By Uncle Abdul

At first I thought it was a joke, especially considering my rather reclusive lifestyle as a graduate student in literature. I received a pair of rather ugly Turkish slippers under my Christmas tree last year. They neither suited my feet (I'm somewhat ashamed at their daintiness, but they are in proportion to the slightness of my build) nor would any of my friends or relatives admit to sending them. Stranger still was a piece of paper -- parchment really -- which had a message written on it in a strange, ancient-looking script. It read:

I dismissed the incident as an unowned, elaborate practical joke, but a couple of months later in doing research for my thesis in a musty library, I found a volume discussing the legends and lore of the elven race. My eyes leapt to a photograph of a message reportedly written in Elvish. The photograph showed that it was the same script as on my mysterious Christmas note!

In the following months, I found other books and legends. One was particularly striking. It concerned an obscure tale of an elfin magician, Norden. By communing with some elven gods, he learned the secret of preparing the elixir of life. In return, Nordon had to manufacture and distribute once a year tribute gifts to the humans of Earth so that their wrath on the elvish race would somehow be prevented.

But, as humankind proliferated on the face of the land, Nordon's task became exceedingly great. Alas, it was to no avail. For, as their number increased, the humans wiped elvenkind from the land until but a handful remained. But Nordon still kept his bargain, and so lives even to this day (or so some texts say).

The texts continued that as humankind expanded in the early Christian era, across the lands of what is now known as Asia Minor, Nordon realized that the elvish race was doomed there. So he moved north -- far from the reaches of the merciless humans. On his journey, he tried to contact every elven outpost then existing. By trades, bargaining, and sometimes outright kidnapping, he collected elven boy children to accompany him to the northern wastes.

The story intrigued me. Certainly if he were collecting stock to keep alive the elven race in some remote, hidden outpost, he would of taken girls also. Why only boys?

I was reminded of Nicholas -- an early Christian bishop of Asia Minor -- noted for his generous gift-giving. Could this be a version of the Nordon legend sanitized by the Church in order to ingratiate Christianity with the people? Certainly the Church had done this with the other so-called "pagan" festivals and traditions. The yule log, the Christmas tree, even the date of Christmas itself were authorized substitutes for the now-deposed pagan events.

Only boys ... my body trembled slightly.

I tried to convince myself that these were legends, fictions, stories to amuse children. But my reason was challenged by those strange shoes and the bit of parchment which I had received last Christmas. In my hands they seemed to say, "Is that what you really believe?"

I had to know. I had to find out for myself. I couldn't explain it, but it somehow seemed that I would never be complete if I didn't. A bold plan emerged.On Christmas Eve, I found myself (still with some residual disbelief) hiding behind my divan which was in my parlor, next to the hearth. The stillness allowed me to hear the almost imperceptible sound of the falling snow outside. My Christmas tree was by the window opposite the divan. Gifts from relatives and friends were at the base of the tree. Milk and cookies -- a bit of silliness retained from my childhood -- were on a table by the tree.

Nearly ready to give up my ridiculous fantasy, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of clinker rattling down the chimney. For a long time after there was nothing. False alarm, I thought, but then more clinkers, snow, and a cloud of soot issued from the hearth. I held my breath. Thump! Something landed in the hearth! Boots? Much further rustling occurred, and in the dim light, I barely made out a figure clambering out, dragging a huge sack behind him. He then took a glowing coal out of the hearth and lit his pipe. I saw that he was a red-robed, squat, smallish man with a long white beard tinged with soot. He also wore black leather boots and a wide, black leather belt. After lighting his pipe, he commenced to pull out a wrapped package which he then placed under my tree. I couldn't be sure, but his facial features seemed not unkind.

Beside the tree burned a single candle on the table where I had placed the milk and cookies. With an appreciative sigh, he sat down to partake. My plan had worked! With his back to me, I silently crawled towards his sack. There was fortunately enough room in it for me. I was terribly frightened, but I plunged with determination into the sack's confines.

In the darkness, I was only aware of the warmth, the rapid beating of my heart, my not wanting to stir or make a sound, the packages around me, and the pervasive, heady scent of leather and soot. I waited. Then the draw cord of the sack slid closed. Then -- as if an earthquake had stuck -- I was turned upside down as the sack was slung over his shoulder. My brain was screaming at me, "this is madness! I hadn't asked for permission. Would I fit through the chimney? What would happen to me?" Just as I was about to scream, I was slammed hard to my side and pinned down.

Unable to move, I could only dream.I dreamed of when I was twelve, my parents left me in school over the Christmas holidays while they spent a fortnight on the continent. At school there were also three older boys and a bachelor schoolmaster similarly spending the holidays. We became good chums, and they introduced me to the joys of mansex. As I was the youngest, I became their pet -- their slave. My bottom became delightfully warmed by the belts of the older boys and of the schoolmaster. Often I was naked and in bondage, being birched or forced to service them with my mouth and anus. It was the happiest time of my life.

I especially remember being spread eagled to a bed, naked, in a chilly room, having my companions tease me by stroking my balls, my anus, and my rampantly hard cock. They wouldn't let me cum. I was helpless and at their mercy for my gratification. I could hear myself moan and felt the thrusting of my hips desperately in the air. I screamed, "Let me cum, you arses!"

I opened my eyes and instantly became frightened. I felt the desperation of a small animal in a cage. I found myself again naked and spread eagled on a bed. But I was not twelve years old. This was not school. I was in a log-walled room helplessly spread eagled on a crude bed covered with furs. There was warmth radiating from a fireplace, but I was still aware of the cold air around me. And my hard cock was begging for climax.

"No ... no ... this cannot be!" I thought to myself as my mind desperately raced to comprehend my situation. I only wanted to satisfy my curiosity. I didn't want this -- this -- being held a helpless slave. I started to cry, but I was aware that they were really tears at finding that for which I had so desperately longed.

I heard the door creak and saw, back lit by a brightly-lightly outer room, a small silhouette with distinctly pointed ears. A boy elf? The shadow turned and called, "He wakes, Master." Then turning back to me, he added in a noticeably deeper, lustful voice, "... and this human looks delicious." I at once felt frightened and ashamed. I wanted to cover my nakedness -- or at least the symbol of my excitement -- but I was helpless -- a helpless slave.

The door was now pushed full open. It was the figure I remembered from my parlor, but now menacingly silhouetted against the brighter light. This must be the great Nordon.As my eyes grew accustomed to the brighter light, Nordon came to my bedside. I trembled uncontrollably. I saw also tiny elven faces fill the doorway, many with smiles of lust on their faces. Though in reality Nordon was no taller than myself, in my helpless state he seemed to tower over me.

"Why did you come here, human?" he sternly intoned.

"P...p...please, great Nordon," I stammered, "I meant no harm. I simply had to know the truth of the legends about you."

Nordon drew furiously at his pipe. The glow from the bowl became brighter. This illuminated his face with an angry red light which made his features demonic. "In the popular idiom of your stolen human land, 'Wrong answer!'" Nordon took the pipe from his mouth, inverted it, and briefly touched the glowing ember therein to my left nipple. The swift, searing pain shot through my body. I screamed and jumped straight up from the bed -- my motion, however, being severely hampered by my restraints.

"Please, please believe me," I hoarsely whimpered as the "afterglow" of the burn stayed with me. It made my nipple extremely sensitive.

Without change in his commanding demeanor, and giving me no chance to rest, Nordon continued. "And why do you have THIS, human?" He pointed with his extended finger to my erect cock. "You've had it ever since you were found in my bag." Before I could answer, a spark arced from his finger to the point of my cock. It felt as if thousands of needles were attacking my cock and balls -- inside and out. He would not stop. I screamed, I sobbed, I begged him to stop. I begged him to make me cum. More than the pain of the spark, it was the pain of the shame -- the embarrassment of the forced discovery of long-hidden desires.

After what seemed like an eternity, he granted me rest. My body convulsed as I tearfully told him the full story -- the gift, the note, my search of the legend. I also told him of my experience at school and my longing to be once again a sex slave used by others. When I had finished, I turned my head away from him and wept. I felt him reach out his hand and stroke my face with a gentleness that even in my shame and tears felt caring, comforting, and approving. Nordon then left the room, closing the door to leave me cry myself to sleep in the darkness.

I do not know for how long I slept. I was awakened with the gentle shakings of two elven boys. I was still naked but no longer in restraints. A fur had covered me. I felt so peaceful, rested and comfortable that I almost did not want to stir. But I succumbed to their ministrations. They told me that they had to prepare me, and I obeyed. My arms were tightly bound behind me with leather thongs. A leather collar was securely placed around my neck. My stride was hobbled by leather ankle restraints. Though these boys were smaller than me, they were amazingly strong. And neither of them failed to fondle my privates once they had restrained me. I found their touch delightful and exciting, and they approved of my responses.

I was taken into the brightly lit outer room. It was of log construction, as was my chamber. But here, many rough-hewn workbenches and stools sat about. The workshop was delightfully cluttered with tools, shavings, partially-completed projects. It smelled wonderfully of sawdust, glues, and varnishes.

The boys led me to an assemblage at the end of the workshop. Presiding over the gathering was Nordon seated in a massive chair -- a throne really. Also blatantly prominent in the scene was a naked boy elf. He was vertically spread eagled upside-down from two strong posts. I was forced to my knees and made to bow to Nordon. I harbored a covert delight at this forced submission and humiliation. The boys in the assemblage cheered approvingly.

Nordon silenced them. He then announced to us that the helpless elf boy, Eldric, was the one who had sent me the note as a prank. Both Eldric and I were to be punished. I whimpered in protest, but was quickly dragged over to Eldric and, like him, was similarly bound to the posts facing him -- except for my being rightside-up. My mouth was near his cock and similarly his to mine. We were secured. No amount of straining could alter our state.

Nordon stepped behind Eldric with a whippy birch rod in his hand. I also sensed a similarly positioned and equipped older elf boy behind me. Nordon looked at us and spoke but one command: "Suck!"

I closed my eyes and started to lick and lick and suck my brother victim's cock. I also felt his warm, superb mouth on mine. As our pleasure and excitement grew, I heard the wissh-splatt! of the rod. Eldric's pelvis thrust forward, driving his cock deeper into my mouth. Before I could think, I too was struck, producing the same results. By knowledgeable timing and stroke placement, Eldric's and my passion, excitement, and cocks grew. The birching produced a growing heat in my ass which spread to my groin and genitals. It soon seemed to me that my only purpose in my life was to suck my fellow slave's cock to return the pleasure he was giving me and to offset the delightful burning stings of the birch. Eldric then came in my mouth and I swallowed it greedily. I soon returned him the favor with such a forceful orgasm and eruption. I was being sucked into an eternal sea of male mouths forever.

Our whipping finally stopped. Both of us hung limp from the posts. We were both bathed in sweat and satisfaction. We were finally released and taken into the arms of the other boys. They warmly stroked us, kissed us and caressed us. Nordon came to me with a radiant smile on his face. He gently stroked my head and announced to all, "This human is now one of us. As he has tasted our seed, so has the elixir of eternal life which courses through us been given to him. We welcome you to our clan to the end of time."I cried with happiness and kissed all those about me. Never have I felt so happy and accepted -- even in my human world. I was to be the part of an eternal order in a modality about which before I could only fantasize.

My life is now busy, but fulfilled. We work long hours crafting the gifts needed by Nordon for his annual tithe. And with the same intensity we give to our work, so do we throw ourselves into our passions. Nordon is our master and he uses us for our pleasure. I think I have become his slight favorite -- possibly because of my race. I know this will not last, but I am willing to take on the joyous task for a couple of centuries or so. And this includes my share of bondage, tortures, and serving him and my brothers in naked humiliation. But now I feel complete and happy.

I hope you too will find your dreams, your happiness. And thus I wish you Happy Holidays.

© COPYRIGHT by Uncle Abdul December, 2001. All rights are strictly reserved. No copies--paper, electronic, magnetic, optical, or through other means--shall be permitted except by direct, written authorization of the copyright holder.

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