07-July-2003
Sandrock's Prince Part 1/ ~5
A Gundam Wing Fanfiction
By Andrea Readwolf andrea_readwolf @hotmail.com
Pairings: 4 x everybody, 4x1 primarily in this part, leading towards 4x3/3x4 +C
Warnings: Sex, harems, slavery, and things I'm really not knowing of and
hence, flying by the seat of my pants for. ^____^ Yaoi & Het, sorry, no Yuri
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing ain't mine, what a shame.
Notes: Some people may recognize this--yes, it's from the set of Lemon Stand
dedicated stories. A few asked me if there was more; I've finally gotten
around to writing more now that _A Matter of Heart Series_ has passed.
Notes: Hmm... I'm working on three fics at once, and have another three
almost ready for posting. Gee... what a busy girl I've been.
Notes: For those who were asking, yes I am currently working on an MoH fic;
no, this is not it. In fact, this has absolutely nothing to do with MoH
except, once again, Quatre dominates all and Duo still tops Heero.
The wagon pulled to a stop, lurching its contents around uncaringly. People cried out, some moaned, others were too scared to make even a whimper. The door to the cage was thrown open and the naked and shivering bodies inside were slowly unloaded, the shackles on their legs hindering any chance of escape.
He was the first one off, the newest acquisition, given up as duty to their current ruler. They were paraded around for a group of large, dark-haired and sunburned men. The men groped and prodded their bodies, studied their mouths, hair, genitals, until satisfied with their inspection.
"This one and those two," the largest man in the group announced. He was separated from the others along with two females. The others were lead away.
"Come with me," the man ordered, turning and heading off in a different direction from the other slaves. There was a yank on the chain, and sullenly, the three followed the man. They were taken into a bathing house, the chains stripped from their ankles, and then their bodies were pushed into the water.
It was warm and fragrant, soothing on sore feet and muscles. The man tossed the trio scraps of soap and ordered them to clean themselves.
He didn't waste time; enjoying the first real opportunity to slew the grit and grime off his body.
Four women entered the room, bearing 'gifts'.
Satisfied with his bath, he left the small pool and did not resist when one of the woman approached him with a towel and began patting him dry. It was warm, and soft. A second woman approached with bottles of scented oils. These she rubbed into his skin, generously pouring and slicking the sun-golden body before stepping back for the third woman.
She looked at him, studied his eyes, hair, skin color and body tone before turning to her bundle of colorful cloth. From this, she pulled out two things: something that acted like pants, covering the legs but hiding nothing, and a vest. Both pieces of material were shades of dark blue laced with silver threads that danced and shimmered as the cloth moved in the light. He looked at the transparent pants she held out to him and then took the garment and quickly donned it. It was the first stitch of clothing he'd worn in weeks.
The fourth woman stepped up to him as the first three attendants coaxed the two girls from the bath water. She cuffed a two-toned gold-silver band around his upper arm, another band that rested like a loose choker around his neck, a cuff was attached to his ear as bangles were slipped around his ankles. To complete the ensemble, the woman looped a coined belt around his hips.
The man who had led them here said something to the woman in a language he did not understand. She blushed and batted her eyes as she replied. Her answer must have pleased the man for he smiled broadly and almost laughed.
"Come along," he said, his voice booming with authority. The two girls scurried forward, dressed similar to him. The fourth attendant was rushing to attach bits of jewelry to the girls as the man led them from the room.
"You will be taken to see his exaltedness," the man informed them. "When you are before him, you will kneel, palms flat on the ground, arms extended before you. You are not permitted to look at him unless he specifically commands it is so. If you are chosen, you will be taken into the palace. If you are not, you will be taken elsewhere."
The man said no more as they had approached a gilded doorway guarded by two men dark enough and large enough to be their escort's relatives. The doors were pulled open for them and the native men greeted each other in their own tongue.
Briefly, he wondered what their ruler was like, and which option he preferred his fate to follow: to be chosen, or not.
His heart began to race. The floor beneath his bare feet was cold marble. There were pillows just within the line of his downcast vision, and what appeared to be material similar to what he was wearing lay about in pools. And then the man stopped them and addressed what must have been their ruler.
Obediently, he fell to his knees and stretched his arms out before him, palms to the ground, his nose pressed to the cold marble-like floor. Beside him, the two girls fell into a similar position. The minutes stretched out, each was asked to stand. Finally, they were dismissed, all without having understood a word that was spoken.
They were led into another room and one of the girls was led away. She began to cry hysterically, which started the other girl crying. He ignored them. Two men approached him. One circled behind and pulled his vest back down over his arms, blocking their movement. The other man came forward, something shiny in his fingers.
Eyes flared but lips remained shut as something cold pierced through the flesh of his left nipple. Beside him the girl screamed. He looked and saw two other men had pulled down her pants and pierced the soft folds of flesh between her thighs. Quickly, his attention snapped forward again, looking at the man in front of him. The man smiled and stood, violet eyes dancing with mirth. He looked about to say something when another door opened and another man and woman entered.
The man approached him, smiling in a way that seemed almost friendly. "You are to come with me," he said, his voice soft and reassuring.
He followed the new man, silently, until they reached a new chamber--a bedchamber.
"What is expected of me?" he asked, the question burning his mind and now his ill-used throat.
The other man, boy really, turned and smiled, slicking dark black hair behind his shoulder. "You have been chosen by the son of the D'Lar," he told him. "You are to be his until the time he comes to have no use or want of you."
He looked down at his feet. What more was there to say, really? He was now a slave. His body no longer his own property. He belonged to another.
A gentle tug on his arm saved him from his self-pity. "Come," the other boy said, leading him to the large plush bed. "You must be tired from your journey. Rest here and I will have food brought in for you."
He nodded, mumbling words of gratitude in his own native tongue. He was asleep before his body had truly settled into the bed.
He felt warm and comfortable and, he realized, safe. And he didn't want to wake up from this dream's illusions.
"It's okay to wake up," a voice whispered next to his ear.
Immediately, he was alert, rolling off the soft cushions and onto the floor in a crouch. His mind raced to pull all sensory information about his surroundings.
Dark. Possibly nighttime. The Palace of the D'lar. The D'Lar's son's property. Bed chambers. Richly furnished. Good smelling food, nearby. Soft music playing somewhere. Stringed instruments.
Ethereal creature, sitting up in the bed, among the silken pillows he'd just vacated.
The creature smiled at him, brilliant light blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Pale golden hair fell against a gently sun-kissed expanse of skin. The boy--yes, it was a boy, probably no older than his own 16 years--was dressed similarly to himself in fashion. His pants and vest were becoming shades of teal and aqua with golden threads laced throughout. There was a golden, multi-blue-jeweled band on his arm and a dangling cuff in his ear. The elaborate necklace displayed proudly over the upper portions of the boy's chest also sported gold and blue coloring.
"Good. You're spirited," the creature said, his voice sounding soothing upon Heero's ears and spirit. "I was worried they might have drugged you. I'm glad."
The boy had surprised him. "You speak my tongue."
Again, the boy smiled. "Yes, I know a little. Wufei was kind enough to teach me. My name is Quatre. What is yours?"
He stood from his crouch, studying the other boy. "I have no name," he answered finally.
The boy frowned for the first time, and he was struck with the urge to do anything to replace that smile.
"Everyone has a name," Quatre replied, scooting over to the edge of the bed.
"I lost my name when I was given up as duty," he clarified.
Quatre seemed to accepted this response and nodded. "Well, then, what shall I call you?"
"You may call me that which you wish," the dark-haired boy replied, bowing his head.
This seemed not to suit his new master however, for the boy asked him, " What name were you then given at birth?"
"Heero."
"Then I shall call you Heero as well," Quatre announced, smiling once more.
"If you wish, Master."
"Quatre," the blond boy corrected.
"If you wish, Master Quatre," Heero repeated.
"No," the blond laughed, reaching out for Heero. "When we are alone you may call me 'Quatre', Heero." He tasted the name of the dark haired boy on his tongue and decided it suited him quite well.
"Come here." He tugged gently on the boy's arm and waiting for Heero to step closer before pulling him onto the bed and under him.
"There are many things I would like to show you, my Heero," Quatre said softly, smiling down at his newest acquisition, brushing dark bangs away from blue eyes. "But they can wait until you are well rested and well fed."
"I am fine," Heero insisted, laying still and looking down away from the other boy.
"Yes," Quatre murmured, tilting Heero's face up to look at him. "You are most certainly fine," Hands brushed over Heero's cheeks, throat, and shoulders, playing with his hair and skimming down his arms and chest, his torso and sides. "Tell me, Heero. Do you understand what it means for a man to desire another man?"
Soundlessly, the dark-haired boy nodded.
"Do you understand that I desire you and you are mine?" Fingers pulled delicately at the sorely abused nipple, which had been pierced earlier.
Heero gasped at the renewed reminder of his earlier ordeal, but again nodded.
"Good," Quatre whispered before his lips stole the other boy's.
Heero felt his body fall deeply into the cushiony bed as Quatre's body pressed down upon his. His legs opened obediently, giving the blond boy complete access to his body.
"I desired you from the minute you walked through the door today, Heero. I've spent the entire afternoon imagining what I would do to you once I had you alone."
Heero didn't replied, mainly because Quatre was kissing him again; the blond boy's hands roaming freely over his scantily clad body. The material didn't even need to be parted to enjoy the weight of Quatre's manhood pressing against his. But part it, Quatre did, pulling the gauze-like garment from Heero's legs, leaving the belt and anklets to jingle against darkened skin.
The blond removed his own attirements before climbing back onto the bed and easing the vest off Heero's shoulders. His lips drank from the sun-darkened toned body; tiny nibbling kisses raining down over Heero's throat and collarbone. A tongue darted out and flicked the cold ring of blue metal laying against one pectoral muscle.
"This marks you as mine," Quatre informed the darkened boy beneath him.
"Yours," Heero repeated, groaning as his hips arched forward, seeking any kind of friction. It found some in the medium of Quatre's hand, moving around his shaft and squeezing.
"Exquisite," the blond breathed. "Rashid knows my tastes so well."
"Ma-Q-Quatre!" Heero's voice moaned as Quatre's nimble fingers worked over his flesh.
Quatre turned and pressed his face between Heero's legs, inhaling the uniquely male scent of the boy under him. He straddled the boy's face, rolling and pulling Heero up over him so that the boy was faced with his own strong arousal, just below those sweetly parted lips.
"Suck me, Heero," he commanded softly before his own tongue flicked out over the dripping cock above him.
Another gasp caught the dark boy as the golden one began swallowing his manhood with a very talented mouth. Tentatively, having nothing to go on but what was being done to him, Heero closed his lips around the shaft bobbing below his lips. Quatre's actions led his own as the two boys suckled eagerly and pleasantly.
Quatre's hands slid around Heero's waist, down over that finely muscled ass, and with very little warning, inserted a finger into the boy's other opening.
Heero came right then. Pulling back with shock as his muscles contracted painfully, spilling his essence right into the mouth eagerly swallowing what he gave.
Tiny shivers raced throughout his body and gently, Quatre rolled them back over and sat up on Heero's thighs, watching the dark boy recover. "Beautiful," he sighed. "I knew you would be magnificent, Heero." He leaned forward and thrust his tongue deep within the stated boy's mouth, forcing the taste of himself onto Heero's tongue.
"Mine, all mine."
"Yours," Heero breathed, eyes still shut as he concentrated on pulling air into his starved lungs.
"I want to hear you scream, Heero," Quatre continued to whisper, reaching for one of the bottles that had been left for them. "When I'm inside you, riding you, I want to hear your voice calling out to me."
He up-ended one of the bottle's contents in his palm and with the other hand, helped pushed Heero's thighs farther apart. "I want to know how much you enjoy me riding you, Heero, do you understand?"
"Yes!" His hips snapped back into the hand as one finger began playing his body, mimicking the motions Quatre's shaft would be taking very soon. "Please," he wet his lips, working up the energy to obey the other man's desires. "It feels so good. I want more."
"Very good, Heero," Quatre replied, ghosting his lips over Heero's chest as he inserted another finger, stretching the tight little ass.
"Please. I want… I want…"
"Tell me what you want, Heero."
"You. Inside me. Please," Heero panted, eyes watering with uncontainable pleasure and need as the blond unerringly continued to strike that sweet spot inside of him. "Need you."
Quatre growled passionately as he lifted Heero's legs up by his thighs and his hips snapped forward, moving over that sweet puckered opening. He moved again, and again, teasing the entrance to Heero's body. Below him the darkened boy wreathed and panted and begged until the blond took pity on his new lover and, with the next thrust, greeted Heero's tight little body with his swollen shaft.
Both boys moaned with gratitude.
"Please, Quatre," Heero begged. "Fuck me."
'How could I refuse?' the blond thought, repositioning his hold on the dark-haired boy in his bed before moving in and out of the exquisitely tight ass.
"So good. So good," he told the boy.
"More. Please. Harder. More!" the other replied.
Pillows scattered away from their frenzied mating. The sheets pulled out from their carefully tucked corners. Quatre rolled back, forcing Heero's body up until the dark boy was straddling the golden one.
"Ride me, Heero," Quatre's breathless voice commanded. "Use my body for you pleasure. Let me see your pleasure."
Heero's hips crashed down against Quatre's pelvis, crushing and bruising as he followed orders, using Quatre's body to gain pleasure. A hand wrapped around his proud standing flesh, squeezing, stroking, coaxing him into another orgasm.
Heero needed little encouragement.
As Heero's cum shot out over his stomach and chest, Quatre allowed his spasming muscles to bring himself to release as well, filling the beautiful dark boy with his semen. When the boy collapsed, Quatre gathered him into his arms and held him close.
"Exquisite. And all mine."
A sleepy voice answered back, "Hai. Yours."
TBC
Andrea Readwolf
Please send comments to: andrea_readwolf@hotmail.com