“So what goes on in the men’s long house?” asked Brocknor with a sly smile.
Jahl laughed. “You would really like to know, wouldn’t you?”
“I would. Yes.”
“There is some experimentation. The older men train the younger men in matters of sex, so when they get married they have a better idea of what to do.”
“What do you mean ‘train’?”
Jahl knew very well Brocknor understood what he meant. He explained, regardless. “The younger men take the role of the woman and the older men show them how to kiss, how to pleasure a woman’s nipples, and how to fuck.”
“But there’s more to pleasing a woman than fucking her, and without the same…equipment, I don’t see how you can fully train a man to pleasure a woman.”
Jahl agreed. “I think the point is to give the men confidence. To give them some idea of what to do.” He shrugged. “It seems to work.”
“And you? Were you trained? Amar told us you were a virgin. Made it a point of sale.”
“He was wrong. Of course I wasn’t a virgin. I have seen twenty-eight summers and lived in the long house for ten of those summers. Of course I’ve been fucked. Many times. Men like Amar would say anything to make money.”
Jahl noticed Brocknor’s cock jutting out, lifting his tunic a little so every second step, he got a peek at the man’s low-hanging balls. The flash of his master’s hairy testicles soon had him in a similar state of arousal.
Without looking at him, Brocknor gave Jahl’s cock a squeeze. “We’ll take care of this later.”
* * * *
It seemed as though they’d been walking forever, and it had been on the tip of Jahl’s tongue for quite a while to ask how close they were to the property, when Brocknor announced they had arrived.
“See that house over there.” He pointed to a roof barely visible over the young, green stalks of wheat pushing up from the ground. “That’s one of the houses. We’ll call in there first. I want to check that everything’s all right, and then we’ll find a nice place to have our lunch.”
At the farmhouse, a woman named Shiara welcomed Brocknor and Jahl into the kitchen. The furniture was simple and sparse, much of it battered and worn, but the room felt warm and cosy like a home should feel; more so than the villa did.
“I’ll fetch you some water. You must be parched.” She turned to a girl of about fifteen, sitting by the stove. “Go and find your father. Tell him to come quickly.” She smiled at Brocknor and poured some water into a pair of wooden mugs.
Five minutes later, the girl returned with a large, deeply tanned, and weathered man in her wake.
“Ah, Gregnor. How are you?” asked Brocknor, shaking the man’s hand.
After the various greetings and introductions, Brocknor sat with Gregnor and began to discuss business. The conversation didn’t interest Jahl, and a lot of it he didn’t understand. All he caught were snippets. The ewes were in season. The crop looked healthy. Mostly meaningless to him. Then, finally, when they’d finished, Gregnor invited them to stay for lunch.
“No,” said Brocknor, pointing to the basket by Jahl’s feet. “We’ve brought our lunch. Thank you anyway.”
They shook hands again before Gregnor showed them out.
“That didn’t take long,” said Jahl. “When you started talking, I thought we’d be there half the day.”
Brocknor laughed. “Gregnor’s an honest man and a hard worker. We know each other well by now. He understands what I need to know, what I want to hear, and he tells me. There’s no wasting time when we get together.”
It was just like Brocknor to have things running efficiently.
They strolled along a small path that divided a vast field of young, unripened wheat from a lush green paddock dotted with woolly, white sheep, grazing oblivious to the two men.
They clambered over a low rock wall into the paddock and Brocknor led Jahl to a grove of trees by a small brook.
“Aha. This is exactly the place I had in mind for our picnic.”
They sat in the cool grass, which, being shaded from the sun by the leafy branches overhead, felt slightly damp.
“Let’s be rid of these,” said Brocknor, undoing the belt around his tunic and pulling the garment over his head.
Jahl removed his tunic, throwing it over his shoulder as Brocknor had done.
“Now come here.”
Jahl crawled on all fours to Brocknor, who turned him around to place his mouth on Jahl’s anus. He kissed it and licked it, and in between, told Jahl how beautiful his little brown flower was. And when he had coated it in saliva, he pulled Jahl onto his erect cock, slowly guiding him while cradling him in his arms.
Jahl lowered himself to the base of Brocknor’s cock and began to ride it, supported by the man’s muscular arms. Using his powerful leg muscles, he bounced up and down on the thick erection, enjoying the sensation of the man he had fallen in love with being so deeply inside him.
Brocknor drew back his arm, allowing Jahl to recline a little further, so that by stretching his neck and turning his head, Jahl’s lips found Brocknor’s. And after he became comfortable in the position, Jahl began to stroke his own cock, knowing that with Brocknor inside him and the man’s lips on his, it wouldn’t take more than a few strokes before he climaxed.
He wasn’t mistaken. His abdominal muscles tightened, his balls drawing up. He let his head fall back, away from Brocknor’s lips.
“Are you close?” asked Brocknor, his voice barely louder than a breathless whisper.
The sound of his master’s voice, so deep and masculine, so full of authority, even now, was all he needed to send him over the edge. His seed streaked out, arcing through the air and landing on the green grass. As his body spasmed, releasing the last few drops, he closed his eyes to listen to the quiet grunts and heavy breaths, sounds of pleasure and ecstasy, as Brocknor ejaculated deep inside him.
They remained in place while they caught their breath and recovered from their lovemaking, until a rumble from Jahl’s stomach told them it was time to eat. Jahl’s legs had locked up and he stumbled as he got up.
“Are you all right?” Brocknor asked, thrusting out his arms to catch Jahl in case he fell.
Jahl steadied himself, stretching from side to side to get the blood pumping in his legs. “I am now.”
They ate lunch at a leisurely pace, stealing kisses and passing mouthfuls of wine to each other. They were happy to be in each other’s company, touching each other just for the sake of it, and feeding each other morsels of food. When they’d finished their meal and disposed of all the scraps into a hole in the ground, Brocknor sat against the trunk of a tree.
“Jahl, I’ve been thinking,”
“What about?” he asked lazily.
Brocknor beckoned him closer. “Rest your head on my chest.”
Jahl did as he’d been asked. “I can hear your heartbeat.”
Brocknor ignored the comment. “I have something I want to tell you. And it’s rather difficult for me to get the words out. Or to know where to start.”
Jahl went to lift his head, but Brocknor pressed it back against his chest.
“I’ve enjoyed having you with me, by my side and in my bed. You know that. You also know I’ve grown to love you. Deeply. To be honest, I can imagine spending the rest of my life with you. But something you told me not long after we met has been gnawing at my conscience. It’s part of the reason I wanted Mari here, too, although I know how close you both are, and that you’ll tell her whatever we discuss.”
Like before, Jahl made to raise his head so he could better respond, but again, Brocknor held it in place.
“Please let me finish. You’ll have time enough to say your piece later. If I don’t get it all out now, I don’t know when I’ll feel brave enough to do it again. The thing is, my parents died when I was about your age. I miss them to this day. I sometimes even find myself talking to them when I know nobody else is around to hear. And I got to thinking,
what right did I have to keep you and Mari from your parents?”
Jahl’s eyes grew wide. His heart pounded. He hardly dared to think what Brocknor’s next words might be.
“Therefore, I’d like to grant both of you permission to visit your families. I know it’s unorthodox, but I have special certificates, signed and ready at home, which you may need when travelling. However, there’s one condition and it’s not negotiable. You have to return to me after a month. Naturally, I’ll have to trust you, and if you don’t come back, you don’t come back. But please, Jahl, know this. If you don’t come back, you’ll break my heart. I love you dearly. It’s the only reason I’m doing this. I’d like to think you’ve grown fond enough of me to want to return.” He sighed, as though the effort to make this kind offer was almost more than he could cope with. “Maybe I’m a fool. Maybe I’ve been blinded by my affection for you. But when you do come back, I have something else I’d like to tell you.”
This time, Jahl sat back, refusing to be kept from looking into Brocknor’s eyes. “Tell me now, please, master. Tell me everything now.”
Brocknor returned his gaze, staring deep into his eyes. He appeared anguished, as if deciding whether or not to reveal the final part of his decision. “I don’t know if I should, Jahl. If I tell you now, you won’t be curious enough to come back and find out what I have planned.”
Jahl smiled and rested a hand on Brocknor’s shin. “If I don’t come back, it’ll mean I don’t care what you have planned. Please tell me now.” Jahl could think of no other way to ask. “Please?”
Brocknor screwed up his nose and made a strange noise, obviously struggling with the decision. Finally, he let out a great sigh. “All right,” he said with a hint of annoyance. “I can’t keep secrets from you.” He kissed Jahl’s lips. “I’ve decided that when you come back, you’d return not as my slave, but as my partner. As my lover. Equals in love and in life.”
Jahl beamed. His heart swelled with love for the man who, only a few months earlier, he had disliked; a man whose home and arms he had yearned to escape.
“And Mari?”
“She does such a good job that I’d keep her on as my housekeeper.”
The thought horrified Jahl, and it must have showed.
“But I’d pay her.” Brocknor cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “And I’d pay her well.”
Jahl nodded approvingly.
“So…” Brocknor looked at him hopefully. “What do you say? What are you thinking?”
Jahl wasn’t sure he knew what to say. “It’s a surprise. I am very, very happy I’ll be able to see my family again, and my friends and my village. How could I not be overjoyed at that?”
“And will you come back to me?”
“Would I be allowed to return to my family regularly? To see them whenever I wanted to? Would they be allowed to visit me at the villa?”
Jahl knew they would never visit him there. The Hamica knew, as all the jungle tribes knew, that the land of men was to be avoided at all costs. However, it wouldn’t hurt to hear Brocknor’s answers, to see the depth of his love.
Brocknor rested a hand on the back of Jahl’s hand and smiled. “My darling, if you returned to me, you’d be a free man. You’d be able to come and go as you pleased because, if you returned just this one time, I’d know in my heart that you care about me as much as I care about you.”
Jahl took a moment to consider his reply. “And it would be the same for Mari?”
Brocknor nodded.
Jahl stared at the grass, momentarily lost in thought.
“Do you really need so long to answer me?” asked Brocknor.
Jahl shook his head. “No, I don’t. If you will allow me to go back to my village, to see my family at any time, I will return.”
A look of supreme happiness blossomed on Brocknor’s face. “Do you really mean it?”
Jahl started laughing. “I mean everything I say. Of course, I mean it. I love you, too.”
Chapter 9
Mari didn’t have many possessions. A comb, a scarf, and two tunics—Brocknor had given each of them additional clothing since he’d gifted them their first tunics—was about the size of it. But she wouldn’t need any clothing when she returned to her village. Nor would she want to wear any. It wasn’t the way of her people. And she wanted to fit in.
Jahl would also travel lightly. All he planned to take was his travel pass. Not only would it ensure there’d be no trouble, but it would show any slavers he happened upon that he already belonged to someone, and no slaver would dare attempt to re-sell someone else’s property.
On the day of their departure, Brocknor met them at the gate.
“I can hardly believe this is happening,” he said. “Whoever heard of such a thing? Slaves being allowed to roam freely?” He placed a hand each on Mari’s shoulder and on Jahl’s. “But you’re only slaves until you return to me. Then you are free people.”
He hugged Mari to him, then Jahl.
“It’s going to be lonely without you.”
Jahl kissed him goodbye.
“I’ll see you in a month?” said Brocknor, half-asking and half-pleading.
Jahl simply smiled at him and placed a hand in the small of Mari’s back. Brocknor held open the gate for them, and once they were on the road, taking the first few steps of many thousands more, he stepped out to watch them walk away from him. A short way down the road, they turned. He waved to them and they waved back.
“I’m a little afraid,” said Mari, turning to continue walking. “Being out in the world by myself.”
“You don’t have to be afraid,” said Jahl. “I promised I would take you to your village before returning to my own.”
“Are you sure? You only have a month. I don’t want you wasting time on me that you could be spending with your family. It’s a long way to the sea.”
“I promised I would and so I will.”
They approached the town centre with trepidation, but managed to pass to the other side without incident. Neither looked at the wooden building in the middle of the square.
“Are you going back?” asked Mari.
Jahl nodded. “I am. The thing is, I really do love him. And when I think of the women of the Hamica, when I think of how some of them marry and leave the village forever, I think of myself as being in a similar situation. Except I’ll be able to return whenever I want.”
“Do you trust him?”
Jahl looked her in the eye. “I do. He is a good man. I didn’t think so in the beginning, but hasn’t he shown us how he has changed? How he has come to realise he can’t buy and sell people like the sheep on his property?”
Mari nodded. “I suppose so.”
They walked a few more steps in silence.
“Are you going back?” he asked.
Mari sighed. “I honestly don’t know. I think the best thing I can do is wait and see what happens when I go home. I’ve been gone for such a long time, my family mightn’t even recognise me, and my friends will all be strangers.” She kicked at a stone on the track. “I’d like to fall in love. I’d like to love someone as you love the master. And to be loved back. Perhaps I might find that someone when I go home.”
“You could bring him with you. The master might have some work for him. I would help him to agree that he did.”
Mari smiled and ran her hand down the length of his arm. “You’re a good friend to me, Jahl. I never knew how lonely I was until you arrived. The master has always been good to me, make no mistake, and I’m forever grateful to have been freed from my first master, but you and I have a connection. We have bonded due to our common background and our situation.”
“That’s true. You express it well.”
“Hmmm. Perhaps, then, I will return. If I know you’re going to be there, and I will be free to come and go, then I can’t see why I wouldn’t.”
Jahl threw his arms around Mari. “I’m so glad to hear that. I really am. I love the master so much, and perhaps that would
be enough. But knowing you will be there with me, I can’t think how I could be happier.”
“Except he won’t be your master any longer.”
Jahl laughed. “Perhaps just in the bedroom.”
Mari threw back her head and laughed long and loud.
THE END
ABOUT WAYNE MANSFIELD
Wayne Mansfield is a Western Australian writer. He has been writing for nine years and has been published in Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States. Additionally, he wrote a monthly erotic story for the German publications Macho and Dreamboys for two years. His novellas and stories usually have a horror, futuristic, or fantasy theme, although he does write contemporary stories such as The Hiding Place, which received Honorable Mention in the 2013 Rainbow Awards.
For more information, visit mansfield82.wix.com/wayne-mansfield-.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
Goodbye to the Jungle Page 6