The Holy Fountain

≈ Ch. 39: HEALING LOVE< ≈

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Who's Who in this chapter

Both Shay (a good-hearted young monk) and Drake (a 40-y.o. Lost Cousin) are shook up after failing their trials, but will find comfort in the lovely arms of monks dear to their heart. The trick that Blain played to Shay is exposed, but a much more shocking truth will be revealed...

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~ (Un)real ~

Slowly, Drake’s sobs trailed off, and Uncle Orren held him even tighter, to comfort him.

Drake, lying naked on his bed, nestled deeper into Orren’s arm, seeking a protection that he couldn’t possibly get from him, as he needed protection against his own nightmares. The Trial he had undergone had a disastrous outcome: now, safe in Orren’s arms, Drake was more than sure that his traumas made him see on Blain’s face a bestial greed that didn’t really existed, and he heard him say those hatred words ‘Hail, O Fountain of Youth’ that Blain didn’t actually speak.

Orren didn’t know what Drake believed to have seen and heard, he only knew what he himself had witnessed: Drake leaping on his feet, screaming and rudely shoving Blain away. Orren was puzzled, because he didn’t understand what was in Drake’s mind, and why he was so desperate, but he didn’t ask anything: he knew that Drake would’ve told him, when ready. He didn’t have to wait for long.

“I’m lost…” – Drake murmured with a tired, sad voice – “I can’t tell what’s real anymore. I attacked Blain because in that moment I was sure he was a Satyr, one of those men that many years ago tortured me. But those men were in their forties and fifties, twenty years ago, how can Blain possibly be one of them? Of course he can’t, but my nightmares dulled my mind and made me see things that never happened. I tried to defy my nightmares, but they’re stronger than me. Today I’ve attacked Blain, tomorrow I may attack you, Orren, or Shay, or someone else. The West Wing is my place, I can’t wear again the blue habit  [1], I can’t go back to my life. I don’t even have a life of my own…”

Hearing Drake mentioning the Satyrs, Orren frowned: “Why did you think Blain was a Satyr?”

“Because he shot at me a greedy glance, while sucking me, and there was such a bestial desire in his eyes… No wait, I mean that I believed to see that greed in his eyes, but of course it was my imagination. And my imagination also made me hear Blain salute me with the same words that Silenus, the leader of the Satyrs, always used before abusing me. He didn’t actually speak those words, of course, but it all seemed so real to me! I felt like I was back to the Satyr’s Lair, and I was at the mercy of those horrible men…”

“Now I understand why Blain scared you…” – Orren commented, pensively, and Drake added: “Yes, he scared me, but what really horrified me was feeling again helpless, unable to protect my intimacy in any way. An orgasm is the most powerful and private experience for a man, and being forced to live such an intense experience against your will is… horrible, just horrible.”

Drake’s voice cracked again, and Orren tenderly held him in his arms: “Whatever happened, it’s over now. You need to recover and rest. You should take a long sleep.”

“Sleep? Giving way to my nightmares? That’s the last thing I want!” – Drake objected – “I feel restless, nervous. Though it was only in my mind, I feel… violated. I don’t want to sleep.”

“I know what you need…” – Orren said in a warm tone – “You need to regain control of your life, of your mind, and… your sexuality. Real or not, you felt violated, you felt like someone else was in control of your intimacy. You need to feel in charge, to pursue your own desires.”

Orren let go of Drake and stood upright on the bed, on his knees, towering on Drake with a mysterious grin. He quickly unbuttoned his black cassock, took it away and let it fall to the floor. Drake couldn’t help but admire, with more than a hint of desire, Orren’s chiseled, hairy physique: he was so manly, so dominant! Handsome, even, with his neatly trimmed black beard and his dark, intense gaze that could become frightening, sometimes, but in that moment shone with a sincere affection.

For years Drake, Orren and Torrance had lived a secluded life, in the West wing, close to each other, shunned by the rest of the Asylum; they shared everything, including those intense bondage sessions that now disgusted Drake so much  [2]. And yet, not once Orren exerted his authority as an Uncle to make Drake submit to his manliness: for all the monks Orren was a Lost Uncle, but Drake had always loved and admired him for restraining his overactive sexuality, out of compassion for what Drake had suffered during his captivity.

Drake, looking up at Orren towering on him, smiled tenderly, knowing that in those years Orren could’ve fucked him many times, but always refrained from doing it. But suddenly his smile weakened, looking at Orren’s powerful naked body. Maybe he was about to exert his authority, now, and exact what he’d given up to all those years: claiming Drake’s ass.

“Please, Uncle Orren…” – Drake murmured with a pleading glance – “Don’t ask me that. Not now. I’m begging you.”

 

~ Two-way love ~

Orren flashed a suggestive grin and reclined on the bed, on his back; and then, under Drake’s astonished eyes, he raised his legs and offered him his most guarded treasure: “What exactly are you begging me not to ask you?”

Drake felt his heart thump hard in his chest and his dick instantly rise to a stiff erection, looking at the muscular, hairy ass that never in his life he’d even dreamed to fuck: Orren was an Uncle, was authoritarian and dominant, and seeing him offering himself that way was mind-blowing for Drake.

And yet, he faltered: “I… I’m not sure…” – he murmured, suddenly anxious, and Orren joked: “What? Aren’t I enticing enough?”

Drake shook his head and said: “Do you know how many times I’ve fucked someone since I was seventeen? Not once. The Satyrs destroyed my manliness, and my member has remained lifeless for years, until Shay – may the Fountain bless him – revived it with his tenderness  [3].”

“A man can’t forget how to fuck…” – Orren chuckled – “Sure enough, your hard cock seems to remember quite well what to do! Come on, Drake! Take back your life into your hands, regain control of your sexuality. Pursue your own desires, your own pleasure. Don’t worry, a rough fuck doesn’t scare me, you can do whatever you want to me!”

“Even… making sweet love to you?” – Drake asked, smiling tenderly, while taking position between Orren’s legs.

“Y… Yeah, even that…” – Orren replied, taken aback by Drake’s unexpected tenderness: for years, all Orren had seen of Drake was the sadistic streak he showed when he tied Torrance to the cross and tormented him. There was no room for love in the West Wing, the three of them never let it sprout within the impenetrable walls of their cells and of their hearts.

Drake took some oil and spread it on his stiff member, and poured some more on Orren’s hairy hole, massaging it with cautious, respectful fingers. When he pressed the tip of his cock on the wrinkled hole, he felt it open up to welcome him. “Let me show you how much I love you…” – Drake murmured, sinking his tool into Orren’s depths with utmost gentleness – “Are you surprised? Forget the terrible things I used to do to Torrance, the cross, the lash… That was not me: that was what the Satyrs forced me to be. All these years in the West Wing you watched on me, you supported me, and not once you judged me. Now I clearly see that, under the thick veil of my sinful life and the violence I indulged in, I’ve always loved you.”

Orren was speechless. He tried to remember the last time someone told him he loved him, but he couldn’t recall anything. “My beautiful, sweet Drake…” – Orren said softly, placing his hands on Drake’s cheeks – “Make love to me, remind me how sweet love can be…”

And Drake did it. The passion, the tenderness and the manliness he put in his confident thrusts were a soothing balm for both his own tortured soul and for Orren’s disillusioned heart. Drake looked down at Orren’s cock, that was quickly thickening and stiffening, and smiled. Orren was right, a man doesn’t forget how to fuck, and Drake’s body swayed and flexed with natural confidence, pushing the stiff love-stick deep into Orren’s warm chute, in search of his pleasure button.

“Ooohh… Keep doing it…” – Orren murmured, floating in a cloud of pleasure and love. If ever someone had given him such a loving fuck, he didn’t remember. All he knew is that it felt great, and wanted it to go on forever.

If it wasn’t forever, it was a long time nevertheless: Drake seemed tireless and his hips went on rocking back and forth until, at long last, he felt the well-known tension in his groin announcing the upcoming climax. But instead of rushing to the final explosion, he slowed down and stopped.

Orren looked up at him, puzzled, and asked: “Why did you stop? It was wonderful!”

Drake smiled and pulled out: “I could tell, looking at you!” – he replied, lying on the mattress on his back and raising his legs – “I want to know how it feels, too.”

“Don’t you know?” – Orren asked with surprise, rising on his knees, and Drake shook his head: “I’ve never been interested in other lads, when I was young. I had a girlfriend… sort of… before being kidnapped by the Satyrs; they ruined my hole, but never fucked me, and I never let anyone touch me since I joined the Asylum. I wish I could tell you I’m a virgin, but I’m afraid I’m anything but tight…”

“Virginity has nothing to do with the tightness of your hole” – Orren said tenderly, moving over Drake – “and the time-honored rule states that it’s an Uncle’s duty to take a Nephew’s virginity. But are you sure? I mean, you just endured a hard Trial…”

“If ever I felt ready to give myself to someone it’s now. And that ‘someone’ can’t be any other than you…”

Orren smiled, spread some oil on his throbbing member and gently eased it into Drake’s waiting hole. The past abuse and the recent Trial had loosened it, but Orren’s cock was quite thick, and filled Drake’s canal in the most sensual way.

“Ooooohh!!” – Drake moaned, with a mix of pleasure and surprise – “It’s… nnnngghh… Holy Fountain, it’s… otherworldly!”

Orren chuckled: “I’ve had my share of virgin asses, but sure enough no one had such a passionate reaction! And it can be even more ‘otherworldly’ than this…”

Now Orren was in his element, on top of a younger lad squirming with pleasure under him, and resorted to his vast experience to make Drake’s first time something he would’ve never forgotten. With long loving thrusts his cock explored Drake sensitive depths, those very depths that had known, so far, only cruel impalements and cold inanimate phalluses. The thought of what Drake had to suffer in his youthful years made Orren be particularly tender and delicate, and seeing Drake with his eyes closed, shivering and gasping for the overwhelming pleasure, filled his heart with joy.

Once more, Orren tried to recall when he ever gave to someone such a sweet and loving fuck, and nothing came to his mind: it never happened, because he never loved someone the way he loved Drake.

Orren felt he couldn’t hold back much longer, and noticed that Drake’s cock, too, was throbbing hard, as if it was on the verge of exploding; he gently curled his fingers around the hard shaft, carefully checking Drake, unwilling to trigger his nightmares; Drake reaction was ecstatic: “Ooohh..!!! Yes… Make my Fountain gush for you…! Nnnggggh… AAAAGGHH!!”

“My sweet boy!” – Orren exclaimed, falling himself into the delightful abyss – “Let me fill you with my blessing seed… NNNNGGHH!!!”

And both of them realized that ‘otherworldly’ was indeed the best way to describe what they were feeling.

 

~ More healing love ~

While in the West Wing Drake and Orren expressed their love to each other, Shay, in his room, was unsuccessfully trying to overcome the shame for having failed his own Test so miserably.

“How can you say it’s not my fault?” – he whined to Ewan – “I was supposed to use my Temperance and keep my dick limp, but as soon as Gaynor and Devin started touching me, not only I got hard, but I came like a race horse! Three times in a row!”

“Well…” – Gaynor giggled – “I know it’s not funny, but if I think at the way you literally showered all the Cousins…”

“Stop it!” – Shay protested, shoving Gaynor, but it seemed like he was shoving a solid wall – “And I’d even drunk the decoction Blain gave me, that was supposed to help me relax!”

“Wait… What decoction?” – Gaynor asked, suddenly serious, and Shay explained: “While I was alone in the Chapter House, Blain came and offered me an herbal decoction, to keep me hydrated and ease my tension… But now that I think of it, I heard him laugh at me while I was cumming. He must have put something in that decoction!”

Ewan looked at Shay’s crotch and chuckled: “Whatever he put in the decoction, its effect hasn’t worn off, yet!”

“Oh, my…!” – Shay gasped – “I… I can’t help it!”

“I don’t see anything wrong with it” – Gaynor joked, earning another ineffective shove from Shay – “Actually, it would be a sin to let such youthful ardor go wasted, don’t you think so, Ewan?”

“We can’t let it happen…” – Ewan replied, sensually pressing his body on Shay’s back, while Gaynor reached out to Shay’s cock to slowly stroke it. Shay tilted his head back, against Ewan’s chest, and moaned softly, falling prey once more of the wicked effect of whatever Blain had put in his drink, and the equally wicked effect Ewan and Gaynor always had on him.

The sensual massage on his cock suddenly stopped, and Shay opened his eyes just in time to see, much to his astonishment, Gaynor kneel down in front of him and open his mouth. “Gaynor! You… You want…” – Shay exclaimed, surprised to see the giant man doing something that he rarely indulged in, and never with a Young Cousin.

“Too much of your precious seed has already been wasted during your Test” – Gaynor replied – “and this time I don’t want to miss a single drop…”

Gaynor engulfed Shay’s cock in his mouth, and while his sloppy sucking made apparent how inexperienced he was, no one could’ve said he wasn’t putting a lot of passion in doing it. Besides, Gaynor was gigantic in everything, and his tongue enveloped Shay’s cock in such an incredibly erotic way that Shay couldn’t restrain a feeble squeal of pleasure.

Ewan, on Shay’s back, crouched down and started giving tender kisses and gentle bites to Shay’s round buttocks; his hands roamed the bulging ass cheeks, massaging and kneading them with growing desire. Shay felt on cloud nine, and moaned louder, basking in the pleasure those two studs were giving him.

Another muffled squeal of surprise escaped from Shay’s mouth when he felt Ewan inserting two well-oiled fingers up his ass. Ewan thrusted with gentle determination his fingers all the way, withdrew them and shoved them in again, and again, gyrating his hand to better spread the slick oil.

When Ewan started wiggling furiously his fingers against the sensitive prostate, Shay lost control and chocked a scream; his body stiffened and a powerful orgasm, further strengthened by the wicked effects of Blain’s potion, exploded into his groin.

Gaynor didn’t back up, but was taken aback by the amount of manly juice that suddenly flooded his mouth. He tried his best to drink it all, but it started seeping out of the corners of his mouth. Ewan, too, was surprised by the powerful anal contractions that rhythmically squeezed his fingers like in a vice, and looked up, to enjoy the sight of Shay moaning and trembling for the overwhelming pleasure.

The massive orgasm went on for many endless moments, and then trailed off. Gaynor suckled on the still stiff dick a little longer, to be sure not to waste a single drop of Shay’s sweet essence, and then started recoiling.

But Shay uttered a raucous “No…! There’s more…!!”, and the tension in his voice made Ewan widen his eyes for the surprise; Gaynor, too, was more than surprised, and not in the most positive way, when Shay grabbed his head with both hands and pulled it hard against his crotch, shoving his hard cock deep into Gaynor’s throat.

Gaynor gagged, and Shay suddenly realized what he’d done. He quickly withdrew his hands and said with urgency: “I’m sorry! Oh, please, don’t stop! Forgive me! Don’t stop!! Ah! No, I’m too sensitive, stop!! No, don’t stop!! Nnngghh!!”

Shay was torn between his still unsatisfied libido and the sensitiveness of his manhood due to the refractory time, and his many conflicting pleas made both Ewan and Gaynor chuckle.

Ewan stood up and theatrically sighed: “Gaynor, I’m afraid we’ll have to work overtime. This is a tough case…”

 

~ Drained to the last drop ~

Shay gasped and exhaled loudly when he felt Ewan’s cock fill his ass and take possession of it like it was its natural home. The thick, hard rod sank deep inside him; being fucked while standing was a new experience for Shay, and he noticed that Ewan’s familiar cock felt even thicker, in that position. The coupled onslaught on his ass and on his cock sent Shay through the roof again, and loud moans echoed in the room, while Shay hit again the acme of his pleasure, and another eruption of youthful seed flooded Gaynor’s mouth.

By the time Shay’s cock stopped shooting, Gaynor felt his jaws aching, and recoiled. This time Shay kept his hands away from Gaynor’s head, but whined: “I… I still feel horny…”

“Good, because I’m not done yet” – Ewan playfully growled in Shay’s ear, shoving his cock deep into his chute – “Don’t worry, stud, no matter how many gallons of juice you have stored in your beautiful balls, we’ll drain them!”

Gaynor started stroking Shay’s cock, but carefully, and stopping frequently, because Shay hissed and groaned for the temporary oversensitivity; and Ewan went on fucking Shay with passion, reaching around to his nipples and tickling them with his fingers. It didn’t take long until Ewan exploded and flooded Shay’s fundaments with his manly seed.

Feeling Ewan’s warm essence filling his insides pushed Shay over the edge for the third time; only a few drops of sperm came out of his throbbing cock, and when the contractions stopped, Shay felt finally relaxed and satisfied. But ‘exhausted’ was more an appropriate term to describe how he felt.

“Drained to the last drop, as promised!” – Ewan joked, and Shay smiled weakly: “Let me lay down for a moment… or maybe the entire night!”

“Relax and catch your breath” – Ewan said with a loving tone – “Gaynor and I are going down to the Springs to take a shower. See you later!”

Shay tried to relax, but he couldn’t. Now that his unnatural horniness had finally been satisfied, the thought of Drake running away from the Chapter House, desperate and scared, came back to his mind. He wanted to understand why Drake had reacted so dramatically, and only Drake could tell him. So, despite the exhaustion, he got off the bed, wore his loincloth and walked to the West Wing.

He knocked on Drake’s door and was surprised to hear Orren’s voice softly say “Come in!”. He peeked inside and smiled, looking at Drake sleeping into Orren’s arms. They were both naked, and Shay understood that Orren had found the best way to soothe Drake’s inner torments.

“I’d better come back tomorrow” – Shay whispered, but Drake opened his eyes and smiled: “Shay! Please stay, you’re always welcome. I was actually wondering how did your Test go.”

“It couldn’t go worse” – Shay replied, with a shy grin – “But first tell me what happened to your Trial. Why were you so upset? Did Blain do or say something that made you react that way?”

“I saw what my fears made me see” – Drake said seriously – “but in that moment I could’ve sworn that Blain was looking at me with the bestial lust I used to see in the Satyrs’ eyes, and that he was talking to me like the Satyrs used to do. It’s silly, I know, but it seemed so real! Poor Blain, I treated him so bad. Tomorrow I’ll have to apologize to him.”

“But he’ll have to apologize to me!” – Shay replied with passion – “You won’t believe what he did to make me fail my Test! He gave me a weird herbal potion, claiming that it would’ve helped me relax, but it actually made me horny as hell! I had three orgasms in a row, in front of the entire Cousinhood! And… ehm… three more orgasms in my room, with Ewan and Gaynor. I don’t know what Blain put in his potion, but it was wicked! And it also had a disgusting bitter taste!”

Drake got pale and rose sitting on the bed: “Bitter, with a distinct overtone of black pepper?”

“And aniseed, yes” – Shay confirmed – “How do you know?”

“Because that’s the potion the Satyrs forced me to drink for two years…”

-~~~≈≈≈ooOoo≈≈≈~~~-

In the next chapter: Blain’s deceiving double life is exposed; while Roderick and the other Uncles decide of his fate, Flann gets a visit from the last person he would want to meet. When Flann’s past is revealed, his stay at the Asylum is at stake, but he’ll do whatever it takes not to be cast out of the Cousinhood.

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Footnotes and references:

[1] Drake is currently a Lost Cousin, and his habit is black, symbol of Sin; but Roderick wants to restore his status as Older Cousin and let him wear again the blue habit, symbol of Peace of Mind, as Drake has taken vow of Temperance. As seen in Ch.1, the Asylum’s hierarchy is based on meaningful colors: red for the Novices, because they are still prey of passions; Young Cousins’ habit is green, symbol of Nature, as they have taken vow of Renunciation; Older Cousins wear the blue habit; Uncles wear the white habit, symbol of wisdom; and the Great-Uncle wears a purple habit, symbol of authority.
[2] In Ch.6 and Ch.12 we saw Drake give an intense sexual torment to Torrance, a younger Lost Cousin, and then to Shay; later on, in Ch.11, Torrance tells about his need to be abused, and how Drake ‘helped’ him proceed down the path to a sinful life. We never saw Orren take part in those bondage sessions, though we know from Ch.12 that he, as an Uncle, ‘gave’ young Torrance to Drake, to ‘play’ with him at will.
[3] In Ch.21, Drake reveals to Shay that the Satyrs abused his manhood at such an extent that his libido had died completely, and he couldn’t get an erection anymore; but Shay’s tender ministrations could revive Drake’s member, and even give him an orgasm, the very first in almost twenty years.