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The Conqueror
It hadn't been much of a siege, as sieges went, and Darius was gratified that it was over so quickly. He was keen to push through Helvetia so that he could be on the Italian plains by the end of summer. This was the first town that had stood in his way and he had been impatient to make a quick end to the fighting. The towns of this region had gathered an army to meet with his invading hordes, but he had split his army, with Grayson taking two thirds to meet the army elsewhere, while Darius took the rest to deal with the undefended towns. A risky strategy, but one that was appearing to work. This town had barricaded its gates and shouted defiant insults at Darius, secure in the delusion that their armies would fall upon this barbarian and smash him against the walls. Darius had heard the insults impassively but, once his soldiers had stormed the weakly defended walls, had ordered the beheading of every free man in the town. He regretted the loss of the revenue from the potential slaves, and knew that his decision would not please his army, but the lesson should prove valuable to the other towns nearby. He sat now, victorious, discussing the next day's plans with his captains as the town burned. Eventually the details of sentries and latrines were dealt with and Darius relaxed. "Well, let's see to the evening's entertainment, shall we?" He stood up and gestured to the flap of hide that formed the door to his tent. One of the captains held it open and Darius walked through anticipating the slaves that would be gathered in front for his and his captain's choice. The headache that meant the presence of a nearby immortal hit him as he walked out into the night air. He looked round swiftly, but Grayson had not appeared unannounced so his gaze settled on the only strangers in view - the slaves. There were eight of them - seven girls in a range of sizes and colours and a young man. Darius had an occasional taste for men and this one was just his type: slim, with pale skin and dark hair. And as an added bonus, this one was immortal. Darius strode over to where the young man stood with his eyes lowered demurely. He reached out a large hand and forced his head up so that he could look into his eyes. "Do you know what you are?" he demanded. He saw comprehension in the slave's hazel eyes. "I'm many things," he replied. "But right now I'm a captured slave." The answer pleased Darius. "That you are," he said. Then he turned to one of the waiting soldiers. "Clean this one up and bring him to my tent," he ordered and then waved a careless hand at the girls. "The rest you can share among yourselves." +++ The newly-clean slave arrived in Darius' tent as the general was finishing his meal. The remains of roast meat and a few olives were scattered on a plate as he sat sipping wine and nibbling on bread dipped in a bowl of olive oil. He gestured for his attendants to leave and for his chosen slave to stand in the middle of the floor. "Strange to see a 'kinsman' in a slave's tunic," he said conversationally. The slave shrugged. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said simply. "For you, maybe," Darius said and made an upwards gesture with his hand. The slave hesitated and then made a decision as to what he had been asked to do. He pulled his tunic over his head and stood there naked before his captor. Darius stood and walked slowly towards the young man, admiring the smooth, pale skin and the clearly defined muscles. The man was looking down at the floor so Darius put a hand under his chin to lift his head up. It wasn't a classically handsome face, being dominated by a large nose and all planes and angles and bones, but mobile lips and intelligent eyes made up for it. Darius traced his thumb along the full lower lip before moving his large hand down to stroke the skin of the man's shoulder and chest in a possessive caress. He moved round behind the slave, trailing his fingers along the satin skin as he did so. Then he reached greedy hands down to cup the pale globes of the captive's arse before reaching round to grab his hips and pull the man close to him. Darius bent his head to taste the slave's skin at the junction of neck and shoulder as his hands roamed over his chest and stomach. As the general roughly tweaked a nipple, the slave pushed his arse into Darius' groin and rotated it against the growing hardness of his cock. Darius chuckled. "You're an eager little slut, aren't you?" he asked. "Don't worry. You'll get yours, in time." He moved over to the bed platform, untying the belt of his fur-trimmed robe as he did so. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled open his robe. His erection bobbed upwards as Darius leaned back. "Suck it," he commanded the slave. The slave came and knelt beside him and leaned in close to kiss him. Darius jerked his head away, scowling. The slave gave a slight shrug as if to say 'You're the master', but his eyes had a look in them that said, 'You don't know what you're missing.' Nonetheless, he bent his lips to nibble and torment his captor's nipples until they were hard rosy peaks and Darius was gasping with need. Then he moved until he was kneeling between the general's spread legs. He moved to caress the magnificent cock he found there. He placed a myriad of butterfly kisses and licks along the shaft and balls while his long fingers laid fluttering strokes along the inner thighs, stomach and balls. Darius' breath was coming in short, mewling gasps under the onslaught of pleasure and then the slave stopped. He gently took hold of the hot shaft in his fingertips and brought it down slightly to meet his lips. Raising his eyes until they locked with Darius', he reached out his tongue and dipped it in the small pool of essence collected at the tip of the penis. He withdrew it back into his mouth, bringing a small thread of essence with it, and savoured the taste, his eyes drifting shut with pleasure. Somehow it was one of the most erotic things that the general had seen in a long time. Now the slave slowly pulled down the foreskin and bent to lick around the silken head. Darius watched the dark head rise and fall as the slave alternately sucked and licked up and down his cock. The pleasure started to build and grow and he felt his balls tightening as he started to reach his climax. Then the slave stopped again, and pulled back slightly. He put the index finger of his free hand in his mouth and wet it thoroughly with his spit. He took this hand, reached down under Darius, and parted his arse cheeks with his fingers. Then he took the general's cock in his mouth again, started a fast, rhythmic sucking and, as he did so, he plunged the finger deep into the tight passage and curled it against the hard little gland nestled inside, rubbing it rhythmically. The sensations were incredible, but what held Darius' attention was that the slave retained eye contact with him. Somehow this heightened the whole experience so that he was almost lost in the olive gaze when he came, groaning, gasping, and spurting his essence into the hot mouth that had captured his cock. Darius lay flat while he recovered slightly and then he reached down and pulled the slave up on to the bed with him. At that moment he was certain of one thing. "You're no slave," he said and captured the man's mouth with his lips in a deep kiss. As their tongues probed each other's mouths and swirled around each other, Darius reached down a large hand and stroked the other man's erect cock until he felt the hot spurting into his palm and the moans into his mouth. The pale-skinned figure collapsed on the bed beside Darius, breathing heavily. "I'm Methos," he said. Darius nodded slowly. He didn't know exactly when, but the relationship between the two men had changed. It didn't seem strange that a man with a name out of legend should be lying on the bed next to him. He leant over and captured Methos' lips in a deep, soft kiss, shrugging himself out of his robe as he did so. Both completely naked they began a gentle exploration of each other. They took turns to learn each other's body with touch, taste and smell. The lessons were slow and languorous, punctuated with bouts of tongued kisses that left them gasping and moaning with desire. They began a light-hearted game to see who could pleasure the other the most and coax out the deepest, loudest groans of pleasure. Soon the rhythm of their caresses grew faster. The excitement and desire mounted between them. The passion burned strong and their bodies shone with sweat in the lamplight as they writhed on the bed, locked together at lip and groin. Darius found himself flat on the bed, pinned down by strong hands at his shoulders. He stopped struggling and looked up, panting into the eyes of his lover. Had he been forced into this position, or had he arranged it? No matter. All he knew was that he wanted, needed what this man could give him. "Please?" he said. Methos' mouth quirked into a grin. "Please what?" he asked. Darius lifted his head inviting a kiss. When Methos obliged, he sucked the older man's tongue into his mouth and swirled his own tongue round it. "Please." Methos nodded and got off the bed. He walked over to the little table where the remains of Darius' meal still stood. He picked up the bowl of olive oil and poured some over his erect cock, spreading it quickly along the shaft and head with light strokes of his hand. Darius bit back a groan at the thought of rubbing the oil along the hot shaft. Then Methos poured the rest of the oil over his right hand, until it dripped with the scented lubricant. He walked back to the bed, his glistening cock bobbing enticingly in the lamplight. He got on to the bed behind where Darius lay on his left side, his movements awkward because of only being able to use one hand. Then he lay in position and captured Darius' turned lips in a kiss as he slowly pushed his slick index finger into his lover's tight, hot depths. Darius' moans echoed in his own mouth as he added a second finger to the first. This time he twisted them round inside, stretching the passage. Methos found the little gland and rubbed against it as he added a third finger. Darius' groaned loudly at the pleasure this man was showing him. Then the fingers were withdrawn and the head of the glistening cock pressed against the general's tight entrance. Methos held his lover's right leg up in an oily grip and slowly pushed his erection deep into the hot embrace of Darius' body. Both men groaned deeply at the sensation. Methos made no other move, then. He contented himself with nibbling little kisses up Darius' neck and licking at his earlobe. It was Darius who could not stand to stay still. Almost involuntarily he moved his hips gently back and forward, biting at his lips to stifle the little gasping cries that came to him as ripples of pleasure moved through his body. Now Methos began to thrust his hips back and forward, gently at first and then with more force as the needs of both of them began to drive them on towards completion. No longer silent, they both cried out unabashed as waves of ecstasy flowed through them. Darius could only think that he had never felt so completed. He lost track of where his body ended and his lover's began as they moved together in the ancient dance of life. Then Methos let go of Darius' leg and grasped an oily hand round his cock and Darius had no thoughts left at all. The sensations became a whirlpool of pleasure and desire and he gave himself up to it entirely. He heard shouting, but never knew whether it was him or his lover as the swirling vortex lifted him and spun him round until he was spurting his essence out in spasms of rapture, fulfilling and being fulfilled at the same time. Replete with pleasure, Darius twisted in Methos' arms and planted spent, lazy kisses on his lips and neck. Then he snuggled into his embrace, having only a few moments to savour being held safe in a lover's strong arms, before sleep claimed him. +++ Darius woke on his side with the warm bulk of his lover at his back. He opened his eyes to see the dawn light filter through the tent walls, and heard outside the sounds of the camp in the early morning. He closed his eyes again. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that the night was over. He had woken once in the darkness and reached for Methos. They had come together blindly in the dark with gentle caresses and murmured endearments. Their loving had led to a climax that had flowed over Darius in a tide of soft pleasure and then ebbed away leaving dreams in its wake. Still with his eyes closed, Darius smiled and rolled over gently so that he could put an arm around Methos. And found that he was embracing a pile of empty furs. He sat up, suddenly awake. The bed was empty and so was the tent. He stilled an impulse to jump up and run out in pursuit. No doubt Methos was long gone. He lay back down again, sorting through his emotions. He felt no anger, and no real surprise, once he thought about it. What he had was a wistful sadness that it was only one night that he had had with his slave. And what a night it had been. He stretched out luxuriously. He hadn't felt this good in years. He sat up again, more slowly this time, pulled on his robe and ambled over to the door. He pulled back the curtain and looked at the view of mountains rising above the smouldering town. The snow-topped peaks looked so near it seemed he only had to reach out his hand to grasp them. Well he would. Darius turned back into his tent, eager now to start the day's business. He had a world to conquer.
The End |
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Freyja's Highlander Slash Fic |