Chapter 8

As if making up for the night before and my plans to be with Tash that night, my wives surrounded me when we listened to Nick's Tales and I entered the world of ancient Europe.

"After a day recovering from the mating ceremony and the drunken orgies that followed," Nick began, "and the illness had completely subsided from the newly mated poet/shepherd and the Chief's granddaughter, we began our journey. None too soon, because the rather brutal invasion of the Carthaginians followed in our wake. I had minions sprinkled among the villages we visited, and I created more for the future, so I saw through them the overpowering onslaught. And through my friend, the chief, I saw his success at minimizing the damages of the invaders, albeit unpleasant as it meant sacrificing one wife and other women to their rapacious lust, although he managed to choose the lustiest and cleverest of the women who could make the worst situation work for them. His wisdom and remarkable diplomacy allowed him to keep his head where other chiefs had lost theirs, and kept the villages allied with him mostly intact. In fact he became the de facto leader of all those villages, managing to rein in the most rebellious by the simple explanation that, though he empathized, any rebellion would cause cataclysmic reactions from the anything but benevolent conquerors, killing not just the rebels, but many others, including the rape and murder of their women. By such efforts, he proved his worth to conquerors and villagers. Nowhere else had capitulation come so easily, saving lives of both conquerors and conquered. Though some, including several warriors and the most proud of the women, might see this as cowardice. But in the end, the wisdom of it won out, especially when the empire grew wider and thus sparser in its overseeing of its subjects. More so in villages where threat had been minimal. And the Chief ruled his villages as if they had not been taken. Only the tributes of an admittedly large amount of foodstuff remained as proof of being conquered. Yet even there, the Chief managed to hide the true amount, retaining more than enough to keep his villages thriving.

"As for us, the further we travelled north, the more we encountered the peculiar world of the Celts. Villages became small kingdoms. Gods became similar. Cultures and moral philosophies as well. Though each kingdom had its differences, especially in their less important gods, they all shared three things: class structure, sexual mores and slavery.

"Of the first, there were only really three classes: Royalty, Druids and the rest. The Druids would be the priest class, and in a way were as important as royalty.

"Sexually they were as free as any society I ever encountered. Homosexuality was not only embraced but expected. And the women, though rarely rulers, had a much more equal footing. Many became warriors. And they slept around as much as the men did, with both sexes."

Both Lindy and I chuckled. "Sounds like your ideal society," Lindy said.

Nick chuckled as well. "I may have had my influences from my time there centuries before. Not just in the sexual freedom, but in the importance of the Druids. I made quite a mark, and gained significant respect and almost equal footing with the kings as a priest and advisor. Not to mention my preference for strong, spunky women. Though Celtic society ended up solely in the Northern British Isles, in Wales and Ireland especially, many don't realize it started in Central Europe, with my little home kingdom central to its origination."

"And the slavery?" I asked.

"Ah well, that I hope happened without my influence. I think it came from the acquisitive nature of these kingdoms. A victory over another kingdom made slaves of the vanquished. Especially the women, who became significant bartering material."

"But you might have had an influence?" asked Lindy.

"Maybe only in the history of the women I brought with me, though I of course set them free. No, I'm inclined to think of slavery as spoils of war."

"And Simon?" asked Naomi.

"I wouldn't put it past him. He had strong minions just as I did. The Celts got blonder after all the more we headed north."

"So your looks became less exotic," Lindy said.

"Just as Salomé's became more," Nick nodded.

"Speaking of Salomé," I said. She'd been noticeable in her absence.

"She's busy in Wisconsin," Nick replied. "We needed Betty here. I sent Rosa to help her once she had a nice nostalgic day here."

I'd noticed Rosa's absence this morning and nodded. I heard Lindy laugh. "That's perfect, Snake, having your least white angels spy on Simon."

Nick laughed. "I actually hadn't even realized that. But it's kind of perfect."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Salomé thinks she might be able to convince Berenice to switch sides."

"I know he's obsessed by the whole Aryan crap," I said, "but is that even possible? I mean Gia had Xo dividing her influence. With her olive skin and dark hair, Bernie must have some Moor in her, but is that you?"

"Yes," Snake smiled. "But not as much as Helen had Simon or Gia had Xo or even Simon in Naomi. Maybe an eighth?"

"And without Xo here..." I pointed out.

"Joe," Nick roared, "You think I'm an old dog?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, startled.

"You know," he suddenly grinned. "New tricks?"

I laughed. "No I don't. You may be fucking ancient, but you're no dog. A devil's serpent maybe..."

"Cerberus?" he suggested.

"No way. Too passive. You're definitely not the guard dog type. You'd be hiring a three-headed dog rather than be one."

"True," he chuckled. More seriously he added, "But I do intend to protect my people."

After I nodded, he sighed. "Anyway, after some rather fun and productive encounters with a couple Celtic kingdoms before we even entered the future France, our first encounter there proved to be quite illustrative of the Celt's sexual morés."

Putting the Pyrenees behind them, a treacherous path no matter what passage one chooses, and with the addition of four slave girls (now freed) and an apprentice priest who haven't had a couple months of long travel the rest of the entourage had, and even the weak constitution of the poet/shepherd always a bit of a burden, but a welcome one, the group wishes to celebrate. A lovely stream and a clearing to camp beside it becomes the place for it. Soon, camp built, everyone enjoys bathing naked in the stream.

Nick swims over to the poet. "Come with me," he says.

Puzzled, but obeying, wondering what the man he has grown to love almost as much as his mate, and who has, several times, joined them in their mating, allowing his bisexual tendency to be fully enjoyed, the poet wonders if Nick desires some alone time with him, something he never expects.

Toweling dry, Nick tosses the poet the towel. "Get dressed," he commands, doing so himself.

Once dressed, the two men follow the stream. A couple miles later, Nick stops the poet, pressing a finger to his lips to signal quiet. He points and the poet sees what Nick sees. A few yards ahead, beside the stream, a man fucks another man doggy style. Nick strips, so the poet does as well. Nick slicks up his cock and his fingers plunge his powerful essence into the poet's butthole.

Ready, they make quick time to the fuckers. Both have the physiques of powerful warriors. Both have hair closer to blond than brunette and blue eyes. The one doing the fucking notices Nick. "I couldn't wait," he says before Nick tosses him aside and takes his place fucking the other man.

"Kneel," Nick commands his poet friend. The poet obeys, and then leans forward as the warrior plunges his cock into him.

Everyone cums. They bathe afterwards. Nothing is said. Nothing loving happens. No kisses.

Finally the warrior who fucked the poet tells him, "You're beautiful."

"None of that," Nick grumbles. "We've proven our worth. Now lead us to your master."

"As you wish," the top man bows obsequiously.

They separate so that Nick and the poet can retrieve their clothes and put them on. The clothed warriors with Nick's bottom the surprising leader guides them through a forest and to a grassy hill where a small group of men and women appear to have ended their picnic with some fucking. At the center sits a man of middle age, balding, his dark beard threaded with silver, his long face proud. His long thin body beginning to thicken at the middle. A woman with a long main of golden hair sucks his cock.

"Was he good?" the man asks the bottom.

"Exceptional, Master Druid," the warrior bows.

"They started without me," Nick grumbles.

"Figures," a beautiful blonde woman moans, riding the cock of another blond man, this one no older than the poet. "My husband can barely get it up for me, but can't resist a hard cock."

The scene amazes the poet. Not just the sex, which has been a frequent part of his life, including multiple partners going at it, but most of the people on the hill have blond hair like Nick. He's seen an occasional blond in the other kingdoms, mostly slaves, two of whom have joined them, but never so many at once and all freemen. And adding to the moment, the hill looks over a large village with an especially large wall at the center which, he can see, has an especially large building within it if the vast roof is any indication.

"Oh fuck," her sex partner groans, arching and obviously cumming.

"Fucking men," the woman grumbles.

Nick laughs. "Perhaps I can show my prowess another way."

"I know who you are," says the Druid. Nick can hear the missing, "Master," which he knows cannot be said. Fine by him.

"You deny her what she's always been missing?" Nick asks. "You and her husband wish to hear her bitch?"

"Fine. Take her too," the Druid says, pulling the blonde off his cock.

"Master?" the woman murmurs, worried.

"I'm not in the mood," the Druid tells her with surprising tenderness. "Go with them. You will not be disappointed."

She nods and stands and looks around. The other woman already leans against Nick, fondling his crotch. "I do not believe you need to be clothed, sister," she says.

"Oh. Okay," the woman responds shyly.

"Milo."

"Yes Nick," the young poet responds

"Recite some poetry."

"But I neither understand them, nor will they understand me."

"They will hear the beauty of your words." Nick and Salomé have been teaching his entourage the language of the Celts. One of the slave women also knows both languages, in fact the one whom he plans to offer to the Druid. It would have been nice for Milo if she had come along, but the odd Celtic acceptance of a man as a good lover of men prevents it. Of all his students, perhaps because of his deep understanding of the musicality and meaning of his native tongue, Milo has been by far the poorest.

Nick tells the Druid, "My friend wishes to entertain you while I entertain these ladies." They exchange nods.

Nick leads the two blonde beauties, nearly identical, but the shy one looks younger, their bodies voluptuous with sturdy boobs and asses and soft bellies that he can tell hide strong cores, off the hill and into the woods. The bolder one takes over and brings them to a lush green place with the damp gurgling of a spring at the middle.

"My stupid husband seduced me here," she explains.

"Perfect," Nick approves.

"As are you," she purrs, taking off his clothes.

"Are you ready for me?" he asks as his mighty cock bounces free.

"I'm always ready," she moans.

"On all fours then. Come here you, and bring that pussy for your sister to suck."

"What?" they both exclaim.

"Do it," Nick's voice reverberates in the gully. He still has to pull the older sister down, impaling her as soon as she gets in position. The size opens her like no other cock. She thinks it's too much, but only intense pleasure results. So intense that when he insists she suck her sister's pussy, and it has always been the other way, her tongue laps out and she tastes her sister and smells her when a moment before she didn't even know her sister has placed herself there.

It becomes an overwhelming moment of sexual sensations she has always wanted but never got close. While the biggest cock she ever felt fucks her harder than she has ever known, she finds herself without thought, since her brain has become nothing but a receptor of pleasure, and without that conscious effort she licks and sucks her sister's pussy the way she has always hoped to be licked and sucked but never received, and in the midst of the most intense climax of her life, she tastes the sweet nectar of her sister filling her mouth. And when jets of hot cum fill her womb it's as if the heat spreads throughout her body with every ejaculation. Overcome, her body seizes up, trembles and becomes inert.

Moments later, she hears, "Suck my cock. Let me show you how to give your master pleasure."

She finds herself in the fetal position watching her sister take in the not quite flaccid cock that has brought her such pleasure. "Teach me too," she murmurs.

Nick teaches. The sisters learn. Tongues touch around his ever growing cock, and they enjoy that too.

But when he warns them of his imminent climax, older sister retreats. "You don't swallow my cum, you get no more of my cock," he scolds her.

She tries to encroach on her sister's mouth completely filled with cock, but too late. "Keep swallowing," he tells her sister.

"Go ahead," her sister murmurs, handing her the throbbing cock. She can't believe how sweet it tastes. The one time she had tasted her husband's cum, it had been too bitter.

"Good girls," Nick grins. "Keep going. Unlike most men, I like it being too sensitive. But bring those pussies here."

"But ... It's full of cum," the older sister reminds him. By then the younger one has already straddled his face. The older one lies along his side, bringing him her pussy as close as possible. He drills it with his thick fingers, keeping her flame going. Not long after, her sister moans around his stiffening cock, already lost in orgasm. Immediately she feels the most incredible cunnilingus possible.

"Ride me baby," he tells her sister. Amazingly, her sister takes the superior position on a man, guiding him in and bouncing aggressively. Meanwhile the man pulls her onto his mouth, bringing her mouth to their conjunction. She can see the foam on his cock from her sister's seemingly endless orgasm, tasting the exquisite flavor and teasing the clit that bounces past. She can't believe her sister can manage to keep riding him, but lifting her head, she notices his hands clutching her sister's ass, doing all the work.

Soon she doesn't notice, his skillful mouth sending her again into exquisite ecstasy. She manages to hear her sister breathlessly claiming to not be able to take it anymore.

"You want to feel my cum?" he asks.

"Please," her sister murmurs. And from a murmur to a screech, her sister exclaims, "Gods! Yes!" And she can see the trembling of her sister's pussy and the throbs of his magnificent cock and the stream of liquid somehow slipping through the tight hold of her sister's pussy lips around it. Tasting it, she has never tasted anything sweeter.

Again things somehow skip ahead, and she finds herself embracing her sister, the beautiful, sweet face hovering over hers, lips moving down to meet hers. After the intense, loving kiss, she asks her sister, "How did we get like this?"

Her sister shrugs and giggles. "I don't know and I don't care. Oh fuck."

"What?"

"He's fucking me."

"Kiss me."

During the kiss, she feels his cock again, fucking her, thrilling her. Just as she nears another climax, it retreats and her sister moans. Somehow any frustration gets forgotten with the shared experience. Even better, she feels her sister grind on her clit, the movement of his thrusts adding extra friction. Twice more he fucks her and pulls out. Her sister lifts her head suddenly. "Gods, Nick," she exclaims. "Give her some, too," and she feels her pussy once more filled, but with that intense heat of his ejaculations deep inside her. It's not quite enough to make her cum, but he keeps fucking her. And her sister lowers her mouth to her nipples and chews on them. And she doesn't know whose fingers rub her clit. And he's fucking her as hard as he had that first time. And she can't believe he's still hard. And she rises to an even more magnificent orgasm. And more hot jets send her into oblivion.

The Druid laughs seeing the returning threesome, the bitch sister leaning fondly against the large blond man and the younger sister grinning and running at him as soon as she catches his eye. "Nick taught me so much," she exclaims, dropping onto her knees and shifting his loincloth out of the way of his lax penis.

"Gods," the Druid moans as soon as her mouth captures his flesh.

"She loves his cock," the older sister explains. "It's like a great big nipple to her. He won't fuck her or any other. Once he became master, it became a part of his calling not to have intercourse. Even ejaculation weakens his power. But he likes resisting it, and thus the blowjobs. There had been a sort of contest to see who sucked him best. He doesn't like men unlike most of the men here, so only women competed."

"Including you?" Nick asks her.

"I won," she grins. "You couldn't tell?"

"Well, I..."

She giggles. "How could you? You instructed right off the bat. And I have to admit, I feel much improved, even if I'm the best cocksucker in the kingdom."

"Better than a man?"

She shrugs. "Different I think. Less hard. More expressive. But of course most men just want it hard and could care less about any expressiveness."

"Men can be foolish that way."

"True. Anyway, though my sister might have come in last in the contest, she absolutely loved sucking him, and begged him to let her keep doing it. And I think he's completely enamored by her."

"I think so too. I should probably get back to my people. We need to be entering your kingdom before sunset."

"Can I come with you?"

"Won't your husband object? As much as the Druid gives permission, your husband accepting us would keep his soldiers from bothering us."

"My husband rarely sleeps with me. He liked my abuse at first, but prefers his Lieutenant's much more. And I believe you fucked him better than he's ever been fucked, so, no, he won't get in your way. How did you know?"

"How did I know what?"

"That he commands the soldiers? He keeps his submissiveness to his bedchambers, but it's all you've seen of him."

"A man of power often needs times of submission, especially if he's ambivalent about it."

"He's always been a bit of a coward, though his cleverness and quickness kept him from being stabbed in the back when he wanted to run away from battle. His cleverness enabled him to escape battle in the end, planning instead of participating, leading from the rear. That his previous leader preferred showing leadership by leading his men into battle only got him killed, letting my husband take over at a young age, and letting his cowardice hide behind his predecessor's example. If they wanted his skills as strategist, it would be best if he survives."

"But you're not impressed by even his cleverness," Nick guesses.

"It doesn't matter. He married me because of my abuse, so it's essential to our relationship to find him weak. What matters is his lieutenant does admire his cleverness, and that confidence helps his leading his men into battle. It's the lieutenant who actually does the leading. His bravery inspiring theirs."

The two laugh when the Druid moans, "Gods!" and her little sister backs off. "Please," he begs.

"Please what, Master?" the blonde sister asks innocently.

"Let me cum."

"Are you sure?"

"Please."

Giggling, she finishes him off. He looks amazed when she swallows all his spend. "Go to your husband with this gift," he commands her almost cruelly.

"Yes Master," she chirps. He rolls his eyes at her spunkiness, and then those eyes watch her rump retreat. She catches his stare and giggles before going to her husband. The man looks amazed when she pulls on his arm to get him to stand, and keeps pulling on it, saying, "I'm not sucking a dirty cock."

"What's got into you?" he asks his usually shy wife.

She giggles. "You hopefully. Soon," and leads him off the hill heading towards the stream. His head shakes and he smiles.

"I will fetch my people," Nick tells the Druid. "And I believe this lovely lady wishes to accompany me."

The Druid and the General both nod and smile. Nick suppresses the chuckle at the relief he can see in those smiles.

Not surprisingly, when Nick reaches the clearing, his entourage awaits him, ready to move on.

While he introduces them to his new companion, Milo, the poet, and Cynthia, his mate, embrace. "How was it?" she asks him.

"I enjoyed it," he admits.

"Without me?"

"Yes."

"Better?"

"Different. Pure sensations. No emotions."

"Intense?"

"Yes."

"You wish it to happen again?"

"Yes," he replies, bowing his head.

She lifts it. "You will be honest with me?"

"Always. But how can I make it fair?"

"Like me enjoying strange cock? Maybe it's a female thing, or maybe it's just me, but I'm really not interested. I'm only interested in two cocks inside me, Nick's and yours. Strange pussy is another thing."

"Oh?"

"I've been catching Gala's eye."

"The blonde translator?"

She notices him hardening and his eyes flashing. "Now I'm getting jealous."

"There's just something about these blonde women that fascinates me."

"Me too. Like Nick's new companion."

"She's interesting, but..."

"Gala's sexy."

"I think ... I think if she were to be ... with us ... it could be ... useful. I mean, translating my poetry."

Cynthia laughs. "As good an excuse as any."

"It's true, but I won't mind if things get more intimate."

"Thing is, she might prefer just being with me. I mean, she's been with Nick, but Nick is Nick. Men have not treated her well."

"I understand. It's fine actually. Like her, I prefer just one of the opposite gender."

"I know, but she seems to have an effect on you."

"Fascination I think."

She giggles, unconvinced. "Let's see how it goes. I do want to play with her. And she can help you learn the language and the translation thing is perfect. And you being gentle ... maybe we'll get to share her."

"If not, it's only fair."

"But Milo,"

"Yes my love?"

"You find yourself someone who doesn't just give you intense sensations, but something irresistible, and you tell me. You don't go run off without telling me."

"I'd never..."

"Promise me."

"I could never..."

"Promise me."

"To break your heart would break mine."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"Good. Let's go play with Gala."

They end up at the middle of the entourage heading towards the kingdom with the subject of their interest, and discovering the interest returned, with the expected physical attraction towards Cynthia as well as excitement about translating Milo's poetry. The blonde ex-slave reveals a wonderful laugh when she hears about Milo's untranslated recitation.

As usual, Nick leads the band, with Effen as usual beside him, along with Effen's wife. Effen's mentor, Paol and his wife, along with Salomé position themselves at the end of the group. Nick's latest conquest actually guides them.

"You obviously impressed me," she says to Nick. "But your followers are just as impressive."

"How so?" Nick asks.

"Aside from being brilliant, they're all lovely, including the men."

"You can tell? I mean the brilliant part?"

"I can. Not a dull one in the group."

As if to prove it, Effen asks her, "So what is your king like. I mean if you had one word..."

"Avaricious," she replied.

"You say that in a good way."

"Of course. Keeping my husband busy, proving his mettle, although things have been quiet. But expansion means protection. You know when his and my ancestors came here and took things over, we've expanded to both seas and quite a ways north. Of course the mountains prevent southern expansion, though we do trade with them. It's said that when my people came here from the east, the old ruler couldn't have been weaker. Selfish and cowardly, only his Druids held things in place. When my ancestors took things over, they knew to keep the Druids. Through them, they gained acceptance from the rest of the people, even with their difference."

"Being blond you mean?"

"Exactly. It became a powerful thing. Our color defined our royalty. Some intermixing happened, especially amongst the soldiers and us, but even amongst them, we tended to choose the fairest, and even lifted the few blond slaves into freedom to become leaders of soldiers if they showed their worthiness. If not, we traded them."

"So the king is blond like you?"

"Of course."

"But not of your bloodline."

"Not this one, at least not for a couple generations or so."

"But your bloodline has been kings?"

"Yes. We go by merit rather than blood."

"Except for the blond part."

"Of course."

"And the Druids?"

"They have their own bloodlines."

"Darker?"

"Always. They are closest to the gods."

"Meaning they're closer to the land and the water, the fecundity of the earth, and the plenty of the hunt."

"Yes, and higher gods as well. They bless our soldiers to gain victories. They bless our souls to grow wise."

"You mean minds?"

"Minds. Souls. Same thing."

"Decapitation."

"Exactly. Worthy adversaries are honored by displaying their decapitated heads."

"And your soldiers?"

"A soldier's death shows unworthiness. The death of royalty or a Druid, unless an ignoble death, gets a death mask and a finally wrought bust to display in the castle. It lasts longer than a decapitated head," she shrugs.

"So your ancestors and your current ruler have acquired quite a lot of territory. I understand it keeps any enemy from this, your main castle, by distance alone. But the wider the territory, the more spread out its protection."

"It's true the farther princedoms have the greatest vulnerability. But just as things began, each is modeled after this place. The brothers or sons of the king, or those shown capable of leading, become princes in charge of these places. And the king makes certain the Druids respect these princes as well as being effective priests and advisors."

"So the blond king trusts these dark haired Druids."

"Of course. They have the gods' ears. They know the proper sacrifices. They know when things are favorable for expansion as well as the more mundane matters of farming and hunting and such."

Nick cuts in. "You believe being blonde makes you a natural leader."

"Not all of us of course, but basically yes. Only when my ancestors came here did this place get properly ruled. And I've heard tell the land from which they originated have similar leadership. You're a perfect example. Except for the two slave women, you are the only blond, and you definitely rule your little group."

Everyone who hears her laughs.

"What?" she asks, baffled.

"Never mind," says Nick. "And you do know those women are no longer slaves?"

"Whatever," she replies, obviously unconvinced. She doesn't see the curious glances Nick receives from his friends and his responding shrug.

"Let me guess," I interrupted, "Simon's minions." Gorgeous flesh of my angel wives surrounded me, all of us feeling the calm of post-orgasm.

"Exiled from one of my minion's kingdoms," Nick confirmed.

"An overrun castle?" Lindy asked.

"A difficult one at that, but my minions tried for assimilation of the royals. It sometimes worked, but Simon had a great influence on this particular group. If they had enslaved them, the occupation of Southwestern France might never have happened."

"So slavery was pervasive amongst the Celts," Lindy asked.

"Amongst all of Europe and much of the world. A defeated people became slaves. Better than mass extermination. Slaves did the hard work alongside the peasants really. They were useful and kept alive. The worst of it was trading and entertainment, women mostly as whores, but gladiatorial type combats or bearbaiting had to be the cruelest."

"It sounds as if emancipating them was rare," I asked.

"Extremely, and over generations, slaves begat slaves. The two blondes I got in trade had been descendants from slaves of the original group who took over the castle. They did shit work literally for the Druids, but also did child rearing, even early education because the apprentice Druids had no interest in such things. The Druids being essentially the intellectual class of the Celts, it rubbed off on them."