Newblood Initiate (Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl)

by Adrianna Dane

  When the night of Initiation arrived, it was with as much regret and sadness as excitement and anticipation for Alonzo.

  “This is it, newblood,” Squire said as Alonzo knelt at respectful attention in the hut. Squire slowly circled him, seeking any minute flaw, then came to stand in front of him. “You’re ready to enter service, and tonight beneath the full moon you will be inducted through ceremony and will advance to the next level. Have you anything to say before I bid you good-bye?”

  “Don’t leave, Squire,” Alonzo implored. “What will I do without you to guide me?”

  As usual Squire didn’t soften—he never did. Not once in these last months had Squire broken a smile or relented in any way. His dark eyes surveyed Alonzo. Those first weeks had been hard. Naked service on a lush southern island such as this meant sunburned skin in places that had never been exposed. And muscles not yet honed and sculpted as befitting a member of the Man Society. At least for Alonzo those long weeks working aboard the Starry Night had mitigated some of the soreness the others had experienced with the long hours of physical labor expected of newbloods.

  Squire had provided him with a special lotion to help alleviate what aches and twinges he did experience and he and the other newbloods spent many a night applying it to each other in a most excruciating, and sometimes arousing, manner. Even as they exchanged stories of work detail and sensual service to their squires, now, just like Squire, Alonzo’s flesh was deeply tanned head to foot without one mar of imperfection, nor a speck of unseemly pale skin to break the creamy luster of golden, glowing flesh. Muscles well toned, abs flat and firm, a body sculpted to perfection.

  “You’ve taken to your new situation remarkably well, newblood. Not many adapt as quickly as you. And as you’ve seen, some fail quite miserably and end up being sent back to the mainland. But not you. Soon, you will have more masters vying for your service than you can possibly accommodate. But as you seem to maintain a voracious appetite, I sense you will adapt quite well to the Society.”

  A wash of pleasure flooded Alonzo at Squire’s words of praise. But the next moment he felt overwhelmed with emotion at the thought of losing this closeness that had developed over the last months in service to Squire. His mentor and teacher had pushed Alonzo to his limits, broken him to his hand and…and now. He dropped forward and wrapped his arms around Squire’s legs, pressing close.

  “I love you, Squire. I love you,” he sobbed, losing every speck of self-control so prized by Squire. For in that moment he couldn’t imagine his life without serving this man.

  “Control yourself, newblood. Have I not taught you better?” He unwound Alonzo’s arms from around his legs and shoved him away. “I am but your trainer, and you are but one newblood among many. I am a teacher, a molder of behavior. It is my calling. You will distinguish yourself this evening. Tonight will be just the beginning for you. Service to me is not the end for you, but merely the beginning. Now that you know the way of it, you will serve others flawlessly as you have been trained to do. Do not dishonor me. You will soon come to love them all, as they shall love you.”

  As Alonzo lay sprawled on the ground, Squire turned and strode out of the hut. Alonzo, panicked, crawled to one of the windows, but Squire was lost quickly in the dense jungle that lay just beyond the perimeter of the huts. Alonzo finally picked himself up and brushed away the sand. He also wiped away his tears, ashamed of his loss of control. Squire was right to be angry with him, to be disgusted by Alonzo’s unseemly display of emotion.

  Alonzo promised himself he would do better and he would show everyone what a good teacher Squire had been to him. He owed his mentor at least that for all he had done for Alonzo during these last months of training. Yes, he was ready for the next phase of his induction and he welcomed the challenges to come.

  The newbloods were carefully prepared for the rigors of the first rite of entrance into the Man Society. Their bodies were well-oiled, flesh gleaming beneath the firelight. This would be the first primitive orgy rite, overseen by the Spiritmasters. They had prepared for this sexual initiation and each was eager to be taken by the men of authority, or even an Ancient if one was lucky enough to be chosen.

  Rite of Initiation

  The newbloods were led, single file to the large bonfire at the center of the ceremonial clearing. They were directed to sit in a circle formation around the fire, cross-legged, waiting for the dance to begin, and for each to be chosen in turn by the first in authority.

  The Drummasters, well-muscled, bronze skin gleaming with sweat, were a sight to be seen as they rhythmically swung their arms up and down, hips rocking as they welcomed the newest members of the man clan. Alonzo’s heartbeats seemed to match the deep vibrations, and his cock rose quickly, thrusting upward, bobbing against his stomach, as it felt like his whole body responded to the primal cadence.

  Alonzo looked around, seeking out his squire, but he didn’t see him among those present. A certain measure of sadness and longing cut through his excitement. He had so wanted to prove to Squire that he was not a blubbering idiot. That he would prove himself worthy of the honor bestowed this night.

  A Spiritmaster approached him, carrying a golden vessel etched with erotic images of fornication, and handed it to Alonzo.

  “Drink deeply,” the elder instructed. It was the wine of abandon, used strictly for the sexual initiation, the night Alonzo and the other newbloods had anticipated for these last challenging months.

  He eagerly lifted the goblet to his lips and gulped down the sweet yet tangy contents. It tasted of coconut and banana, the bite of spirits, the smoothness of honey. Alonzo was more than ready to shoulder the responsibilities associated with rising from newblood to initiate. As he drained the goblet, his gaze encountered the dais at the far side of the clearing and his blood raced at the vision of golden gods, served by their attendants dressed in rich robes. One day he planned to be in that position—attendant to an Ancient. Around the fires at night, the squires had regaled the newbloods of the stories of the ancients who inhabited this island. Their stories had fueled many of Alonzo’s wet dreams during his exhausted sleep. And now to actually see them in all their golden glory. To serve them was a dream many initiates trained in hopes of achieving. To be chosen to serve an ancient was the highest service a submissive receiver could wish for in this society.

  The Ancients. The regal five, holding the honored First Level positions on the island as the Island Lords, naked except for their adornment of gold glittering powder from head to foot, wearing hammered gold and copper necklaces and headpieces, giving them the appearance of statues of the primitive gods sculpted in precious metal, reanimated to partake in this earthly celebration. They were far, far above the station of any of the other inhabitants of the island. They were here to preside over the ceremony, to serve as reminders of the root of their civilization, but not necessarily to partake of the orgy itself, serving as figureheads to the momentousness of the occasion.

  Alonzo turned away as six Spiritmasters, wearing costumes of yellow and blue feathers and multi-colored glass and clay beads, their faces decorated with strange symbols known only to them, danced around the fire, behind the newbloods seated there. They circled and swayed, jumped high into the air, shook their hands, and shouted at the top of their lungs. The drumbeats became more pronounced, drilling through to his heart. The effects of the wine magnified every sensation. Alonzo felt his lust building, his body opening, more than ready to be claimed by one of these masterful men. This would be his first step to becoming an accepted receiver—used and pleasured, giving pleasure and service to those in authority.

  It was with difficulty that he maintained his focus on the ceremony as his blood flamed hotter and hotter. By all the heavens, and the hells too, he needed to be taken. The pounding crescendoed to an eardrum-shattering decibel and then abruptly stopped. The silence was utter and absolute, a breathtaking contradiction. He turned to look up at the Ancients, as the one at the center rose—appearing a ve
ritable giant among men from Alonzo’s position on the ground. Arms crossed over his massive chest, he slowly surveyed the gathering. His gaze turned to the head Spiritmaster and he nodded, signaling for the next phase of the ceremony to begin.

  The Drummasters hammered once again, this time quick, staccato beats. Firelight flickered, casting shadows that seemed to loom long and undulating across those gathered. Alonzo looked to the Drummasters, to their thick meaty arms as they drove down again and again, their gorgeous bodies slick with sweat. They weren’t just drummers, but hunters as well. Each one personally crafted the drum upon which he beat, hunted the animal and tanned the skin. He fantasized about being taken by one of them, about being dropped to the ground, opened and penetrated, with one of them pounding into him with the same force used on their drums. It was almost too much for Alonzo.

  Alonzo jumped as a hand settle on his shoulder. He glanced up to see the head Joymaster gazing down at him. Squire had pointed him out when they’d done a tour of the town proper one day, and Alonzo had remembered him well. His heart hammered as he realized his turn had come. The Joymaster tapped Alonzo to receive his Master’s pleasure.

  Alonzo clambered to his feet, slightly unsteady from the effects of the wine. The Joymaster steadied him. It was a good omen to be chosen by Cassius as his first. Of all of those in authority he was most skilled in the sexual arts. Teacher of the joyboys—those who chose strictly sexual service on the island, not wishing to take the oath to one particular man of authority, content with their service as pampered community sex toys to the island men as a whole.

  Cassius leaned forward to passionately kiss him. He curled his hand possessively around Alonzo’s cock. His body was painted with erotic symbols signifying his position, and Alonzo found his attentions extraordinarily arousing.

  “I will be your first, Alonzo. I’ve had my eye on you for some time,” he said as he drew Alonzo forward, his firm hand gripping the newblood’s burgeoning penis. “I always keep track of the progress of the newbloods and I’m particularly interested in you. Your squire has spoken very highly of you.”

  “I am honored, Joymaster.” How could Alonzo not be pleased by such flattery from such a master?

  They moved across the clearing to one of the fallen logs positioned at the edge, specifically placed for the ceremony. Alonzo noticed in passing that the other newbloods had also been tapped. David, by a shopkeeper, Helmer by the blacksmith, Krispin by an artmaster, and Parker by a cropkeeper. He had only a quick glance before Cassius recalled his attention.

  “Lots were drawn, we are the lucky ones to receive first service.” He kissed Alonzo. “But even without first service, I would have waited for you. I think you’ll be worth it.”

  They stopped and Cassius stroked Alonzo’s cock with magically expert fingers, making Alonzo shudder with pleasure. Pre-cum glistened at his slit, dripping down and over the Joymaster’s fingers. “You would make a very good joyboy. Have you thought of that? You would have much greater freedom than becoming attached to merely one Master.” The Joymaster’s fingers tested Alonzo’s fortitude.

  “I want more.” Alonzo just managed to get out the words, so overcome was he by the attentions of the Joymaster.

  Cassius’s dark, plucked brows arched and his grip firmed. “More of this?”

  Alonzo groaned in ecstasy. “Yes,” he hissed. “But also more than being a joyboy for anyone’s pleasure.”

  Cassius’s gaze surveyed him as he stroked Alonzo’s passions to the breaking point. Alonzo would not be allowed to penetrate this night, but how he wanted to spear into Cassius with his needy prick.

  “Over the log,” Cassius commanded. “Spread your legs. I’ll make this good for you. Maybe so good, you’ll want to join my pleasure harem and become a joyboy.”

  Alonzo did as he said, feeling the roughness of the aged bark beneath his chest, scratching across his raging, sensitized flesh. If he had been anyone else, he might have acceded to the Joymaster’s prediction. But he was not. He was a man who always wanted more. Would always be so.

  He had been chosen to come to the island because of his youth and male beauty. He was no fool on that score. Once he reached the level of Attendant, be it to a Man of Authority or, gods allowing, to one of the Ancients, he would be offered the cup of life from the fabled Fountain of Youth. With that he would receive immortality.

  Cassius’s cockhead pressed at his puckered, oiled entrance, pressing slowly inward, breaching the tight muscled ring of his opening. He had been prepared, using the array of dildos provided for that purpose. The newbloods had made quite a game of helping to prepare each other for the coming ceremony in anticipation of the hard use they would receive this night. It was against the laws of the island for them to fuck each other, but using the dildos was an activity encouraged by those in authority. None of them were to be penetrated by human cock until the first ceremony of sexual initiation. And, gods, how Alonzo had missed fucking. Those weeks of abstinence had surely made him miss his captain and the regular attentions he’d received on board the Starry Night. But he had known it would be worth it—oh, yes, definitely worth waiting for this night of initiation.

  Cassius’s prick split him open as he tunneled deeper—hot, human flesh that had Alonzo sighing with ecstasy. He’d waited so long, suffered the indignities of a newblood, forced to endure without satisfaction. Tested for his measure, his fortitude, his dedication. Not all of the newbloods had passed the grueling tests. But Alonzo had been of those who persevered, who did not fail. And now, at last, he would be rewarded.

  Cassius had one of the longest cocks on the island, so it was said, and knew how to use it. “Do you like the feel of that, newblood?”

  “Yes.” Alonzo wiggled his ass, wanting him deeper, feeling his balls tighten and draw with desire. Enforced abstinence for all this time only made him more eager for this night to come.

  “How much can you take your first time, I wonder? You have a nice ass. Tight, just as I knew it would be. Do you know how long I have been waiting for the ceremony in order to fuck you?”

  He pressed deeper, retreated, widened him. Slowly, Alonzo became accustomed to the welcomed manly invasion inside his channel. Then Cassius’s movements grew faster, more insistent, shoving Alonzo against the hard log over which he was positioned. There was some pain, but not as much as Alonzo expected, and he began to work his hips against Cassius’s movements, until finally he felt Cassius explode inside him, filling him with his cum.

  “That’s it, newblood, just like that. Damn, you have a fine body. I’d do it again, but there are others wanting to sample you. Another time you and I shall enjoy a leisurely afternoon together. And then you will truly be tempted to accept the offer to join my…harem, I guess they call it.” Quickly, the Joymaster slid his softening prick from Alonzo’s needy body.

  There were other hands on Alonzo now, pushing him to his back. The world seemed a kaleidoscope of colors, men’s forms blending one to the other. He could identify none of them, and yet embraced the touch of all of them.

  A mouth enclosed his cock, sucking him deep down a throat. Sensitivity heightened by the wine, he cried out, senseless mumblings, voicing his desire for more. He thrust his hips, mindless, searching to experience every bit of this exquisite pleasure he’d been denied for so long.

  They used him as a vessel, filling and refilling him. Then used him as a wine gourd, squeezing him dry, time and time again.

  The scent of wood smoke, men, almond oils and all manner of erotic flavors and aromas filled him. A firm hand braced his jaw, forcing his mouth open. Coconut juice dribbled into his mouth, splashing onto his tongue, moistening his parched throat. Another hand stroked his throat, even as he swallowed the reviving liquid. Then a cock pressed to his lips, penetrating him, and Alonzo sucked the man deep with all alacrity to serve these wonderful masters.

  Sweat dripping, the scent of men all around him, kept him pitched at the sharp edge of hungry lust. A tongue swirled over the ti
p of his cock, dipped into the slit, driving him mad with need, until finally he exploded inside the warm wet mouth of the man sucking him to completion.

  More hands on him—big hands, callused by work, pushed him over the log. A man’s thick cock fucked into Alonzo’s hole, exploding inside him, his words of compliment fueling Alonzo. He stroked Alonzo, until he thought he would die from the overwhelmingly intimate sensations experienced this night. The newblood initiate had come more than he ever thought possible, and his ass was on fire from the many fuckings he had received.

  At last alone, he slid from the log onto the damp, cool dirt, staring up at the stars, wet with leavings, exhausted and utterly content, the happiest he’d ever been in his life. To serve, oh gods, yes, to serve these men was to experience Nirvana itself and he hoped never to awake if this was simply a dream. There was finally quiet, the drumbeats steady and slow now. He was satiated beyond his wildest imaginings.

  Although floating in a semiconscious state, he sensed a presence close to him, heard the clatter of beads, and turned his head. He stopped breathing, stilled by the vision that met his eyes. Above Alonzo stood one of the golden Ancients, looking so much larger than any mortal man. The Ancient leaned down and picked Alonzo up, cradling him in his arms with so little effort it almost took Alonzo’s breath away. Alonzo could only stare up at him in silence, knowing he must be caught in the throes of some magical dream.