A gay sex stories: Yes – Master
The anger and determination of Qin Shih Huang was almost palpable as he unleashed his cavalry, war chariots, and bronze and iron weapons—all battlefield levelers that his enemies had never before encountered—on the rebel town of Anyi. Within hours of receiving the message that the Lord of Anyi would not send tribute and yield in the season of homage, Qin Shih Huang, his loyal servant and chamberlain, Li Yuan, riding three strides to his rear, galloped out of Xian at the head of his cavalry and war chariots. That the forces of Anyi put up a stout defense at the imperial army’s crossing of the Huang Ho, the Yellow River, only added to Qin Shih Huang’s indignation and anger.
The Chou of Anyi would need to be taught a lesson that none of the other vassals to Qin Shih Huang’s building empire would forget for the ages.
Once across the Huang Ho, and sweeping the army of Anyi aside like a spring insect, the forces of Qin Shih Huang descended on the city of Anyi, attacking from four directions, the foot infantry from the southwest, double-horsed chariots from the northwest and southeast, and Qin at the head of his vaunted cavalry from the northeast, where Chou Xin Yi had planned a retreat, if that proved necessary, into the hills of Shanxi.
Qin Shih Huang wanted to seize the seasoned men of the ruling family of Chou alive and thus had taken command of the rising hills that his spies within Anyi had told him the family of the Lord of Anyi would attempt to flee into if the battle went against them.
Qin had put out the order that Anyi was to be leveled and all within it put to the sword as a warning to any others thinking of holding out on Qin Shih Huang’s drive to unify the Chinese empire. But he had given strict orders that Chou Xin Yi and any sons not killed in battle were to be captured alive and delivered to him at the temple of the dragon atop Taiyuan Shan, the most sacred place of the Chou.
And so it was.
By design, Qin Shih had ridden out with the hostages being held to ensure the loyalty of every other vassal lord. He wanted them to see what happened to those who rebelled. As Qin Shi Huang cruelly spurred his battle stallion, panting and foaming at the mouth from five hours of fast gallop and three hours of close-in combat, up the slope toward the Taiyuan Shan temple, he turned and scowled at Li Yuan, who had fallen five strides behind him.
“Keep up, Lao Jen—old man—or . . .”
“Shih, Chu Jen—Yes, Master,” Li Yuan, cried out between blistered and trembling lips. Twenty years the young and strapping ruler’s senior, Li Yuan was beyond the days of the warrior. And yet, he had been in the thick of the battle, being everywhere he needed to be to ensure his lord and Chu Jen would not be blindsided in the thick of battle. He had covered his young master like a cloak of invincibility, as if the first sign of weakness would be the end for Li Yuan himself.
Li Yuan was panting and ragged of breath as they reached the summit. But he was only the required three strides behind his master—close enough to throw himself from his steed at the moment of realization that Qin Shih Huang wanted to dismount and to fling his body prostate, in the mud at the side of Qin Shih Huang’s stallion, in time to provide the necessary stepping stone for his master’s dismount.
Qin Shih Huang trampled heavily and with muddied hide-covered boots on his chamberlain’s back as he dismounted and strode into the temple, with Li Yuan scrambling to take up the required three paces in his wake, followed closely behind by the quivering hostages of the other lands Qin Shih Huang held in sway.
The cavalry outriders who had captured and brought Chou Xin Yi and his four surviving sons to the temple stood guard around the five cowering prisoners. They had been beaten, but, with the exception of Chou Xin Yi himself, who was bleeding profusely and whose right arm had almost been severed in battle, three of the four men of the House of Chou were alive enough. Chou Xin Yi stood, defiant alongside his eldest son, who glowered at Qin Shih Huang menacingly as the conqueror strode into the temple’s central chamber. The room they occupied was a stone vaulted-ceiling space adorned only by a vermillion-painted altar standing in the very center under an open sky light, which cast the rays of the noonday sun directly down on the Chou’s ceremonial sacred heart, it’s ancestral altar. Chou Xin Yi’s youngest surviving son, merely a boy, whimpered slightly, no doubt at the sounds of carnage and sight of the rising smoke from the doomed city of Anyi below the mountain slope, but his sobs subsided at a sharp look from his father’s eyes. The two middle sons clung to each other as they huddled on the floor, but the difference between them was noticeable, One son, a sword gash laying open a wound on his forehead, had his eyes closed and his face buried into the bosom of the other son, who, blood-covered but largely unmarked himself, looked out at the approaching Qin Shih Huang more in curiosity than anything else.
“Has the Lord of Anyi agreed to yield?” Qin Shih Huang bellowed. Everyone in the confines of the temple shuddered noticeably at the master’s declaration, even Chou Xin Yi. Barely into his manhood, Qin Shih Huang was a magnificent figure, perfectly formed, heavily muscled, astonishingly handsome, and carrying himself with grace and supreme confidence as the unifier of empires that he was becoming through his own determination and talent—and on the strength of his modern weaponry.
“Chu Jen . . .” the captain of the cavalry began in a voice edged with fear and dread. He could neither lie nor tell the truth. Chou Xin Yi had turned to stone in his recalcitrance. The cavalry officer knew that anything he said at this point was sure to bring down the wrath of his master.
Qin Shih Huang saved him the indignity. The cavalry captain was a good soldier. Qin Shih Huang could not spare him.
“No matter,” he said with a sneer. “Once disloyal is one time too many. The Lord of Anyi is no more. I must have a new lord. One of the sons must do. But which one? And all must know of his suzerainty to me.” At the mouthing of the word “all,” Qin Shih Huang let his gaze cover all of those gathered, ensuring that the “representatives” of the other vassal lords were fully aware of the gravity and symbolism of what was about to happen.
Qin Shih Huang snapped his finger, and his faithful drudge, Li Yuan, bent almost double and eyes firmly planted on the ground, stepped up into Qin Shih Huang’s peripheral vision. “Yes, Master?”
“You know what I require.”
“Yes, Master,” Li Yuan responded. “Not the eldest; he is as unmalleable as the father. He would rebel again as soon as we recrossed the Huang Ho. And not the youngest; he belongs with the women.” At this, a gasp escaped the gathering of hostages standing at the edge of the temple behind Qin Shih Huang. All knew that the women of the House of Chou had already been dispatched.
“Of the two remaining,” Li Yuan continued in a hesitant voice, “one will die anyway of that festering wound. The remaining one looks out at the world with curiosity, even in present circumstances. He may be trainable.”