“Ah, you have chosen wisely, I think, Lao Jen. So it will be.”
While speaking, Qin Shih Huang unbuckled his belt and let his belt and sword fall—into the hands of Li Yuan, who dove for it, lest it hit the ground, although he had to sink to his knees to prevent it from doing so.
“Captain, the handsome one. The one with the curious eye. The ceremony of reclaimed suzerainty of the fallen enemy. Now!”
The captain motioned to the two heftiest of his men guarding the captives, who pulled the third son up and away from his wounded brother. As they stripped the struggling captive, the remaining guards manhandled the father and eldest son into submission, holding them firmly but facing the altar.
At the captain’s command, the two cavalrymen, one at each arm of the young prince of Chou, pulled his naked body around to the side of the altar facing Qin Shih Huang and held him down, facing away from Qin Shih Huang, belly flat on altar and face turned to his still-struggling and cursing elder brother and father.
Qin Shih Huang let his battle robe fall open to reveal his magnificent body and perhaps the longest and thickest hardened phallus in the realm. As he approached the hind quarters of the young prince of Chou, two other cavalrymen sprang forth to spread the young man’s legs and to pull his buttocks cheeks away to reveal a pulsating rosebud of an anus.
With a cry of triumph and uttering the sacred creeds of the House of Qin, Qin Shih Huang strode up to and between the Chou prince’s spread legs, positioned his bulging cock cap at the young man’s hole with a steady hand, and then thrust hard and deep inside him.
The young prince of Chou cried out in pain and violation and writhed, chest heaving and panting, face contorted in the taking, while Qin Shih Huang thrust in deep, searching motions inside him, seeking the resting of his heavy, quivering balls on top of his younger conquest’s.
As Qin Shih Huang stroked, symbolically forging his renewed mastery over the House of Chou as well as enjoying himself immensely, the young prince slowly fell under the master taker’s spell as well—so that before long, not long before he gave up his own seed against the vermillion flanks of the sacred Chou family altar, the young prince was crying out for more and moving with the taking rather than against it.
If anything, this infuriated and demoralized the elder men of the House of Chou more than if their younger member had been cut up into quarters on the altar. They knew the rituals of the House of Qin. They knew that the new Lord of Anyi had now been chosen and, having been brought under the control of Qin Shih Huang in both body and soul, would be trained to rule a rebuilt Anyi to his dictate. And, to the shame of the House of Chou, they now could see that he would do so willingly and as the catamite of the evil emperor-to-be.
It was almost in relief and preference that, after Qin Shih Huang had spilled his possessing seed deep inside the new lord of Anyi, that Chou Xin Li and his remaining sons were led out, through the ranks of the pale and sweating hostages, onto the steps of the temple, overlooking the dying city below them, to meet their public appointment with the avenging sword.
If it was a slight that, after Li Yuan had prostrated himself beside Qin Shih Huang’s awaiting stallion again, the new Lord of Anyi, sore but sporting a lopsided grin, was placed on a horse only one stride behind the master and two in front of Li Yuan, the old man made no sign of it.
Later that night, in the tent of the master of Qin on the banks of the Huang Ho, Li Yuan stood in attendance of Qin Shih Huang’s every whim in the shadows as the new Lord of Anyi, in diaphanous leggings and burnished bared torso, danced to the tune of the lute and thin, pitch-perfect voice of the singsong girls. The young man was well made. Lithe but well-muscled. He obviously was clever and good with sword play, having survived the battle unscathed, and he evidenced this with the sensuousness of his movement to the music.
Li Yuan had to stand there and watch as the heir to the house of Chou danced closer and closer to Qin Shih Huang, who was propped up on pillows in the light of the lamps at the four corners of the central area of the tent marked by the maroon carpet intricately woven in the golds and blues of the House of Qin. Qin Shih Huang was draped in a robe of gold thread, but he was reclining on the pillows and his robe had fallen open, revealing a sword of prodigious length and width curving up from his belly and bobbing with the rhythm of the young man’s dance. There was no doubt that he found his young captive enticing.
And for his part, the new Lord of Anyi was entranced. He had been taken with the master sword once, his first sheathing, and he could not take his eyes off it as he danced. He could not wait to be pierced with it again and again.
The young man was on his knees on the lush carpet now, between Qin Shih Huang’s spread legs, his torso undulating, but dipping ever lower. Until at last his lips were at the bobbing bulb of Qin Shih Huang’s manhood—and opening over the bulb, and taking it inside his mouth, and sucking it close.
Qin Shih Huang looked up into the shadows at where he knew Li Yuan stood in ever-ready service. He snapped his fingers and said, “Only you.”
“Yes, Master,” Li Yuan responded. Then he turned in either direction, motioning the vigilant, yet studiously blind guards and the singsong girls out of the tent. They immediately left in graceful silence.
Li Yuan remained, watching, as the young prince heated up the master, making him moan and sigh at the young captive’s attentions in a way that none but Li Yuan was permitted to observe or hear. No hint of weakness would be permitted.
At length, Qin Shih Huang pulled the young lord’s face from his cock and reached down at his belly and ripped away the diaphanous material. He then lifted the young man—not any younger than Qin Shih Huang himself, really, but not nearly as strong and massive—and set him firmly and cruelly down on his club of a cock. The young lord cried out in pain as he had done before, only once before having been taken and not prepared in any way, but writhe as he unwilling did—as he clearly wanted to be taken again—he was able to give no answer to Qin Shih Huang merely raising him and lowering him ever farther down the blade of the piercing sword with strong hands gripping his waist.
Qin Shih Huang fucked on forever—long after the young lord had spouted his own seed up Qin Shih Huang’s hard, muscled belly.
Nearly exhausted, the young lord whimpered in thanksgiving when Qin Shih Huang lifted him off his bludgeon and let him fall over to the side. The young man started to slither away, across the rug, but he should have known that Qin Shih Huang was only toying with him; the master’s cock was as hard and thick and long as it ever had been.
The young lord squeaked in shock and fear and trembling, as Qin Shih Huang came up on his knees and grabbed the young man around the waist again and held him there, belly to carpet, as Qin Shih Huang encased the young lord’s thighs between his knees and thrust down inside him again and rode him and rode him and rode him.