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an original story by Andrej Koymasky


THE FORCEPS
MARK
CHAPTER 1
BIRTH AND KIDNAPPING OF PRINCE NIELS

Once upon a time there lived a king named Harold; he was much loved by his subjects and dread to the kings of the neighboring lands. His Queen, Gertrude, was the beloved of her subjects for her beauty and kindness. Poor King Harold, he had lived over forty summers and was without an heir.

A minister in court pushed the King to divorce Gertrude or take a concubine, but Harold deeply loved her and refused to hear of this. Rather, the king said he would adopt one of his sister's sons making him his throne heir. But other councilors were against this; the kings sisters were married with the neighboring kings, and that could create a dangerous precedent and the possibility than one day a neighboring king could lay claim to the land.

So King Harold, upon hearing the advice of one of the queen's ladies-in-waiting, decided to try a last way.

In great secret, they left the castle with with two trusted knights and were dressed in sackcloth like lowly pilgrims. They went in pilgrimage to the Eagle's Mount, where a holy man, famous for his prescience, lived. When they reached the foot of the mountain. The king made everyone stop and, stripped purple and gold, worn a sack, making take off brocades and veils to the bride and made her wear another sack, barefoot, they went to the cave of the holy hermit alone.

"A fair afternoon it is, King Harold and Queen Gertrude; what brings ye hither?" the holy man asked when they bowed at the front of his cave.

The hermit had never seen the King or Queen before; verily the sackcloth had not hidden from him who the two pilgrims were. The King asked him filled with amazement: "How canst thou, oh Brett, most holy man, know who we are?"

"The God of this land told me in a dream of your coming visit; and also the reason wherefore you came here. Your prayers shall be answered, your grace, your hopes shall be fulfilled, oh Queen. You shall have two sons; both, in different ways, shall be sources of great sorrow for you. Alas and alack, this is what I see."

"But will mine heir be a good king?"

"Yes, your grace, he will."

"That suffices me, holy man. Even if my spouse and I have to suffer, it will do. How can I give thee thanks for these tidings, holy man?"

"I'm just a spokesman. Thank the god, oh king, giving your first son his name and consecrating him to the god Niel. Do you know what means to consecrate a boy to the god Niel, don't you?"

"That he could never have a woman, pain his wrath. But, how can he give an heir to his reign, then?"

"The God will see to this too, if thy son is faithful unto him."

"Good, this also will be done." the king answered bowing to the venerable old man.

Then the hermit placed his hands on the queen's head, then on the king's head, twice, and intoned, "Thou shalt be blessed with thy first son in two years upon this day, and your second in five years, always upon this day. So that thou shaltl know that the God watches over thy household, notwithstanding the trials that will follow. Thou and thy good wife must unite at the new moon, at the first quarter, at the full moon and at the last quarter but at no other time mayst ye unite. Thou must have next to thy wedding bed a basin filled with spring water and in it a mistletoe branch and a butcher's broom branch. And the God will give thee thy promised sons. Thou canst go, now, with the blessing of the God."

The King and Queen went back to the Court happy and the king told his councilors the day when the heir to the throne would be born. They, in disbelief, decided to wait the two years the king asked.

After fifteen months the queen joyously announced that she didn't have her periods, and thus she was awaiting the birth of her first son. The queen and her ladies-in-waiting, sewed the layette for the baby, sure it would be a boy. The king struck a golden medal with the god Niel's symbols, a burned tree with a green branch and a great stone with a cave, with which he would consecrate his son to the God, the same day of his birth, with solemn rites.

Come the day of birth, her labor pains were agonizing; it seemed as if the boy didn't want to be born. The midwife decided to use forceps to help birth the baby. He came out big, strong, and beautiful notwithstanding the labor; and at once threw his first vigorous cry on the air; a very good omen. All the ladies in waiting merrily laughed and clapped their hands with joy.

But the forceps left a mark on the left side of the baby; three deep red scars, three vertical strips, just under his arm pit. The poor midwife was worried about this mark and feared the king's wrath; but he was so happy with the birth of his promised son, he forgave her. Taking his son in his hands, he went to the window of his castle hall and showed him to his nobles and knights gathered, and they greeted the prince with shouts of joy.

Then the king said: "I consecrate my firstborn son and heir, to the god Niel, therefore his name will be Niels. As a sign of this consecration, I put this medal around his neck. Be my witness, oh my people!"

Great cries of joy came from the throng at the king's words, and the knights shouted: "Long life to the price Niels!"

Then little Niels was wrapped in swaddling clothes of the finest linen and brought back to the queen, who gave him his first feed. The newborn suckled with vigor, while the ladies-in-waiting welcomed with coos at this new good omen.

From the neighboring kingdoms came gifts for the newborn baby, from kings who loved King Harold and those who didn't. Even King Oder sent precious gifts, in spite of the ancient rivalry between the two neighboring kingdoms. Harold accepted them with grace, and with words of peace to the messengers from his neighbor.

Niels was growing healthy and strong. On his first birthday, the king decided he had to be taken to the holy man on the mountain in order to get his blessing, and to thank him again for the promised heir. Queen Gertrude didn't want to be parted from her son and received permission to accompany the child from King Harold. The small cortege left on horses, escorted by five ladies in waiting and seven knights.

But someone at kings Harold Court, paid by king Oder to spy, at once sent a message about this journey that would bring the party not far from the border of the two kingdoms. So Oder choose ten of his best men, had them dress like the thieves from the mountains and sent them to intercept the cortege. He wanted to seize Niels as an hostage, to force King Harold to surrender to him a strip of land towards the sea that his family had for generations desired and that in several wars had not been able to take.

King Oder's men lay in wait along the road at a good place for an ambush, and intercepted the cortege and attacked it. It was a quick and furious battle. Three men of Oder seized the baby prince, tearing him from his mother's arms. The queen fainted. The tree men left at gallop towards the mountains, while the other seven men fought against the seven knights of king Harold. When the battle was over, the seven men of Oder and four knights of Harold were dead, and two more knights seriously wounded, but there was no trace to be found of the little prince.

The queen, the ladies and the three unlucky surviving knights went immediately back at Court. King Harold summoned all his knights to decide what to do. Meanwhile the three men of King Oder passed the mountains going towards the place where the baby prince would be held prisoner and where two ladies-in-waiting of Oder's spouse awaited to take care of the infant. While on the road, a gang of real brigands assailed the three men, thinking they were carrying some treasure. The three men were overcome and killed. When the brigands saw that the load on the fourth horse was just a small baby, the men of Oder had previously changed into common clothes, they didn't suspect that they had their hands on a prince and were perplexed.

"A brat! Three armed men to escort a brat? This is strange. It's a pity we killed them, we cannot even know who this little brat is. Probably the son of a rich merchant they kidnapped to ransom. Like this, he is of no use to us." the chief said, shaking his head, and frowning.

"Lets leave him here in the woods. We did get four good horses and wonderful weapons." one of the men said.

"He will die, if we abandon him here." another man said.

"Who gives a shit?" the first asked.

"No, I don't want to soil my hands with the death of a baby, we will be dogged by bad luck!" said another.

"We'll take him to the nearest village and leave him by the well - some woman will take care of him... or of her..." then the chief decided.

"It's a him, look here what a willy!" one of the men said uncovering the baby. The others looked and laughed. The man, laughing continued: "I'm sure some woman will take care of such a willy!"

So Niels was wrapped again in the the small rug, put back in the basket on the side of the horse that carried him, and the brigands took him to the nearest village in the land of King Oder. When they were in sight of the village, one of the brigands dismounted, took the basket and left it near the well. Then they all left in a gallop.

In the village, they had feared the group of brigands coming and then were happy to see them leave. After a while a group of women, still somewhat worried, went to get water from the well. Were the brigands to return they knew full well that they would have been raped. It had happened before. When they came and went while letting themselves be seen, the villagers presumed that they were not planning an ambush.

When the women came near the well, they saw the basket. Curious, they went nearer and saw the baby, white and pink, his blond hair clear like sun rays, his eyes a clear blue, and the boy was looking quietly at the faces gaping at him and he smiled.

"A baby!"

"For the Gods, how beautiful he is!"

"Look at him, he seems an elf..."

"Why would they abandoned him here?"

"How little it is, he is still unweaned..."

"Look how he smiles quietly..."

In spite of the villages poverty, more than one of the women begged her husband to take in the baby. At the end it was decided to give him to a woman who was still feeding her youngest child, and whose husband did not rise objections.

Meanwhile, the men of King Harold were in search of the little prince, but to no avail. Away from the ambush site, they found the prince's bands and his medallion, but even after they had combed the whole area, there was no trace of the kidnappers. For a while King Harold waited for the request of a ransom, possibly from bandits, but months were passing; after a long, cold Winter, Spring came back and there was no news about the little Niels. The King and Queen went into mourning and everybody wept over the loss of the heir.

A year went by and the queen was pregnant of the second promised son.

"This son will be my heir, he can marry and have children. Perhaps it was right this the holy man intended, my sweet Gertrude... Let's accept the will of destiny."

The new born was called Bjorn. He too was blond, but had eyes of a gilded hazelnut color. Queen Gertrude, every month, went to throw a flowers garland in the waters of the river, when the moon was full, not being able to forget her son Niels, and praying the Gods in the secret of her heart he was still alive, and to protect him.


Meanwhile Niels, who was now called Olaf, was growing, in the village secluded in the mountains, with the other children, learning soon to carry out small tasks -- to recognize edible herbs and roots, leaves and fruits, then learning to care for the goats that the villagers bred, to braid the straw to make shoes for winter. Winter was long and had few hours of light; everybody stayed in the snow covered huts, to do works for the good season. Women wove, men prepared tools, children played near the fire or listened to the old people tales.

Olaf was growing strong and beautiful, he was a good boy, cheerful, obedient and helpful, and made everybody like him. He had become very skilled with his sling, and at times he caught animals which he proudly brought to the woman who acted as his mother, so that she could cook them.

It was spring, and Olaf was eleven, when one of his step brothers, Drach, who was fourteen, while they were sitting on a stone near a small lake, caring for their goats, came near him and, without saying a word, but with a cunning smile, started to play in Olaf's breeches.

"Hey, what are you doing? You are tickling me!" Olaf said laughing.

"I'll teach you a nice game... You too play with my thing..."

"Why? What game is it?" the little boy asked curious.

They often bathed naked, therefore Olaf didn't feel ashamed. He did what his brother told him to do and soon the two boys, opened each other breeches, were playing each other. That had Drach hard and erect.

"What game is it?" the little boy again asked, looking at the member not yet fully developed but already surrounded by the first hairs, of his step brother.

"It is a nice game that boys do. You stroke mine for me, I yours. It is fun. At the end it comes out a white milk..."

"Milk? From here?" the boy asked disbelieving, but continuing to stroke his step brother as his step brother was doing to him.

"Well it is not really milk, it looks like it. I don't know if it comes out from you, but it comes from me. I'm becoming a man."

"Who thought you this game?"

"My cousin Welle. He had me stroke out his milk. But now Welle stopped doing it with me. He now has his girl and does this with her."

"But girls don't have the thing, how can they do it?"

"They have a slit. And there, inside, the boy can push his thing until the white milk comes out. That's how babies are made."

"From the white milk?" the little boy asked, even more doubtful than before, feeling he was starting to have a certain pleasure at the other's play.

"The white milk goes inside the woman, and feeds the small being that is inside her, so he grows, until he becomes a child and comes out... or something like that... Hey, say, do you like it?"

"Sorta."

"I like it. When you grow older, you will like it a lot when you can sprout your milk."

"Do you do this game also with anyone else?"

"At times. It is a game that boys do amongst themselves, before they can do it with a girl. Ooh, here... it is about coming out..." Drach said, suddenly tensing.

Olaf saw him shuddering and really, from the tip of the young member sprouted out trickles of a white liquid.

"Ooh, that's great, Olaf!" the boy panted spreading his seed on the grass.

Olaf took up a drop of it with his finger, smelled it, brushed it between two fingertips, then tested its taste with his tongue tip: "But it doesn't taste like milk." he said thoughtfully.

"It is not really milk, I told you. It just looks like it."

"And when it comes out... is it good?"

"Yes, really great. You'll see, when it starts to come out to you too, how great it is." the boy said tidying his breeches.

As Olaf tidied himself he was thoughtful. He felt a light sense of pleasure, but nothing great...

After that day, when Drach pulled it out and started to caress it, Olaf went silently near him and caressed it until he came, while his step brother caressed his.

Winter came and as the two boys shared a pallet, and out of sight of the others, in the dark they often did that game, when Drach stroked him between his legs, making him know what he desired. And finally, one night, when Olaf was twelve, the first drops came out of his stiffy and the little boy moaned with pleasure.

"Shush" his adoptive brother whispered as he put his hand on his mouth.

"It came out..." Olaf whispered, upset.

"Yes, I felt it. You are starting to become a man too."

"It's really great!"

"I told you, didn't I?"

Spring came, and back out in the open, when they were alone, it was Olaf at times to pull it out the first, and soon the other too pulled it out going near him with a sweet smile, and they kept themselves happy. At times they made contests to whom could shoot farther. And Olaf, as he was growing, was aware that he liked that game more and more.

Olaf was thirteen when Drach found a girl, and stopped playing with him. Olaf was sad that Drach didn't do the games any more, and, even if he felt the desire, he didn't dare to propose to other boys. He had a natural sense of decency and Drach had told him that the grown up people doesn't understand this game, even if they played it when boys. But old people forget. Olaf told himself that he would never forget such a good thing. Dreaming to find a friend with whom do it, he was settled for doing it alone.

He was fourteen the first time a girl touched him between his legs. At first Olaf was aroused, but when at his turn he parted the girls clothes and found nothing, his erection disappeared. He was disappointed. If he could not touch a good hard member, what pleasure could one have? He asked himself.

So then, he avoided that girl, and the other girls. It was better to do it alone, rather than with a girl. He couldn't understand how Drach and the other grown up boys could like it so much.

Olaf was fifteen when his step father died in a landslide. After a while his step mother decided to marry again. But the man put the condition she arrange for her children, to live elsewhere because he didn't want in his home children who were not his. Drach, who was now eighteen, married and had built a new hut. The youngest child was taken in by a sister.

The woman brought Olaf down the valley, to a town, and found him a job as the baker's boy, who was a second cousin of her late husband.

"I am sorry I have to leave you, Olaf. But I am still young, I have to think to my life. Moreover, you are grown up, now, and here you will learn a good trade." the woman said to him with a slight sense of guilt.

"Yes, I understand, it is all right." Olaf said, but felt abandoned by the woman who had been to him like a mother. The woman said good bye to him and went back to her village to marry.

The baker's name was Petre, and he had at home his the two youngest sons who hadn't married; Lukas, eighteen, and Jan twenty. Petre slept with his wife above the store; the two sons on the ground floor in a small room behind the oven. They shared a wide pallet. In a corner of the room the baker added a small pallet for Olaf.

Lukas and Jan treated Olaf like a servant, but the boy was willingly available to the hundred tasks he was requested to carry out, always smiling and ready. Life in town seemed like a dream to Olaf, compared to the misery of the village. Also the meals were rich and plentiful with fresh bread he could eat to his fill. Petre was a surly man and of few words, but generous. He gave Olaf some of the clothes his sons had out grown; Olaf found them wonderful, light and soft, even if patched in places. What a fine life, compared to that in the village!

Some three months after moving into the baker's house, one night he was waken up by strange noises. The lantern, that was shut off when they went to sleep, was now relit. Lukas and Jan were sitting, half naked, on their pallet, and were jerking off each other.

They were giggling: "... anyway mine is bigger, Lukas."

"But mine is longer..." the other replied in a whisper.

Olaf got aroused seeing the members of the two youths vigorously moved up and down, and instinctively pulled out his own and started to masturbate in his turn, wishing to touch them, to be touched by them as he did when a little boy with Drach. A sudden creaking from his pallet drew the attention of the two brothers who turned towards him.

"Hey, the boy is spying on us!" Jan said standing up from the pallet, his member hard and bouncing, and going to the boy's pallet, at once followed by Lukas, "What do you have to look, eh?"

"I... nothing..." Olaf said intimidated.

Jan took away with one gesture his blanket and looked, between the boy's thighs, at the hand still tight around the member that was rapidly shrinking from fear.

"Look, he was beating his meat... spying on us..." Jan said sneering.

"We have to give him a good lesson, right Jan?"

"A lesson? What lesson?"

"Pull off his breaches... If he likes so much our cocks, we can satisfy his fancy, isn't it?" Lukas said slowly stroking himself and drawing nearer Olaf's pallet.

"Yees... that's really a great idea!" Jan said with a wicked smile, he bent and with few quick moves stripped off Olaf's clothes.

The boy, trembling, let him do, not understanding what the other wanted to do - spank him, perhaps?

Jan knelt on Olaf pallet and made him lay on his belly, then lay on top of him and tried to penetrate him. The boy felt a great pain and tried to struggle free. Lukas got on the pallet and held the boy fast while Jan held the Olaf's mouth shut with his hand to prevent him to cry, started again to force his willy inside the boy. Olaf was scared and feeling a sharp pain. He tried to escape them but they were merciless and Jan with strong pushes, raped him. Olaf cried and writhed, while the two brothers kept him still, laughing. Then Jan mounted him with vigor, pounding his little violated ass. When at last the older brother emptied himself on the boy's depths, Olaf thought that they now would leave him alone but the two youths simply exchanged places. While Jan held him still, Lukas let lose his passions inside the boy. Jan, with a low voice, encouraged his brother to fuck the boy stronger, laughing amused. They finally left him alone, went back to their bed and snuffed the lantern,

"That was really a great fuck, wasn't it, Lukas?"

"Yes, and we have him here every night. What do you think of that? We have now also a pussy-boy, what fun."

"Yes, right. Why didn't we think of that before. Did you ever screw a boy's ass, before, Lukas?"

"Yes, the shop-boy we had last year. And you?"

"No, that's my first time, but I liked it. You didn't tell me that you fucked that boy..."

"I didn't know if you had wanted to. I thought you liked just girls."

"Yes but... This pussy-boy's little ass... I liked it. I want to fuck it again."

"Well, now that we have him, we will not let him escape, right?"

Olaf was listening these words, trembling. After a while he decided to dress, to cover himself. His ass was hurting, pangs of pain at each little movement. His hear beat strongly and was not able to fall asleep. Why did the two brothers that thing to him? Because he looked at them touching each other? But Drach never did that to him, on the contrary, had been kind with him. They hurt him, he still was sore... but they said it was great, they wanted to it again. Perhaps, if he avoided looking at them, they would forgive him and no more threat him that way. Finally he fell asleep.

The next morning, the two brothers treated him as always so Olaf thought they had forgiven him. Just the dull pain between his buttocks he felt at each pace, reminded him what happened that night. The day passed normally, and Olaf did its utmost to behave himself and to be ready to obey Petre and to the two brothers. Evening came, they ate, then it was time to go to sleep.

"Olaf, come over here..." Lukas said without shutting off the lantern, with honeyed voice.

"Yes..." the boy hesitant said, stood up from his pallet and went near the two youths.

"Come, come on the pallet, here between us..." Jan said making him room.

Olaf, seeing the smiles of the two brothers, went between them rather assured. But as soon as he lay down, Lukas started to undress him and Olaf understood.

"No, please... it still hurts me..." the boy moaned, scared, but Lukas was briskly lowering his breeches.

Olaf tried to stand up, but Jan stopped him and said, sharply: "Listen, pussy boy, shut up, not a single word, not a single sound, or we made you regret. Be silent and still; you understood?"

Olaf, trembling nodded yes. He felt Jan bustling at his back, then again felt that terrible pang of pain when the youth started to enter him. Tears come out, but he didn't emit the slightest sound. He saw the scoffing smile of Lukas, who was holding him fast for the benefit of his brother who was hammering in him with the usual force.

"Go on, Jan, open him well, so after you I too can screw his ass. You like it, eh, brother?"

"Geez... it is so hot and tight..." his brother panted, and got going with pleasure and force.

Meanwhile Lukas fiddled with the soft member of the boy: "What, it doesn't get hard? Don't you like it, pussy-boy? An instead, we like it so much! Right Jan?"

"Yes, better than a girl. And we don't risk to make him pregnant!" the other sneered continuing to hammer inside the boy with energy.

When Jan shot his load, they made Olaf turn over to his other side. Jan held fast the boy for his brother and Lukas immediately impaled him with the same force his brother had.

Jan asked him: "Tell me, who was better the boy you had before, or Olaf? Eh, tell me?"

"Olaf's better. He is tighter. That boy took too many cocks too many times."

"But I bet he didn't cry like a little girl, right?" Jan asked, looking at the upset face of the boy, wet with tears, and sneering.

"No, he liked it. He really enjoyed taking it up his ass and he would ask me to screw his hole often..."

"Well, we'll make our pussy-boy love it, you'll see. It's a matter of time..."

After Lukas was satisfied they let him go back to his pallet, sore and humiliated. The following night they ordered him to get undress before lying between them and they took turns with him again. The days were passeing and they didn't seem to tire of the cruelty, rather, now, when nobody could see them, they started to finger his little ass and to make obscene allusions during daylight.

Olaf didn't weep any more. The pain had become less sharp, more dull, and each night he underwent that double violence with desperate resignation. The boy became taciturn and closed in himself, he lost his former sweet and carefree smile.

One day when Petre and his wife were out to contract with the miller the purchase of the new flour, Jan said to the boy: "Go in our room and strip, I feel like fucking you."

"But I have to clean the store..." Olaf protested.

"I told you to go in our room and strip!" Jan shouted and hit him with a strong slap.

"No, please Jan... wait tonight, don't do it again this morning..."

"What's up?" Lukas, who came attracted by the shout, asked.

"That he refuses to be fucked, the pussy-boy!" Jan said furious.

Lukas became upset and yelled: "Whaaat?" and started to beat Olaf.

"No, no, all right... stop... please... I'm going, I'll obey... " the boy yelled crying and rushed inside the small room, undressed and threw himself on his belly on the brother's pallet, scared and trembling.

The brothers came in and, first Jan then Lukas, raped him with more violence than usual. And when Olaf tried to stand up, he was roughly pushed down and Jan was again on him and he fucked him again.

Lukas burst out in laughter: "Hey, you like screwing him, Jan?"

"Yes, the idea he doesn't want but he has to take it all the same, gets me hot. You are our slave, Olaf, you know that? You cannot refuse, you have no rights. You have to take it any time we decide to fuck you, is that clear? You also have to thank us because we deign amuse ourselves with your ass, is that clear? You are our pussy-boy, Olaf, our slave!"

Olaf was shaken by the violence in the voice, in the body of Jan, and by the laughter of Lukas, and he felt his brain suddenly becoming empty, like if the body undergoing that violence was no more his own, and he fainted.

Jan felt him suddenly relax, and, thinking that the boy did just surrender to the unavoidable, continued to take him with pleasure until he reached his orgasm.

"Ha, I really enjoyed it! Do you want to fuck him again, Lukas?"

"No later, eventually. You can dress now, Olaf and go to clean the store." Lukas said slapping him on the ass. But the boy was still. "Go on, don't lie there wasting your time! Stand up!" Lukas insisted. He shook the boy and became aware that Olaf's body was inert. "Oh shit, Jan! Isn't he dead, this idiot?" said with alarmed voice. Jan bent on the boy, slightly worried.

"No... nobody dies from being fucked..." the elder brother said, "Just help me to dress him, now, and put him on his pallet. He just fainted... Possibly he liked it too much..." he sneered as they put him on his pallet.

When Olaf recovered his senses, felt very weak. He opened his eyes and saw Jan looking at him.

When the young man saw that the boy opened his eyes, said with a wicked smile: "Welcome back amongst us, Olaf. Now relax a while, later Lukas will come to fuck you."

"No... please... enough..." the boy pleaded with a hint of voice, pale and trembling.

Jan grabbed his shirt collar, with his paw raised his head: "Wasn't that enough of a lesson? Do we have to whip you a while to make you understand that your ass belongs to us and we take it when and how much we want? You are our slave, is that clear or not? Rather, now... Lukas Come here! Our pussy- boy needs to feel your cock in his ass again!" he shouted starting to strip the boy.

Lukas came in, an amused expression on his face, and started to fuck again the boy.


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