Testing Lysander

by L. M. Somerton

  Brock’s dick perked up at the order but his brain resisted.

  “No.”

  “Really? You choose this moment to become a disobedient brat? Don’t make me come over there and get you, Lysander.”

  Brock knew from the use of his proper first name that Kyle was deadly serious.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Brock…” Kyle growled. He actually growled.

  “We can’t do anything here. Everyone else in camp will hear us,” Brock whispered desperately.

  “Jonesy won’t give a shit and I’m pretty sure that Milo and Juan had us sussed from the first instant they met me. Now get your ass over here.”

  Brock sighed and gave in to the inevitable. He groped around at the side of his cot and found the switch on the solar lantern. Bluish light flooded the tent, making him blink.

  “The nights are so black out here.”

  “Indeed. Now get over here and suck me. Hands behind your back.”

  Brock rolled his eyes but clambered from his cot and knelt next to Kyle, who was giving his thick erection some gentle attention. Brock leaned forward and swiped the head with his tongue, gathering a few drops of pre-cum to taste. Kyle put his hands behind his head and hummed his approval.

  “Do a good enough job and I might just return the favor.”

  “That’s quite an incentive.”

  “I should tie your hands really but I’m too comfortable to move. Now get to work.”

  Brock gave Kyle’s cock a flick with his tongue, making it sway before ducking forward and swallowing it down. Kyle’s strangled gasp was reward enough. Brock constricted his throat, thankful that he had great control over his gag reflex.

  “Fucking hell!” Kyle’s hips jerked.

  Brock pulled off with a long drag of his tongue then sucked hard, but just the first inch or so of Kyle’s straining dick.

  “You taste so good.” He hummed a little, hoping that the added vibration would drive Kyle wild. He wasn’t disappointed. He loved going down on Kyle, loved every expression that flitted across Kyle’s face and the excitement in his eyes. Being able to touch would have made things even better. It was a special kind of torment not to be able to grip Kyle’s hot shaft or feel the weight of his balls.

  “Aagh!” Kyle’s gasp sounded the moment Brock swirled the tip of his tongue around the smooth and rounded head of Kyle’s cock. It was followed by a deep sigh as Brock slid his lips down Kyle’s dick. Brock sucked and squeezed his mouth around Kyle’s shaft harder and faster until Kyle’s muscled body tensed.

  “Close!”

  Brock accepted the warning and plunged forward to deep throat Kyle again. He held still, his airway blocked, as Kyle jerked and came in a hot stream. Brock swallowed again and again then pulled off with a satisfied smack of his lips.

  “Holy fuck, you’re good at that!” Kyle exclaimed.

  Brock flushed with pride at having pleased Kyle. Kyle’s order to keep his hands behind his back slipped from Brock’s mind and he fisted his cock roughly. Two swift jerks and he shot hard, with a shuddering moan. He opened his eyes to catch Kyle’s amused expression.

  “What happened to ‘hands behind your back’?”

  Brock attempted a contrite look. “Sorry, Sir.”

  “Oh, you will be, the next time I have the time and opportunity to thrash your ass.” Kyle stretched.

  “If you were a cat, you’d be purring,” Brock observed as he cleaned himself up with a tissue, then clambered back onto his cot.

  “Nothing wrong with sounds of deep satisfaction. I got off in a spectacular fashion, I got to watch you on your knees and I can look forward to punishing you for disobedience in the very near future. All is good.”

  Brock closed his eyes, feeling much more relaxed and ready for sleep.

  “Very good.” He had to agree.

  Chapter Nine

  After spending a day getting used to their surroundings and exploring the periphery of the camp, both Kyle and Brock were itching to get going. For Kyle, it wasn’t just the urge to get the mission over and done with but a driving need to spend time alone with Brock. He packed and re-packed his kit. He examined maps and plans until his eyes ached. He spent hours huddled in corners with Jonesy going over every detail of the mission under the pretext of a sudden fascination with the local snake population. He kept an eye on Brock as much as possible, but Brock kept wandering off to take pictures. At least he always took Milo or Juan with him. Kyle recognized men who knew what they were doing in a hostile environment. Brock was as safe as he could be with them and taking photographs kept him occupied, with less time to worry.

  After a farewell dinner, they went to bed early and slept hard. Kyle suspected that there was some scientific reason as to why the brain registered a need for rest before an extreme experience and he was grateful for it. Physically, they were ready. Mentally, he still couldn’t be sure that Brock would cope with what lay ahead but there wasn’t much about the trip that he could be sure about. All the planning in the world could be thrown into chaos by any number of unpredictable scenarios. Kyle had done his best to think of every possible event but he knew from experience that anything that could go wrong probably would.

  Kyle emerged from the tent before six in the morning, just as the sun was rising. Brock followed closely behind him, quieter than usual. They sat down to breakfast with Milo, Juan and Jonesy. Everyone had risen early to see them off. The meal consisted of cornmeal arepas and steaming bowls of agua de panela, a local drink made from boiled sugar cane. Both would give them the energy they needed for the hike ahead.

  With the meal finished, there was no further reason to delay.

  “Ready?” Kyle asked Brock. The question was superfluous but Kyle felt the need for a little reassurance. Brock could still change his mind after all.

  “Of course. I’m looking forward to it. Spectacular pictures are waiting out there and it’s our job to hunt them down.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, Kyle, I’ll take care of you.”

  Kyle snorted. “Of course you will.”

  Brock fetched his small pack. It contained only essential supplies—bed roll, mosquito netting, some dry rations, a change of clothes, machete, water bottle and filter pump. He also had his light climbing shoes, a caving helmet and head torch. He could travel for weeks in the most remote parts of the world with little else. With the wealth of the forest readily available—from various fruits and berries to roots and edible plants to abundant game and fish—there was little need to haul additional food. All being well, they would be gone no more than four days and traveling light was essential.

  Kyle’s pack was somewhat bigger. He had coils of rope attached to his rucksack, along with a shiny set of D-rings and a few metal pegs. They probably wouldn’t need them. He and Brock were both more than capable of free climbing the cliff face they would need to tackle. Kyle’s concern was that rockfalls may have altered the landscape since the last reconnaissance photos were taken. He also had one other essential piece of equipment buried deep in his pack—a packet of coffee. There were a few other useful items in there as well. Things that he hadn’t shown to Brock.

  After brief goodbyes with the rest of the team, he and Brock donned their light rain gear, crossed the stream that bordered the camp on a dubious bridge made of a single log and trudged along a narrow, muddy trail into the cloud forest.

  As he hiked, keeping pace with Kyle’s long stride, Brock gazed around. His fingers kept contact with the camera case slung over his shoulder on a long strap, itching to take it out and frame some shots. It was as if they were hiking through a verdant cathedral. A dense canopy of woven tree branches arched overhead, absorbing most of the sunlight and casting everything in an emerald glow. Brock had read that less than ten percent of the sun’s light pierced through to reach the forest floor. Because of this, the lowest level of the forest, where they walked now, was clear of vegetation. The narrow path was muddy but easy enough to see. Here the forest was a world of
shadow and decomposition—the domain of insects, fungi and roots. Brock spotted enough wriggly beasts to give him nightmares for months. He shuddered and gave silent thanks that Kyle had insisted they wear full-length trousers rather than cooler shorts.

  Still, the lack of vegetation didn’t necessarily make trekking through the forest an easy journey. Rotted logs and branches lay everywhere, coated with yellow mold and white mushrooms. A slick mulch of decaying black leaves threatened his footing, while protruding roots added to the risk of a twisted ankle.

  The way was too narrow to walk side by side, so Brock contented himself with watching Kyle’s easy lope. The man moved with enviable confidence.

  “I can hear you thinking from here,” Kyle called back.

  “Plenty to think about. How long till we reach the cliffs?”

  “If we push on, four, maybe five hours. We should be there by lunchtime if we’re not delayed. Then we should be able to complete the climb in the light and camp at the top.”

  “Are there paths the whole way? I’m kind of surprised that we’re not hacking our way through the vegetation.”

  “The tracks are there if you know where to look. You researched a bit about the indigenous peoples, didn’t you?”

  “Sure. They’re called the U’wa.” Brock paused and clambered over a fallen log. “They’re peaceful people.”

  “That’s right. Both the U’wa and the cloud forest are among the last of their kind in the world and that’s part of the reason we’re here. Industry in the U’wa territory has contributed to a climate of violence. It’s an easy situation for terrorists to take advantage of because anyone who isn’t corrupt is being pulled in so many different directions that their activity goes unchallenged.”

  Kyle came to a dead stop and pointed up toward the canopy.

  “Up there,” he whispered.

  Instinctively, and with slow movements, Brock pulled out his camera. On a branch just a few feet above Kyle’s head sat a dark red primate.

  “Wow, red howler monkey. A real beauty.” Brock snapped off a couple of shots. “Not bothered by us at all.” He kept his voice low but the monkey just stared at him curiously.

  “They probably got used to the scientists being around. I expect there’s a whole tribe of them around here somewhere. Monkeys, that is, not scientists.”

  He moved off quietly.

  “So back to the U’wa. They consider themselves guardians of the forest and the species that live here, including our monkey friend.”

  “They must be in constant danger,” Brock murmured.

  “Yes, and from the worst kind of predators. The U’wa have stated that they are willing to die to keep oil drilling off their ancestral homelands and unfortunately that’s what’s happening. Terrorists need funding. Oil companies will pay indiscriminately for access to new parcels of land. The U’wa are in the way.”

  “So what we’re doing will help them, as well as whoever it is you work for?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They fell silent and continued to walk. Brock mulled over in his head what Kyle had said. He felt a whole lot better about their mission, knowing that it might help the local people. Kyle had sounded very intense. He was clearly affected by the situation and that only increased Brock’s affection for him. Brock was no environmental activist, but he did hope that his work helped to highlight environmental issues around the world.

  Brock began to feel the burn in his calves and thighs as the route got steeper. Sweat soaked his body beneath the thin raincoat and the ever-present mist saturated his hair until it clung in tendrils about his face. He recalled the maps he’d seen back in England. This stage of the journey was particularly arduous as they had to scale the lower slopes of a heavily forested mountain before reaching the base of the cliff they needed to ascend. His boots skidded on the slippery ground and he adjusted the pack on his back to regain balance. He put his head down and trudged on, concentrating on keeping his footing. Neither of them could afford an injury so early in their journey.

  From then on, the territory got more unyielding. At times, Kyle had to use his machete to cut a trail through the dense vegetation. Several times they crossed waterways clogged with debris. Brock took pictures when he could, though it was usually Kyle who spotted the wildlife first and pointed it out. Several colorful birds, a bright yellow frog and some spectacular orchids were enshrined on Brock’s memory card, along with plenty of atmospheric shots of light filtering through the mist-shrouded verdure. They stopped for a break in a clearing where the land fell away to reveal a sweeping view of the endless trees. Along the side of the valley, a cliff face could be seen—a stark white streak against the green. Kyle observed cracks and ledges running down most of the face and the silver glitter of falling water.

  Kyle chewed on a cereal bar and took deep swallows from his water canteen.

  “That’s where we have to get to.” He pointed across to the cliffs. “We need to climb up a bit farther before we head across the valley side. It will level out somewhat but the going won’t get any easier until we reach the base of the rocks. Then we follow them for a quarter of a mile or so to reach the place where we can get out of the trees and start the ascent.”

  Brock tossed Kyle an apple. “It’s going to be an interesting climb.”

  “It’s seven hundred feet, but not technically difficult. The surface is rough. Plenty of hand and footholds. The worst part is just before the top where there’s a slight overhang, but there is a route around if it’s too dangerous to go over.”

  “I can’t wait.” Brock munched on his apple. “Can you imagine the shots I’ll be able to get of the view? I’ll bet there will be plenty of birds nesting up there, too. I love to catch them in flight. Climbing makes it feel as if I’m out in the air with them.”

  Kyle smiled, warming Brock’s heart.

  “You are amazing. You see beauty in everything, don’t you?”

  “There is beauty in everything.” Brock lifted his camera and took a shot of Kyle against the dramatic backdrop.

  “Even in me?”

  “Especially in you.”

  “I think you should book an appointment with your optician when we get back to England. There’s definitely something wrong with your eyesight,” Kyle said in a dry tone.

  “I have perfect vision. Anyway, the camera doesn’t lie. You’ll see, when I turn that picture into a giant poster.” Brock stowed his camera away. “Are you going to dawdle here all day, or are we going to get moving?” He put his hands on his hips and scowled but couldn’t hold the expression, which broke down into a grin.

  Kyle tossed his apple core into the undergrowth and got to his feet. “I think it might make an interesting experiment to see how far you can hike with a vibrating plug shoved up your ass. Any more cheek from you and we are going to find out.”

  Brock took a few rapid paces down the path.

  With their goal in sight—if only in occasional glimpses through the trees—the rest of the trek seemed to go quickly. Even the plant life became less resistant to their passage and at times the path grew wide enough that they could trudge alongside each other. The effort of walking made conversation difficult but the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. Brock enjoyed the companionship and the knowledge that every step took them closer to completing their mission. Perhaps then, they could consider a life together.

  They made good time and shortly before noon, Kyle broke through the trees at the base of the cliff. Brock stepped into the open air and gasped. To one side, the sheer rock rose above them, a seemingly impenetrable wall. To the other, the world stretched out in a sea of green. Miles of forest clung to valleys and mountainsides. Nebulous clouds of mist gave everything a mysterious air but the sun, clear and bright, lit every damp leaf with diamond sparkles. Brock couldn’t resist taking a few pictures before they ate. While he framed the vistas with a practiced eye, Kyle disappeared back into the forest and came back with fruit fresh from the trees to supplement
their rations.

  “Tonight, we’ll try to trap something so that we can have fresh meat. Rehydrated food is fine, but if we don’t have to eat it, I’ll be happy.”

  “As long as you take charge of the barbecue. I’m a hopeless outdoor cook.” Brock recalled his last attempt to cook sausages on his brother’s garden grill. The resultant blackened sticks of meat had been charcoal on the outside and raw on the inside. They’d all ended up in the neighbor’s dog.

  “Of course. But first we have to get up that.” Kyle pointed up to the towering cliff.

  Brock checked the ground for anything that might want to take a bite out of him, then lay back so that he could take in the climb.

  “It’s impressive but doable. We should be able to free climb.” In his head he could picture the routes across the rock like a drawing. There were several options and a couple of good resting points. He’d tackled far more challenging ascents.

  “We should, but I still want to take some basic precautions. We can’t risk injury, not out here. I need to keep you in one piece.”

  They finished their meal and drank plenty of water.

  “I’m going to feel this sloshing around inside me on the way up,” Brock complained.

  “Better that than dehydration,” Kyle responded. “We may be soaking wet, but climbing in this heat is going to suck the moisture out of us.”

  “What a delightful image. Why don’t we get started?”

  Brock took off his boots and damp hiking socks and exchanged them for light, rubber-soled climbing shoes. He made sure his pack was secure and shifted his camera bag into a more accessible position.

  Kyle made similar preparations. “You can lead.”

  “Really?” Brock was surprised. He’d assumed that Kyle would want to go first.

  “I’m not stupid. You’re a far more expert climber than I am. You can pick out the safest route and I’ll follow. Just don’t kick any rocks down onto my head and use the safety line where you need to.” He handed over the coiled rope. Brock threw it over his shoulder and fastened the belt full of D-rings around his waist.