Best Gay Erotica of the Year, Volume 1

by Rob Rosen

  The light was coming from inside the walls we had uncovered. The last few yards, I lowered myself onto all fours and crawled along the southern wall to what, we believed, had been the opening for a door. Carefully, I peered around its edge. There were no looters but there was a fire that was dancing in the constant wind. Why would looters start a fire? I wondered.

  I stood and looked all around me, then again at the fire. I couldn’t see what fuel was burning. The flames seemed to come directly from the ground.

  And then I heard the singing. The voice was deep and within the fire. Its song sounded vaguely Arab, not that I considered myself an expert on Islamic music, mind you. I tried stepping closer to the fire, but the unusual heat kept me away.

  As I watched, the tall and slender flame stretched to each side into what looked like arms ending in fiery fingers. Flames coalesced upward between these arms into an oval mass resembling a head. A lower portion spread and bent to the left, like an upraised leg. The leg settled back to the ground. Another leg appeared on the right side and raised and bent. The fire was dancing.

  A face slowly appeared in the head as I stared on, dark eyes in the flame staring back at me. I wanted to run, to wake up our small camp, but the eyes of the man of fire held me fast. It was a man. That was clear.

  The head became flesh, then the neck, shoulders, chest and arms. The shoulders were wide, the chest well defined. The upraised arms were slender but long muscled. The abdomen and belly appeared tight and trim. The mouth was also tight, the face angry looking.

  In another second, the fire vanished entirely and in front of me was a lanky Arab man perhaps in his thirties, clothed in an izaar similar to my own. He looked at me imperiously.

  “Who are you?” he asked. “And why are you here?”

  I was taken aback and stammered a reply. “My name is Tobias Ventry. I’m head of an archaeological excavation of this site. From the University of Pennsylvania…”

  He waved his hand to shut me up. “Tobias? That is a Jewish name.”

  “I’m not Jewish. I’m Presbyterian.” I sounded like an idiot.

  “Are you ashamed of being Jewish?” the man asked, slowly advancing in sinuous steps. His hips rotated toward me, legs moving loosely forward from the hips. I felt my cock begin to swell. In no time it was pointing out of my izaar directly at the man. He was close now. He looked down at my erection, and in an instant tore my izaar off and tossed it away. He appraised my cock.

  “No, you are not Jewish,” he announced. “You have a fine cock, Tobias Ventry. Kneel!” This he shouted as he pushed me to my knees. He removed his izaar and dropped it beside us. When he turned, his erection hit me in the face. I opened my mouth in surprise and he shoved it between my lips. He plunged rapidly into and out of me. I choked and sputtered and tried to protest, but nothing stopped him. When I tried to lurch away, the stranger grabbed my nipples and twisted them hard. The pain sent a shock wave through my body.

  “Be still, boy,” the man hissed. I wanted to say I was no boy, but his cock fucking my mouth and his fingers wrenching my nipples prevented my speaking. I had no choice. I wanted no choice. I held myself still, and his voice grew softer. “You like this, I think. That is good. Do as I say and enjoy.”

  I nodded.

  “Suck me!” he suddenly shouted, twisting my nipples until I did, then rubbing my shoulders in appreciation. “You do this well. Your master is pleased.” I looked up at the word: master. “Keep sucking!” he spat out with apparent hatred in his face. He grabbed my chest with both his hands and clamped them hard. “You like this. What else do you like?” He pulled out of me. “Spread my izaar on the sand.” I did as he directed. “Lie down.” I lay back against his izaar, the sand warming me through it.

  He kicked my legs apart with his feet and stared down at me for a time. He nodded to himself, then snarled, “Turn over!” I turned onto my stomach, alarmed but eager. “You have a delectable ass. Up on all fours, boy,” he commanded. I heard him kneel behind me and felt him spread my legs wide with his long thighs. I felt the tip of his cock find my asshole. I screamed when it rushed inside me.

  “Please! It hurts.”

  “Quiet!” he hissed and began to fuck me as fast as he had fucked my face. I cried out again several times. He settled his body onto my back, one arm landing parallel to my right, the hand of the other reaching around to cover my mouth. “I said be quiet. I will fuck you like the dog you are. Do you hear me?” He yanked my head back violently. “I said, do you hear me, boy?” I screamed out a yes. Yes, I’d heard him. Yes, I wanted more.

  At that, he seemed to relax, his cruel slamming slowing a bit. He removed his hand from my mouth and slid his left arm next to mine. We were like dogs then, one atop the other, both on all fours, our only motion his resolute pumping into and out of me, the only sound the slapping of his crotch against my ass. He rested his head next to mine and began to pant. I did the same.

  “Yes, I like that sound, boy. Your ass is good. Very good.” He groaned and writhed inside me, grinding in pleasure. “Oh, it has been a long time, such a long time.” He groaned again into my ear, his breath hot and moist. He sucked and bit my neck. I stifled moans of pleasure. He seemed to know.

  “Moan for me, boy. Let me hear you.”

  I let myself moan then as he fucked me faster, short jabs against my prostate. My cock ached to come, and suddenly I was. My mouth fell open in surprise and joy. It had been a long time for me as well. His right hand pushed my head around to his mouth and his tongue fought with mine while he fucked wildly in and out, in and out, and then with a tremendous groan he spasmed inside me. I felt his seed, warm and wet.

  He withdrew immediately and rose above me, his cock softening. I was still catching my breath, still wondering at the events. “Look at me, slave!” he yelled down at me. “You are mine now, only mine!” My head jerked up. His eyes were full of fire. “You may go now, but return tomorrow night when you see the fire. I want more of you, slave. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Speak!”

  “I understand!”

  He kicked me backward onto the sand. “I understand, Master.”

  “I understand, Master!”

  “Another thing. Do not touch yourself. Your body belongs only to me now. Do you understand?”

  “I understand…Master,” I said, with hesitation.

  “Do you understand?” he repeated, taking a step forward and placing a foot above my genitals.

  “I understand, Master!” I repeated with much more conviction.

  He folded his arms. He looked both beautiful and awful above me. He glared as if he hated the sight of me. “Get out!” he said, taking up my izaar and wrapping it around himself.

  “But…”

  “Get out!”

  I rose to run, but he restrained me with a long arm. “Wear this,” he said, picking up his izaar from the ground. I stood, amazed and frozen. “Put it on. Now!” I did, immediately. He looked at it, turning me around, patting me on the ass and fingering my nipples. He smiled as my cock rose again. “Good boy. Until tonight.” And then I heard the crackling of flames and felt a sudden intense heat. I staggered away from the fire and ran out of the ruins through the sand, not daring to look back.

  All the next day I hardly accomplished anything. I thought only of nightfall. I wanted the strange man’s hands on my chest, his tongue in my mouth, his cock up my ass. I had an erection off and on all day. I wanted badly to relieve myself, but remembered his command. By the end of the day, I was frantic.

  That night, after Eric and Mustafa had begun their play, and David was in his own tent, I ran to the ruins, even though the fire had not shown itself as yet. I smoked while I waited.

  The fire appeared first as a single, tiny flame and then grew into the sky, spreading tall and wide. The eyes showed themselves in the flames before the body appeared. They angrily flashed.

  “You disobeyed me!”

  “But…”

  “I did not tell you to speak.
You disobeyed me. I told you to wait for the flames.”

  My head dropped. “I…”

  “Shut up! You will learn to obey your master. Go! You sicken me.”

  I couldn’t believe we weren’t going to have sex. I’d barely gotten through the day. I had to have him inside me. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled toward him. The fire was scorching, but I kept crawling. I kept my head down. I felt the fire decrease. I sensed the presence of the man, like a scent.

  “You are a dog,” he hurled down at me, though less angrily than I thought he would, and, like a dog, I began to hope. There was silence. I couldn’t keep it up though. I whimpered in spite of myself. “The dog speaks. He wants his master’s attention.” I looked up. “All right, dog. Take this.” He held his cock out for me and I crawled to it, taking its full length in one gulp, not choking or gasping. I held it there, waiting for his next command.

  “Good,” he said, while he thickened inside my mouth. “I will teach you how to suck a man’s cock. Follow my instructions or this bone will be taken from you.” He removed his cock from my mouth. Again, I whimpered.

  “Stop this whimpering, dog. Lick the length of my cock, from the base to the head. Slowly.” I did as he commanded and heard him groan with pleasure. “Now, back down to the base.” I did this and repeated what I had learned. When I reached the head the third time, he commanded, “Lick the head, all around it.” I did this carefully and slowly, loving the feel of him and becoming excited by the pleasure I was giving him.

  “Suck the head, boy,” he said in a raspy voice. A shudder went through his body when I did. His fingers clamped onto my nipples and he began to face-fuck me again. He sneered as he did this. “See, your master is kind to his dog. He pays attention to your breasts.” He twisted and pulled my nipples. I yelped. “Keep your mouth tight, slave!” He yanked my nipples and clutched at my chest more wildly, his cock pumping faster in and out of my mouth. The pain became pleasure. I pushed my chest out to meet his hands.

  “That is good, boy. You are ripe,” he said with an evil laugh. He withdrew his cock. I knew now not to protest.

  I waited while he spread his izaar on the sand. “Lie down,” he commanded. I crawled onto the cloth on all fours. “I said lie down! On your back, fool!” I turned over as quickly as I could. “Undo your izaar.” I opened it like a package. He stared down at my upright cock. He knelt as I spread my legs. “Wait! I will tell you what to do and what not to do!” I put my legs back together and he placed a thigh on either side of them, holding me in place. I watched him bend his head to my cock and take it into his mouth. He sucked gently, cupping my balls in his hands before lifting my legs into the night air. I felt joyous, knowing his cock would soon be inside me.

  When he entered, I could hardly keep myself from coming immediately, but I did as he said, wrapping my legs around his back, letting my arms be held down by his, holding still beneath him as he fucked me, slowly this time, letting me feel each inch as he eased his cock in and out of me. I could not keep myself from roiling beneath him, although I was afraid it would displease him. On the contrary, he smiled.

  “You are excited, boy?”

  I moaned.

  “Tell me, boy. Tell me,” he commanded. I moaned freely as he withdrew, and cried out as he plunged himself back deep inside me. I heard his groans above me and knew he was pleased. I felt fire travel down his body and through his cock, then into me. He banged against my prostate repeatedly as I shrieked, begging for release.

  “Come, boy,” he commanded at last, and I pressed up against his crotch as I shot and shot. His release was timed to mine. I felt his seed eject inside me. We rode together like a ship on waves of sand.

  When he came no more, I expected he would pull out of me immediately, as he had before, but he stayed inside and settled himself onto me, letting our bodies meld together. I heard the night wind of the desert. I felt his hands grip my shoulders and his beard scratch at my clean-shaven face. When he finally did withdraw and stand, he pulled me up with him.

  “You did well today, boy. You kept yourself for me. Now,” he said, slapping me hard on one cheek, “tomorrow night wait for the flames!” He turned his back on me and strode away, his body beautiful in its retreat, pale olive in color and lightly covered with dark hair. He picked up my izaar and wrapped it around his body. His head and shoulders turned to me, his black eyes flashing. “Why are you still here, slave? Go!” I grabbed his izaar and ran out of the ruins back to my camp.

  The next workday was easier. I thought of him all day, but knew we would have the night. If I did as he said, yes, that is what we would have.

  After dinner, through stupid conversation, I waited for my men to go to bed and then waited hungrily for the flames. When they appeared, I hurried toward the ruins, kicking up dry sand as I ran. I charged into the dig, chest heaving. He was already becoming a man, flesh from the fires.

  He smiled at me for the first time. “You are eager, Tobias. So am I. Come here.” I walked, then ran to him. Tobias! He had called me by my name!

  He held me at arm’s length, looking down my body. “You are beautiful. I have known many men. You are the most beautiful of them all.” He pulled me to him and held me close. His voice rumbled from his chest to mine with his next words.

  “Tonight we will try something new. You are ready.” He reached for an object on the ground and, rising, attached a wooden clamp to one of my nipples. I stifled the yell, which pleased him, so I made sure to take the second clamp without so much as a grimace. He held my shoulders and kissed me as my reward before beginning a tugging at the clamps. I gritted my teeth and tried not to think about how much it hurt. I hoped pleasure would follow pain. It did, like none I’d ever felt before.

  He again smiled at me, a real smile, not a sneer. “Good, Tobias. You see? Pleasure from pain. There will be more. You will feel worse pain this night—and greater pleasure.” He pushed me to my knees before reaching down for the clamps and yanking them hard. I opened my mouth in a silent scream, and his cock entered between my lips. My reward! I happily sucked him inside my mouth, the pain in my nipples blending with the pleasure of his cock.

  After too short a time, he pulled his cock away and began to bludgeon my face with it. I lifted my chin to take each blow. “Good,” he said. “You like a beating. Stand, slave. Turn your back to me. Bend over and hold your knees.”

  While I did so, I heard him moving behind me. I knew not to look around or ask what he was doing.

  When the first lash hit my back, I involuntarily yelled, loudly, loud enough so that he stopped and we both listened for any sounds from my camp. There were none. He gagged me to prevent more yelling.

  “You will learn, boy, to welcome this and not to cry out, but for now…” And then the second lash hit, and the third and fourth. There was a pause between each one while the wind brushed the wound and made its sting linger. I kept myself crouched over and tried to welcome each blow. He said there would be more pain and more pleasure. I relaxed the muscles of my back and ass and began to welcome the blow. He could tell this and removed my gag.

  “It is good, is it not, my beautiful boy?” His hand caressed my back, fingers sliding along the welts on my skin, making each tingle with pleasure—and pain. He pressed his cock against my ass and entered, beginning the fuck.

  Afterward, he held me gently against him and said loving words in an Arabic that I could barely understand. He applied salve to my back. When he dismissed me, it was without anger or threat. I walked away that night and dared to look back. He was still a man, watching me leave him.

  In the morning, I felt no pain from the beating. I looked at my back with a small mirror. There were no marks. The salve had worked a miracle.

  That night, after applying the clamps and playing with my chest for some time, he beat me with a short whip, one like a riding crop, across my chest and legs, taking care not to hit my erection or my testicles. Somehow, it hurt worse than the lash. I could not h
elp crying out. He stopped.

  “You do not want this, boy?” He forced my head down and held his cock for me to see. “Here, I will give you a taste to encourage your better efforts.” He pushed me to my knees, and I eagerly took his cock. One, two minutes passed, and then he pulled away. “There will be more. Take the pain, boy, and there will be more.”

  I did my best not to scream, not to anticipate or feel the pain or think about it after. I went into a kind of trance in which I heard the crack of the whip and felt its touch, but did not acknowledge pain. He stopped and lifted my chin with two thick fingers and smiled down at me. “Very good. Your reward, slave,” he said, sliding his cock into my mouth. “Suck!”

  This time he came in my mouth; I tasted him and swallowed. He patted my head affectionately. “That is good, Tobias. Take all of me you can. Each swallow, in your mouth or ass, makes you mine.”

  I kept swallowing, threading my tongue into his foreskin, letting it search for every drop of him. I wanted to be his. I needed it now.

  He beat me again, across the back, then rode me as he beat me more, like a horse he was spurring on. And I was spurred on. I held my back up to take the beating, my ass up to take the fucking. He pulled my head back by my hair as he rode and beat me. I had been his dog. Now I was his horse. I came when he said I could and felt him come inside me. More of me was his now. I waited for his next command, still panting from the ride.

  He knelt behind me, gently running his fingers over the marks of the lash. They soothed the burn. Then he rose and left. I turned to see him walking into the ruins. My eyes watched the syncopation of his walk, the swing of his ass, the proud lift of his head. I yearned for his body back on mine. He disappeared into the farthest walls we had so far excavated.

  I waited, hopeful for his return, fearful he would not. I waited on all fours, my welts stinging in the night air, my nipples aching with the clamps. He hadn’t given me leave to get up.