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(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[//This is a work of historical fiction. Do not take it as fact.
This story is intended for an 18+ audience only. Your path may contain sex, violence, death, or any combination of the preceding. //]It’s hot.
It’s always hot this time of year. The sun beats down on your brow and draws musky sweat from your pores. It drips through your beard and down your strong back. The fold under your gut is itching.
Your crew has made camp by the river. Soon you’ll plan your next target. For now, it’s too hot. All you can do is sweat.
[[Take shelter under your tent ->2]]
[[Go down to the riverbank ->3]]
As you approach the riverbank, you notice someone bathing in the rapid water. A woman. She’s nude, bathing herself in the water. Her back is turned to you, draped in a cloak of thick, curly black hair that reaches to the cleft of her buttock, right where the water laps at her. She’s shapely and beautiful, and completely alone.
You want her.
You reach the shore of the river and wade in with your feet bare. The cool water immediately soothes your burning soles. The woman doesn’t notice you at first, as she splashes her curves with fresh water.
[[Approach her ->5]]
[[Call to her ->6]]
You hide out from the oppressive rays of sunshine under the oiled linen of your tent. Your men surround you, close enough together that you feel the heat radiating from their broad flesh. Each of you carries a blade, even at rest, even when you’ve rid yourselves of boots and shirts.
The shade helps some. Your eyes travel longingly down to the cool, green-blue river flowing quickly down below. It looks so tempting and refreshing on a day like today.
Something catches your eye - More accurately, someone. A woman. She’s nude, bathing herself in the water. Her back is turned to you, draped in a cloak of thick, curly black hair that reaches to the cleft of her buttock, right where the water laps at her. She’s shapely and beautiful, and completely alone.
You want her.
[[Watch her from afar ->4]]
[[Approach her ->5]]
You may want her, but you want rest even more. You stay at your camp with your men, under your linen tent, slow-roasting in the shade. You distract yourself by watching the woman bathe herself, splashing water up onto her torso.
Sometimes, she bends over. She’s too far away to make out any details.
You’re drifting off into a sticky, uncomfortable nap when you hear a scream. Your eyes shoot open, and your hand goes to your blade.
You’re just in time to see the current grab the woman and drag her away. She’s flailing, her head barely above the water.
There’s still time. You could save her life.
And then she would be all yours.
[[Save her. ->7]]
[[Let her drown. ->8]]
“Woman!” you call out, ever the charmer. She turns to face you with a look of surprise.
“Woman?” replies a deep voice.
Your expression soon echoes his when you see something you didn’t expect. Dangling between the bather’s legs is a sizable half-erect penis, circumcised in the Jewish custom.
The bather is no less beautiful and radiant for it. In fact, the visage that faces you is ethereal in its beauty, with full lips and long, sultry lashes.
You don’t have much time to admire him, though, as he lets out a squeal as he gets pulled into the current. The water begins to drag him downstream as he flails, kicking and screaming and gurgling.
You’re a strong swimmer. You could save him.
And make this beautiful man yours.
[[Save him. ->7]]
[[Let him drown. ->8]]
You wade out into the river. The current is fast and tugs at your legs, threatening to sweep your feet out from under you. You would be more concerned if you weren’t such a heavy man, with legs like palm trunks, like the pillars that hold up the Roman arenas you used to fight in. The cool water is refreshing as it climbs up your thighs, to your waist.
You’re right behind her, and she hasn’t noticed you yet. The rushing water is loud.
You place a hand on her hip, and she jumps in surprise.
The water takes advantage of this, and she falls into the river with a splash. Quickly, it carries her away, downstream. She screams, but it’s quickly cut out by water rushing in.
You’re a strong swimmer. You could save her.
And then she would be all yours.
[[Save her. ->7]]
[[Let her drown. ->8]]
You dive into the water after the drowning beauty, kicking your strong legs, rowing with your thick arms like longboat paddles. The current which so readily suffocates others does nothing but propel you forward on your quest.
Your blade falls from its scabbard and gets swept away. You lose the wrappings binding your fists.
You keep swimming.
The water rushes your eyes, but you keep them open right above its level like a crocodile looking for prey. Soon, you find it - You grab the flailing body in front of you and drag it by the chin and arms to the shoreline. The bather is limp, possibly (Probably? You wonder.) dead by the time you drag the body up onto the sandy, pebbley, grassy shore.
You get a better look at… Him. The man in front of you. He’s as beautiful as a woman in his features, but his brown skin has gone pallid from lack of breath, and his lips are a blueish tint. He wears a petite mustache and has thick, masculine brows above delicate eyes lined with thick, long lashes. He’s beardless, and his hair is long and feminine, but his chest is as hairy as any of your fellow bandits.
He’s also completely nude.
[[Beat his chest ->9]]
[[Leave him there ->10]]
You stand perfectly still and watch the river take this beauty away. You’re not sure what came over you. Apathy, maybe, or cowardice. But you watch as the bather is dragged under over and over, until that pretty head never pops up again.
Gone.
You keep watching for a while after. Nothing happens. You’re used to causing death, but something about this feels more intimate than stabbing a man in the eye or strangling him.
Back to the tent you go. Your fellow bandits say nothing. You’re still too hot.
The news reaches you eventually, once someone drags the corpse out of the river. The esteemed Torah scholar, Rabbi Yochanan, drowned while bathing himself in the Jordan.
While there were some murmurings of a group of bandits being involved, it never comes back to haunt you.
Except sometimes, in your dreams.
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[TAVA SIYUM]
(set: $TAVASIYUM to true)
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Restart.->WELCOME]]]You didn’t drag him out of the water just to let him drown on dry land. The sun begins to bring a little more colour back to his skin, but his lips are still blue. Kneeling in front of him, you bring your fist down on his chest, right above his lungs.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
The third time, he coughs, river water jumping out of him into the air. Quickly, you turn him on his side so he can cough it all up. And he does, choking and gagging on it as it all spills out of him.
How could there be so much?
Eventually the sputtering becomes dry retching. He keeps coughing, and coughing. Without really thinking about it, you rub his back.
It seems to soothe him. The coughing stops. He rolls back onto his back and opens his eyes in shock.
They’re brown, and big, and shiny, and pretty, and wet.
And shocked. So, so shocked.
You two stare at one another, speechless.
[[Speak to him ->11]]
[[Leave him there ->10]]
You’ve done your part, getting him out of the river. Whether he lives or dies is up to the Powers that Be.
By the state of his prick, you’d guess that Power to be HaShem.
The thought scares you away. You curse when you realize you lost your blade, your best blade. The man owes you that, and he’ll never know.
He may never live to know.
You walk away, leaving him to his fate. When you arrive back to your camp, your brothers don’t say anything about the person you jumped in after.
They just ask about your sword.
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[CHEREV SIYUM]
(set: $CHEREVSIYUM to true)
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Restart.->WELCOME]]]He speaks before you get the opportunity to.
“Your strength is fit for the study of Torah!” he exclaims. You’re surprised by the age in his voice. It makes you notice the lines around his eyes. You are young and spry, around your second decade of life. He must be twice that.
Distracted again. It takes you a moment to reply.
You say the first thing that comes to mind.
“Your beauty is fit for women!”
He seems surprised at first. Then, his eyes close a little, and his mouth relaxes. It’s an expression you know as well on a man’s face as a woman’s - Lust.
“Do you know what else this strength is good for?” you ask him, and he gasps. You’re looming over him now, planting your arms on either side of his body, pinning this beauty to the ground under you.
He blushes, turns his head to the left, baring his neck.
You lean down and give his neck a wet, sucking kiss, your beard scratching his tender, shorn flesh.
He moans. His hands quickly find your hair and tangle themselves in it. He doesn’t push you off - The opposite. He pulls you closer.
You bite down on his neck and suck, then lick, trailing your tongue up to his ear. You give it a lascivious lick and suck the lobe into your mouth. Your hot breath tickles the hairs inside his canal.
“Please show me,” he whimpers, and you can’t believe your luck.
He’s already nude, so it’s easy to tell he’s erect as you’re on top of him. His cock is pressing into your thigh, your groin.
You look around. You’re at the bottom of a steep embankment, hidden behind the brambles and grasses.
You look across the river. There are some distant human-shaped splotches. But they shouldn’t care.
You look back down at the man, his mouth open, his pupils wide. He’s desperate.
[[Take him on his back. ->12]]
[[Take him on his belly.->13]]
You lean down and kiss him again, slipping your tongue into his open mouth. His beautiful lips clasp around your tongue and suck on it, letting you fuck into his wet hole. You’re already erect, but the feeling of suction and his tongue sliding against yours drives you wild.
You wriggle out of the garment that covers your legs without breaking the kiss. Suddenly, your cock is rubbing against his, smearing wet pre-cum against his flushed, pink tip.
You reach down and wrap your palm around both of them.
“Oooohhh!” he cries out, and you slap a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.
You don’t want to share with anyone.
His eyes widen, and you stare into them passionately. After a second, he licks and sucks your palm.
You nearly orgasm all over his prick, his sack, his thighs, your foreskin rubbing aggressively against his cut tip. It feels so… Taboo. On so many levels.
But you can’t stop. You wouldn’t stop.
You spread his legs with your calloused hands, a few fingertips missing. His thighs are so delicate and soft, he does feel like a woman in your palms.
You spit on his asshole. For a bandit like you, it’s a kindness.
His arse is so tight, pink-purple, and obviously virginal. He’s blushing like a virgin too.
You feel like you’re taking your bride when you line up your wet, sheathed head against his little pucker.
He asked for it, after all.
You push inside. The heat and tightness is a blessing, you let out a little prayer - You’re not quite sure to whom.
His eyes shoot open, like he heard you, though it’s unlikely over the wanton noises he’s making. He’s moaning, groaning, gasping, grasping at the grasses that cushion his body.
He looks into your eyes like he sees you.
You can hardly stand it.
You bear forward, shifting your weight into his hips, your dick pushing deeper and deeper into his guts. You’re sodomizing him easily, with your full weight and strength behind you. He’s pinned under your heavy belly, between your strong arms at his shoulders.
“Please, please, please!” He cries out. You forgot to keep muffling his cries, and now he’s begging out for more.
You think.
“Please?” you ask him, the coldness of your own voice surprising you.
“Harder, please!”
You give it to him harder. You fuck into his little pink pussy with a force, pounding him into the dirt. Your knees are getting scraped by small stones. His back must be, too.
For a virgin, he’s taking it like an old whore. He moans like one, and it’s drawing you to finishing.
[[Spill your seed inside him->14]]
[[Spill your seed on him->15]]
You sit back on your heels and use your leverage above you to flip him onto his belly. It’s easy - He’s like putty in your hands, moving with your touch.
You slap him on his full rump, and he slides it up into the air for you. His sack dangles between his legs, and below it, his heavy shaft. In this position, with his face down and his ass up, he looks like your bitch already.
Already?
You ask yourself where that came from.
You spread his cheeks and look at what he’s hiding between them. You spit on his asshole. For a bandit like you, it’s a kindness.
His arse is so tight, pink-purple, and obviously virginal. His bum is blushing like a virgin’s too.
You feel like you’re taking your bride when you line up your wet, sheathed head against his little pucker.
He asked for it, after all.
You push inside. The heat and tightness is a blessing, you let out a little prayer - You’re not quite sure to whom.
He makes a noise of offense, and you slap his arse to shut him up. It works. You lean forward, bearing your considerable weight down onto his hips, his back, sliding deeper into his virginal asshole. He yelps, and you think of the noise he made when the current swept him away.
You get the sense that he’s experiencing the same intense burst of emotion now.
Once you’re seated completely inside him, you start to fuck in earnest. You fist your hand in his long hair and pull him back by it, bending his back onto your rod.
“Please, please, please!” he cries out for more.
You think.
Please?” you ask him, the coldness of your own voice surprising you.
“Harder, please!”
You give it to him harder. You fuck into his little pink pussy with a force, pounding him into the dirt. His knees must be getting cut by the stones. Your left one, the one planted in the dirt, is.
He’s whimpering like a much younger man. He’s lithe like one too. The noises of pleasure escaping from him won’t let you last long.
[[Spill your seed inside him.->14]]
[[Spill your seed on him.->15]]
You can’t take it anymore. You grab him by the hips and drag him onto you, sheathing your sword fully in his wound. And what a raw wound it makes.
“You’re getting bred,” you offer, matter of fact, as you dig your fingers into his meat and hold onto the waves of orgasm that begin to wash over you.
“Please, YES!” he cries, his voice cracking and carrying across the river. The people on the other bank might have heard that one. Without another pump, you spill your seed deep in his guts, painting them sticky. As if on cue, you see his balls contract, and his cock bursts onto his belly.
After a moment, you pull out, panting. His ribs are expanding and contracting heavily too. You’re both spent.
[[Threaten him.->16]]
[[Lie down next to him.->17]]
You need to mark this beautiful man as yours. You pull out of his guts without much fanfare, leaving him mewling in your wake, leaning back into your absence.
He’s gaping.
“I’m going to paint you white, bitch,” you promise. You jack your cock once, twice, thrice. It doesn’t take much to finish you off.
You shoot your load onto him. It lands on his full sack, which twitches and tugs up at the sticky semen splattering it. A moment later, he cums too, all over his belly, completely untouched.
It’s deeply gratifying. You pant. His ribs are expanding and contracting heavily too. You’re both spent.
[[Threaten him.->16]]
[[Lie down next to him.->17]]
The tenderness in your heart scares you. It was never becoming of a robber. You try to wipe his words from your memory - That he thinks you could study Torah.
What does that even mean, when an old man tells you that before you sodomize him?
He clearly hasn’t been studying very hard.
He seems like the kind of man who’d say anything. A big mouth.
You reach for your blade- To keep him quiet- and find it missing.
“Shit,” you curse. That was your best sword.
“Huh?” he asks blearily, sounding blissfully post-orgasmic. You say nothing. “Oh, sorry. I suppose that comes with the territory, huh?” he continues.
“Huh?” it’s your turn to ask. You realize what he meant. “Oh, no. It’s fine, actually. I just- Uh.”
You take a steadying breath.
[[“I should go.”->18]]
[[Lie down next to him.->17]]
You collapse into the dust next to the man. You can’t look away from him. Your hand trembling, you reach out and stroke his lips.
He kisses your fingers. As if he’s been avoiding it, he makes eye contact with you. His intense gaze burns into you, makes you feel completely nude.
You remember you are completely nude. But he makes you feel even more laid bare than anyone ever has. He presses a final kiss to your scarred fingertips, not shying away from touching the nub of the missing one.
“What did you mean?” you ask him without really meaning to.
“Hm?”
“About studying Torah. You must know I’m not Jewish,” you say, looking down at your own crotch. It sends a strange pang through you, of desire that you had never quite identified. “I didn’t think you lot liked proselytes much.”
He chews on his thoughts for a moment before replying. “Plenty of my students are proselytes,” he offers, clearly choosing his words more carefully now than in the heat of the moment.
[[“Students?”->19]]
[[“I should go.”->18]]
“I should go,” you say regretfully. He looks up at you with big, baleful eyes. They’re so beautiful, you can hardly take it. You look away.
“Sorry,” you mumble, standing yourself up to your feet. This was weird.
You were just trying to get your dick wet.
He doesn’t say anything. “Sorry,” you mumble again, awkwardly, so awkward for the man you know yourself to be. Your stomach is twisting.
You pull on your few garments, strap on your empty scabbard. For a moment, you think about asking him to pay for a new sword - He looks like he’s good for it.
But you don’t.
You scramble up the embankment and start the walk back to your tent. A shadow has come over the sun, and you feel blessedly cool and soggy.
You never see the man again, but you think of him often. More often than you care to admit.
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[HIBUR SIYUM]
(set: $HIBURSIYUM to true)
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Restart.->WELCOME]]]“Students?” you ask, your curiosity thoroughly piqued. You suppose it puts his comment in a little more context.
He sighs. “You may have heard of me.” He looks so thoroughly uncomfortable about it.
“Try me,” you tease. It makes your guts tingle to see him so pained.
“My name is Yochanan bar Nappaha,” he jerks his head towards the North. “I’m the headmaster of a yeshiva in Tiberias.”
The name rings a bell - You’re pretty sure this is the guy of the yeshiva circuit around here.
You squint.
[[“Sounds like you’d fetch a pretty penny.”->21]]
[[“What does your sefer say about sodomy, again?”->20]]
[[“I should go.”->18]]
“Sounds like you’d fetch a pretty penny,” you say, low and slow. The threat is implicit.
He doesn’t look afraid. He looks at you and squints, scratching his belly. You think you even see his spent cock twitch between his legs.
“What, you’re going to kidnap me? Hold me ransom?”
He pauses.
“Sodomize me every night until the yeshiva pays my dues?” he asks with a smile and a slight thrill in his voice.
Oh.
“You want it,” you accuse. His smile grows, looking filthy and needy. He blushes, a maroon tint crawling up his freckled cheeks.
“Maybe,” he admits transparently. His cheeks are burning, radiating heat that you can feel from beside him.
[[“What does your sefer say about sodomy, again?”->20]]
[[“I should go.”->18]]
[[Ransom him.->26]]
“What does your sefer say about sodomy, again?” you ask, a cruel sense of amusement tickling the tip of your tongue as you look over his thoroughly-sodomized body, still twitching with pleasure. “I didn’t think you lot liked that very much either.”
Though, he sure seemed to like it.
“And with a male, you will not lie the lyings of a woman,” he responds, a certain gravitas coming into his deep voice as he does. You can hear his experience in recitation in his tones; like an actor, like a performer.
You shiver despite yourself.
“That could mean any number of things,” he explains, his voice tired again. “It could mean a prohibition on sodomy. It could also mean a prohibition on having sex with men in your wife’s marital bed,” he pauses, and looks around at the crushed reeds beneath you. “Which we seem to have avoided.”
You chuckle.
“It could mean a prohibition on taking it like a woman. Men ought to take it like a man,” you offer. Quickly, his eyes shoot back to yours.
He looks impressed.
“It could, couldn’t it?” he says, clucking his tongue. “I hadn’t thought of that one before.”
“Seems obvious to me,” you shrug modestly. He reaches up and strokes his hand up your thigh, feeling the thick ropes of muscle hidden by fat.
“You were right, we don’t allow proselytization in Judaism,” he says, his tongue curling around every word individually, choosing them with precision and care. He continues to feel up your thigh. His hand gropes towards your ass. “In other news, I have a younger sister, also in Tiberias, who needs a bridegroom. A Jewish bridegroom.”
“Is she as beautiful as you?” you ask, watching and feeling his hand explore your body. There’s so much lust in his touch, so much lust that you can hardly handle it.
“Even more beautiful,” he promises. His eyes wrinkle in a small smile.
You reach out and touch those beautiful wrinkles. “I find that hard to believe,” you say gently. So gently it surprises you.
“You haven’t seen her yet,” he replies, just as softly. “If you return with me to Tiberias, I’ll marry you myself.”
“You’ll…?” You raise an eyebrow.
“To her. I would marry her to you, myself… If you were Jewish.”
[[“And what would that make us?”->22]]
[[“I can be Jewish.”->23]]
[[“I should go.”->18]]
“And what would that make us?” you ask, still stroking your hand down his freckled cheek. You can’t tear your eyes away from his pretty little nose, his shining wide eyes, his full pink lips.
“Brothers-in-law, I suppose,” he says after a moment. “Friends, maybe.”
“Friends who bugger?” you press, smiling. This man likes his loopholes, you can read it on his face. He smiles back cheekily.
“Friends who… Yes,” he replies. Realization comes over his face, and he trails his hand up from your round belly to your ample chest. “What’s your name, friend?”
He squeezes your tit. You grunt.
You think about lying to him for a moment, but it seems wrong, at this point. You settle for something halfway there. “Everyone calls me Reish.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Reish,” he says sweetly, aching the tip of your tongue and the roots of your teeth.
The ones you haven’t lost to battle.
[[“I can be Jewish.”->23]]
[[“I should go.”->18]]
“I can be Jewish,” you say, surprising yourself. Something soars in your belly when you say it. Almost like the release you just experienced, it’s like a knot untying inside you. It’s like freedom. You can be Jewish.
Maybe, just maybe, you should be Jewish.
He nods sagely. You can see why they call men like him that. He’s as grounded yet as delicious as the sage plants that line the embankment you’re hidden behind.
So delicious, you could just take a bite.
Distracted again. You focus back in on him, on his nearly-black eyes.
“Good. I can oversee your conversion at the yeshiva. With your force of will, it shouldn’t take too long, I imagine,” he ponders. With a harumph, he pulls himself to sit up. Sore from the harsh buggery, he moves like a man of his age again. “Let’s leave at sunset. You can’t have much to carry, can you?”
“I don’t,” you confirm. Nothing that you would need to bring with you to study Torah.
Except maybe the hashish.
He’s looking around at the unfamiliar location, his eyes scanning over the mud, the plants, the dust, the rocks, the water, the distant people.
“Where are my clothes?” he asks.
You shrug. “You were nude when I found you,” you offer passively. He clucks his tongue again.
“What was I thinking?” he asks quietly, as if to himself. He coughs again, and you remember his recent drowning, wiped away by the beautiful sex you just made together.
[[“What were you thinking?”->24]]
[[“I need to find my sword before we leave.”->25]]
You grab him by the scruff of the neck.
“You’re coming with me,” you growl into his ear, playing it up just to watch his knees weaken. It works. He shivers and grabs onto your bicep to steady himself.
“Yes, Master,” he says breathlessly. You chuckle lowly.
“That’s right,” you say, sickly sweet covering up a cold sharpness. If you hadn’t just orgasmed, you might get erect at the way he continues to shiver in anxiety and desire as you prod him to walk. You quickly hop back into your few soaked garments and follow behind him.
You march him back to your crew. It’s a long walk, but your wet clothes make the hot sun more bearable. By the time you reach your tent again, the soles of your feet are burning from the baking ground again.
“Ready to be fucked again?” you ask him brusquely just before you arrive.
“Oh, yes, please,” he confirms breathlessly.
You remember just how nude he is as your men hoot and holler upon his arrival. You walk with an extra boisterous posture as you march him up the hill to your bandit camp.
“Who’s this?” one of your boys asks, looking the beautiful nude man in front of him up and down with a lusting eye.
“Would you believe it? This is Yochanan bar Nappaha, of Tiberias,” you proclaim proudly, “And he’s our next score.”
The crowd goes wild, speaking over one another to commend you on your genius. You soak it up gleefully. You feel Yochanan shiver against you at the hungry eyes of your colleagues eating him up, from the tight, thick curls that line his groin, to the hickies you left on his neck.
You stroke up his thigh in front of all of them. He moans in pleasure quietly, so quietly only you can hear. “Half of you are going to go to his yeshiva and let them know we have their headmaster. Demand as many aureus as you can get from them, and then take any silver you see on the way out.”
He makes a noise of protest. “Not the si-”
You step on his foot, shutting him up. He yelps.
“Tell them that if they’re quick, we won’t sodomize him…”
“...Too thoroughly,” you chuckle. Your men join you in your sadistic laughter, and Yochanan looks like he might faint. You can read it easily on his face - he’s living a fantasy he thought would never come true.
“Do we get some, boss?” asks one of your men.
[[“Of course!”->31]]
[[“He’s all mine.”->32]]
“What were you thinking?” you ask him with flagrant curiosity. You stand up and begin to brush some of the wet dirt off of your legs, your knees, your side. After a moment of that, you pull your soggy clothes back on, fasten your empty scabbard.
“When I got nude? Well, I didn’t want to get my clothes wet,” he says, with an odd tone. You quirk a brow.
“Isn’t lying a sin?” you ask teasingly.
“...Aren’t you a precocious one?” he replies, his eyes traveling up your body appreciatively. You reach out a hand and help him to his feet. You gaze at his body in return, steadying him as he finds his footing. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was a little weakened by first the drowning, then the sodomy.
He takes a deep breath and coughs, standing himself on his feet steadily. It takes a few attempts. “I had my reasons. Those reasons are for me to know. But you’re right, I shouldn’t lie. So I’ll leave it at that.”
You shrug, though you’re still intrigued.
[[Pry.->27]]
[[“I need to find my sword before we leave.”->25]]
“I need to find my sword before we leave,” you insist, feeling the empty scabbard at your hip. You move away from him to walk around, looking around the bank of the river to see where it might have washed up. He looks at you with clear disappointment in his eyes.
“Must you?” he asks, exasperated like he’s known you for a hundred lifetimes.
[[“Yes!”->28]]
[[“I guess not.”->29]]
You step closer to him and put your hand on his hip, stroking your fingertips amorously across his soft skin. He leans into it with a little shiver, like you’re tickling him. It makes you want to actually tickle him.
Your other hand finds the back of his neck and strokes the long hair covering his nape. You scratch his scalp softly. You’re using every homosexual trick your Roman upbringing has taught you - The heavily lidded eyes, the biting of your lower lip, the tilting of your chin.
You hope he’s inexperienced enough to be weak to them.
“What were those reasons, Rabbi?” you ask, the naughtiness of using the title in such a way exciting you. It clearly excites him as well, his cheeks flush red again.
He pauses, and once again you see him speak in that extra-precise manner.
“You were the reason,” he whispers into your ear, reaching around and squeezing a handful of your juicy asscheek hornily. “I wanted to attract your attention, bandit.”
You can’t help but let out a little gasp.
No way.
He slaps your ass, and you’re amazed he still has the strength to make it sting as much as it does. “Are you coming with me or not?” he asks at a full volume, as if he didn’t just reveal the most arousing secret you’ve ever heard.
[[“I need to find my sword before we leave.”->25]]
[[Leave with him at nightfall.->30]]
[[Ransom him instead.->26]]
“Yes!” you insist, offended that he would ask you to leave your sharp, shiny, steel baby behind. It’s your favourite sword! How many necks it had sliced through, sending arterial sprays of blood splattering across your howling face, how many guts it had spilled onto your feet…
Hot, wet, and stinking...
You had good memories with that sword. Yochanan sighs, but doesn’t push.
You look around the bank some more, and don’t see any sign of it. It must still be in the water somewhere. You make preparations to jump back in and search for it, when something hits you. Not a rock, or a lance, or an arrow, but it has about as much force as one.
A wave of fatigue.
You feel tired.
Maybe it was all the swimming, or the sex, or the life-changing decision you just took, but you feel fucking exhausted.
You look at the rushing water, and remember how easily it took away Yochanan’s weak body. The water is darkening as night begins to approach, the sun tucking itself lower onto the horizon, hiding behind the embankment.
It looks foreboding, bubbling fast in its rainy season height.
You just couldn’t. You just couldn’t take the time to find it.
You don’t have the strength.
“I don’t have the strength,” you inform Yochanan matter-of-factly, and you see his worried face split into a smile.
“I promise, you won’t need it where we’re going,” he says gently. He comes up to you and puts his hands on your shoulders, looking at you proudly, like a father.
At least, if you only look at his face.
“Let’s go get your clothes,” you say.
[[Leave with him at nightfall.->30]]
“I guess not,” you say, giving up easily. He has some sort of grip on you, this mysterious scholar, already.
You want him desperately. You want his approval.
Somehow.
“I don’t need it,” you inform Yochanan matter-of-factly, and you see his face split into a smile.
“I promise, you won’t need it where we’re going,” he says gently. He comes up to you and puts his hands on your shoulders, looking at you proudly, like a father.
At least, if you only look at his face.
“Let’s go get your clothes,” you say.
[[Leave with him at nightfall.->30]]
“Of course!” you exclaim boisterously, and unceremoniously toss him into the crowd of men. He moans whorishly loud, loud enough to be heard over the gleeful jeering of your group of bandits. Their hands descend on him like hungry sharks, grabbing at his flesh viciously and hungrily.
You watch with satisfaction as his nude body is groped from top to bottom - His legs, his ass, his sack, his cock, his belly, his tits, his neck, his lips, his hair.
Clothing starts to fly as your boys rush to be the first inside him. Within moments, a prick is shoved into his mouth. He starts to suck inexpertly but hungrily. Your belly tightens watching him slurp and suck noisily at the thick cock pumping into his full lips.
His eyes make contact with yours and widen as he bobs his head like the wanton faggot slut you know him to be. You tell him as much, stringing together a list of curses that makes him turn bright red.
Then, your men fill his hands: He’s holding three rods between the two of them and squeezing, pulling on the flesh desperately. Fingers find his already-fucked asshole and begin to spread it open, and he begins to moan around the cock fucking his face.
You pull your dick out again and join the fray, rubbing it in the pit made by his bent knee.
In such a mob, any crevice will have to do.
The first five men to spill their seed into and onto him, you send them away to gather the reward before the rest of you are even done. The remaining six of you take him all evening and late into the night, his beauty only more radiant in the crackling firelight.
He loves every second of it. Your men take turns sleeping so that he never goes without.
He needs it.
In the morning, you keep using him until your men come back, laden down with bags of coin and silver trinkets. After one last, long fuck, you let him go. Politely, you walk him back to his clothing pile, still lying in the dust by the side of the river.
He’s walking with a limp.
You wait until you’re far enough from the tent before you start talking.
“Did you have fun?” you ask, genuinely curious. He looks back over his shoulder, tossing his luscious hair as he does.
“Enough fun to last me a lifetime,” he says as you arrive at his clothes. He begins to dress. They’re impressively nice, for clothes that have been sitting in the dirt overnight.
“It doesn’t have to be a lifetime,” you offer. “I can come visit. I’m sure I can find you.”
He shivers and gasps.
“Please do,” he whispers, and gives you a gentle kiss, his hand lingering on your hip.
Then, he turns and leaves. He gives you a shy little wave as he limps away, a slight spring in his step.
It makes you smile.
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[KOFER SIYUM I]
(set: $KOFERSIYUMI to true)
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Restart.->WELCOME]]]“He’s all mine,” you growl. You send five of your men to gather the reward, and let the remaining five watch.
You throw him down into the dirt in front of your men, and you can see how desperately they want to touch too. You’re erect again already, after only an hour has passed. His body just does that to you. You’re ready to take what you’ve earned.
You spread his asscheeks and spit onto his hole. It’s open and winking, still well-used from your earlier fucking. It’s easy to slide back into him. It feels so good, so tight, so wet with your semen from earlier. He moans like your little bitch as you pound him into the dirt once more.
“Please, yes, please, yes, please,” he repeats like a prayer. Your men laugh in his face, spit on him, but obedient servants as they are, they don’t touch.
Cruelly and lovingly, you take him all evening and late into the night, his beauty only more radiant in the crackling firelight.
He loves every second of it. He rides your cock like no one is watching, even as your boys take turns sleeping so that they can keep watching.
He needs it.
In the morning, you keep using him until your men come back, laden down with bags of coin and silver trinkets. After one last, long fuck, you let him go. Politely, you walk him back to his clothing pile, still lying in the dust by the side of the river.
He’s walking with a limp.
You wait until you’re far enough from the tent before you start talking.
“Did you have fun?” you ask, genuinely curious. He looks back over his shoulder, tossing his luscious hair as he does.
“Enough fun to last me a lifetime,” he says as you arrive at his clothes. He begins to dress. They’re impressively nice, for clothes that have been sitting in the dirt overnight.
“It doesn’t have to be a lifetime,” you offer. “I can come visit. I’m sure I can find you.”
He shivers and gasps.
“Please do,” he whispers, and gives you a gentle kiss, his hand lingering on your hip.
Then, he turns and leaves. He gives you a shy little wave as he limps away, a slight spring in his step.
It makes you smile.
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[KOFER SIYUM II ]
(set: $KOFERSIYUMII to true)
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[[[Restart.->WELCOME]]]You two walk back to where he left his clothes along the bottom side of the embankment, avoiding as many wandering eyes as possible. You manage to make it back without any problems, despite his nudity and your near-nudity. As he gathers his things, you return briefly to your tent.
“Where have you been?” one of your men asks. You shrug it off.
You dress fully, in even your leathers, for the journey - just in case. Still, you don’t take a blade.
You feel completely naked without one. It’s bizarre.
You grab your hashish, you grab a flask of wine, you grab some poultices you brought with you. Those go into a bag over your shoulder. You replace the scabbard at your hip with a pouch of dried meat and a flask of water.
“Where will you go?” another man asks. You shrug it off at first, too.
You see Yochanan in the distance, clothed in majestic robes, impressively neat and clean for clothing abandoned on a dirty riverbank. He waves to you, and you raise a hand back. You turn to your men.
“I’m going on a journey, and I don’t think I’ll ever make it back alive.”
They raise their voices in protest, concern, anger. But you don’t listen.
“//Vale//,” you wish them, and you walk away. You just walk away, toward the man on the horizon. Night is falling.
When you reach his side, Yochanan takes your arm in his and begins to walk with you up the road to the North. You turn back once to look at your men, afraid they might follow you, blades drawn.
But they don’t.
“//Vale//,” you whisper into the air again, saying goodbye now to the life you’ve known. Yochanan gives you a look.
“No,” he says, “this is a //shalom//.”
(align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[TRUE CHAPTER 1 ENDING. ]
(text-colour:lime)[Chapter 1 ]
(if: $TAVASIYUM is not 0)[TAVA SIYUM](else:)[LOCKED]
(if: $CHEREVSIYUM is not 0)[CHEREV SIYUM](else:)[LOCKED]
(if: $HIBURSIYUM is not 0)[HIBUR SIYUM](else:)[LOCKED]
(if: $KOFERSIYUMI is not 0)[KOFER SIYUM I](else:)[LOCKED]
(if: $KOFERSIYUMII is not 0)[KOFER SIYUM II](else:)[LOCKED]