Deliver a Virgin

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Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sexual situations.

Most of the mounted escort riders gathered around their leader were watching the small band of infidels, led by Hugh d’Ibelin, as they rode out of the gate of the stronghold of Belvoir and moved to meet the forces of the Saracens and their allies on the hilltop overlooking the small lake below the Horns of Hattin. The Saracen chieftain, Umar ibn al-Hakam, almost the peer of the great Saladin, sat majestically and comfortably astride his white stallion—a stallion of manhood in his own right.

D’Ibelin’s small force in the saddle of the Horns of Hattin was the last holdout, save Guy de Lusignan’s hold on Jerusalem, of those from the north in the latest of a series of failed crusades. The Belvoir stronghold, sitting high on the heights of the Horns, was proving very costly to dislodge. But D’Ibelin had seen the futility of the crusade, and this parley was to strike an agreement for the infidels to leave in exchange for safe passage to the Mediterranean coast.

The commander of the Seljuk Turk allies to the Saracens, Ahmad bin Malik, could see that Umar’s attention was focused on a single rider—and not to infidel’s commander, Hugh d’Ibelin, riding in front of his contingent. The Saracen chieftain’s gaze was concentrated to near the back of the group of riders, to a young man, riding helmetless, his mane of reddish gold curls ruffling in the wind.

Three of Hugh d’Ibelin’s grown sons had been in Belvoir with him. The oldest, his heir, also was named Hugh. The second eldest, a Jesuit priest, who made Ahmad, seeing the infidel church as the source of all their troubles, grip the hilt of his sword hard in bitterness, was named Stephen. The youngest, the one with the reddish-gold mane, astride a white horse, was Edward.

Ahmad wasn’t surprised that Umar had his eyes on the young man. The sight of him made Ahmad’s blood boil as well. Only Ahmad knew specifically why, although Umar was drawing the attention of those near him, pointing out the young man, and declaring what he would like to do with him—what he intended to do with him if and when he could lay his hands on the young man.

“That is one to spit and twirl on my spear as his sire watches helplessly and then to serve the golden-haired head to D’Ibelin on a supper platter,” he growled. All around him laughed heartily at the image.

Umar’s tastes in dipping his staff were well known in his contingent and were fed by the youngest and blondest of those captured in battle, soldiers or conquered villagers alike, holding off from putting them to the sword in the field in deference to Umar putting them to two swords in his tent—first the legendary sword between his legs and then his sword of steel as he lopped off their heads. Both acts were said to make Umar hard and to spout his seed.

The two of them, Umar and Ahmad, had conducted a reconnoiter of Belvoir’s defenses as the Saracen forces were first arriving in the area and before D’Ibelin’s forces knew they were there. From this very hilltop they had observed a small group of infidel soldiers at the edge of the lake below, bathing themselves. Both had drawn in their breath when they had seen Edward d’Ibelin, naked, rising from and walking out of the lake. His perfectly formed blond body shimmered in the moonlight, and each of the men spying from the hilltop had reached for his staff and completed himself as they watched the young D’Ibelin take his time drying off and redressing.

Ever since, as he was toying with a captive in his tent and in Ahmad’s presence, subduing them with his fist in their faces, bellies, and anal passages before putting them on the champion cock, the Saracen had been making comparisons with the body of the young d’Ibelin. He invariably found the captive inferior. Rendering him bruised and broken, Umar then had quickly dispatched the captive, separating his head from his body with one swift stroke of his Saracen blade, after torturing him with a fist to prepare his channel, fucking him, and shredding his passage with the cruel, vigorous, relentless thrusting of his monster cock.

“I would take more time with and pleasure from the beauty we saw rise from the lake below the Horns of Hattin,” he would declare to Ahmad when he had turned the sobbing captive over to Ahmad after using his first sword to also find relief in the hardness of his cock before Umar took the metal of his Saracen blade to the bound soldier’s neck.

As would I, Ahmad had thought, although he did not have the courage or foolhardiness to reveal that he was as much smitten with the charms of Edward d’Ibelin as Ahmad was.

The deal and logistics complete from the parley and D’Ibelin’s men having turned and raced their horses back—temporarily—to the safety of the stronghold of Belvoir, Umar continued to bore his eyes into the slim back of the youngest son on the white horse.

“I must have him. I wish to hear his futile cries for mercy and to throb inside him, bursa escort to be the first to stretch and split him—and then to give him the relief all infidels deserve. A thousand gold coins to the man who delivers Edward d’Ibelin, still a virgin of a man’s cock in his ass, to me.”

The declaration hadn’t gone unheard by the Seljuk Turk, Ahmad bin Malik. And Ahmad knew that the Saracen chief was deadly serious. If only I could enjoy his charms before he is wasted, Ahmad thought.

And he thought on the matter and thought and thought.

Three days later, when the forces of Hugh d’Ibelin rode out of Belvoir and down from the Horns of Hattin toward the Syrian seacoast, Ahmad bin Malik was there, with his own contingent of hardened warrior Turks, ready to embark for the Turkish coast himself to his own stronghold in Antalya. He followed the D’Ibelin’s all the way to the coast, never taking his eyes off the youngest son, Edward. He saw that Hugh d’Ibelin was being smart when they reached the seaport of Tartus. He split his forces into four parts to take four different ships across the sea to the Lusignan lands on the island of Cyprus. And he placed himself in the lead ship and a son each in the other three ships. Ever mindful of family heritage and knowing that the Mediterranean was not a calm sea in this season, Hugh was ensuring as best he could the safety of his linage. Losing one would not be losing all.

Hugh, of course, embarked on the sturdiest of the ships with the largest portion of his contingent and what was judged to be the most experienced captain. Progressively inferior vessels, soldier contingents, and crews went to the sons in descending order—first the heir, Hugh; then the priest, Stephen; and last, the “plus one” son, Edward.

Marking well which ship Edward had embarked on, Ahmad was delighted with the circumstances. It was far to the Cypriot coast for this day and age and the sail could not be negotiated without a period of darkness. It was a fearsome sail for infidels visiting from the north. It was mere trip to a festival for the seafaring Seljuk Turks, who knew these waters well.

And the sky was looking to form a storm of mighty proportions. Ahmad had often sailed the rocky coast of southern Cyprus. He wondered how much the captains of the ships Hugh d’Ibelin had commissioned on the basis of the least costly the most desirable had done so and how hard they would resist a determined boarding party of hardened and blood-lust Turks—especially the ship of the youngest son.

* * * *

Naked and cowering against the stone wall of the Antalya Castle dungeon, his arms raised over his head and manacled and chained by the wrists to the cool, dripping-with-moisture rock wall, Edward d’Ibelin watched in fright and fascination as Ahmad bin Malik, also naked, towered over him, holding his huge, hard cock in his hand and waving it in front of the young man’s face.

Without further preparation, the tall, muscular, battle-scarred, hirsute—and cruelly handsome—warrior leaned forward, dug one hand into the reddish-blond curls at the back of the young prince’s head while gripping the young man’s throat with the other hand and forced the head of his cock between Edward’s lips.

“Treat it right, or I will have your head,” the Turkish giant growled, Having seen the glee with which the others on his sinking ship had been dispatched by Ahmad and his men, Edward had no reason not to believe him. With eyes watering, he took the cock into his throat. The young man gagged at first at the deep invasion of the thick staff, but, responding to the Turk’s barked commands and threats, Edward fell into a rhythm of giving the staff good suck as Ahmad fucked his face.

The phrase “a virgin to a man’s cock in his ass” kept running through Ahmad’s mind. That had been the requirement, and Umar had said he had doctors, with the powers of magic, who would be able to tell whether Edward still had a virginal ass when he was delivered. No other requirements for the condition of the young man’s sexual experience had been given—although it was a given that he must be delivered as beautiful and unblemished as he had been when he rose from the lake.

Ahmad couldn’t fuck him in the ass, but there were other opportunities. Before he released his seed, he pulled his cock out of the mouth of the sobbing and trembling young man, turned him onto his knees so that his arms were crossed over his head and his cheek was pressed to the cool stone of the wall. Approaching the young man low from behind, Ahmad’s flat belly pressed into the pert orbs of Edward’s buttocks, Ahmad pressed Edward’s thighs together close and commanded that Edward leave them pressed together, which he did.

After slapping his hard cock on Edward’s buttocks again and again and teasing the young man’s hole by running the underside of his staff up and down in the crack and repeatedly across the puckered rim—and being gratified to hear Edward’s low moan and his groans—Ahmad thrust his cock between görükle escort Edward’s thighs, high, so that his bulb was thrusting against the base of Edward’s cock and into the young man’s ball sack.

Thus, reaching around and milking Edward’s cock while he fucked him between the thighs rather than in the passage, both he and Edward achieved ejaculations but the young man’s ass passage had not been violated.

Ahmad covered Edward close from behind and put his cheek next to Edward’s. When Edward turned his head, allowed Ahmad to take his mouth in a kiss, and responded hungrily to that kiss, surrendering to the sexual prowess of the Turkish giant, Ahmad knew the luscious young infidel was his. He only wished he could take him fully. He unlocked Edward’s chains, lifted him up in his arms, and carried him to his bed chamber several levels up from the dungeon.

Over the following weeks, while news of Edward’s capture and availability got back to the Saracen chief, Umar ibn al-Hakam, in Damascus and before an anxious Umar arrived in Antalya to claim his prize, Ahmad held Edward a perpetual captive in his bed and took him in every sexual way he could think of short of thrusting his cock up the young man’s ass—although not being able to do so became a frustration to him.

It frustrated Edward too, who increasingly responded to the sexual ravishment of his body and took up the mantra of “Inside me. Put it inside me.” The inability to do so, of course, only added to Ahmad’s frustration.

But a thousand gold coins was a fortune, and being on the wrong side of Umar ibn al-Hakam would be a disaster.

Ahmad found inventive ways for the two of them to achieve mutual ejaculations in each other’s arms. He turned to exotic uses of their penises. He also unexpectedly received quite a bit of cooperation from Edward.

The Turk worked his way into the exotic cock play exotic acts. He had left Edward in his bed and gone off to douse himself in wine in celebration of the successful kidnapping, having maneuvered the fleeing ship carrying Edward onto the rocks off the Cypriot shore with two of his vessels at the height of a storm. They had boarded the sinking ship and lustily put every man to the sword except for Edward, raping the more comely of them before Edward’s eyes before dispatching then and leaving him fully traumatized and compliant. Until or unless Ahmad or Umar wanted to inform the older D’Ibelin otherwise and torture him with tales of the young man’s ordeal and sexual taking, Edward’s father would believe that he perished in the ship wreck, which, when the storm lifted, could be seen off the Larnaka coast.

When Ahmad came back to his bed, he found Edward stretched out, masturbating himself. Ahmad stretched out beside him, watching. Edward didn’t stop. Ahmad turned on his back beside Edward and joined the young man in working his own cock. Eventually, as the days progressed, the two moved from pulling themselves off to reaching over and finishing the other. After kisses and fondling and Ahmad regretfully demurring on fucking Edward in the ass, he gave the young man some sort of idea—minus Umar’s habit of decapitating his young blond men, many of whom considered that a mercy, after he fucked them and split their passages asunder—of what lay in store for Edward and why they couldn’t fully couple. Sensing that Edward’s interest was piqued rather than horrified by the possibility of being laid by the legendary Umar, Ahmad almost regretted not telling the young man all. But, in the end, given the opportunity, he would dispatch the infidel as well after debauching him and send his head to his father. Only such cruelty would keep the infidels from launching crusade after crusade.

“He’s a magnificent man,” Edward murmured, “But you are younger and more muscular—and more handsome. I wish to be schooled by you.”

“And so you shall be, my little prince—just in ways you cannot now imagine but that will bring us both great pleasure.”

With that, he rolled over on top of Edward, pushed his cock between Edward’s closed thighs, and, while kissing and fondling the young infidel, pumped himself to completion, bathing the base of Edward’s cock and his ball sack with his cum while stroking off Edward’s shaft.

In the morning, Edward woke up on his back, with Ahmad straddling his pelvis and holding both of their cocks together in his hand. While he squeezed and rolled Edward’s balls with the other hand, Ahmad frotted their cocks—stroking them together with one hand until, first Edward, and then he had spouted seed.

Later Ahmad was crouched higher on Edward’s chest and feeding his cock into Edward’s mouth. In the weeks of waiting for the Saracen chief to arrive, Edward became proficient in sucking Ahmad’s cock and Ahmad frequently returned the favor. On this occasion, though, when Ahmad was trembling from the need to explode, he pulled his cock out of Edward’s mouth and thrust it under the young man’s arm pit, holding Edward’s arm close to his body, while bursa escort bayan Ahmad pumped the armpit to an ejaculation.

Ahmad proceeded to use every crevice and curve of the young man’s body other than the entrance into his anal canal to get his cock off, including rubbing his cock on the undercurve of the young man’s pectorals until he bathed Edward’s nipples in cum, and holding the soles of the blond’s feet together as he rubbed his shaft to completion between them. And, there being no requirement for the use of Edward’s cock, he even, on occasion, slid his own channel down on the Edward’s cock and rode it—although Edward made quite clear that he would prefer Ahmad doing this to him, and Ahmad only did it so that he could beat his own cock on Edward’s belly as he rode Edward’s cock and so that Edward would stroke Ahmad’s cock to a completion.

In all of these acts, Edward accepted and voiced the wish for more.

The most refined act they did, one that caused Edward to purr, arch his back, and dig his claws into the bedding, was when Ahmad crouched astride Edward’s pelvis, moved the two cockheads to kiss, pushed the foreskin of his cock over the bulb of Edward’s cockhead, and stroked the two cocks together until they both came, their cum mingling and burbling out of the rim of Ahmad’s enclosing foreskin.

All pleasures come to an end, and Ahmad held out to all of Edward’s pleading, and had not filled the young man’s ass passage with so much as his fingers when the sails of Umar ibn al-Hakam’s fleet were sighted off the opening into the harbor of Antalya.

The time had come when some man’s cock was going to open up Edward’s ass.

It was as Umar and his entourage was disembarking from their ships that, ignoring the entreaties of young Edward, in which he was reduced to sobs, Ahmad put a silver chastity belt into place that allowed Edward’s cock freedom but locked away his anal hole and turned the key.

“You must tell him that you’ve been wearing this, except when freed to shit, ever since I snatched you off the Cypriot coast,” Ahmad commanded him. “Otherwise we both will die.”

“I understand,” Edward answered through his tears.

It’s a pity, Ahmad thought, that this luscious, ripe body will be rendered with the sword after Umar is finished with him. But Ahmad wasn’t a sentimental soul, and this was an infidel. As perfect as his body was, there always were young slaves available to debauch and dispatch. The irritation was that he hadn’t been permitted to totally debauch this one and to break him down with the power of the cock inside him. Yet, Ahmad told himself. He did mean to have his chance at this with Edward, though. It just would take careful planning, courage, and audacity.

One thing was perfectly clear. The saucy little male cunt wanted Ahmad’s cock inside him.

* * * *

The doctor Umar had brought with him was alone with Edward d’Ibelin in a locked room for the examination and affirmation of Edward’s anal virginity. Only the two of them were there and the door was locked by the doctor’s insistence. He had told Umar that, since magic was involved and magic involved complex ritual, the examination could take an hour or more.

“The test for a man’s virginity is a secret and delicate process that cannot be revealed, or I will lose my ability to practice. The forces of darkness will leave me bereft of my powers,” he had declared, speaking in spooky tones and flatly refusing to make his determination unless Umar and Ahmad granted him his demands. “Indeed, the magic will not work if the procedures aren’t followed fully,” he added.

Umar was a deeply superstitious man. He swallowed it all. Ahmad looked on during the doctor’s voicing of his demands with a bit of skepticism, but he had an inkling of what was afoot and now was less tense concerning what the doctor’s judgment would be. He trusted in the charms of Edward and his ability to become a virgin in this quack’s hands. Blonds were like flowers for the bees in the Levant. The doctor was as susceptible to the pursuit of honey as any other man was.

Ahmad’s thoughts went to the blond hairs that circled the rim of Edward’s entrance and how they fluttered as the young man’s hole puckered when Ahmad was using Edward’s body and of how often he’d barely been able to resist parting them with the bulb of his throbbing cock. If it meant the doctor would certify Edward as a virgin to anal penetration, Ahmad would not begrudge the physician the inability to resist.

The doctor wasn’t a young man, but he was a man who had become prominent by taking risks. He also was a man of refined but strong sexual tastes and was willing to take risks to feed those tastes. He had taken one look at Edward d’Ibelin, naked except for the silver chastity belt, his very nice privates hanging out in front, and had decided the risk was worth it.

The doctor wanted him no less than the Saracen and Seljuk Turk had. And he had both the plan and the brashness to take him.

After Ahmad had handed over the key to the chastity belt and withdrawn from the room and the doctor had locked the door behind him, the doctor went to the couch in the center of the room and bade Edward to stand in front of him as he unlocked and took away the belt.

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