SIGFRID AVRO STORY  PART 3

( TOLD IN THE OASIS OF ISFAHAN)

 

sir Sigfrid Avro from Red Rock Oasis

 A long journey began on the winding course of the Cartius...

The young blond teenager struggled, but nothing helped and the taluna took great pleasure in caressing him regularly, as if she had obtained a small animal that she obediently came to tame with caresses, but also sometimes real blows, because yes, the young man rebelled , many times, he tried to capsize her! He got there once! But they were almost there, reaching Lake Shaba. oh she was furious and got back into the boat soaking wet while he laughed with satisfaction.

They disembarked. The talunas untied his feet to hoist him out of the boat, several to bring him as a captive to the camp. A strange maneuver was taking place when they were noticed by the other talunas of the tribe, they came forward, they came simpering around him, came to caress him as he passed, came to feel his muscles, but not only... as if they were sizing him up and appreciating his beauty, his virility.

Sig really had this feeling of becoming, a lust, an object of desire, like a kind of prey or fodder. It was at that moment that he understood how obvious it must not have been for slaves, when they had to be bought or that their destiny was going to be linked to the hands of a person, much more powerful than them. . The talunas could dominate him and take possession of his body, tied up like this and given their number... The teenager felt the atmosphere become charged, murmurs amplified, some talunas even jostled to touch him, but really everywhere... everything happened ...

Sig was quickly taken to a hut to which access was prohibited. Authorized women came to undress him completely and wash him without untying his arms, which were still stuck behind his back. And there too, everything happened. He was oiled everywhere. It was decorated with artifices to mark the muscles of his arms and legs, with an artistic skin tied around his penis and with some tribal paintings on his shoulders, his face, his abdomen, his obliques.

The life of the tribe was getting organized, as if an event was in progress, the women were in turmoil. Lots of carved wooden dishes were prepared and decorated with generous quantities of vulos, suls, roots, vegetables, honey and spices, fruits in abundance. They all seemed in a very good mood and many remained gazing up at the sky, sometimes pointing towards it in the evening.

At nightfall, the young blond was taken to a campfire where he was given food straight from his fingers. He was fearful and very observant, he saw the women eating profusely, laughing, singing, dancing in groups around the fire to the sound of drums, like a sort of ceremony.

He was placed a little aside near the chiefs of the tribe, including the taluna he hated the most in the world, the one who had achieved his ends. She kept leering at him with a little smile of satisfaction and sadism, without explaining to him what was going to happen.

That night, he discovered it quite quickly... When the three moons rose in the sky and were full, they took him tied up in a procession. So the whole tribe headed towards a clearing, full of moss, grass and ferns. At its center was a thick, cylindrical wooden post. buried deep in the ground.

Sig was then tied to it, his ankles and wrists tied to the back of the post, his back pressed against the thick wood, the makeshift collar, which had been placed around his neck, was tied firmly by the back of his neck flush with it. post. He realized that anything could happen to him, his exposed and raised face witnessed every scene. We could have gutted him and he wouldn't have been able to do anything, but these women had other plans.

As the ehns passed, the women danced with their hands raised to the sky. Between songs and moans which sometimes transformed into lamentation, they rolled in the moss here and there in front of him. Near him, the clan leaders came to caress his thighs and torso, including the one he hated, as if they were taking him into their spell of tantric trance.

the hands imprisoned him with their incessant and solicitous caresses until he could no longer keep control of himself, he felt the lips on his skin and not only that... he couldn't do anything, if that. He tensed his muscles to try to play on his leaps, but nothing worked. His fate was sealed.

The pretty blond with green eyes went from teenager to young adult, becoming prey to their desires, the straps of the art skin were removed when he was cramped. Then a tireless dance began against his body. That night, the young man discovered lust, forced and repeated pleasure. The women took turns on his erect manhood many times, some could access it, others were not allowed, he could only moan and sigh under this orgasmic torture, this form of tribal orgy marked him forever. .. For ahns and ahns, they exhausted him until he could take no more.

In the days that followed, Sig stayed to regain his strength in the hut. stiff and in a loathsome mood, he pushed back the slopes that approached him. Sig was convinced he had to flee this place, whatever the cost. So he softened little by little. they had to let their guard down. he had to coax them. he integrated into camp life. week after week... they watched him with less vigilance, did small manual jobs for him such as butchering, collecting wood, repairing the huts. They no longer took the trouble to connect his collar to a rope, like a small animal.

However, Sig was starting to receive more and more stares, he felt like he was once again in the crosshairs of some talunas who had never been able to touch him. One evening as he was bringing back wood, near a hut, he overheard a disturbing discussion on the cycle of the moons and certain talunas? Ah! He didn't need more to understand the meaning of it all! he had to flee!

To take action and not relive the madness of the three moons, he had to manage to isolate a boat and camouflage it further on the bank and, at the first opportunity given to him, he would leave the camp to take the powder escape.

And this moment arrived three days later, when huntresses returned from fishing on Lake Shaba, they entrusted him with the task of tying up the boats, he took advantage of this opportunity to isolate a small one with an oar, When he returned to camp, he told them that he had tied one incorrectly and that it had just been carried away by the current.

For greater realism, he had run into the mud of the bank to make it appear that he had tried as best he could to recover it. So obviously, you can imagine, he was punished and beaten. But after all, what mattered the whip and the blows, when he was asked to go find a tree in the forest to cut down, to cut down one, not one, not two, he saw his chance!

Instead of going to look for a tree, he took some provisions and water in Bota from a knotted rep, stealing a fur cape and he set off in the direction of his small boat which was still there, under some branches, at out of sight.

It was then that a difficult journey began to go up the current of the Cartius, up to Kasra, and now it is certain that Sigfrid has a horror of boats! *he laughs* He couldn't stop rowing. Sometimes he came ashore to eat, so as not to move backwards in the current. But he would quickly run out of food and water. Yet, clinging to life as never before, he drew unknown forces into himself, the echo of his past guided this rage. He knew that this time, he was expected and he knew that his parents would be frantic with worry... If they knew... Well, now... they know. *smile*

Arriving on the distant shores of Kasra, Sig reached the shore, he encountered too many merchant ships. He fell asleep for almost a whole day under wild bushes. Not far from there, peasants lived on the little fertile land that bordered the banks of the Cartius. When night fell, he went to drink from the animals' trough, he filled his bota. But he was only frightening, emaciated, marked with the whip and above all, the old rusty collar of the talunas around his neck, who was going to believe him to be free? Especially if he said he was a son of Pasha, we would also consider him crazy!

He decided to commit an outrage. He memorized the house in his memory, he stole a kaiila, promising himself to bring it back when he was out of trouble. And he left on the caravan route, in the direction of Tor and then found the road towards Klima. He intended to bring the animal back, unaware that his bad luck was pursuing him, and that his lucky star would still have to work hard.

once arrived, at the edge of Tor, he plunged towards the deep desert, he was not to be seen. Struggling with hunger, time was running out. Having only water to hold it together. He pushed the kaiila to its vital limits. They were surprised by a storm, the animal struggled more and more. Once out of this storm, he no longer recognized the dunes. The wind could change the desert in a night, Sigfrid saw the distant mirage of a city, and it was with despair that he launched the animal in that direction, exhausted, under the crushing sun of the 'afternoon.

Alas... The kaiila stopped and staggered in its last moments. The animal fell and the blond with it. He rolled down the side of a dune... he let a trail of sand rise... Unconscious, were the shock of the fall, hunger, thirst going to get the better of him? The last ahns of a dry day passed without him regaining consciousness... But then my star... what were you waiting for? Because yes, rest assured: his star is always watching. You will soon find out in the next part…