Live and Let Live

The human struggled in his binds, trying to break the rope tied around his wrists and around a thick wooden spear impaled into the ground. Sweat dripped over his naked frame as the cool night air kissed his tan skin. His muscles flexed as he moved, the toned canyons and valleys tensing and relaxing as he tried to break free.

A fine looking black hair trailed down his chest, abs, and crotch which glimmered in the moonlight that reflected off his body. Torches were lit all around him, the light illuminating the area and letting the human see the predicament he was in. Several beasts stood surrounding him in a circle of sorts on two legs, their bull-like appearance sending a strange recognizable fear, but curiosity.

They seemed to be just as curious about him, watching him squirm in his predicament. They each were different in size and stature, but looked healthy and comfortable. Some were brimming with masculinity, reeking of it off of their black, brown, and white fur. The human could tell which ones were the alphas of the group by the way they stood and remained silent, watching him with a hungry gaze in their eyes.

The younger ones were chatty, giggling amongst themselves as they pointed and gawked at the older, mature males. What stood out to the human was their body art; everything from the expressive piercing down to different dyes and paints that covered their furs in intricate patterns. Some had piercings looped around their nipples while others had rings wrapped around one or each horn. They seemed to be content with their barely covered bodies, each of their loincloths barely leaving anything to the imagination. The bull that was closest to the human seemed to be wearing the most; a ceremonial looking garb that covered his lower body only a tiny bit modestly then the others, but had a lively body paint that combined a sequence of different colors.

Scanning the environment, the human's blue eyes fell upon curious looking tents that had several different ornaments that clinked in the wind. The tents were not crude by any means, but seemed to be simple enough that they could be torn down and moved if need be. Some of the people stepped out of their tents to watch the spectacle that was going on, interest scrawled across their face.

The human could only describe the situation he was in as something primal and a celebration of some kind. He could only guess that the men that ransacked his master's caravan and captured him were a tribe of bull-people; minotaurs from the North making the transition to the Southern caverns to avoid the harsh bite of winter. The caravan was simply in their path. Being a hired arm to keep bandits away, the human was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time and the next thing he knew, he was being led away in bondage.

Feeling a shiver down his spine as he felt the cool night air kiss his most sensitive parts, he hoped that his fellow brothers he traveled with did not receive the same fate as he did. He still remembered the warriors that surrounded him before pinning him to the ground and restraining him. He then remembered the strange chemical they blew into his face to knock him unconscious, the sweet scent still on his mind.

Hearing the hushed whispers between the different tribesmen, the human began to train his ears on the deep basses coming from the beast men. He knew that very few minotaurs born outside of the city learned the intricacies associated with the common rhetoric, but some managed to integrate themselves fully into modern society. In fact, his blacksmith that crafted his first sword was a stocky bull.

He was also his first love.

As the man's eyes fell upon the soft lips of the different men, his mind fell onto nostalgic memories. He could smell the scent of cooling metal as it was dipped into chilled mountain water and hear the tinging of a hammer as it clanged against steel. He remembered being pushed against the anvil, strong hands holding him gently as lips connected with his. He could still remember the hand caressing his face, the warm palm pressed flesh against his cheek and...

Opening his eyes, the human noticed the robed minotaur was stroking the exact same spot, a grin across his face as he spread his fingers and felt the soft skin gently before cupping his chin. Feeling a warmth across his cheeks, the human felt himself go stiff as the dark brown eyes looked into his. Leaning forward, the minotaur said in a deep booming voice, "What is your name, warrior?"

A look of shock flew over the human's face as he watched the minotaur's mouth stop moving. He remembered the stories of the different tribes his first love told him as he held him in arms in an instant, the explanation of how the blacksmith learned English from some of the most wisest and cunning among the tribesman. He felt a strange bit of respect move over him when he realized he was among one of the highest regarded members of the tribe; the shaman.

Gulping, as the hand began to trail lower over his neck, the restrained male said, "My name is Lucas. Why do you have me like this?"

Feeling the shaman's other hand trail over his and grasp it soothing, the shaman rubbed his thumb across the back of Lucas's hand and chuckled saying, "So naive of our ways...so ignorant of what is in store for you."

Forming into an irritated scowl at the taunting answer, Lucas said, "I have no time for some stupid game! Release me, now!"

Recognizing the words as hostile, the shaman began to trace his fingers along Lucas's spine. Giving a tremble in response at the gentle touch, the shaman replied, "No, the gods have blessed us with your presence. It would be a pity to deny them and you play a larger role in their plot then you think, warrior. We require a blessing from them, and you are going to play that role, buicha."

The last word sent another quiver down Lucas's spine. It was in the minotaur language. Although he was not familiar with the word, some of the males around the shaman become attentive quickly with ominous smiles across their face. The scarred alpha males looked at Lucas with the same desire in their eyes, watching his body like a hawk watches prey before it strikes.

"What if I told you your gods made some kind of error? What if fate has brought me to the wrong place?" Lucas argued as he struggled against his bondage, sweat starting to roll off of his body and drip onto the floor. "You barbarians attacked our caravan and carried me off," Lucas continued as the shaman began to get touchier, his fingers trailing lower over his chest and abs. "I had no say in this matter."

"So the gods willed it and much was done in preparation for this day," the shaman said as his fingers felt the muscles twitch and flex as he worked over Lucas's naked body, taking note at the spots that made the human tremble like a leaf. Noticing the worried anger still sketched across Lucas's face, the minotaur said, "What troubles you if the divines themselves have brought you to us?"

"You killed my companions," Lucas growled through clenched teeth. "They were innocent and you slaughtered them like sheep." Still hearing their screams of horror as the caravan was swarmed, Lucas felt his patience starting to dwindle.

"You did not see our compassion, fool," the shaman answered back as his fingers drummed along Lucas's treasure trail. "You did not witness your own brethren trading your capture for their escape with their profits. You were too busy defending yourself from our own fine warrior's blows to hear them beg for their own life like worthless animals."

Shaking a bit as the shaman's words cut him like a knife, Lucas shook his head and retorted, "You're lying! My fellow bodyguards would not gave me up like that!" Remembering of how he sat around the fire with his boss and other guards, Lucas recalled sharing jokes, fascinating stories, and having a merriment filled time drinking and laughing. He remembered his employer's wife and how she would give him the most subtle of winks towards him, giggling when he would become shy. The several nights that he spent among the merchants and warriors seemed like the life Lucas could get used to living and after a few weeks of back and forth traveling, Lucas felt like he belonged with the band.

Pulling out a beautiful ornate dagger from his side, the shaman held it up in the torchlight. A slight glimmer of light flicked off the end of the trim on the handle and the polished silver of the blade had many ornate patterns that cut through the metal in fine patterns. Many of the minotaurs around the shaman ogled the pristine metalwork, their attention captured by the craftsmanship. Lucas recognized it instantly; it was the same dagger that was part of their cargo into the Great Planes to sell to the gypsies.

"They paid us extra for the transaction because they were so grateful we spared their weak lives," the shaman taunted with a sinister smile as he watched Lucas's confusion turn into disbelief. "You, on the other hand, were the one fighting bravely and with valor against some of our strongest fighters. You are a magnificent specimen, human and a worthy person to participate in our celebrations for victory."

Stunned, Lucas dropped his gaze from the dagger, letting it sink in on how badly he was betrayed by his own people. He felt ill as the shaman began to massage the human's thighs teasingly. However, he also felt the anger sweeping away with every touch that the shaman applied to his most private of areas. His thoughts started to calm as he took in the situation and Lucas felt the familiar sensation of breath on his neck as the shaman leaned close.

Giving a huff as his hand got tantalizingly close to Lucas's manhood, the minotaur said, "And you call us the 'savages' when you fight just as much among your own. Your own brothers and sisters stabbed you in your back, Lucas. The gods have put you here to have our people celebrate your transition to a new life that will honor, respect, and value your bravery."

Clutching Lucas's chin, the shaman pulled the human's eyes to meet with his. The humans were a mixture of curiosity and confusion which pulled the shaman's mouth into a smile that sent a cold feeling down the human's spine. Fear began to creep onto Lucas as he stared into the Shaman's eyes.

"What are you going to do with me?" He wanted to sound strong and brave, but his voice began to tremble now.

Giving a small tsk, the Shaman said, "Nothing you will not enjoy in the end. You will be born once again a stronger, virile, and changed male." Beckoning a large looking figure forward, the Shaman stepped out of the way to allow a minotaur that towered over both the Shaman and Lucas. His chocolate brown fur glistened in the moonlight as he made his way forward, his eyes watching Lucas closely with a gaze that was sizing the other male up.

His eyes were a deep blue that reminded the human of the ocean, and his golden nose ring jingled with every step. The way the minotaur walked was one that brimmed with confidence and swagger. His body was built like a fortress, his muscles providing defense from any attacker that would be foolish enough to try to ambush him. Scars grazed his chest and face, showing off his exploits in combat. As he walked up to Lucas, he stared face to face with the human, so close that his warm breath grazed his face as he towered over him.

Turning towards the crowd that began to hush and watch silently, the Shaman shouted something in a language that Lucas did not understand. It was deep and rich, an old, ancient sound to it. The rich tones vibrated his ear drums as the Shaman raised his hands towards the stars that glistened overhead as if in celebration. The male standing in front of Lucas still stared down at the human, his muscles flexing menacingly as he reached a hand forward to feel the soft skin of the human's hand underneath his own broader palm.

His touch was cold, making Lucas shy away from it. He couldn't really get far as he was tied to the pole, his wrists straining as he shifted in his bondage. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Cocking his head, the minotaur smiled somewhat sinisterly as he watched the human struggle. Trailing his hand lower, he brought it onto the human's face, feeling the different curves. The most pleasing to the minotaur were the human's cheeks and nose, his right hand trailing over the unfamiliar structures. Lucas could smell the scent of dirt on the minotaur's hands mixed with leather and sweat. The scent was masculine, and almost pleasant. The scent reminded him of the days he spent training to hone his sword skills back at the village, his mind starting to think back to older days as the alpha's hands trailed lower over his chin and neck.

Lucas got himself a good look on the minotaur's face and for a brief moment, their eyes met. Something about the minotaur felt familiar to him, like he had met him before. It only took a few seconds for the memory to resurface to the forefront of his mind. "It's you..." he mumbled to himself. "You're the one that I fought," he said to the minotaur, whom he doubt understood what he was saying.

As if attempting to piece together what the human said, the minotaur bowed, his horns mere inches from Lucas's face. Each horn had a silver ring on each, intricate patterns carved into them. Lucas remembered the parry that the minotaur performed, knocking him off his feet before pinning him. His hands, in response, trailed lower as if finding more confidence to begin trailing along Lucas's chest and arms, feeling the muscles grow taunt before relaxing.

All the handling and touchiness Lucas had been subjected to eventually evoke a physical response from him. Whether he liked it or not, his body began responding from the rather sensual touches he was getting, with his cock being a clear sign of it. Blood began to flow to his loins, making him curse inwardly. To Lucas, now was not the right time to be getting an erection. He desperately tried to think of something else; something that would stop his arousal from growing, but as if having a mind of its own, his cock was soon standing in perfect attention, pointing right in front of his warden, the minotaur.

Grinning as he continued his touching, the warrior began to grow more confident, stroking Lucas's thighs and pinching the human's soft nipples. The Shaman that stood before the crowd was silent like them, watching the spectacle unfold. Some of the people watching were blushing, others openly gawking at what was happening in front of them. The older people around had knowing smirks across their faces as they watched their brethren explore the human in front of him with interest.

If Lucas wasn't hard before, he was hard now. He was weak against nipple pinching and the minotaur was exploiting him completely. He bit his lips, trying to stifle a moan to escape his mouth. If the minotaur's goal was to arouse him, then he was definitely pressing all the right buttons on him as the human's cock was now beginning to leak amounts of pre that dripped down his legs.

"W-what...are you doing to me...? S-top at once!" he said outright, blushing completely. Lucas's embarrassment at being the target of more intimate attention was starting to get to him. A few tribesman began to shuffle closer, some visibly aroused through their loincloths. The Shaman continued to watch with his unyielding gaze, making sure the ceremony was going smoothly. Moving forward as quick as wind, the Shaman stood by the warrior, guiding his hands across the human's skin as he watched Lucas's expression close.

Leaning forward, the Shaman whispered into Lucas's ear, "This warrior is one alpha among our people. He is a powerful male that you had the pleasure to have fought with. Since you lost, you will submit yourself to him. In doing so, you will make yourself stronger, your weaknesses polishing into strengths. His essence will merge with your own and the assorted people will watch to honor this ceremony." A small smile crossed the Shaman's lips as the warrior gave a snort to blow hot breath into the human's face. "His name is Darut. You will know it well by the time this night is over."

"Essence? Merge? Submit myself?" Questions began popping into Lucas's mind and red flags were raising everywhere. "Do I have say in all of this?" he asked looking at Darut who was looking back at him with an unfathomable expression.

He gulped, having a sinking feeling as to where all of this was headed, especially with the way all the other tribesmen were groping themselves. The Shaman stroked Darut's back, his hand falling lower until it was over the minotaur's backside which was hidden inside his thick loincloth. The rings that were on either side of the waistband jingled as the Shaman used his other hand to stick a finger in one of the rungs.

"A say? The gods had a say in this matter, and they have put you here. Like I said before, you were born to come here, and accept this gift we are going to give you. Relax, and enjoy yourself, human. Relinquish yourself to those desires held inside you for so long, and display them for this fine warrior. He will take them, mold them, and more," the Shaman seductively pulled hard on the ring to break one of two.

The loincloth fell to the side, unveiling part of the minotaur's left thigh and cheek. Darut did not seem to mind; still groping the human where he pleased, rubbing along his thighs and tantalizingly close to Lucas's manhood.

As Darut's left cheek was exposed, the Shaman reached down and squeezed it to feel the mound of muscle flex underneath his hand as Darut thrust forward somewhat involuntarily to rub his bulge against the human's exposed member. The audience's breathing was now becoming heavier, and Lucas could hear some beginning to pant in lustful need as they watched the display. Others were touching themselves, or one another, while exploring their own passions unabashedly.

Some had even began to free themselves from their clothing and were now standing naked as can be and openly stroking themselves to the show they were getting, their loincloths around their ankles with glazed looks of desire. Lucas' attention was brought back to Darut however as his cock rubbed up against the minotaur's own.

His own self-control was breaking and a lustful moan escaped his lips. The event reminded him of his first lover, his gentle gropes, and massaging making him aroused as he was pushed against the anvil and kissed passionately. Now, however, it was a bit more anonymous. Some of the older ones were still watching Lucas with deep curiosity still, but even they had tents in their loincloths.

"Give in, Lucas. Forget about your companions; we will fill those holes now. Forget about your previous life, and let your primal emotions surface," the Shaman said as he reached forward, and wrapped his hand around Lucas's stiff erection. He gave a few teasing strokes before placing a finger on the head, and felt the drip of pre on his fingers. He gave a grin, rubbed the drop between his index and middle finger, before walking back and beginning to give a sensual dance.

He closed his eyes, feeling his own body with a pleased expression across his face. He began to strip from his robes, the fabric falling to the ground until he stood naked, unveiling complex swirls and patterns that dived over themselves like a river cutting through a forest. Piercings dotted his body, but were subtle enough that they did not take away from his expressive movements.

A smirk crossed his lips as he lifted his arms over his head and began to move his hips, his hands moving over his body in a dance that was passionate and graceful, and yet fierce. His member laid flaccid over a pair of round, plump orbs that moved along with his movements.