Dark Stone

Copyright for this story belongs to and remains with the author. I don't have any major objection to my work being re-distributed, but ASK FIRST!!!

This is a gay adult story with the consequent language and images. If homosexuality and/or sexually explicit themes offend you then do not continue. If these are illegal in your area, then you have my sympathy, but you proceed at your own risk.

This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily.

I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me -- all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. [email protected].

My heart was racing but I wasn't afraid. I was naked and lying on a slab of smooth stone, but I wasn't cold. All about me was black silence - not a glimmer of light nor a whisper of sound, yet the very air was filled with a sense of anticipation. Something was about to happen and the very rock from which this dark room was constructed was acutely aware of that fact.

A brief tug confirmed that my wrists remained shackled by the heavy chains attached to the solid base upon which I was prone. There was no need for me to even attempt to move my legs since they too had been restrained in the same way. I could lift my head from the hard surface, but what was the point? There was nothing to see, and no light to see it by. So I lay there, prostrate and limp, except for my cock which was throbbing and harder than ever I could have imagined. The pounding rush of blood throbbed in my temples as I waited and wondered exactly what was about to be done to me.

I had no way of measuring time, and it seemed as if an eternity were passing. Slowly my mind drifted back to when this had all begun; back to when I was just another tourist in the rural lands of south-western England. Could it really have been only a week ago? So much had happened since then ...


... I had finished University at the end of November last year, passing my final exams barely, but scoring sufficiently well to earn my degree in Financial Accounting. Boring? Absolutely! But it was what my parents had wanted, and my father had assured me that there would always be jobs for accountants out there in the 'real world'. Having come from a small country town, the big city had lured me into study, assisted by a sports scholarship thanks to my cycling, which had paid my tuition and gone some way to covering my rent in a shared flat just off campus. And being on the cycling team had kept me fit and strong during the three years of study.

When I first left home, the thought of living in Sydney had filled me with apprehension. Not that leaving Temorah upset me - I couldn't get away fast enough! I had worked out that I was different early in high school, when the other guys began to brag about their exploits and their successes with the local girls. Not only was I not at all interested in the female of the species, but I was certain that most of the boasts I was hearing were lies, or at least exaggerations. Yet the thought of those young male bodies - the bodies of my classmates - locked in steamy embrace, certainly turned me on. By the time I was half way through year 10, I knew enough of the world to realise two things: one - I was gay, and two - I couldn't admit that if I didn't want to live my life in exile; not a welcoming thought in a place as small and insular as my coastal village.

Still, the stories you heard about Sydney! Would I be mugged? Robbed? Would I survive? Hell, yes! I loved it! Away from my parents and the small minds of my colleagues back home, I was able to explore myself and the world. Sydney opened my eyes, and my legs. I discovered a whole new world which revolved around the night-clubs and bars of Oxford Street. I learned the delights of man-on-man sex, and I partied hard. My athlete's body drew men to me like moths to a flame, and I revelled in the attention while managing to keep up my grades just high enough to get through the curriculum of my degree, and all the while keeping my true feelings from my family who were far enough away to visit but not know how I really lived.

But my time of being a student was over. I spent that first Christmas and January back at home, enjoying the summer heat and working on my tan, my parents bragging to all their friends about their bright young son who was now a university graduate. As the weather began to cool I became restless, needing something. Two things actually, a job and a good fuck. But neither was coming my way and my temper got shorter with the days.

My mood improved a little when my folks presented me with their graduation gift - a return ticket to London and a cheque for $5,000.00.

"Get out and have some fun!" my father declared.

"Yes, enjoy yourself, Nathan," added Mum. "It'll be a long while before you'll be able to go overseas again."

Yet even this didn't brighten me much. I was soon back in the glums, still searching for the employment that would give me independence, and still very much in need of some sexual release. I needed a man - a big, strong man - to hold me and excite me. I needed to feel his body between my legs, his cock in my arse.

"Why don't you start planning your trip?" my mother asked one day, trying to break the mood I was in.

"Sure, son," chimed in Dad. "After all, you'll need to get back to reality then. Find a job and settle down. You're an adult now!"

I snorted derisively at that comment.

"What?" he asked, confused by my reaction. "Is that so hard to imagine? There are plenty of lovely young ladies you could be keeping company with - Debbie Flynn for one ..."

I laughed out loud this time. "I'm not interested in Debbie Flynn!"

"Then what about Laura Johnson, or Michelle Samuels?"

"Or Trudy ... you know, the butcher's daughter?" my Mum added.

All the irritation and annoyance I had been carrying for weeks finally exploded. "For god's sake, can't you see? I'm not interested in Laura, or Michelle, or any of the others! I'm not interested in girls, dammit. I'm gay!"

I don't know what reaction I had expected. Yelling maybe, or guilt, or something. I thought I was ready with all of the usual arguments you hear about what people say to their parents when they finally come out. But what I got was nothing. Both of my parents simply stood there, not moving, not saying a thing, as if they were frozen on the spot.

"Mum, Dad, did you hear what I said?"

My mother simply looked sideways at my father, then turned on her heel and walked out of the room. I looked to him for some kind of answer, but he stood there for an eternity looking at me but not seeing me. Finally, he took a long breath, and began to speak in a voice so low I had to strain to hear, his tone like ice.

"I see," he almost hissed. "We try to give you everything and this is how you reward us?" I began to protest but he held his hand up to my face to silence me. "You could have had a good life here, a normal life, but you choose some perverted alternative way ..."

"Dad, it's not something you choose ..."

He turned his back on me, raising his voice only a little. "I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!" Again I struggled to make out his words, but they were clear enough. "Get out! Your mother and I have given you a home, an education. We would have helped where we could, but not if you want to be something filthy. Get out now, and don't come back!"

With that he just walked away from me, leaving me standing there alone and dumbstruck. My anger rose to the surface, and I stormed into my room, gathered some clothes and other personal items, and threw them in a bag before charging out of the house and slamming the door as hard as I could manage behind me. I wasn't scared, I wasn't bewildered, I was furious. How could they be so unfeeling?

I headed straight for the station and bought myself a ticket to Sydney, then sat and waited the two and a half hours before the train arrived, fuming the entire time. My brain raged against the injustice of their words all the way into the city as I told myself I could get by just fine without them. By the time I had disembarked and found my way to a cheap motel just off the gay 'golden mile' of Oxford Street, I was determined that they would have to apologise on their knees if I were ever to go back there again.

For the next month, I partied. I drank and danced in all the clubs and bars, going home with whomever happened to be available at the time. I told myself I wad doing just fine, but it was soon clear that something was missing. I had always belonged somewhere, to someone. My folks may have been boring bucolic types, but I was theirs! It occurred to me late one night when my latest trade was crawling out of bed and cleaning himself up after having just fucked me hard and long.

"Why don't you stay the night?" I asked plaintively.

"Ha," he grinned. "Thanks, but sorry. I have to get an early start tomorrow. Catch you around!"

"Give me a call?" I almost begged, scribbling a phone number on a scrap of paper.

"Umm, yeah, sure," he said as he shoved it into his pocket and left. I could practically see him screwing it up and dropping it in the gutter before my door had closed behind him. I needed someone - someone to be there in the morning, someone to look after me and tell me what to do. Someone to love me.

The next day I convinced myself that my family would have calmed down by now, and I found a public phone and fed the coins into it, listening nervously as the tones rang at the other end. My father answered.

"Dad! It's me, Nathan ..." That was all I got to say, before he cut me short.

"I don't know anyone called 'Nathan'," he said, and simply hung up. He didn't slam the phone down, or shout or anything, just carefully hung up on me!

I was distraught. They were serious! They didn't want me. What was I going to do? I tried to re-assess my situation. With the money they had given me, and what I had put away during vacation jobs over the last three years, less what I had spent so far, I had around $7,000.00 in the bank, plus a handful of clothes - mostly jeans and T-shirts. And an airline ticket to Europe.

Most people in my situation would have realised they were in trouble. Most people would have cashed in the ticket and started doing some serious job hunting while they cut their spending to the bone. Me? I went out and bought myself a comfortable back-pack, then booked a reservation on a flight to England for a few days later. If no-one in the entire country wanted me, then I'd just leave the country!

And so I found myself in London. It was a big city, but very expensive, and after Sydney, so grey and dull. I only stayed a few days in the Capital before making my way south and west into the ancient lands of Cornwall, where I was fascinated by the endless displays of medieval buildings, imposing castles and ruined, deserted monasteries. Whilst at home winter was growing, here in the northern hemisphere, May was bringing warmer weather and more often than not I found myself bunking down within the sheltering, protective walls of some abandonned structure. I actually took comfort from the stone around me - it was somehow permanent and had withstood the test of time, and therefore it could easily protect me.

It was on just such a night that I had met Arthur. The day had been warm and the evening mild, so I had thrown my backpack into a small clearing against the outer walls of some unidentified building. The structure itself was in ruins, but still stood proud and mighty, upon a low hill, lording itself over the surrounding farm lands. I guessed that there was no-one around and I had stripped off and washed myself down in a small brook of fresh water before casually wandering back up the hill to where I had left my belongings. He was sitting calmly on a stone ledge near my pack, completely naked and openly appraising my body as I walked up the hill. I felt momentarily vulnerable, sputtering a nervous greeting as I tried to cover myself with my hands.

"Do not hide your beauty, I pray," he had said.


"To cover the work of the ultimate Master is wrong. There is no shame in offering His work for inspection," he said in an even, almost chanting tone. "See, I too display the gifts He has bestowed."

With that he had stood upright, spreading his arms wide. His muscular frame formed a double 'V' from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist, the same shape inverted from his mid-section to his widely spread legs. And at his groin, a beautiful, long penis hung over large testicles. A silver ring glistened where it appeared to stream from the head of his cock. With one look, I grew instantly hard, reddening as I did, but he smiled softly and nodded his approval at my reaction ...


... a thudding noise disturbed my reminiscence. Still I was chained to the slab of rock, spread-eagled but not uncomfortable, my flagging prick springing back to full erection once more. There it was again - a soft thud - like a single muffled drum beat. My ears strained as my eyes worked in vain to see anything at all in the absolute darkness. Again, the thudding noise, echoing now in the empty cavern. And again, until it became a regular beat, and my heart thumped in my chest in time to the quiet sound. Then another, different noise, the rustle of movement and the occasional clink of metal, from somewhere nearby yet not inside the room where I was bound to the stone. As I lay there waiting, anticipating I knew not what, slowly a glimmer of light from somewhere behind me. I lifted my chest and threw my head back as best I could.

The illumination grew slowly, and the swishing noises increased as the thudding drum beats came closer and closer, until the flame of a candle suddenly appeared from some kind of hallway behind me. Then another and another, the bearers of those tapers hidden in long robes which seemed to glisten in the soft light. Only the hands which carried the burning flames could be seen, everything else covered by the dark material which hung from their shoulders, and gathered into hoods over the heads, pulled forward and down so that even the faces were lost in shadowy blackness. Each one moved forward to just above my head and then turned, alternating to my left and right and moving back to the outer edge of the cavernous room.

I could see now that it was a circular space, the ceiling lost somewhere in the inky blackness above me. But my mind was concentrating on the forms making their way around me. 9, 10, 11, I counted before they were assembled. As they passed me by I realised why their cloaks seemed to shine - they were made of leather; polished, oiled leather which reflected the flickering candle-light and threw long shadows against the walls as they moved to take up positions. Eleven forms in dark hide now surrounded me, one directly between my legs, and five on either side, forming a circle of bodies with a gap in the ring immediately behind my head. And still the heavy, muffled drum beat went on, coming from the same passage the faceless men had exited.

Then the beat of the drum stopped and all was silent again for a moment, before the rustling noise restarted. Once again it was coming from the opening in the wall behind me, and once again the soft glow of candlelight heralded the arrival of more black-cloaked figures. This time, as I swivelled my neck to see what was happening, the candles held by the dark figures appeared dark themselves, and I realised that they too were black - black wax sticks in the shapes of penises, the bright orange flames glowing at the shining heads of the fake cocks. This time, the figures did not come up to me, but moved silently to form another circle behind that already created by the first group. Again, eleven shadowy forms made their way into the room, alternating to the left or the right and moving to stand upon a raised platform immediately behind those already waiting. But this time the gap in the circle was left directly in front of me, so that if I raised my head and looked between my legs, I could see a solitary figure standing in the inner ring, holding a white candle. When I dropped my neck and looked backward, the eleventh of the newcomers stood alone behind the space left in the first circle.

So I lay there surrounded by these men. Five couples on other side, white candles in front of black candles, forming a circle, with a single white candle in front and a sole black candle behind. Twenty-two men stood around me, cloaked and hidden, while I lay there bare and exposed, legs and arms spread, my body available for inspection. Arthur would be one of them, but which one? They became completely silent and simply stood there in vigil as I lay against the warm stone and fought the urge to twist around and look to them. For what seemed an eternity I lay there. Arthur had told me there would be rites of passage, but could not tell me what form they would take. Which of these was he? I let my mind return to that first meeting with him ...


... he had reached out to me, that evening as I blushed in my nakedness on the hill, outside the walls of the deserted building. He had looked at me with the approval of a teacher, the gentleness of a father, and yet the desire of a lover.

"Be not ashamed of your body, nor of your natural reaction to me," he intoned. "I am praised that you find me attractive, and this ..." he reached forward and ran a finger along my erection, making me shiver and jump with delighted surprise. "... this honours the gifts granted me by the one Master."

I smiled back at him then, a little bemused by his strange language and forthright approach, but becoming very much interested in what I assumed he was offering. And as I looked, his own tool grew into life, lengthening lazily and stretching down then out a little as it filled with blood. My grin widened.

"Well, mate," I said, finding my voice. "You sure don't muck about, but I like the way you make a visitor feel welcome!" With my heart beating faster, I dared to reach out my hand and let my fingers brush across his hard, defined chest before falling to his crotch, where my hand wrapped easily and lightly around his now semi-hard dong. It was velvety smooth, silky to the touch but covering a rod of steel and my own cock ached with the anticipation of what was to come.

"You are not of this land?" he asked, his voice unchanging in tone or volume, always a soft chant.

"Nah," I replied breathily, my throat dry with growing lusty need. "I'm from Australia, just here on a holiday."

"Terra Australis - the South Land" he nodded.

"Umm, yeah," I answered absently. That sounded right, from my memory of high school history classes. And then all thoughts of school deserted me as his right hand closed around my prick and the fingers of his left reached out and pinched at my right nipple. I threw my head back and uttered a guttural growl of pleasure.

"So, 'Man of the South'," he went on while he played with my body, his grin widening. "You are 'homo australis' in the old tongue, and what is it that you come seeking in this sacred place?"

"Huh?" I said, barely registering that he had asked a question.

"What may I, a humble servant of Priapus Dominus offer to you at this time?"

I looked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment as his hand slid up and down my aching tool. Wasn't it obvious what I wanted? My rasping throat found voice once more.

"Let's fuck, mate. You are driving me wild," I stated without much finesse.

"Indeed!" He laughed loud now, a laugh of knowing and of power. "We shall offer our union to the lords of pleasure, and share our bodies in the sight and the glorification of the true Master."

I opened my eyes to look around, to see if we were indeed within anyone else's sight, but there was no-one around. I started to ask what he meant, but was silenced by his lips closing over mine as his arms pulled me against him. I melted away, lost in the ecstasy of passionate lust and the delight of his attentions.

I could not repeat now what exactly we did that night, but I do know that it was the most exciting, explosive, ecstatic experience I had ever known until that time. I recall the feeling of his hands upon my skin - everywhere. And his lips. It was as though twenty mouths caressed me, yet there was only the two of us there. I tried to follow his lead, attempted to give back to him even a modicum of the pleasure I received, but my efforts were pitiable echoes of his motions. It was as though his body was against mine, and around me, drawing me in until I became part of him. I could feel his arms around my back, his legs squeezing mine. He was hard - not just muscled but like stone - as though one of Michelangelo's marble sculptures had come to life, a thin layer of warm silken skin sprayed over the ultimate male body, and a light dusting of soft downy hair added to complete the perfect incarnation of masculinity.

I struggled to emulate his attentions, my hands travelling across his expansive shoulders and down his back to the rounded globes of his arse, my mouth licking and biting at the nubs of his tits and tracing the ridges of his abdomen, but nothing I did could compare to the art of his sensuous attack on me. Yet he was certainly aroused. When my hands found his cock, I gasped with surprise. Between his legs a massive weapon had arisen, standing vertical and throbbing with life, but hard as steel wrapped in velvet, the crown pierced by silver. It must have been at least 25 centimetres long [ten inches in the old measurements] and so thick my thumb would not meet my forefinger when I closed my hand around it. I looked into his eyes at my discovery and he simply smiled back at me and continued to administer his special magic. And through it all he seemed to chant; a humming deep in his throat when his mouth was 'otherwise occupied'; or a whispered incantation the rest of the time. The words were indiscernible, but somehow both soothing and empowering. Before long I gave up my attempts at making this a joint project and surrendered to this master of lovemaking who enraptured me.

Carried away on the waves of bliss, I felt the passion surge and ebb many times during the evening as he built me up to the point of explosion, only to ease me back and leave me hungry for more. His skill was indescribable as I became mere putty in his hands, the grateful recipient of immense pleasure. When he actually took my cock into his mouth I do not know, but at some point I became aware that my manhood was engulfed in the most incredibly warm, moist heaven. He suckled lightly before massaging my prick with his throat, sending waves of joy up and down my tool. When my climax hit me, it took me by surprise, as I simply rode with the flow of release, my body twitching and jerking as my balls exploded. The amazing mouth affixed to my groin continued its caresses, milking me dry and swallowing every drop of my essence, draining me of not only my cum, but my very strength.

Emptied as I was, I remained hard - another first for me. My partner continued his erotic play, building me to new heights when I thought I would need days to recover. With seeming ease, he lifted me bodily, and sat me down upon his legs, still chanting the lilting words he had repeated over and over since we began. By reflex, I spread my legs over his, and felt the solidity of his erection nudge at my exposed pucker. Suddenly I recalled the size of the monster he wielded and I baulked.

"No," I hissed, unwilling to dissuade him from the attention he was lavishing upon me. "There's no way I can take you! I've never been fucked by someone with a piercing before, but I couldn't take a cock the size of yours anyway."

He smiled softly, and broke off from his murmurings for the first time since we had begun.

"Think not of the past," he reassured me. "Forget your preconceived limits and throw off your inhibitions. The Master smiles upon our union and rejoices in your subservience. He will guide you through and ease the way for you to accept Him."

I still had enough of a hold on my senses to protest once more. "I'm telling you, there is no way I can do it. You'll split me in half!"

"No, my young 'Australis'," he smiled again. "You're body will welcome The Lord Priapus. You want Him. You need Him."

"My name is Nathan, not Australis. And if you want to give your cock high and mighty names, that's fine by me, but I just can't do it. Not that I don't want to, but there is no way I could take this ..." I hissed as I looked down between us to his raging masculinity. If anything it seemed to have grown even more, and was shiny slickly with a heavy coating of pre-cum which had covered the rounded head and most of his huge shaft.

His hands lifted my face until my eyes focused on his, and he smiled again. The words of his chant re-started, soft and insistent and I felt myself melt again in his grip, a sense of joy and surrender pervading my body and my mind. Apparently oblivious to my weight, he lifted me again, re-positioning himself so that our bodies pressed together and again I felt the cool steel of his piercing and the hard heat of his cockhead nudging at my rear. I started to renew my protestations, but his mouth closed over mine and an incredible sense of longing filled me. I clenched my arse tight against the invader and he stopped, seeming to accept my limitations, but his erection stayed in place, kissing the tender skin of my outer sphincter.

I wanted it - I wanted him - so badly. My body craved to be filled with his raging fleshy sword, but my mind resisted, determined that I could not do it. Yet it felt so good, just resting there against me. I felt so empty, and somehow I knew that the only thing which could fulfil me, the only thing which could make me complete, was the massive prong begging entrance at my hole.

"Promise me you'll stop if it gets too much?" I pleaded with him as my resolve evaporated.

He didn't break his murmuring chant, but he looked into my eyes and nodded assent as he smiled once again.

Tentatively, I allowed myself to relax, just a little, and as I did, the very tip of his cock pressed into my ring of muscle. I could feel the shape of his piercing, and the fullness of his flesh. There was discomfort, but so much promise in what he offered. The pitch of his incantation deepened, my inhibition retreated a little more, and again I opened myself. Pain, yes, but not that much - no more than I had often known on first penetration. I sensed rather than felt my anus open to admit him, and somehow knew I was being stretched without damage. An involuntary flinch caused him to stop and wait until I was ready again, and then once more he began to move, and once more the pain came, but only a little, and with it incredible pleasure.

With no more indication than a momentary pause in his recital, and the slightest of upward motion, his cockhead slid into me and my rectum closed around his glans. I groaned, partly from the pain but mostly from the sense of being filled, and as I did he leaned forward and placed his lips against mine, still murmuring his meaningless words. The last remaining vestige of conscious thought in my brain told me that I was opened beyond belief, that the head of his cock felt like a tennis ball lodged in my arse, yet the pain was already dissipating, and replacing it was a spreading, growing warmth radiating out from my anus to fill my entire body.

His tongue played with my own, and I couldn't be sure if he was kissing me or singing his words into my lungs, but my body became alive again, and I surrendered once more to the intense pleasure he provided. I felt movement at my rear, and knew his cock was sliding slowly into my bowel, but I felt nothing except joy. For what seemed like hours he continued to enter me, lowering my opened body onto that tower of rock hard muscle. As his cockhead with its metal adornment nudged at and scraped past my prostate, I ached with ecstatic bliss, and then allowed the massive organ to fill me completely. When finally I found myself sitting against his legs, I was certain his cock was pushed up into my stomach, and marvelled that I had not been split by that giant log. And the sensation! I was filled with him, filled with joy, and filled with excited lust. It was the most intense and exquisite feeling I had ever known, to be impaled upon his living sword.

He began to move, and the bliss which could not have been bettered was surpassed instantly. The friction of his member through my ring and within my body, the warmth of his filling me, the aching ecstasy of his fucking me, was without comparison and beyond description. For hours he fucked me - slowly and gently, then increasing to a driving pounding hump before backing off to a slower rhythm again. Over and over I was sure I was going to blow my top, and he would bring me back again; every thrust of his body into mine seemed to inject a power into me, a strength and a delight which made me want more.

When finally we reached orgasm it happened together. He pounded himself into me, bringing me to the brink of explosion, and as I began to convulse, shooting my second load of jizz across his chest, he fell backward, his body completely still, but I felt his cock spasming deep inside me as he poured his essence into me. For minutes he continued, and I was sure he must have filled me with litres of his juice, expecting it to pour out of me any second. Yet when he finally relaxed, silent at last, and carefully lifted me from himself with a grinning look, no leakage seeped from me - my body had taken it all, drunk it in and absorbed it.

I felt tired, but not drained. Filled and fulfilled, re-invigorated yet exhausted. He held me in his arms as I curled back into him and closed my eyes, drifting into a deep and restful sleep ...


... I must have begun to drift towards slumber despite my bounds and my audience, for with surprise I realised that the silence was being filled. The black garbed figures surrounding me had begun to whisper - a chant similar to but not identical with the one Arthur had used that first night. I struggled not to make out the words. They sounded vaguely Latin, but I could not follow them.

" ... priapus dominus primo ... arcturis dominus ultimo ... australis subserviens proximo ..."

I listened uncomprehendingly. One word - 'australis' I recognised. It was the word for 'south' which Arthur had used to refer to me several times. But the rest of it meant nothing, yet the men around me chanted it slowly and firmly, without break but with increasing volume and tempo, building to some kind of peak. Then, without any obvious signal, they stopped as one and silence reigned again. But only for a few minutes. Now I could hear the rustle of movement again, and the soft clink of metal, yet it seemed to be coming from the floor between my legs. I tried to look down, but the elevation of the stone slab upon which I lay prevented me from seeing anything, until a hooded figure began to rise in that space.

How long he had been there I had no idea. I had not seen him enter, nor had I any recollection of him, yet there he was. He straightened to full height, his face hidden just as were the others, his leather cloak enveloping him in folds of glimmering black. Even though I couldn't see them, I felt his eyes on me, and my cock jumped with the knowledge that I was being examined. I fought the urge to fidget, to squirm away from the unseen stare.

Behind him, the solitary member of the inner circle, the only one without a corresponding outer ring partner, began to move. He stepped forward and placed his white candle on a large tray, then turned to his left and stood in front of each of the pairs in turn. One by one, first the white and then the black candles were held aloft and then placed on the tray as the initial figure made his way around the circle. When he had collected all twenty two of the flickering tapers, he stood between me and the silent one, his back to me, and bowed his head. From somewhere within the robes of black, the one who had risen from between my legs produced another black candle, also shaped like a penis, but much larger than all the others. He moved it over the top of the black candles already burning so that it took alight itself, then held it straight out in front of him. As he did, the single unpaired member of the outer circle stepped forward and around where I lay, reaching down and picking up from between my legs a single, large white candle. Again I struggled to remember when that had been left there but could not place it.

This new participant in the ceremony repeated the previous movement, slowly passing the large white candle above the flames of those already burning, until it caught flame, and then he held it out toward the one holding the black candle. Then the two of them moved to me, and set the two large candles down on the stone, between my thighs, so high and close that I could feel the wax against my skin, could feel the heat of their fire on the flesh of my testicles.

The two separated again. The one who had held the black candle standing below me, the tray bearer still between us and the flickering light of his burden sending shadowy waves around the room. The other one had moved to stand immediately behind my head, his cloak still wrapped tightly around him.

"PRIAPUS DOMINUS!" shouted the one below me loudly, making me jump with surprise.

"THE ONE MASTER, PRIAPUS!" responded all of the others in unison, and with a flourish all of them flung back the cloaks they wore, letting the robes fall to the floor behind each of them.

I turned my head quickly from side to side, drinking in the vision that appeared. At first I thought all of them were dressed identically, until I realised that the members of the inner circle were slightly differentiated from those of the outer ring.

Each and every one of the men now revealed was garbed in the most incredible, arousing leather gear. A shining black half-hood covered their heads, from the bridge of the nose to the base of the neck, and from earlobe to earlobe, with holes cut out for the eyes. Each wore the tightest pair of black leather chaps which enveloped their muscled legs, and each wore shining black boots. All of them were pierced - the kind of ring they call a Prince Albert adorning their cockheads, from the piss slit to the point just below the 'V' of their glans, set off by a chrome cockring fixed around the base of their balls and penises. And each of them wore a harness of hide and metal around his torso.

My prick jumped to full erection in an instant. So many horny, stunning men, in one place, all staring intently at me. And then I began to see the differences. The ten men still standing in the outer circle, together with the two near me, one behind and one in front, could have been identical. The harnesses they wore consisted of leather straps over their shoulders which met at a silver circle in the centre of their chests. Another wide band of hide fell from that metal ring, below the waistband of the chaps, to connect to the cockring encircling their genitals. From the central ring on the chest, heavy shimmering chains of silver were pulled around the ribs, accentuating the sculpted mounds of pectoral muscle. On the forearms, long black leather gauntlets covered them from wrist to elbow, and wide bands of the same gleaming hide wrapped around the upper arms above the biceps, these two connected by silver chains.

The eleven who had formed the inner ring were also almost indiscernible one from the other. But they differed from those in the outer group in that their harnesses were slightly more elaborate. The shoulder straps connected to wide leather straps around the ribs at two metal rings which sat over each nipple, highlighting it. These rings were connected by a length of silver chain, and from each of them another leather band fell at an angle to connect at a third chrome ring over the navel and thereby forming a "V" across the abdomen. From that a strap of black descended to the groin where it was fastened to the cockrings they wore. Their arms were bare, but each wore a collar of hide, set with tiny spikes of silver, around the neck, from which a chain of metal trailed over the shoulder, like some kind of lead.

All of the men, inner and outer, had identical piercings through their cocks, and all had small rings set into their nipples. All of them appeared unusually muscular and incredibly well defined - sculpted chests, broad strong shoulders and chiselled abdomens, and all of them boasted extremely large cocks, both long and thick, obvious even in the flaccid state they sported at that moment. The only other difference I could make out was that whilst the members of the outer ring all sported an attractive, masculine down on their chests, arms and pubic regions, the inner circle remained completely hairless.

I found the entire scene more stimulating than I had expected, and my cock throbbed, hard and full, seemingly the centre of the room and the centre of attention as all of these stunning, leather clad men were assembled around me.

The one in front of me, standing between my legs and a little over the one holding the tray of candles, raised his arms above his head.

"In the name of Priapus, the One Master of All, we gather to close The Circle again. The missing link has been revealed, has been called to us and has been claimed by our brother Arcturis, he who has stood alone these last moon phases. Arcturis, are you ready?"

The man standing behind my head answered in a firm, rich voice. "By the grace of Dionysis and Aphrodite, life givers to the Master, for the glory of Priapus and in His sight and with His blessing, I am."

Quickly, and without thinking, I lifted my neck and looked backward to see him. He was closer to me now, all but bending over my prone body, and I looked up at the hooded face, into the slits, and peered deep into his eyes. And recognition came. It was Arthur, my Arthur, standing there. He permitted himself a quick smile at me, a smile of reassurance and comfort, as the other man spoke again.

"How name you your slave, your complement and fulfillment?"

Arthur spoke again, addressing the whole gathering. "Australis! The One Master has called him from the south, across many miles and many seas, to fulfill his destiny and make the both of us complete. He as been tested and found true, beyond doubt the gift of The Lord Priapus to us, his chosen, and to me, his son."

Hang on a moment, my mind screamed out. That's me they're talking about. But I'm no slave. I wasn't called by anyone, and I don't remember sitting for any 'tests'. And I'd hardly call myself anybody's gift. I looked up into Arthur's eyes again in question, but he had raised his face to the blackness above.

"Then let us begin the investiture of Australis into the circle!" said the other man solemnly.

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This story is a fantasy, it is not real and only happened in my imagination. YOU MUST REMEMBER that in the real world, you can DIE from having unsafe sex. It is your right and your duty to make sure that condoms are always used, whether you are giving or receiving. It doesn't matter how good looking or how ugly he is, and it doesn't matter whether you are top or bottom, USE A CONDOM!