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Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 11A/14
Date: 2020-10-09 05:55 pm (UTC)Trying something different because I realized this ‘tomorrow’ belongs to both of them...
Warning: non-con threats and overtones
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Part 11A
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(Nicolo)
Cairo, 12th century
Nicolo’s jaw clenched as he stood in front of Dirar in the cabin. Badlh circled him like a carrion bird spying a corpse.
“He clean too,” Badlh declared.
A finger permanently stained yellow from turmeric ran down the back of Nicolo’s neck.
“The Frank took a bath,” someone commented from the shadows in the back.
Dirar did not laugh with the others. He stayed seated in his chair, knees spread, one hand stroking the growing bulge between his legs. The other held his sword like a scepter.
“You look better,” Dirar commented mildly. “People in the market commented how Yusuf searched every morning for remedies for his dear Nicolo’s stomach.”
“Wanted to keep his strength up,” someone off Nicolo’s ear sneered.
“We should thank his friend later for thinking of dear Nicolo’s well-being,” another jeered.
Nicolo pressed his lips together. He refused to react to the snickering surrounding him.
Badlh’s finger suddenly pressed into Nicolo’s taint over his trousers.
Nicolo jumped. He whirred around, dagger in hand.
Someone kicked the back of his knees.
Nicolo fell, catching himself with his hands. He heard a slow snap. He prayed no one else did.
“Badlh,” Dirar sounded bored. “You will have your chance later.”
Cold raced down Nicolo’s back. He tucked his broken left hand to his stomach. Bones grind as they healed.
Nicolo glared at Dirar. “You said—“
“I said I would be your first,” Dirar cut Nicolo off harshly. “They won’t be.”
The chair under Dirar creaked as he sat forward on two legs.
“What captain would I be if I were to deny my loyal dock workers a chance to fuck a Frank? It has been a lonely life for many of them having fled the lands Christians stole. “
Nicolo’s chest seized. His insides knotted. He could not speak. He was from wars far past, before many of these men were born.
But he could not deny the crimes he inherited.
“I am expected. If I am not there, he...he will come looking.”
“Do not worry, we will be quick,” a rough voice quipped.
Nicolo stared past Dirar’s ear as they laughed.
Dirar reached over with Nicolo’s own sword. He stroked Nicolo’s jaw with the end of the hilt.
“What makes you think,” Dirar murmured as he tapped the hilt on Nicolo’s lower lip. “He will come looking after we are finished with you?” He chuckled when he caught Nicolo’s flinch.
“Or perhaps you will not want to leave after I am done teaching you, hm? Perhaps you will desire what men like you desire: pain equals to pleasure for you, satisfied by a pretty coin in your pocket.”
Nicolo’s mouth set. “That is not me.”
A hand wrapped around Nicolo’s hair and yanked his head back hard enough to rip a gasp from Nicolo. He reached back and his hands were slapped away. As soon as they fell to the floor, Dirar stepped on both of Nicolo’s hands, pinning them to the floor.
His hands trapped, Nicolo could not kneel without pulling and reveal his healing. He leaned forward on his knees and into his throbbing hands. He grit his teeth as they snickered around him.
Badlh’s hand smoothed over Nicolo’s clothed buttock cheek. Abruptly, the hand slapped. Taken off guard, Nicolo yelped.
“He looks ready,” Badlh chuckled, patting Nicolo’s ass.
Nicolo growled as hands tugged him fully on his hands and knees. His heart pounded. It thumped so loud, he did not hear what Dirar said next, unprepared when he felt hands on him, tugging his trousers. He shook, his eyes glowering at Dirar, focusing on Dirar and his smug smile and not at the sensation of bodies standing around him exposed and on his hands and knees.
“Not you?” Dirar rattled the sword by Nicolo’s nose. “Is this more of what you are? How many have you killed with this? How much coin did you take over their corpses?”
Nicolo felt a hand slide over his buttocks. He hissed as a grimy finger pushed into his hole, pressing in despite his body’s resistance. It burned. He tried to rock forward on his hands but they grabbed his hips and held him there.
“Still tight.” The finger stabbed deeper, twisting then stopped. Nicolo bit his lower lip as the finger yanked out without warning.
“Want us to loosen him up?”
Nicolo did not understand what the voice meant. He kicked back, over balancing but he was rewarded with the wet squelching snap of a broken nose and a gurgling howl.
Fingers clawed into flesh. Fists slammed into ribs. Nails dug deep, spreading him open.
Nicolo’s rage iced into fear. His knees torn as they dragged across the floor. He was roughly positioned, his legs kicked open wider, his trousers tore down the middle. A hand clamped on his nape, pushing his head down and arched his lower back up. He shouted, tugging at his hands still caught under Dirar’s boots.
“No!” Dirar snapped.
Hands vanished. Nicolo struggled to stay on his hands and knees, shaking as he felt everyone back away. He gulped, his chest heaving, the hem of his tunic fluttered against his exposed groin and ass.
The blunt end of the hilt knocked under Nicolo’s chin, forcing his head back up.
Dark, furious eyes stared hard at Nicolo. Dirar crouched, putting all his weight on Nicolo’s hands.
“No one touches him,” Dirar said. He nudged Nicolo’s chin higher with the hilt.
Harsh breathing filled Nicolo’s ears: his and Dirar’s. He gulped air thick with cardamom and overripe fruit. He stared at his own reflection in Dirar’s eyes.
“He is mine to teach,” Dirar murmured. “Mine first. You may teach him whatever you wish afterwards.”
Dirar smiled darkly. The hilt stroke Nicolo’s throat and slipped into the neckline of Nicolo’s tunic. It pressed under the lump under his throat, harder and deeper.
Air vanished. The cabin blurred. Unbidden, Nicolo gasped, choking as the hilt off his sword dug into the tender flesh of his throat.
Abruptly, it vanished. Nicolo’s head was kept up by the hilt under his chin.
Dirar tsked. “I heard your swallowing skills improved. Not by much, I see. We will deal with that later.”
Nicolo glared.
“I know he is tight,” Dirar said low, his smile lazy and knowing. “That is all right. My cock and his blood will loosen him up well enough for everyone.”
Nicolo’s breath stuttered.
Dirar tapped the hilt at the center of Nicolo’s chest.
“Are you ready for your first lesson?”
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Alternating POV’s for this entire part. I think this chapter will have A-D. More later!
Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 11A/14
Date: 2020-10-09 06:30 pm (UTC)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 11A/14
Date: 2020-10-09 09:34 pm (UTC)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 11A/14
Date: 2020-10-09 09:43 pm (UTC)