The Horny Officer : Part 3


(Part 1 from 1. Fiction.)

In the morning Dar Vaie was woken by a beam of sunshine falling into his eyes from the uncurtained window. He lay tall, lean and hard-muscled, wrapped close in the embrace of the big soft muscular body he had pleasured so thoroughly the night before. He stared at the sun gleaming in the cropped blond velvet hair. The lad’s face was soft and a little flushed in sleep. There were tear stains on his cheeks.

In that moment Dar Vaie knew that he had not been so lucky as to lose only his head. His heart had gone over, gone to nestle entangled in the big gentle fingers of an hand curled softly about his back, lying close to his buttocks as if the fingers might get into the habit of giving one buttock an affectionate squeeze whenever he woke in Dar Vaie’s arms. Dar Vaie knew nothing about this lad, nothing except the feel of his body, all its parts and openings and gentleness, but he knew that this was his heart’s home.

He woke up a little more and pretended it was just a pleasurable interlude, a bit of fun after the long journey with his troop down into Iarve. What was the harm, even if he did fall for some Iarvian lovely. The Commander – his own former Commander, Clair el Maien, the future sworn Lord, was married to Lady Arianna el Jien who had formerly been van Iarve. They would not be going to war with Iarve as they had been obliged to go to war with those scum H’las in the neighbouring region. Iarve was a long journey but it was even possible he could get the lad transferred into the Sietter army if he used his considerable influence – not to his own troop of course. Junior-senior officer affair: hanging offence.

Idly he gave the velvet soft cropped blond head on the pillows beside him a gentle caress. The lad slept on, his muscular limbs lying around Dar’s thin hard body completely relaxed, he was utterly spent by the night of passion Dar had lured him into. He was still young and new enough that they probably had to boot him out of his bedding on the mornings he was supposed to go and make the tea and coffee and take the Captain his breakfast. Dar Vaie was a seasoned officer and he always woke half an hour before the first call to duty even though nowadays he could lie there thinking about the day ahead until his man-servant came with a bowl of tea made exactly as he liked it.

After a while, Vaie stirred and attempted to disentangle himself from the lad’s loose soft warm embrace.

The lad’s eyes drifted open and he stared with that clear limpid blue gaze on Dar for a moment. Then he smiled. So soft, so tender, so open and trusting a smile, Dar could not forbear to lean in for his kiss before he climbed out of the bed. His lean rangy limbs tensed in expectation of the lad clinging and begging him to stay.

But the lad only lay in a loose sprawl of big muscular limbs, his warm wide mouth pouted sadly and his eyes drifting away from Dar as if he did not want to watch Dar leaving.

Dar pulled on his breeches and the shirt with an hard patch in it where the lad’s sperm had dried into it. He did not bother with his socks and the thigh length army boots so awkward to get in and out of. Finally he admitted, “I am only going to get in a bit of food for us to break our fast.”
“If you are leaving, I had rather you just went,” the lad answered, still not looking at him.
“Um, well, I meant to take a day at leisure,” Dar admitted. “If you have nothing planned perhaps ... you might spend it with me?”

His grey eyes were as soft as the unexpectedly delicate down on an eagle’s breast, turning aside as the lad’s blue eyes lifted, as though in his turn he could not to be given the go-by. The lad only smiled, nestling his cropped blond head back into the pillows and asking for coffee with his breakfast.

Dar slung his weaponry casually back around his hips and went down to where a night servant was dozing in a chair in the hotel’s small reception hall. After ordering some food and their tea and coffee, he asked for paper, pen and ink. He only hesitated about which of his Captains to give the acting command to, even though they had only established the encampment two days and had not yet undertaken a full reconnoitre of the surrounding area. The trouble with having a clutch of tip-top rising young stars under your command as he did was that they were inclined to think up some rabbit-brained notion if allowed out from under your eye.

Angels, Vaie sometimes felt as exhausted as a parent. He had twenty wilful children! he had to continually hold in check the impulsive whims of four young Captains and sixteen starry-eyed bloody Lieutenants, all of them vying for his praise with their silly nonsense. But it was lovely when they got it right and fell into place with your arm their signal so perfectly to give you an elegant victory.

He fished his seal out of his pocket and pressed it into the wax holding his rapidly penned orders together, scrawled the current designation for the troop on the front of the packet and asked for it to be sent with despatch.
“As wishes’t it,” the night servant said in that curious Iarvian accent, pocketing the coins Dar slipped him with a bright smile.

When Dar came back in the room, the lad had made the bed up from its rumpled tossed condition, pulling the stained sheets into sharp corners and disposing the blanket and quilt with admirable neatness over the of the bed. He sat dressed in his stained blue cotton shirt and underpants on one of the two chairs at the small table by the window, leaning his head on one arm with the early morning summer sunshine pouring golden around his big shoulders.

Dar crossed the room rapidly to take his head in thin long fingers and press kisses to it, his scarred and unscarred fingers running in increasing urgency about the lad’s ears and neck and the velvet stubble on his chin, pressing his thin mouth in quick kisses to the lad’s upturned giggling face but they came knocking at the door with the tea, coffee and sweet rolls.

He was starving hungry and the lad began consuming the food with similar enthusiasm and slurping eagerly at his bowl of milky coffee in which he had put two sugars. The sweet rolls took the edge off their appetites so they lingered over the cooked breakfast and began chatting while enjoying the crisp salty bacon strips and long thin spicy sausages doused in fried tomato and dipped into yellow egg yolk, the golden slices of fried bread. Dar knew it was a mistake to but the whole thing had gone disastrously off-mission, ever since he came and brought the lad a bowl of bloody breakfast ale instead of sheering off into the night to some rougher tavern where an easy favour could be his for the taking.

“I was going to take an half day ... I mean a day at leisure and go to some art exhibition that is on in the town,” was Dar’s opening gambit. The blush rose in red patches in his face. He had intended to pretend he was only stopping here with the lad paying bloody top price for their room because it was slightly more entertaining than a bloody lot of paintings. Instead he had inadvertently revealed that he had only ever intended to spend an half day away from the troop, not two whole nights and a day, which he would be questioned hard about by the Generals’ strategic staff if they ever found out about it.

But the lad had not noticed his slip, his eyes lit up and he said: “Oh the Namoon School exhibition. You should go, some of the work being shown is classic of their style. When I heard that they were sending an exhibition to show in Iarve I begged it of my family to let me visit my uncle and aunt so I could see it.”

“You know about art?” Dar said with interest, pushing a tasty collection of sausage, tomato and egg onto his fork. “You are a Knight’s son then?”

The lad laughed at that, his velvety cropped blond head swinging round in amusement. “No my dear,” he said with a faintly mocking emphasis on the lazy aristocratic endearment Vaie was accustomed to chuck about. “Not like you. You are a Knight, is it not? I am a cloth merchant’s son.”

Dar Vaie was very surprised by this. An officer-aristocrat, not only a tip-top Commander but also a wealthy young Knight with dominion over a key trading post close to the Maier Pass which ran through Sietter from H’las on the coast and Vail and the Eastern regions on the road to court, he tended to regard merchants as mere riff-raff of trade, not as people who knew about the Namoon School, had been taken into a troop staffed by tip-top officers and had a laughing intelligence glinting in their round blue eye.

The lad giggled as if he knew perfectly well what a snob Dar Vaie was but why should he care, this was but an one-day-one-night, he was not going to have to take Vaie home and impose his arrogance on his family. Well, one-day-two-nights hopefully. Dar Vaie grinned a blushing embarrassed grin. He hoped it would only be two nights. He had begun to suspect it might take a life-time to get this big-shouldered lovely out of his heart.

“Do you have brothers and sisters?” the lad enquired with a smile, gently forgiving of Dar Vaie’s arrogant ignorance about the cultured ways of the wealthier merchants, whose networks of trade ran widespread to knit the country together while the aristos squabbled between their regions and disrupted plans for prosperity.


“Um, two sisters,” Dar admitted. His grey eyes hardened on the lad at being obliged to talk about his family with someone he had only intended to fuck, and a merchant’s son at that. Then he sighed and went on, slowly, not looking into that limpid loving blue gaze. “And there is my mother. My father passed a two-three years back.” The lad made a sympathetic grimace but Dar ignored this, slurping casually at his tea as if it were a nothing to lose the father who had always been so proud of you and had done everything to advance your career in the army you loved, who never mentioned that he wished you would hurry up and bring home some husband to settle you down although you saw the wistful look in his eye whenever you came home on leave and he asked if you had found anyone special.

“You are the oldest?” the lad enquired. “You are responsible for the lands you hold from your sworn Lord and the people on them? That must be difficult to manage, with a troop to command as well.”

Dar grinned and sighed and said, “Yes, my dear, a bloody packet of trouble, letters to and fro all the while from the seneschal, and here are my sisters coming to an age when my mother says I should look about for people to bestow them on. She is always on at me to have some of my fellow officers back for some hunting or to make a trip to the Vail flat races, so the girls might have the chance to meet a prospect but we are so much at war in ... in my region. I tell it her to take the girls to visit the future sworn Lord and Lady instead; they will sometimes make a for the young ones if sufficient come by on the day in the month when they receive the Knights and Dames.”

The lad turned his head with a small puzzled frown at this. It did not sound much like the set-out here in Iarve where he had assumed this gorgeous lean hardened warrior was from. However he realised that Vaie was still unwilling to part with information which might lead to him being traced back and troubled by casual bits of trimming he had tripped over out on campaign so he volunteered some information about his own family instead; his older brothers and sister who worked with his father and mother in their family business, liaising across the country with their uncles and aunts and colleagues in the cloth trade and related businesses. Dar Vaie listened with half an ear and said they must be proud to see the lad taken up into the army and the lad rolled around laughing at that.

“Oh no!” he said. “My family are political. They were not at all pleased and did their best to discourage me from thinking about the as a child. I had to beg it of them forever to let me try for a commission. I am some years the youngest. My sister cried to see me go away from home! can you picture it. My mother was so busy with the business, my sister was the one who mainly cared for me as a baby you see. But they are so good to me, bought me two matched horses when I left and are forever sending cakes and treats and books they think I might like to read, and stuff for the Captain to whom they are grateful because he takes such good care of us juniors.” He blushed a bit at mention of his beloved Captain.

Dar Vaie glanced briefly at the sword and dagger set hanging off the foot of the bed, realising suddenly that although they were not elaborately decorated like his own to aristocratic taste, they were of high quality and must have cost a coin or ten. The lad was casually slurping at the coffee that was as creamy and sweet as he was, still laughing at Dar Vaie’s ignorance about the merchant class. Dar got up and, taking hold of his big fingers, tugged him back towards the bed made so neatly that even that darling Captain of this sweetheart baby Lieutenant could not have found any fault with it – apart from the occasional dried stain in the sheets.

As they walked back to the bed, stripping off their clothes again, Dar turned, his shirt in his thin fingers. The lad was looking in a wide-eyed blue stare at his lean tall body in the early morning sunshine. Dar Vaie remembered then what his torso looked like, he took in a sharp breath but he let the lad stare. The lad had a golden pale skin with only the lightest of tans picked up from swimming or running bare-chested perhaps out on manoeuvres. His skin was creamy soft and wholly unmarked.

Slanting diagonally down Dar Vaie’s chest ran the long thin white scar he got in the duel over one of his juniors, whom some scum officer from First picked up and promised a marriage ring to but then kicked out of his bed when some prettier bloody kid strayed in his path. (Still, you should see what that bloody scum looked like nowadays, Dar made him cry on the Angel of Mercy.) There was a reddish sort of knot under Dar’s left breast where he was hit by an arrow one time the encampment came under attack before they had time to get into their mailcoats.

His legs were criss-crossed with the jagged scars of battle and there was that slashing set of wounds across his left knuckles which he got at the most terrible battle of the Sietter-H’las war: Shier Bridge, a name that was legendary from a war where they had fought so hard that most of the battles did not even have names. Angels only knew what the H’las said of that bloody day when they had suffered a dreadful shaming defeat. The memory of it would make any Sietter man or officer who had been there to follow the signal that was Clair el Maien’s arm go white and tremble and start weeping.

They suffered the victory of that day, using a strategy of such cold-hearted elegance that afterwards the troop had to be completely stripped out and reformed, not a man of them could stand by his brother soldiers’ sides to fight ever again.

The lad’s blue eyes as they lifted from his lover’s scarred and hard body were a conflicted mass of emotions: admiration, wonder, fear. Pity. Vaie’s mouth twisted ruefully then he chucked his clothes and weaponry over the footboard of the bed and strode forward naked with his sword arm held out. “My name is Dar,” he said.

That tangled skein of emotions in the lad’s blue eyes slipped away to leave a warm affection shining softly through. “Hanya,” the lad said, grasping Dar’s sword arm in his and wrapping his left hand about the elbow. He stared into Dar’s face, his grip tightened in response to the hard grip of the commanding officer whose fighting arm he held. He grinned suddenly, reached out and put his left hand about the back of Dar’s strawberry blond head, he pulled it into his kiss.

Dar went willingly, opening his mouth for Hanya’s tongue, allowing his naked tall lean body to stand in close, close up against Hanya’s broad muscular body. Hanya’s hands were on his waist, pulling him harder to the big soft muscled chest, Dar felt that big thick cock pressing to his lean thigh and gasped in excitement in their kiss. To his surprise, Hanya was starting to push him back, not to the bed but to the wall, his big fingers were playing insistently around Dar’s hips and waist and thighs and buttocks, squeezing the hard muscles of the buttocks.

As Hanya shoved him assertively back to the wall, Dar Vaie understood that merchant’s son or whoever, he was in the hands of a tip-top rising young officer, one of those bright shining stars he and his former brother officers fought each other over in loving rivalry. All of them – except poor bloody el Maien – were Commanders out in the field, all were pinned for strategic, the Generals only vied over which one of them to favour most. They had been the rising stars in their day, nick-named the Angels for their beauty and military skills, and they competed hard and fast for this kind of intelligent aggressive young cub with the demanding hands.

Dar Vaie felt breathless. He never normally submitted to having a favour pushed on him, he was always the one who took a dominant fucking position. He could not remember experiencing this kind of knee-trembling pleasure in submission since the days he had been a baby Lieutenant himself. That bloody pale Angel Tashka el Maien dared him to give the eye to one of the bloody Generals – in on formal parade! And stupid fool, he had done it. He could still remember the incredulous look in the General’s eye, the look of disbelieving horror in the eye of Captain-Lord el Jien – and the husky evil snigger of Lieutenant-Lord Tashka el Maien van Sietter by his side.

The General was generous. He turned away with some comment about Caja Nain’s buttons not being polished, giving Tashka el Maien a piercing stare and the Commander’s shoulder (it was in the old Commander, Stariel’s, day) a sympathetic squeeze. Stariel was a brilliant manager of the juniors but everyone knew that young Lieutenant-Lord Tashka el Maien had the entire troop wrapped around his fingers and exploited his charm to the hilt.

Later that night the General caught Vaie out by the armoury wall and grabbed him by the gold-embroidered collar of his red felt winter tunic, turned him into the shadows of the wall, pulled his breeches down to expose his buttocks in the wintry air and gave him the fucking of a lifetime with an hand over Vaie’s mouth to stifle his mingled screams of pain and pleasure.

Hanya’s grip was no less assertive than that General’s had been yet strangely gentle at the same time. Dar knew that if he displayed the least resistance, Hanya would courteously give way, allow Dar the pleasure of penetrating him again. Dar gritted his teeth with his grey eyes sparkling in his grin and forced himself to relax in Hanya’s big hands, to be pushed about as easily as had been that petrified baby Lieutenant, slack-muscled with lust and craving, in the General’s fierce hard hands.

Hanya was no brutal Sietter General, seeking to take his own selfish pleasure and teach a lesson to a cheeky cub who had foolishly twisted the lion’s tail. He turned Dar into the wall but his hands were caressing as well as assertive and his mouth began bestowing soft warm wet kisses on the back of Dar Vaie’s neck, making the tiny hairs there lift and Dar moan with arousal and spread his legs. Dar was still trembling with the effort to crush down his instinctive impulse to react, his normally active drive in temporary abeyance to the absolute overwhelming desire to give way, submit, be still and passive for the thick big cock that he knew hung between Hanya’s legs.

A finger came gently lubricating Dar’s hole, Dar gasped and groaned and quivered with pleasure, grunting with the longing for that big cock to push in but Hanya – unlike the General – was not willing to take pleasure without preparing Dar for so large a member in the tender entrance to his body. He was running his finger about to spread Dar’s hole wider, gently pressing a second finger at the sensitive rim, listening intently to the quality of Dar’s moans to ensure they were those of pleasure not the sharp gasp of pain. His two fingers had slipped in now, Dar spread his legs quivering as he leaned face into the wall, his whole body felt like a burning begging yearning mass longing for Hanya’s cock in his arse but he managed to remember himself and gasp: “Condom, condom! Angels’ sake, Han!”

The despair of Hanya’s fingers coming out of his backside and having to wait that short time for Hanya to get the condom on then one of Hanya’s strong arms went about his lean hard scarred chest, Hanya was setting that hard thick rod to Dar’s arse and with a wrenching groan at last he was pressing his big cock in through the tender sensitive rim of the hole.

Sweet Heaven! he had hit Dar’s sweet spot with that very first thrust and Dar was gone, gone in Hanya’s arms, pressed to the wall over and over with the long soft slow fucking thrusts of Hanya’s big muscular thighs pushing and pushing the big cock up into his hole. Dar was moaning like a virgin, helpless in the waves of pleasure that rippled out from Hanya’s every gentle thrust, Hanya was moaning softly, pushing harder and faster.

Dar was completely out of control, he came in a spurting helpless gasping molten ecstasy in Hanya Lein’s arms, chucking his head backwards over Hanya’s big shoulder to press in an exquisite outflung elation hard back, his grey eyes open wide and staring. Hanya gave a great groan that vibrated against his narrow scarred back, thrusting that big thick cock deep up into Dar and pushing him into the wall as he shot off in his own orgasm.

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