Short, small and compact, Charlie is protected by four tough policeman in 1925 Chicago: Papa, Uncle Eddie, Uncle Frank and Uncle Tommy. They each belong to a posse from the same precinct called "The Bulls" - Uncle Tommy is even called "The Titan." With each, he shares his devotion, his love, and his body.
I've improvised a story in two chapters about a gladiator and a Roman emperor. The sex can be somewhat rough at times, and there is bloodshed and death, but it's not the focus of the story.
As the possibility of family obligation and 1960s expectations weigh down on the two of them, Mal makes a decision that will change both of their lives.
Brasidas turned his gaze back to me, and I saw the claim, the obsession, the brutal desire he seemed to have for me return to his eyes with a devastating clarity. "This war between us ends now, do you understand? Now I will show you what it truly means to be my eromenos.”
Mal, the stalwart miner, uncharactersitically waits as Rhodri, his young tenant, returns home for Christmas. As Christmas ends and the new year comes, what will 1968 hold for the two men?
A tale of two kings - one being defeated in battle by the other - and how their relationship develops. Totally fictitious, but it makes for lots of sex!
Mal is a lifelong valleys man. A miner by trade and by blood, a loner by choice.
Rhodri is an apprentice. Sure of himself yet mature for his years.
When Rhodri takes a room in Mal's old house, their lives begin to converge against the backtrop of late 1960s Britain.
A 3 part Novella.
It's 1947, in a small rural town in Minnesota. Five young guys work for a lawn and garden business, mowing lawns and such. Three older men work with them and supervise. There is an incident in the showers after work that gets the story going as it told and retold.
In this final chapter of the story, I once again play fast and loose with Greek mythology. It concerns Heracles' fifth labor - to clean the accumulated cow excrement from a 30-year period from the stables of King Augeas in which they are kept overnight. This one has a somewhat bittersweet ending.
In this two-chapter story, I once again play fast and loose with Greek mythology. It concerns Heracles' fifth labor - to clean the accumulated cow excrement from a 30-year period from the stables of King Augeas in which they are kept overnight.
Brasidas huffed at me, and spit onto the ground at my feet. “Your brother, Alexandrios…," he said, hearing my brother’s name spoken aloud seemed to hit me harder than I expected, "…had a fire that could have lit up all of Greece." His voice, usually a gravelly command, softened into something I did not recognize from him.
With a guttural sound that was half agony, half surrender, he crossed the room and his mouth crashed down on mine. All the fear, the rage, the public humiliation, the private torment—it all poured into that kiss. It was desperate and furious and tender all at once.
Young David after his defeat of Goliath must face Hercules who has beaten Samson, the Isarelite hero. He must redeem Israel's honor and protect his people.
"This is you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine as he moved inside me. He stilled me, forcing my body to relax, his rhythm now a desperate but forceful deliberate reclaiming. “This, right here.” His hand gripped my pectoral muscle, his fingers outlining my heart. “This is mine. Remember? He cannot touch this."
The Minotaur's member was as long as a spear, and looked as much as dangerous. Theseus had ventured into the depths of the Labyrinth to slay the beast, yet found himself navigating the equally perilous maze of his own soul. What secrets lie at the very heart of the Labyrinth? Will the fated hero be able to conquer the abominable creature?
I stood as tall as I could and lifted my chin upward. "I knelt to him. I gave him my oath. I am his eromenos now, in truth." I kept my voice even. "The training… it is not what you think. It is an agreement. And I have chosen to obey." Theron stared at me as if I were a stranger, someone else standing before him.
On the night of his 18th birthday in 1885, a handsome, blond and blue-eyed Texas ranch hand is brought by his foreman father to the dastardly owner’s grand house; there the youth learns that life ain’t fair, in this raunchy saga.
He began to move, not with the force I was expecting, but with a slow, deliberate calculation, his hands releasing my chest, moving all over my torso in a claiming I didn’t understand. I kept my eyes closed as he used me. This was my duty. I belonged to him. Erastes and erominos. Sparta’s acceptable union.
I fought for a feeling. For the memory of Theron's mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, the look in his eyes that saw me, and not the ghost of a better son. And that feeling, that secret warmth, was the only reason my trembling legs still held me up. It was not my weakness. It was the only strength I had left.
“You will learn discipline,” Brasidas grunted, his breath smelling of metal and wine. “You will learn strength. You will learn that a mind is nothing without the will to enforce it.” He released me, and I stumbled back a step, my skin burning where he had touched me.
I saw Theron approach. He did not charge. He simply stood, his presence a challenge in the still air. I could not hear their words, but I saw the set of Theron’s shoulders, the unyielding line of his spine. I saw Brasidas turn, his laughter a silent, ugly gesture that I felt in the pit of my stomach. My heart was a frantic drum. Don't.
The Royal Affair is not just a story of power and passion. It is the story of the forbidden, of longing pressed too close, of hands brushing where they should not. And once the line is crossed, there is no turning back.
399 BC. 18 year old Lysander is about to be claimed by a teacher, to be taught the ways of the Spartan Soldier, to become a true pupil, an eromenos to an honoured soldier, and to be tethered to the man he has fallen in love with. Only there are other suitors, and Lysander is about to begin a journey that will go against all Sparta stands for.
The first of a two-part story about gladiators in ancient Rome. A bit intense in places, with domination, injury, and some bloodshed. Part 2 will be posted shortly.