Into Another World - Sean's Story 17

Into Another World - Sean's Story

Part 17

Posted: May 4, 2007
Title: Into Another World - Sean's Story
Author: Ian Howe

*****

"Sean, wake up please, dear heart. It's time to go home." A gentle hand shook his shoulder.

The words took their time to sink in. Home. Sean smiled, yeah, that sounded good. Then, his sluggish brain made the connection between the words, the familiar endearment, and the voice. Ian! The blond sat up quickly, and immediately let out a loud groan, not knowing which was worse, the pain exploding in his head or the one in his arse.

Despite his initial concern at the flight of his student, Ian was relieved. This looked like nothing worse than a first-class hangover from Pierce's wine. Their wine supplier being one of the few things both sheiks had in common, Ian knew what he was dealing with. Sean would give him no problems – at least not today.

The discovery of Sean's escape had come in the late morning of the previous day. By the time they had searched the premises and found out what was missing, it was noon, too late for the heli to start a search in the glaring desert sun. Sheik Urban had been annoyed, but impressed at Sean's inventiveness and determination. He made a mental note not to underestimate the man again.

Knowing that Sean had a supply of water and some protection against the blazing sun, Ian wasn't too worried. A day out in the desert wouldn't kill the blond; it might actually temper his pigheadedness. Even when the heli pilot returned from a search later in the afternoon without spotting a single traveller on foot, the old valide wasn't overly concerned. Either they'd find their fugitive during a recon flight the next morning, or Sean would have been picked up by someone. In that case they'd hear about it soon; the whole desert turned into a grapevine when there was a tale worth telling.

So, Ian had not been really surprised when a messenger from Sheik Brosnan had arrived in the small hours of the night. Although Pierce was their nearest neighbour, he wasn't exactly a close friend of Karl's, but he had offered Sean sanctuary until Urban sent his men to collect him.

After a short conference with Karl and Hugo, it was decided that Ian should go and return Sean to the harem. Sean had trusted the older man to a certain degree thus far, and they hoped he'd simply give up. Ian would take a few men along and travel on camel back, in order to prevent a desperate Sean from attempting to hijack the heli.

Pierce had received and honoured Ian as emissary of a fellow Sheik and assured him that Sean had been bathed, fed, and entertained, as the customs demanded. He suggested that his guest might suffer from a headache, but so did he himself actually, if Ian would excuse him, please, and refer to his majordomo instead. The chamberlain had led Ian to Sean's room and provided his clothes, then bowed and left the two men alone.

After sitting up too fast, Sean winced with each move now. A queasy feeling in his stomach had joined his headache and throbbing arse. There was no way he could fight Ian in his current state. He glared at the older Brit, then grudgingly accepted a glass of water and a pill. The pounding in his head had receded to a dull ache by the time he had dressed. Thankfully, Ian had brought more comfortable clothing than the garb he had worn during the flight.

They left the building and Sean recoiled in horror upon realising that he was expected to ride back on a camel. Apparently, his punishment for doing a runner had already begun. Ian gave him a sympathetic look and suggested that Sean could ride with one of the men. He wasn't surprised that the offer was declined. The older Brit shrugged and mounted his own steed, then watched Sean's effort with the camel. Struggling hard not to show how sore he was, Sean finally settled on the camel and shot Ian a triumphant glare.

The way back to Urban's dwellings was seemingly endless. In addition to the hangover and the ache from his abused hole, Sean soon grew saddle-sore. Too tired to fight the onsetting depression, it was a very subdued Sean facing the Sheik when they finally reached the oasis.

Karl took the exhausted man in, then turned on his heel and wordlessly led them inside the building. Sean had expected that they'd aim for the Sheik's study, but to his surprise and growing discomfort, Karl was taking them to Hugo's office.

His heart beating madly, Sean's first glance at Hugo's desk revealed that the sounds were gone. However, he had no time to relax when the doctor immediately asked him to undress. Dear gods, please don't let them find out! He lifted his chin in defiance and shook his head.

The Sheik's eyes narrowed. "I've seen the way you walk, awkward, to say the least. I want to know why that is, and you'll obey." His voice sounded threatening in its quietness.

"What would your arse feel like if you'd have been forced to ride on a camel for hours!" Sean spat, hoping that his indignation would mask his fear. Ian, realising that Sean was only barely concealing his panic, interceded. "I'd like a word with you in private," he said and led the younger man to the ante-room where Christian had been sleeping the other night.

"Now, what is this about? Why are you so afraid of Hugo looking you over? Surely, you don't enjoy being sore and he could help you find relief." Ian felt tempted to add, no pun intended, but the other man apparently hadn't noticed the possible double meaning.

Sean's brain raced, he had to find a way out of this, and fast. Swallowing hard, he looked at Ian. "Hugo wants to stick, er, things into my pee-hole! I don't want that! Fuck, I'd even agree to let you put a plug in me, but please don't let him do it!"

With a sigh, Ian nodded. The good doctor tended to overlook that his fascination with medical kink wasn't always shared by his patients. Apparently, Hugo had suggested playing with urethral sounds and given Sean a proper scare. "I'll speak to Hugo. Stop worrying; he won't use his sounds on you unless you ask him to."

Sean shuddered, if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he'd never want to see these sounds again in his life. Still, Hugo might want a closer look at his arse and Sean couldn't allow that. Even if being spoiled goods meant that the Sheik might send him home, he couldn't let anyone find out what Brosnan had done. "Ian, please, can't you just tell them I'm okay? I've a sore bum from that camel," he broke into a pained grin, "and one helluva hangover, but that's it, really. Please, it's bad enough for me to be back here."

Ian studied Sean intensely, then nodded. The blond looked sincere and downcast, and there was no reason to make things more difficult for him. The punishment Karl was about to pronounce would be another blow and enough for Sean to handle right now. "I'll see what I can do. Let's return now."

On entering the doctor's office, Ian pulled Hugo and Karl into a murmured conversation. Finally, Hugo seemed to agree to the older Brit's request. "Fine, I'll get the young man an ointment for his affliction." He glared at the Sheik. "And don't you ruin my efforts by having him spanked again!" Grumbling, the doctor went to rummage through his cupboards until he found what he wanted. "Here. That should help. Come and see me if it doesn't improve within a day."

Before Sean could thank Hugo, Karl cut in, "As the doctor has already indicated we need to discuss your punishment now. Hugo, don't worry. Since the spanking after his first flight attempt didn't make an impression, I'll have to try something else."

Sneering, Sean asked acidly, "So, since my arse has been temporarily declared off limits for your pleasure, are you gonna whip my back like you did with poor Christian?"

Karl stared at Sean until the blond dropped his gaze, then replied softly, "Don't judge what you don't understand." The Sheik cleared his throat and proclaimed, "You'll join us in the dinner hall and spend the evening standing in a corner watching. If you're good, you'll have food later; if not, you'll go to bed without dinner like the naughty child you're so hard trying to be. Understood?"

Hackles rising, Sean made to answer with an insult, but Ian put a hand on his arm and whispered, "Accept it. You wouldn't enjoy sitting anyway." He winked at the blond. Sean caught himself just in time from winking back. It was impossible to be mad at the older Brit, and he secretly agreed that he had been let off lightly.

His authority restored once again, the Sheik had nodded, then left the room. Ian had led Sean to his room and advised him to find some rest before dinner. The blond had nodded wearily, knowing that the older man was right.

Sean reached out to lock the door – and found that the latch had been removed. His enraged shout brought Ian back. "Sean, you surely understand that we prefer to keep a closer watch on you after this latest episode. You can trust me. Nobody is going to disturb your sleep."

"Well, there's no bloody need, is there, since you lot keep molesting me all day already!" Sean's voice lacked the usual fight and Ian decided that this wasn't the time for discussion. "Sleep now, we can talk later. I promise that nobody will enter your room until Karl sends someone to fetch you for dinner, and I'll make sure the messenger knocks. Will that make you feel better?"

"Thank you," the blond nodded. As soon as Ian had left the room, Sean collapsed onto the bed. Originally, he had planned to take a shower first, but couldn't gather the energy for it. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

*****

Two hours later, Sean woke with an aching erection and groaned when he noticed the fresh smear on the midnight-blue silk sheet. It was only a small stain, but it told him he'd better not beat off here, in his bed. You never knew, the Sheik might be a fetish collector and keep the soiled sheet as trophy.

He wrapped one hand around his leaking member to prevent further liquid from making it onto the sheet, and caressed himself leisurely while entering the shower. Thank goodness the Sheik had stuck with European bathroom standards. How on Earth did the Yanks manage a proper wank in the shower without a flexible hose?

Having set the water temperature, Sean adjusted the shower head to pulse mode and directed it onto his cock. He let the spray wander up and down his erection along the throbbing vein, then gasped when the water massaged his crown. Slowly peeling his foreskin down, he aimed the spray for his frenulum and his head fell backwards with a moan. Gods, that felt good!

Sean decided not to waste time. He dialled the water pressure and temperature up, then wrapped his hand around his cock once more and began to stroke himself slowly, while letting the spray massage his frenulum. His breathing went ragged with his growing arousal, and he thrust harder into his hand.

Brief scenes played out in front of his eyes. Christian on his knees, his mouth wrapped around Sean's swollen member, doing unspeakable things with his tongue. Sean stroked faster. Another scene, Ian, tapping his finger against the blond's quivering hole, wiggling the digit into him and touching the incredible spot inside.

Wondering for a moment if he should try to find his prostate, Sean winced at the thought of having his sore entrance touched. Another time. His thoughts were now drawn to Bambi's tongue licking his tiny hole out, then Brosnan's blunt finger, exploring, probing, brushing the bundle of nerves deep inside. Sean felt his balls draw up and his whole lower body began to tingle.

Eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, Sean felt Brosnan impaling him, relentlessly putting rhythmical pressure on his tiny gland and roughly fisting his cock. His knees buckled when his climax hit him hard and his cock pumped out seed in seemingly endless gushes.

Sean staggered back against the shower wall and directed the spray away from his now oversensitive glans. His eyes opened wide when understanding hit him of what he had whacked off over.

The realisation was, however, pushed aside by his shock at seeing Craig stand in the entrance to the tiny bathroom. The New Zealander was grinning widely and clapped his hands in applause. "Now that was a show I wouldn't have wanted to miss!" Craig adjusted his cock.

Sean glared at him. "Why didn't you say you were here?"

The young man shrugged. "Didn't look like you needed my help. Besides, I did knock, but it seems you were too busy to notice." Grinning, Craig gave another meaningful glance at Sean's now limp cock.

"Fuck you!" Sean directed the shower spray at his visitor.

Craig shrieked, then leaped aside and leered at Sean, "You're offering? Look, I'm only here to tell you that the Sheik expects you in the dinner hall in twenty minutes." He paused. "I'll see you there, I guess."

Stupefied, Sean watched the young man leave. By the time he'd arrive at dinner hall, every man on the premises would know he'd been found having a Barclay's in the shower. The blond groaned; what had he done to deserve this? He quickly dressed in his black silk boxers, then left to receive his punishment.

On entering dinner hall, the Sheik had directed Sean to a corner of the room and told him to kneel. Fuming, but relieved he didn't have to join the men at the table, Sean had watched he usual orgy unfold.

Eric had blown the Sheik and received a hand-job from Viggo in exchange. Christian had ridden Craig; then, the New Zealander had pinched the young Brit's welts and bruises until he had come, too. Sean had shrugged. A few weeks ago, he'd have been shocked beyond belief. Now, he couldn't be bothered to react.

When Ian had helped him back onto his feet and fed him later, after the hall had emptied, he had accepted the meal, then gone to bed. He was back in his cage, but by no means tamed. What he needed now was some rest, followed by a new plan...

*****

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