The Sacrifice part 2


Originally posted on Kindle. This is a continuation of my original story. Adult erotica, NSFW, Man on Man. Don't read if you don't like.

The old man circled the young warrior, his staff thumping and his form limping as the old enchanter assessed his newest acquisition. Sensing he was being judged the young man stood tall, thrust out his chest and took a deep breath.

“So foolish. Ready to offer your life when you have barely lived. Just know this, Baen of the clan Buchanan, if you balk, question or disobey me in any way your whole clan will die. Then, and only then, will I let you slip into the inky blackness of death." 

The old man paused to let his words sink in.

Seeing no change in the young warrior the priest continued,”You do what I say, when I say and without hesitation. You are no longer a warrior of the Clan Buchanan, brother to the Laird. You are the sacrifice. Do you understand?,” the old warlock asked.

The young man said, “I understand,” as he hid his shock of the old goat knowing his first name.

“Follow me then,” and the old man turned. 

He walked around the ancient tree and descended into a dark hole hidden by the tree’s roots.

The man took a deep breath and followed the druid into the bowels of the earth beneath the tree. His eyes soon adjusted to the darkness and he was thankful to be out of the cold. They descended the stone and root covered steps for what seemed like forever to the young warrior. 

Baen began to see a faint glow and soon the steps opened to a cavern lit by tallow candles and a small fire with a cauldron of water bubbling over it. Herbs and roots hung from the ceiling drying. There was a rectangular stone table that sat in the middle of the cave. It dominated the space. Roots wound and twisted up the legs of the carved stone table.

As soon as the warrior stepped into the cavern he felt a strange, warm tingle that started at his feet, crawled up his legs, and centered in his chest. It caused his skin to prickle and his breath to catch. The young man felt small while the old man seemed to grow in height as he shuffled around the cave gathering items.

The old man pointed to a spot in front of the fire next to the stone table.

"Stand here," the old enchanter ordered. He then began muttering to himself as he gathered herbs into a pestle and began grinding them together.

Baen did as he was told standing before the fire. He watched as it crackled in the hearth. He became mesmerized by the dancing flames and relaxed by the long forgotten warmth. He closed his eyes and let the warmth penetrate his bones.

"Hnh, getting comfortable, young man?" the magus asked in a sultry tone.

The warrior opened his eyes and gaped at the once bent, old man.

Gone was the crown of horns, the worn grey cloak and the bent form. Before him stood a tall, robust, mature man. Some might even call him handsome in a wild windswept way. Baen’s eyes were drawn to the wizard’s strong forearms as he pushed up the sleeves of his linen tunic. Then he noticed the conjurer's wide chest and strong shoulders barely contained in the shirt. Then his trim waist and strong thighs encased in leather pants. His hair was still long but it was tied back and braided. His beard was shortened and neatly trimmed. A few streaks of grey but the mahogany brown color reminded Baen of a buck he had hunted the summer before when the forests and fields were green with life. 

Seeing the young warrior assessing his form, the wizard said,”Hn, part of what you will learn young man. Best to keep your appearance a mystery. But names….names can be known. I am Cern. You, Baen of the clan Buchanan are welcome here. Now drink this.”

Cern offered a metal wine goblet filled with blood red wine and herbs. He watched Baen with an eagle eye.

Baen hesitated, for but a second, then downed the drink in one gulp.

Surprised at the warrior’s trust the conjurer said,“Now make yourself useful and bring that wooden tub here.”

Baen removed the tub from the wall and placed it before the fire. As he stood up his head began to spin. Baen steadied himself against the cold stone table.

Cern watched as the wine began to take effect on his sacrifice. Sensing it was time, he ordered Baen to strip.

Cern watched as the young man removed his boots, shirt and finally tartan. Baen carefully folded his clan colors and placed it on top of his clothes. He stood naked before the wizard and shivered. 

“Hmm, not bad,” the wizard said, taking in Baen’s sculpted arms and wide chest.

This young warrior certainly was a prize. He had a pleasing face with a strong jaw and short, dark brown beard. His skin was pale from the long winter. There were a few scars from blades and the hard life of the Scottish Highlands marking his skin but they added to the warrior’s physique. His chest was broad and arms strong from the long days of sword practice. There was a dusting of brown hair on his chest, marking his impressive pecs that were topped by dusky pink nipples. Cern’s eyes traveled down Baen’s stomach taking in the ripple of his abs and trim waist. Finally to Baen’s center where his cock and balls sat on a pillow of dark brown curls.

Cern circled his offering. Baen’s back was well-muscled and his ass. It was plump and Cern had to resist marking it with a bite.

“All in good time,” Cern muttered to himself as he approached the fire.

He dipped a pitcher into the bubbling cauldron and added the root the Laird had given him. He put the pitcher aside on the stone table to steep. Next he turned towards the warrior and handed him a jar of spiked oil. 

“Step into the tub and anoint yourself,” Cern said.

Baen simply nodded and stepped into the tub. He tried not to think about what was in store for him as he rubbed the oil over his arms, chest and legs. Once again his skin tingled but this time going straight to his cock. All the while the wizard worked gathering items and placing them on the table. 

The enchanter grunted as he looked at Baen’s glistening form in the firelight,”Ya missed a couple of spots.”

Cern proceeded to slather oil down Baen’s back and over his buttocks. His hands massaging and gripping the muscles of his prize. Oil slid down Baen’s crack, past his furled hole and dripped off his sack. Baen shivered as his whole body seemed to warm and pulse from the infused oil and imbibed wine.

Cern turned to Baen’s front and oiled up his cock and balls. Baen only slightly flinched not used to other men handling his package. But the oil’s effect soon had him forgetting any shame as he became flushed.

Cern then retrieved a soft buckskin strap and covered Baen’s eyes. 

Then with a deep breath Cern said, “It’s time.”

Baen stiffened as he recognized the sound of a dagger being unsheathed but resigned himself to his fate. His clan would live. He waited for the sharp sting of the dagger to slice across his throat.

Baen felt the knife as it was drawn across his chest. As the sharp blade pressed into his skin, Baen waited for the pain to start and the blood to drip. He held his breath but then there was no pain.

Cern started gently scraping and shaving away the hair on Baen’s body. He removed his chest hair, careful of Baen’s perked nipples. He shaved around Baen’s crotch shaping his hair into a neatly trimmed triangle. Baen was confused. He was being shaved?

“Spread your legs and keep still,” Cern said.

Baen obeyed despite his confusion. Gulping as he felt the wizard pulling his sack tight.

‘Fuck, please, no,’ Baen thinks but keeps to his oath to obey the warlock and doesn’t move.

Cern gently but firmly cupped Baen’s sack and shaved him. Baen released his breath when the knife left his crotch.

Cern instructed Baen to bend over and use his hands to spread his cheeks. Baen’s already flushed countenance grew deeper red as the enchanter carefully removed the hair around his hole with the sharp dagger. Somebody whimpered as the wizard finished his task. Then Baen realized it was him. He bit his lip to stop any other sound from coming out. 

Smack. 

Baen yelped as his over-sensitized skin on his rump was slapped.

“Did ye not hear me, lad? Stand up,” Cern said eyeing Baen.

Baen straightened up and was relieved when he heard the knife being resheathed.

Cern next turned to the pitcher where the stag’s horn root was steeping. He dipped a sea sponge into the warm water and scrunched the sponge in his hand to bring up the frothing lather. Cern turned towards the figure standing in the wooden tub before him.

This man definitely had a warrior’s body. His shoulders were wide and his arms bulged with muscle. His pecs were well defined and his stomach was covered with rippled abdominals that Cern ached to touch. His waist had that strip of muscle on either side that led the eye directly to the crotch. The man was of good size. His cock at half-mast and surrounded by a triangle of now neatly trimmed dark brown curls.

Cern licked his lips at the sight of his sacrifice before him but he couldn’t get ahead of himself.

“They rarely got past the first stage,” the conjurer muttered to himself. Trying not to remember the festivals of old where men competed to be his sacrifice. Now with the new god moving in, he was resigned to the few and far between offerings of desperate mortals who barely remembered the time before.

Copyright Savannah McTavish Publishing 

Do not copy to any other website.

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SparkyGreen
SparkyGreen

Love to write short stories about romance, erotica and sci-fi.


Celtic Winter, Kilty Pleasures NSFW M/M Erotica
Celtic Winter, Kilty Pleasures NSFW M/M Erotica

Continuation of my post Roots of the Past. Erotica Man on Man NSFW. Don't like? Then don't read.

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