GIFTED

A. R. Bell

Nobody knew where he had come from. Some said that one unusually hot night in August, a star had fallen from the sky and landed right by the eastern wall of Putna Citadel. When people rushed to the spot, it was so hot and smoky that no one could get near and the next day Bogdan was presented as the new captain of Moldova’s army. Others claimed that he was the illegitimate son of the late Lady Ileana, hidden from the sight of the people until he was fifteen years of age for fear of curses. However, it was the first story that seemed the most plausible, since nothing could go on in the Citadel without the nosy maids finding out and gossiping about it the kitchens.

Bogdan was tall and of a rather dark complexion, with eyes so black and deep that old women felt the need to make the sign of the cross and whisper a little prayer every time they passed him in the square. He’d fought many battles against the invading Turks and came back victorious in most. Radu, the King of Moldova, held him in great esteem and not a day went by without him seeking Bogdan’s council. Today was no exception, as they both sat in the tent raised by the Black Sea. It was a cold, windy evening and the water seemed to foresee the bloody battle that was about to unleash itself on its peaceful shore.

“We should not have come here,” Bogdan said, gazing upon his lord, who was eating a piece of cold lamb steak. “We should have stayed in Putna and waited for them there.”

“They would have pillaged our villages and burned our crops on their way. It’s our duty to defend our people, not only our castle.”

“Your people…” Bogdan began, but stopped as he saw Radu getting up and coming very close to him.

“Our people. Mine and yours.”

The young captain remained silent. Radu was only five years his elder. He had a larger frame and golden hair that hung down upon his shoulders. His countenance was mean enough to freeze any enemy solider in his tracks and his strong arms had slain many of them, to be sure. Moldova was ruled with an iron fist, and all those who wronged against it suffered the cruelest of fates. Bogdan was probably the only one who didn’t fear the Moldovian ruler and made a habit of challenging his decisions and second-guessing his actions. Still, aware of the proud nature of the King, he only acted like this in private. Tonight was no exception.

“We are outnumbered, M’lord.”

“Bogdan, for the one thousandth time, stop calling me that when we are alone.”

“Fine,” came the reply, though he well knew he would never stop calling him this. “There will still be a lot more Turks than us,” he then added.

“I know. But they do not expect us to be waiting for them here.”

“Many of us will perish.”

“They will die in glory.”

“Maybe I will—”

Bogdan was stopped mid-sentence by the Moldovian King, who had once more got up and violently pushed him.

“You will never, ever, say that again. You are my captain and you will not only live but come out of it unscarred. Is that clear?”

“It is not up to you.” Bogdan pushed him back. “Not this time.”

“Bogdan…I wish for you to live.”

“Why? I have been wondering just that for five years now. Why is my life so precious to you? Why did you—?”

“Enough!” Radu’s voice thundered. “We need to rest. The enemy will be here at dawn, and may God help us.”

“We might have upset Him with our daring. I think we will lose.”

“I’ll wager you we won’t.”

“What do you wager?”

The King managed the briefest of grins. “If we come away victorious, I want you shaved.”

“And if we lose?”

“If we lose, I’ll give you whatever you wish.”

“I want to know.” The words hung there. They both knew their meaning.

“So be it.”

The two men were only inches from each other, the royal tent now suffused with a heavy air.

“Good night, M’lord,” Bogdan said, literally running out while Radu stood there trying to compose himself. He needed to win this battle, not only for Moldova but for himself.

Back in his own tent, the captain was getting ready for sleep when a young boy came in apologizing for the intrusion but saying he had a message. Bogdan didn’t need to ask from whom.

“What is the message?”

“Well…” the boy stammered, “the message is, It’s not about your beard.”

Bogdan instantly blushed and sent the boy away, giving him a silver coin for his trouble. Sleep did not find him that night, as all he could think of was Radu’s indecent message. Had he really meant what he thought? His heart was pounding hard, his cock even harder.

So much blood had been spilled at Adamclisi before noon on that mid-November morning that the angry waves of the stormy sea could not wash it away for days. Hungry sharks came from miles around to feast on the mutilated bodies. The beach was an even more frightful sight.

The Turkish ships had arrived as expected at sunrise and the brave Moldovians were there to give them the greeting of their iron swords. They fought for hours, and over five thousand souls went to the Heavens that day, some to meet Allah, some to be welcomed by Saint Peter. In the end, the Muslims waved their white flags and the ships carrying what was left of their army fled back to Istanbul, while the Christians were left tired and victorious on the shore to tend to their wounded and mourn their dead.

Once the infernal clamor subsided, Radu looked around and met Bogdan’s gaze. There was something that made them never lose sight of each other, even in the madness of battle. This time Moldova’s ruler strode over and placed his arm around the other man’s shoulder. They were quite a sight, the well-built blond man and the slender, dark-haired captain, both covered in thick armor and matted blood.

“We won. I shall see you in my tent. Don’t make me wait,” Radu said, and though his sentences were short and he tried to seem his determined self, Bogdan could tell that he was flushed. Could the King be as nervous as he was? Bogdan wondered.

He decided not to delay their meeting for too long, so he made for the royal tent, walking directly to his King. He found him wearing a clean tunic and trousers, his hair combed and tied. He was incredibly handsome, the epitome of power and might.

“Did you receive my message yesterday?” Radu asked without even bidding him welcome.

“You know I did,” Bogdan replied, approaching closer and looking straight into the deep-blue eyes of his Sovereign. “Do you want me to do it and then present myself or is it your wish to watch?” he asked, and he was surprised at the effect his own words had on him.

“I will take great pleasure in doing that myself.”

“I bet you will.”

“Is it wise to keep making bets with me?” “I lost the ability to be wise around you years ago, as you are well aware.”

“Am I now?” Radu suddenly had a sheepish smile on his lips.

Instead of giving him an answer, Bogdan dropped his breeches and stood only in his white tunic.

“Where do you want me?”

At that, the supreme ruler of Moldova lost his composure and grabbed the younger man’s head, bringing the captain’s mouth to his own in a violent kiss. In all his life, all the battles and the victories, all the traitors he had caught and punished, all the joys and all the sorrows together did not hold the intensity of this one moment. Years of tormented, sleepless nights and feelings of guilt melded into this storming dance of tongues that let Radu know that the man he had craved for all this time wanted him just as badly.

“That did not answer my question,” Bogdan eventually said with amazing composure.

“What? How can you? Do you not…” The Sovereign was at a loss for words, a situation he didn’t find himself in very often.

“Oh, I do, M’lord, but you have taunted me for so long with your aloofness that now you will have to play your own game a little longer. Ah, I see you have prepared the basin and razor over here,” he said, simply, and kneeled on the soft mattress that was on the floor. “I lost a wager, now I must suffer the consequences.”

“It’s odd how you have managed to turn your punishment into my torment.”

“It serves you well for torturing both of us for the better part of the last five years.”

Radu could not believe how this handsome foreigner, who was now on all fours on his mattress in such a servile posture, actually had him, the mighty ruler, eating out of the palm of his hand. But he decided two could dance that dance, and so he took the soap and soaked it for a bit in the basin, then started to lather first his hands, then the soft skin between Bogdan’s hairy asscheeks, all the way down, taking the captain’s throbbing length into his palm and making it expand even farther. They were both out of breath and neither dared speak for fear that the moment so long waited for would end.

After that, the soap was applied to Bogdan’s face. The sharp blade of the razor, which was next lifted up, felt cold on his heated skin. He could hear the scraping as the thick hairs were plowed off him. All of it was most unreal.

Radu was obviously taking his time, running his thumb over each new bald patch. This intimate action held more magic for him than all the stories made up of how this handsome man arrived at his court. Perhaps their encounter had, after all, been from another world. How else could he explain that moment of utter bliss in the middle of the most hellish battle he had ever been a part of? That night, five years prior, he had seen all his trusted captains fall victim to enemy blades. He had all but given up hope when, after the falling of a Turk he had stabbed, there stood this young boy with his dark beautiful eyes. He was armed, but did not motion to attack, and, mesmerized by the depth of his gaze, Radu put down his weapon. On impulse, he grabbed the boy’s arm and strode all the way to his tent. Never before had the Moldovian ruler left the field of battle, but at that point, the urge to protect this seemingly magical apparition was stronger than his own patriotism.

The battle had been lost, but Radu was not sad. He found the boy waiting patiently in his tent, right where he had left him, even though he had used no restraints. They traveled back to Putna, and for the following year, he hid this handsome Turk from the world, forbidding everyone to enter his chambers and spending every spare moment teaching him the language of his land.

“You seem distracted from the job at hand,” Bogdan said, breaking Radu’s train of thought.

“Are you getting cold?”

“Just a little bored. I was hoping for my punishment to be more…entertaining.”

“And what would entertain you now?” he asked, running his thumb along the freshly shaven skin.

“I think you know very well, M’lord. Since you have so thoroughly plowed the field, you might as well put in the seed.”

“How eloquent in Moldovian you have become.”

“I had a great instructor, who spent many hours doing nothing else but teach me the proper way to speak it.”

“Is there an accusation in that?”

“You know there is.”

“As appealing as this view is, Bogdan, I would rather you said it to my face.”

The young man turned around and now lay on the mattress with his legs spread and his hands under his head. Radu was in awe of the beautiful circumcised cock that was holding firm, almost in spite of itself.

“I’m accusing you of torturing both of us for far too long. I left my country and my people to be with you. I was yours to do with as you pleased for a whole year, hidden in your chambers, and you not so much as laid a finger on me. Why?”

“You were fifteen!”

“It’s been five years since then! Five whole years of torture.”

“I just wanted you to be old enough to be certain.”

“I am extremely certain,” he panted. “Now get undressed and come here!”

“I was under the impression you were mine to do with as I please,” Radu said with a smile as he started to undress.

“That was five years ago.”

“Still, you lost the wager, so now you shall do as I say. At least this time.”

Bogdan growled in frustration.

“What more do you want from me?”

“Everything!” Moldova’s ruler barked before collapsing on the mattress next to his captain, claiming his mouth in an ardent kiss. The hunger they had for each other was enormous and their tongues tried to conquer and consume in a desperate attempt to make up for all the lost time and unspoken longings. There was no tenderness in this embrace of warriors, only infinite desire and a sprinkling of revenge. Hands grabbed both golden and black locks in an attempt to bring their faces even closer, to deepen this union, to be as entwined with each other as possible.

Then Radu broke the kiss and looked deep into the black eyes of the one who had stolen his soul on a bloody, muddy battlefield on that enchanted October five years back.

“I want you so badly!” he said, almost out of breath now.

“Then have me already!” came the impatient reply as Bogdan turned onto his stomach, pushing himself up just a little.

“In due time, my dear.”

“It’s past due time already, M’lord.”

“So submissive for somebody who was commanding me to have him mere seconds ago.” Radu’s fingers gently caressed the proffered opening. “I think some soothing is in order first,” he said, pouring some lavender-scented oil and spreading it gently over the now bare sensitive skin.

Bogdan was so aroused that he thought he might release himself there and then. He closed his eyes and felt his lover scooping a strong arm under him, lifting him up so that he could rest on hands and knees, all while coming up behind him. The moment when he would at last be filled would not be far away now, even though it felt as if he had waited an eternity for it.

“I know you are eager, but we need to do this slowly,” Radu said as he inserted his calloused finger, earning a pleasure-filled growl for his troubles. He then gently started to move inside the handsome young man, stretching him little by little with his digit, while the rest of his hand was caressing the captain. As he felt his lover pushing against his hand, Radu inserted a second finger and started to thrust in and out, in and out, all the time mindful of the sounds his ministrations were producing.

“I will come like this if you don’t fuck me already!”

“And that’s bad?” Radu asked, in a playful voice.

“Damn it, Radu, just…” He could not finish his sentence, because quite suddenly he felt a large cock slam into him. It slid in rather easily, but, startled and disconcerted by a small stab of pain, Bogdan lost his balance and landed flat on his stomach. To his surprise, Radu had anticipated this, and his right hand had cupped his throbbing prick, saving it from an unpleasant impact.

“I’m sorry,” Radu said and motioned to pull out, but Bogdan reached his hand around and held his lover in place.

“No, it’s fine. I want this. More than anything in the world.” He tried to rise a little, but felt the warm weight of his ruler holding him down.

“Don’t. It’s more comfortable for you this way.”

“I don’t need you to spare me.” Bogdan was panting now.

“I’m not.” The King again pushed inside his subject, closely observing his body language. It didn’t seem to hurt, so Radu resumed his thrusts, gently at first, then less and less delicately, until his relentless slamming resulted in a loud and explosive orgasm on his part, white seed bursting forth before dripping out and down Bogdan’s hairy thigh.

“Forgive me,” he said, pulling out and rolling on his side to look at the beautiful face that was now flushed.

“What the devil for?” Bogdan asked, out of breath.

Radu placed a finger on his mouth. “Do not call him in such a heavenly moment. I’m sorry I was not more mindful of your pleasure.”

“Are you looking for praise on your bed skills, or what is this about?”

“I simply wish you would have found your release as well. I lost sight of that.”

“It would be worth it to let you believe that and make you feel guilty for it, but…” The young Turk lifted himself a little so that Radu could see the shining, sticky proof of his pleasure on the mattress.

“You do enjoy toying with me, don’t you?” Moldova’s ruler asked with a smile as he pulled his beloved’s face toward him for yet another blissful kiss.

“I still want to know,” Bogdan said, before meeting his sovereign’s lips.

“No,” was the simple answer he received once their mouths parted.

“Why not? Why can’t you tell me why it was so important to choose this name for me? What does it mean?”

Radu smiled and, getting up, went over to the small basin to wash himself. The young captain kept him in his sight, admiring the muscled body and the confidence of his stride. He wondered how he could get his answer and have some fun at the same time. Watching the cleansing ritual and what the cold water was doing to the beautiful thing between his lover’s legs gave him the perfect idea.

“How cruel to treat it with such chillness,” he said and, going over to the basin, bent down on his knees and gently suckled on the soft flesh.

Radu shivered. “What are you doing?” he asked, swallowing the knot that was now in his throat.

“Warming you up,” came the simple reply.

Before he could protest, the king again found himself in the sweet captivity of his captain’s capable mouth. The sensation was amazing and Radu truly felt as if he had died and gone to Heaven. It was unreal to him that he could finally have this with the captor of his heart and mind, his very soul. Soon he felt he was ready to explode again and, finding support from the wall behind him, he used his hands to gently push his pleaser away.

“I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he said, and immediately all movement stopped, while dark eyes from below, both with a wicked gleam in them, shot right at him.

“But you do want to come, do you not?”

“Yes, but…” He could feel that it was a trap, but could not yet figure out what said trap was.

“Good,” Bogdan replied calmly while his hand started to stroke up and down the giant tool, until the irregular gasps let him know Radu was close. That is when he suddenly stopped.

“What the…?”

“Now, if you want release, M’lord, you will tell me what my name means.”

“You sneak!” Radu exclaimed, frustrated as his lover moved his hand farther away.

“What will it be? Shall we let this beautiful arousal go to waste or will you simply come clean as to why you chose to call me thus?”

“What makes you think I won’t bend you over right now and put my arousal to good use in ripping apart your adorable little ass?”

Bogdan got up and kissed his frustrated lover’s lips.

“You won’t do that because I will say no, and you would never force yourself on me. Now,” he continued while his hand again started to caress the pulsating cock, “why don’t you tell me and then allow me to make you oh so very happy?”

Radu tilted his head and asked, “All this time, why did you not just ask another?”

To which Bogdan replied, softly, “I wanted to hear it from your own lips.”

The King sighed and nodded. “It means…gifted by God,” he whispered, surprised that he had finally given away his personal secret. Immediately, Bogdan’s lips were on his while his hand moved rhythmically, squeezing until the warm seed spilled between them, dousing them both.

“Now then, was that so bad?” Bogdan teased, but the flash in the other man’s eyes made him take a step back.

“Not as bad as payment for what you did shall be.”

“I assure you that it has been paid for in advance.”

“Are you trying to escape retribution?” Radu asked with a smile, and pulled his lover back into his arms.

“I would not dream of it, M’lord.”

The Moldovians returned victorious to Putna, stopping at Neamt Monastery on their way to pray for those who had passed and to give thanks for the aid they had received in battle. The King also gave thanks for a very special gift.