Please Sir I Want Some More

The boy wasn't really a boy (he'd just turned 18 a month ago), but he really felt like one. His name was Damien, and he was a street child. He'd lost his parents when the war broke out, and the opposing warriors came in riding with destruction in their hearts. Damien didn't know who'd won, but he didn't much care. Homeless and hungry, he'd joined other kids and together they found a way to survive, though their current 'homes' were merely crates near the shipyard.

But he tried to help them out, especially because the little ones always cried more pitifully when they were hungry. He'd pierced his body like a performer he'd seen once, a long time ago. There were rings on his ears, eyebrows, nose, nipples, navel, and a practical armory around and on his genitals. He had made every single one, and had been lucky none had gotten him sick. A healer was too expensive, and the temples of healing didn't take kindly to the street children, except on the religious holidays when any beggar could get at least one meal and a meager blessing.

So he displayed himself at the festivals (for a price) and the docks in anyone was interested. He never prostituted himself, but that was because he was frightened ever since the veteran came. It wasn't the veteran's fault though, he was his hero after all.

Damien had been walking back home at night, when two half-drunk sailors had stopped him. At first they wanted to see his piercings, and then paid extra to touch. Damien didn't cry out, though they were quite rough. He'd considered the deal done and was turning to leave when one of the sailors grabbed his shoulder. "Where do you think you're going? We wanna fuck you tight ass so hard that all those things jingle around."

He'd attempted to deny the offer, to return their money, but they seemed to get even more determined to take him. One pulled him into an alleyway and covered his mouth as he started to scream. His clothes were easily removed, and he'd been gagged with a tattered sleeve of his sweater. Crying, he still tried to struggle, but the two men were larger and stronger, never having experienced the starvation that had caused Damien's body to not really grow.

One man had grabbed his wrists together, and was using his free hand to unbuckle his pants. Damien was being pulled in a low lean, and knew the man's cock would soon be in his mouth, unwashed and filthy. The other man kept Damien bent over the the way he was leaning over his back and wrapped an arm around his waist. His free hand was also undoing his pants, his hard length aching to sink deep into that skinny little ass.

A sudden loud metallic clang startled them all, and they all looked to the entryway of the alley. There was a large man standing there, and the noise appeared to have been a sword he'd dropped next to travel pack. He had a roguish look about him, like a starving and rabid wolf. He stared down at them all with narrowed eyes, not saying a word.

Damien realized he was in further trouble and renewed his efforts, but the sailor behind him gripped around his middle harder. "Hey you, get the fuck outta here. This here's our little slut. You go find your own."

The newcomer did not respond for a minute, then shook his head calmly. He started walking towards them, calmly but with a heavy step.

"Oh fuck this!" The sailor in front released Damien's wrists, then grabbed a knife at his belt, holding it out towards the man walking to them. "You were warned mister. But since you're a damn fool I don't feel the least bit sorry for you."

Without giving any intention away, the stranger leaped forward, covering the distance between them like a graceful deer. He crashed into the sailor with a hand wrapped around the knife hand, gripping and crushing the man's bones with a sick crunch. The sailor screamed and dropped once his hand was let go, ignoring that the stranger moved quickly and had all ready attacked his compatriot.

Damien registered the crunch and screaming, but the stranger moved so fluidly and unexpectedly, that one second he seemed to be in front, and then he was between him and the man who had just had him pulled against his front. Blinking in almost shock, Damien turned around and saw that the stranger had punched the sailor in the stomach, and the sailor was leaned over that arm, trying to breathe while he coughed out blood.

Silently, the stranger stood straight, letting the offender fall to the ground. He turned around calmly and started walking back, ignoring Damien. As he got to his items, Damien started dressing quickly, avoiding the two injured sailors. He ran after the man, trying to talk to him. "Thank you mister! Is there anything I can do for ya?! I'm kinda a freak if you wanna see, no charge at all! Maybe you wanna know where a bar is?" Damien ran alongside the stranger (as his strides were quite long and he did not slow down for him). He felt a bit ridiculous, sounding far younger than he actually was.

The man glanced at him as he walked, then away again. As they walked in more open areas, Damien realized the man had a scar through the right cheek, originating from the corner of his mouth. He remembered one time hearing that such-and-such army liked to cut their prisoner's tongues out, and left a side scar so they could easily see who'd be 'punished' and who hadn't in their foul prisons. It meant he was not only a veteran, but he couldn't speak. Feeling a bit abashed, but still quite thankful, Damien tried something else. "Hey mister, you want to sleep somewhere for free? We don't got a lot of food, but a little until morning. All the cheap places only open during the day."

Pausing for a step, the veteran nodded at him. Damien then led the way to their little sanctuary, an abandoned dock house that had been set fire at least twenty or so years ago, most probably from a previous war. Most of the others were asleep, and the ones that weren't (having to lookout not only for other gangs, but rats that liked to bite the little children) knew that Damien would only bring someone trustworthy here, so they didn't bother him or ask him questions.

The veteran looked around, then picked a corner and laid out a bedroll, lying down and falling asleep with his sword laid beside him. Damien went to his area and watched him for a few minutes, wondering how the man had escaped or had been released, and what he was going to do. If he'd had a wife before the war, she certainly wouldn't and couldn't have him anymore. As a former prisoner, thus marked, he was a dishonored soul, which was classified as dead in the social order. Thinking about the veteran, the boy had fallen asleep.

The veteran stayed for several months, much to the confusion of the kids and few young adults who hadn't left to find their fortunes yet. He left his things during the day, and would return at night with food, or blankets and clothes. He never smiled to anyone, and practically ignored them otherwise. Damien was at a loss for why he was helping them out (and until following him one day, had been unsure as to how). The veteran fought in the arenas of sport, outdoing any opponent, though he was only allowed into the meager fights, not those for champions, based on his status. But he used the money to buy things for the young people he was living with, though surely he had enough winnings to get a room at an inn.

Damien realized one day that he had been staring at the veteran more than usual. The man had bathed outside with a wet cloth, and Damien could see his naked body through the cracks in the wooden wall. He'd made sure no one else was around, then peeked through a little more. He felt a warm feeling in the pit of his belly as he stared the sunned skin, and ripples of scars and muscles on the veteran's body. Though Damien knew he was a large man, he hadn't realized just how powerful the man was underneath his clothing. He felt a blush on his cheeks when he caught a glance at the man's flaccid organ, wondering that if it was all ready that big, how much bigger could it get when hard?

The idea wouldn't leave him all day and night, and he tossed and turned for hours. His hands had drifted to his pierced organ, stroking lightly, but unsure. He'd masturbated before of course (as sometimes he'd have to do it for a viewing customer to prove his piercings were deep and not fake), but there was a hesitation, and he kept himself deprived, staring at the veteran's silhouette.

Finally he could take it no longer, and stepped out of his bed to walk over there. The watchers were in another part of the building, and he knew he had a while before they came back. He crouched down next to the bed, careful not to be too close. "Pst, mister. Hey, I need to talk to you."

The opened his eyes instantly, and they stared straight at Damien, as if he had only been feigning sleep. Normally he ignored the young man, but his instincts told him there was something important going on.

"I was thinking," Damien whispered, "I mean, I still owe ya. And I can do stuff, ya know?" Feeling stupider as he tried to make a point, Damien sprang forward and started undoing the man's pants, feeling a sudden yearning for the cock inside there. The man cuffed him suddenly, hard enough for him to say ouch, but not so hard that he couldn't still whisper it. He backed away a little and stared at the veteran almost sadly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that mister."

The veteran stared at him a bit longer, then sighed, almost dramatically. While Damien was trying to figure out what else to say or do, the man suddenly reached out and grabbed him, pulling him down and under the old blanket.

Damien merely froze still, not quite sure what was happening. He then realized the man had turned onto his side, and had Damien almost 'hugged' in front of him, also facing the same direction. The man's body felt warm against Damien's back, and he wondered if this mentally fuzzy feeling was why the prostitute of their group said she liked to do what she did. But his brain cleared suddenly when Damien felt the man's hands move in front of him, starting to pull off his shirt and pulls down his pants.

Though Damien was unsure, he wasn't really afraid. He'd offered to either give the veteran and handjob or blowjob, and figured this wasn't all that different if the man didn't want that. It was a bit funny though, to pay back the man who'd saved his virginity with the opportunity to take it himself. Still though, there was something to be said about having the choice in the situation, and Damien felt a little giddy about it as well. Even though the blanket was covering him, Damien felt more exposed than he had ever been showing off his body before, probably because the soldier was still fully clothed behind him.

He breathed in raggedly when the man's large hand rubbed over his chest palm-down. The rough calluses made his skin tingle in delight. The hand stroked and rubbed for a bit longer, then found a pierced nipple and started to gently squeeze and rotate it between two fingers. Damien had often had them touched, but it had never created a feeling that shot down to his crotch like this. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it to his face, wanting to muffle the moans he felt were coming out suddenly.

The other heavy hand merely lay wrapped slightly around his stomach, just barely fingering his navel ring. After a few minutes though, as the upper hand continued to play with his pierced nubs, the lower one moved down. It was large enough to almost fully cup the youth's hardening manhood, and Damien had to shiver at the thought. He tried to muffle himself some more as the hand began to feel around, and he tried to part his legs a little more, giving it more access.

The hand touched the piercings that were on the head of his cock, the shaft, the ones above the base, and those that had been pierced through the loose skin of his balls. Damien wanted to writhe around further as the hand found the two that had been the hardest to do, the small rings behind his sac, between it and his anus. He didn't know how the man had known where to search, but he was glad he had, as the electrifying feeling spread from any metal he touched flowed through him.

The man's upper hand that had been consistently toying with the nipple rings slid down too, and both hands grabbed at the younger man's waist. Damien whimpered softly from a sudden fear, remembering how large the man's thick meat was. But as the man pulled his hips back to his crotch, Damien realized the man was still wearing his pants.

Puzzled, he let the man continue to pull their hips together, eventually feeling the rigidity of the hot organ that his ass wanted without being able to touch. "Mister... why aren't you doing me right?" He asked softly, unsure if it was the right thing to do.

Of course there was no verbal answer, and the veteran's veiled thrusts did not break their rhythm. The man did lean down his head a bit though, and started suckling Damien's neck and ear, making the young man forget his 'handicap'. It was a delightful feeling, and Damien had to grip his hands on the soldier's, needing to steady himself if at least symbolically.

The man continued to hump his butt for a few minutes, sometimes slowly, and sometimes faster. Damien kept quiet as best he could, though the way the man nibbled and suckled at his neck by now was a challenge. The man's hands had moved once more, this time with a forearm hugging his waist to keep Damien still while he did the movements, and the other was rubbing his smaller cock up and down, teasing the piercings every time he touched them.

Thus pleasured more than he could ever imagine, Damien came suddenly, making a sharp cry before he reminded himself to bite down on the blanket. His muffled noises were just as loud though, as the continued pumping of his manhood kept him in an ecstasy state for at least 3 whole minutes.

Finally he realized he had finished, breathing hard as the occasional small muscle twitched in his body. The man had by now increased the pace of his hips pounding at Damien's, and the young man could feel that hardness against his ass so much clearer now. He still didn't understand why the man didn't just take him. But he supposed the veteran had his reasons, so he basked in the afterglow of his orgasm as the man finally finished, barely making a sound the entire time.

They lay there together for a few minutes, until Damien realized he was getting sleepy and he should go to his bed, giving the man some peace. He started to wiggle away when the man wrapped his muscled arms around him tighter, preventing any 'escape'. Damien smiled to himself and lay still then. He fell asleep in the soldier's arms, feeling safer than ever in his life. He was a little curious if he hadn't been penetrated for his own sake, and if so, he hoped he could soon convince the veteran that it would be fine. But with how pleasant tonight had been, he didn't feel all that rushed just yet.