted his pack from one shoulder to the other. The road he and
Strenham walked was perched on a ridge, and he was careful to keep
watch of his surroundings, taking advantage of the high perspective.
After all, a pair of lone travelers this close to orcish tribal lands
were easy pickings for raiders. It was, in fact, the reason the Empire
had constructed the road here -- it was fairly easy to spot raiders
lurking in the wilds below.

Strenham chuckled and ruffled the serious young man's coppery hair.
Mathis grinned at him. The miller's brother was crude and loutish to
most people, a tall, thickly built ruffian without social graces or
concern for their lack. Since he'd crawled into the older man's bed,
though, Mathis had gotten to know that he was a kind soul, well-
guarded by rudeness to keep anyone from knowing the truth about him.

And yet, by the teachings of the High Church, his soul was still
condemned to an afterlife of nameless torment in Geheol for his sins.
This thought intruded, unwelcomed into Mathis' day and he looked away
from Strenham, frowning. The older man chuckled.

"Of course," he said, turning his gaze to sweep the area around them
again, a simple precaution. "I told my brother that I'm going on a
pilgrimage. His wife is sure that means I'm off to do some whoring
somewhere bigger. The funny thing? They're both right."

In spite of himself, Mathis chuckled, ignoring the slight ache that
blossomed just behind his eyes. He rubbed his forehead with the meaty
part of his palm and nearly ran into Strenham, who stopped suddenly in
front of him.

"There it is," the older man said, turning to him with a smile. Mathis
looked ahead of them, off the road. At the bottom of the ravine, the
forest grew thickly, with tall, strong trees pressed closely together.
They'd been traveling for weeks, and had exchanged the coniferous
wilds around Marushford for the wild deciduous giants of the Ballain
Wood.

Where the Stag-God dwelt, Mathis realized suddenly, without urging.
Something stirred in the pit of his belly, just above his groin, and
he felt a strange longing like...homesickness. Or the longing that comes
with missing someone you love desperately. It hit him so suddenly that
it even eclipsed the pain in his head for a few moments.

He looked at Strenham, a surprised look on his face. His mentor
chuckled and leaned close to embrace the young man.

"You feel it, don't you?" he whispered in his ear, reaching down to
fondle Mathis' now-hard cock. Mathis smiled and said he did, clutching
Strenham tight. The taller man kissed him on the forehead and broke
their embrace, reaching down to pull at the crotch of his breeches,
suddenly grown a bit tighter, with an anxious grin on his face. He
waved the young man forward, and the two began to creep down the side
of the ravine, heading for the forest.

"I can't wait for you to see the Sanctuary, Mathis," Strenham said as
they carefully picked their way down the embankment, toward the
forest. "It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

The older man stopped suddenly and turned to look at Mathis. The young
man smiled up at him, and Strenham gathered him up in his arms.

"I'm...I'm so happy you came to me that night, Mathis. I've never said
it, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to again, but...you've done so
much for me. So much good. You're brave, and sweet without being a
fool. You mean everything to me, you know." The older man buried his
face in Mathis' shoulder, and hugged him tightly. When he pulled away,
Mathis was sure there were tears in his lover's eyes.

Mathis felt like weeping, and tried for the rest of the trip to
swallow the lump in his throat.

* * *
They'd been walking for perhaps an hour when they heard something
nearby. It was a subtle sound -- merely the cracking of a simple twig,
on the ground to their left -- but immediately, both Mathis and
Strenham were on guard.

"Did you hear that?" Mathis whispered, looking anxiously ahead of
them. He'd drawn his knives and peered into the foliage. He couldn't
quite see anything. He half-turned. "Strenham, I..."

Tall Strenham stood cautiously, a look of fear and chagrin come over
his face. Behind him stood a tall orc, thinly built but quite muscled
in his slenderness. The orc was bald, save for a long trailing
ponytail. He wore a simple suit of boiled leathers, and one of his
hands held a wickedly sharp-looking throwing axe at Strenham's throat.
Strenham had already dropped the cudgel he carried.

"Drop your weapon, whelp," the orc growled, yanking Strenham's head
back by the hair, allowing the edge of the axe to kiss his throat a
little too intimately. "If you do not, I lay open his windpipe, and
then you and I dance to the music he makes as his life flees his body."

Mathis' mouth went dry with fear and he looked askance at Strenham.
The older man looked at him and...winked! A smile split his face as he
tilted his head back and whispered something to the orc. The lithe
jade-hued sentry paused, glanced once again at Mathis, and then nodded
with a grunt.

"Why doesn't he know the word?" the orc asked as he released Strenham,
gesturing at Mathis with his axe.

"He's newly initiated," Strenham said with a smile, wiping at his neck
to make sure the sentry's keen blade hadn't drawn blood. He grinned at
the sentry's lustful appreciation of the young man. "This is his first
time at Sanctuary."

"You must be something special, boy," the sentry said, dropping his
axe into the loop at his thick leather belt, never taking his eyes off
Mathis. "Most don't come to Sanctuary, you know."

Mathis glanced at Strenham, who nodded.

"It's true. Olusku initiated him, and suggested that we bring him to
Sanctuary."

"The old hunter wants you here?" the orc's face split into a grin
around his slight tusks, and he chuckled. "Well, you must be something
really special, then. No hard feelings, eh?"

The sentry extended his black-nailed hand to Mathis, who glanced
nervously at Strenham. The older man was simply watching the exchange
with a smile on his face. It was odd -- Strenham never smiled. Only
here, it seemed. Mathis returned the grin, and extended his hand to
the orc.

The orc's strong hand grasp his own firmly. With a slight yank and a
step forward, the orc gathered Mathis in his arms. The young man
yelped slightly, a low, embarrassing sound similar to the sound you
get when you surprise a puppy, and the orc grinned again.

The overly-familiar embrace was...strange. Mathis had never actually
seen an orc that wasn't a slave before now, and has never spoken to
one. Now here he was, in a deeply intimate embrace with one, chest to
chest. The orc looked down at him and smiled, wrapping his arms around
the young initiate.

His chest was hard and corded with muscle, Mathis noted, and his arms
were incredibly strong, too. He smelled...well, Mathis realized that
he'd always assumed that orcs smelt bad, but the musk surrounding this
sentry wasn't bad. Far from it – it was intoxicating, on some level,
and Mathis' cock immediately sprang to full erection. The orc grinded
his hips up against Mathis' own, and the young man could feel the
thick cudgel in the sentry's pants press up against his cock.

"I'm Tausek," the orc whispered, his deep gravelly voice sending a
chill through his spine. That voice may have sounded terrifying while
uttering threats, but now it was utterly erotic, primal-sounding. "The
Brotherhood calls me the Bull."

Mathis smiled, and stopped struggling. He buried the side of his head
against the orc's chest, rubbing back and forth, enjoying the scent of
him. One of his hands strayed down to cup the immensely thick,
impressive length of cock barely restrained by his leather breeches.
He looked back up with a grin.

"I can see why."

Tausek threw his head back and laughed aloud. He ruffled the young
man's hair and kissed him atop his head, chuckling all the while. The
switch from vaguely threatening and erotic to such simple affection
was quick and Mathis blinked and bit his lower lip.

"I can see why Olusku wanted him here," Tausek chuckled, glancing at
Strenham, who watched the whole exchange warily. The orc glanced back
down at Mathis. "Clever boy, and sweet-smelling, too. They call me the
Bull because I'm originally from the Terrible Horns tribe. Be welcome,
Mathis. I think you're going to like Sanctuary."

Strenham stepped up and wrapped a vaguely possessive arm around
Mathis, and Tausek arched an eyebrow. As they delved deeper into the
forest, Mathis glanced back and found the orc watching them go, a
smile on his face.

"I know Sanctuary is going to like you," he said, then disappeared
into the trees.

They walked for a while, and Strenham was very quiet the whole way.
Finally, as they stopped to eat something, Mathis fixed the older man
with a concerned look.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You haven't said a word since we met Tausek. Even while we were with
him, you seemed...odd."

Strenham didn't reply right away. He took another bite of jerky, and
then a long swallow of water from the skin he carried at his belt.
Moments stretched into minutes, and for a moment, Mathis thought
perhaps he hadn't heard him.

"I just...I don't know."

"Are you..." Mathis trailed off. Strenham glanced at him, his look
challenging him to say it.

"Am I what?" he asked.

"Are you jealous?"

Strenham snorted, a derisive, dismissive sound.

"Jealous? Don't be stupid. We don't create attachments to individual
men, Mathis. We aren't women. We are all naturally brethren, and one
anothers' natural mates already. We don't need to create false
connections between one another, and snap at one another like fools."

"Really?" Mathis said, leaning against a tree. "Then what is it?"

"It was simply Tausek's behavior!" Strenham very nearly yelled it. He
snatched his knife from his belt before he continued speaking. "That
little stunt was inexcusable! Holding me at the edge of his axe, and
tormenting you after I'd already given the word. He was forward and
disrespectful, the way he...manhandled you."

Mathis listened to him, his eyes narrowed. Finally, Strenham sighed in
disgust and threw down his knife, point-first. In a few moments, he
managed to look up and met Mathis' gaze.

"That's not true at all, is it?" Mathis asked. "I was right -- you are
jealous."

Strenham's jaw clenched, and he furrowed his brow, with a look that
was half-anger and half-grief. He looked as though he might either
yell at the top of his lungs or burst into tears any moment. Finally,
he buried his face in his hands.

"I can't help it," he said in a voice strained by the effort of
holding back whatever it was he was feeling. "I know it's stupid, but
I can't help but want you to myself."

Mathis crossed to him quickly, and wrapped his arms around the older
man. He couldn't quite get his arms all the way around Strenham's
powerful frame, but the miller clung to him, buried his face in the
younger man's shoulder and simply held him.

"Let's go," Mathis said suddenly, and part of him hated himself for
it. Strenham looked up at him. "Not to Sanctuary. To anywhere. We
don't have to come here. Not now. Not ever, if you don't want to. I'm
here because of you, and I think I'm here for you, too. There's no way
I'd come here without you, Strenham. You're the only one I'm
interested in."

The older man smiled then, and kissed Mathis passionately. Mathis
returned the kiss, hungrily, and their hands began to roam over one
another. Strenham gripped at him, kneading fistfuls of muscle in his
strong hands, and pleasure shot up and down Mathis' spine like
electricity. He broke the kiss, panting, to look at Strenham, whose
eyes were glassy with need.

The young man stripped away his tunic and threw down his cloak, and
pulled the miller down on top of him, kissing him once again. The
older man's hands nearly bruised him, they pawed at him with such
need, but Mathis couldn't help but groan as they kissed in response.
Mathis found Strenham's belt and quickly pulled the belt out of its
knot. His hands traveled up, under the grizzled workman's tunic and
found his stomach and then chest, both thickly corded with muscle and
lightly dusted with dark fur.

"Gods," Mathis moaned.

"No," Strenham growled into his kisses. "Just one. Just ours."

Mathis ignored the spike of heat that blossomed behind his eyes and
simply shuddered, continuing to kiss his mentor. Strenham was now
sprawled atop Mathis, between his legs, and his half-drooping breeches
were held up only by the man's thick cock, ragingly erect and poking
at the young man.

"You should know," Mathis said, nibbling at the older man's ear and
smiling. "I prepared myself for this earlier. With the unguent." As he
whispered this, sounding all the world like a creature of debased
desperation, he lifted one leg and, sliding his foot along the man's
side and down his hip, hooked Strenham's breeches and pushed them down
off him.

The older man growled, his cock springing free and slapping his belly,
leaving a little splatter of precum behind. With rough hands, he
grasped Mathis by hip and shoulder and heaved, half-lifting him off
the ground in the act of turning him over. Mathis grunted as he hit
the ground, having been flipped over, and he laughed and tried to
scramble away.

The older man was having none of it, snatching him up by the ankle and
pulling his legs out from under him. Mathis hit the cloak-covered
ground, and in a flash, Strenham grasped the seat of his breeches in
his strong hands and tightened his muscles.

The sound of cloth tearing and the sudden feeling of the cool air on
his bared ass-cheeks caught Mathis breath, and his cock sprang to full
hardness. The violence of it, the suddenness of it – the fact that
Strenham wanted him so desperately – it was utterly intoxicating.

Then, in a swift motion, the older man snatched him up by his waist
and drove his thick member balls-deep in the younger man's twitching
asshole. Mathis howled, trying to scramble away, but Strenham simply
bore down, dropping his weight down on the youth's awkward position,
and he crumpled.

Strenham's hips immediately went into overdrive, and he slipped his
cock most of the way out and then slammed it home. The older man
leaned forward, bearing down his weight to drive his cock deeper while
he bit Mathis' ear ferally.

"Your hole," Strenham growled into his ear, slamming his hips up and
down again, driving both air and desire to flee out of his fuck toy.
The man continued to growl into the younger man's ear as they fucked.

"When I tore your breeches, you should have seen it – your hole was
there, juicy and pink, open just the tiniest bit, like it was
desperate to be filled. Oh, how it wanted fat meat, Mathis. Your
sweet, slick, pink hole wanted meat, Mathis, so here it is!"

The older man's cock wasn't terribly long – in fact, it was shorter
than Mathis' own modest endowment. But it was incredibly fat, tapering
from a pointed head to an immensely thick girth, sheathed in smooth,
silken skin that just barely covered the throbbing, pulsing veins that
stood out against its hard surface.

That cock forced his asslips wide as it pummeled him, slipping in and
out of his innards over and over, with a maddening, breathtaking speed
and force. It didn't churn deeply as some cocks he'd encountered, but
its presence was unmistakable, and on some level, Mathis almost
preferred this one. No matter the angle Strenham assaulted his nethers
with, it struck just perfectly within him, nestling down to press up
against his tenderest flesh within, sending him shaking and gasping
for breath as the older man rode him.

It happened so suddenly, Mathis thought he was bring brought to
orgasm. In truth, though, there was pain, too. Blinding, stabbing, hot
pain behind his eyes, and when his gasps of delight turned to cries of
pain, Strenham didn't notice until it was too late.

Strenham glanced up at the young man's agonized face just in time to
see him shriek in terrible agony, and then slump into unconsciousness.

"Mathis!" he cried into the empty forest, trying to wake him. To no
avail.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

If you enjoyed the story, think about donating a little something to
the author's upkeep, won't you?

Donations accepted at http://stag-god.blogspot.com

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Regards,
~The Satyr
the.satyr@gmail.com
Y!IM: the_oaken_satyr