#Anglo-Saxon Metal

[triste-guillotine]

FOREFATHER "Engla Tocyme" CD 2001 ('...Born to rule with an iron hand. Waging fire throughout the land. Work the machine, blood, swear and tears. This war will run for a thousand years...')

1. Engla Tocyme 2. Into the Forever 3. Iron Hand 4. Fifeldor 5. The Swan's Road 6. Forever in Chains 7. The Fate of Kings

"Intensity - A fire does burn in us Adversity - Nothing can hinder us Fervency - Strong enough is no enemy Victory - Eminence is our destiny

Mortality - We're not afraid of the other side Bravery - From our fate we refuse to hide Ignominy - In our hearts is no room for shame Prosperity - What is ours we shall now regain

To the battle we'll storm and fill the souls of our foe with fear Crush their towers and their rule until all signs of them disappar

Supremacy - Redeemind our dignity Liberty - Free of nonentity Mastery - Towards our own ends we go Eternity - Into the forever we flow"

Engla Tocyme | Forefather (bandcamp.com)

[blueiscoool]

A Hoard of 122 Anglo-Saxon Coins Sells at Auction

A hoard of more than 100 Anglo-Saxon coins discovered by two metal detectorists in a field near Braintree, Essex, has been sold auction at Noonans Mayfair on February 21. Believed to have been buried in 1066 and owned by an individual who died during the Battle of Hastings. The collection of Anglo-Saxon pennies found by two metal detectorists have been sold for £325,560 ($411,000) at auction.

The coins were each worth 12 shillings, a considerable sum back in 11th century, leading Noonans’s coin expert Bradley Hopper to hypothesize that the reason they were abandoned was due “some great personal misfortune” such as the death of their owner in the conflict. Hopper added, though, that “it was perhaps quite common for people who had access neither to banks nor vaults to conceal their wealth in the ground, even in times of peace.�� All bar two of the coins were minted within five years of 1066.

A small selection of coins from the hoard were bought by Colchester Museum and the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge, following the protocol of the 1996 Treasure Act. The purchased coins include two 11th-century Byzantine coins.

The metal detectorists found the majority of the coins in 2019 over the course of a few days, all within a 100-foot radius, some just inches beneath ground’s surface. A further 70 coins were found when the site was revisited in 2020. The coins were minted in various southern English towns and cities, including London, Cambridge, Canterbury, and Hastings.

The coins date from the reigns of Edward the Confessor and Harold II, the last two Anglo-Saxon kings of England. Harold was killed during the 1066 Battle of Hastings, seen on the Bayeux Tapestry receiving a fatal arrow through the eye. His death marked the victory of William the Conqueror, the first Norman king of England.

The detectorists have kept several coins, with 122 of the remaining relics headed to Noonans. The proceeds will be shared between the finders and the owner of the land on which the coins were discovered. Some coins included in the sale are exceedingly rare and could fetch £6,000 ($7,600) individually.

Hopper said that Noonans is “particularly fortunate that the auction catalogue contains not only the rarest and most academically interesting English coins from the Braintree Hoard, but also those pieces in the finest state of preservation.” He hopes that the auction will “promote further research into this wonderful coinage.”

By Verity Babbs.

[sonnemordundsterne]

"Ôs is the well of all speech, wisdoms pillar and comfort of the wisemen, and each earls joy and confidence."

From the anglosaxon rune poem.

[a-super-evil-cat-who-murders]

Main character of the story I'm writing for my capstone project, called Ice Child. His mom was an elf, and he inherited her magical ice powers, among other things...

[panicinthestudio]

Drinking horn mounts, late 6th century, 6th-7th century terminal vandykes

Diameter: 11.90, centimetres (rim), 3.10 centimetres (terminal)

Height: 7.70 centimetres (rim-mount)

Length: 22.50 centimetres (terminal)

Silver-gilt drinking-horn mounts: bird head terminal with ribbing; rim band with human and rosette motifs; nielloed; twelve vandykes.

Diameter: 10 centimetres (mouth, approx) 

Length: 44.50 centimetres

Drinking-horn on modern core, fittings now mounted on a replica (no.19).

Collection of the British Museum: 1, 2, 3

~ Pair of drinking horns.

Date: A.D. 6th century

Place of origin: Taplow

Period/Culture: Early Anglo-Saxon

Medium: Horn

[memories-of-ancients]

Hey Everyone! Look at this Gold and Rock Crystal Bottle from the Galloway Hoard!

In September of 2014 an avid metal detectorist named Derek Mclennan discovered one of the grandest historical finds in Scottish archaeological history. While searching on church lands near Balmaghie, Mclennan uncovered the Galloway Hoard, a viking age treasure hoard consisting of over 100 objects dating to around 900 AD. While the hoard has some gold objects, most are silver including pieces of jewelry, hack silver, and silver ingots.

Among the objects, the most incredible is a rock crystal bottle that is decorated with gold. The bottle was found inside of a silk pouch, the silk coming from either Byzantium or Asia. The crystal jar itself is not from the middle ages but is Roman and dates to the 4th century. Later in the early middle ages the jar was decorated in gold filigree, at the behest of Bishop Hyguald according to an inscription on the gold work. While the identity of "Bishop Hyguald" is unknown, it is thought that he mostly likely came from Northumbria, an Anglo-Saxon kingdom in northern England. Northumbria would be conquered and occupied by Danish Vikings in the 9th century, which explains how the bottle became a part of the Galloway Hoard.

Today, the bottle along with the rest of the Galloway Hoard is housed at the National Museum of Scotland

[ask-the-prose]

Conducting a War

So, your story takes place during a war. Maybe your characters are experiencing war or maybe they're waging war against other characters or groups. Likely, you are not a general or expert in warfare. How do you write a story that is set during a war?

Who's fighting who?

The first, most obvious, step is to know who is fighting whom and why. Wars are between groups of people. They can be a small clan, a massive nation, or even an entire planet or galaxy. Two characters fighting it out are not considered "at war" because they are representing themselves and settling an individual dispute, even if it is a high-stakes dispute.

Why are the parties in your story fighting? There are a lot of different reasons why two groups of people would go to war against each other, but most wars are over resources at their center. Disputes over land and borders, over who gets what crops and for what price, and even religious wars are usually about the resources available and scarcity. So when you're talking about war, you need to know what either side wants. Just like a character, your war parties need to have desires and stakes.

"Resources" can mean just about anything that society needs. Food, fresh water, opportunities for trade, minerals, metals, building materials, and wealth are all examples of resources your war parties can fight over.

What does it take to wage war?

Wars require resources too. It's not just about getting resources but spending resources as well. When nations go to war in the real world, there are opportunities for people to make exorbitant amounts of money and wealth by taking advantage of a wartime economy.

The parties waging war need people to fight their battles. They need to pay those people, arm them, feed and clothe them, and transport them to where they need to be. Where does the government or person in charge get the food, armor, weapons, and transportation? Where do they allocate those scarce resources? Oftentimes in war, those in charge must make sacrifices. Is there a portion of land that the person in charge gives up to protect another portion with their limited resources?

There are unlimited stories hidden in these questions, and a large base of world-building will help to answer these questions in depth. There are many opportunities for tension and rising stakes for your war parties in the event that the opposing side makes acquiring war resources difficult or impossible.

Types of Armies

Your armies tell you a lot about the resources available to your characters and how you can build your story and plot line around the war. So I'll discuss the differences between four types of armies that exist in the real world and throughout history. These are examples; you can change or twist these examples however best suits your story.

The first is a professional army. These guys are paid and trained by the state; being in the army is their entire job. The army can fill a number of different roles other than fighting, but their purpose is to provide martial protection to the people of their nation and carry out martial orders from the government or sovereign entity in charge. Important aspects of a professional army to consider: these soldiers are paid for their work, they are trained by professionals, and oftentimes they follow a hierarchy or chain of command. Most governments provide medical care to their professional armies, but this isn't required. The soldiers can be conscripted or voluntary.

Next up is a mercenary army. This army is also paid for their services, but they are not trained by the state, and they ultimately take their orders from the organization, not the government. The government commissions the mercenary army for their services. The government does not provide most of the resources required to maintain an army. They pay for the army but don't necessarily feed, arm, or clothe them.

A fyrd is a historical term that refers specifically to the Anglo-Saxon armies raised by different Lords and Thegns to protect their lands and shires. These armies consisted of civilians and able-bodied free men from the local settlements and farms gathered by the ealdorman. They were conscripted into the service, and they lacked formal martial training. Also, importantly, their provisions and weapons were provided by the soldiers themselves. Meaning you will see fewer long swords and forged weapons for the purposes of fighting and more axes and improvised weaponry. The purposes of the improvised weaponry are primarily as other tools, such as axes for chopping wood and knives for butchery. Any horses or mules brought along for work or fighting are the property of the lords or farm owners who provided them.

A militia is very similar to a fyrd; this army consists of civilians who are paid or conscripted into service by the government but are not professional soldiers. These militias may sometimes have training from professional soldiers among their ranks, but mostly they are civilians training themselves. The soldiers provide their provisions, weaponry, and armor, meaning that the wealth has to come from the soldiers and their professional jobs and not from their martial services. The militia is a more modern term, but it is marginally different in that most militias we think of today are voluntary and not conscripted.

Battle Strategy

This is where a little research may help you. Battles behave differently depending on different factors. What technology and weaponry is available to your war parties? Are we talking about bladed weapons or guns or lasers? Is your army a professional or mercenary army, or is it more like a fyrd or militia?

When setting up a battle in your story, focus on the differences between the two armies and how that may affect their strategy toward fighting or engaging the enemy. If your fyrd faces a professional army, they may encounter some problems regarding weaponry and armor. Your fyrd will struggle to match a professional army in defending against well-made weapons and professional training. How do they work to compensate for those weaknesses?

When looking at two equally armed and trained armies, a general or battle strategist will look to the terrain to plan a battle. Generally, controlling the high ground helps in battles. If one army has a heavy cavalry presence, your opposing army may want anti-cavalry measures in place. Do they have the space to do so? Urban areas will lend themselves well to guerilla-style and urban warfare tactics. Jungles and forests will look different to hills and plains, and deserts bring unique problems to a battle that a mountainous terrain might not.

What is the battle for? Battles have a purpose; otherwise, there would be no value to the loss of troops. What is worth the risk of losing lives? Does the battle have stakes? Some stakes that might be worth conducting a battle over include taking control of a river pass, allowing naval trade and travel, cutting off control of a trade route to the enemy, or invading an important town or city to process and refine necessary materials.

Ending the War

The war will eventually end if your characters are lucky. But what ends a war? Wars usually end with agreements between the two opposing parties following surrender or extension of peaceful negotiations. Negotiating what each party needs or wants is an art in and of itself. Each party must come to the agreement that waging war further is more expensive and less rewarding than ending violent opposition with concessions made by either side.

Conclusion

Wars and battles are like characters; they have needs, desires, and stakes. Writing your characters in a war or battle will hinge on the needs and stakes of the greater war and story. Important questions to ask are: what are we fighting for? Who are we fighting? And what happens if we don't fight?

–Indy

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Gryffindor's Sword

This isn't really a theory for the books, but this really bothered me, so it's more like a little rant, I guess.

See, I love historical weapons (and historical fashion, but that's not what we're talking about now), and I hate the design of Godric Gryffindor's sword in the movies. And I want to rant a little about what Gryffindor's sword would actually look like if anyone bothered to do a quick Google search.

This ornate little thing:

Is not a sword, it's a toothpick. No way would a self-respecting English wizard-warrior of the 11th century use something that looks anything like that. Not only does the blade look pathetic, this sword isn't remotely functional. Here is a summary of some of my complaints about the design (without talking about historical accuracy):

This thing is tiny. Swords shouldn't be this dainty, they need to have some weight behind them so blows would actually do damage. This so-called "sword" is barely better than fighting with a knitting needle.

The hilt is too ornate, it looks purely ceremonial and not functional. Battle-made swords would usually be simpler. All the ornate details on the hilt make it so it'll be incredibly uncomfortable to hold in your hand, which is the last thing you want in a fight.

Additionally, the all-metal hilt would have a very weak grip with little to no friction. It means that in the middle of a duel, you could find the sword slipping out of your hand if your opponent strikes it hard enough.

The blade profile is atrocious. The edge should thin out gradually to improve the cutting, here we see the edge just, thins out really quickly at the end, without gradual tempering. Even kitchen knives have this gradual thinning. But not this sword, I guess no one needed to cut with it.

And it won't be good for stabbing either, as the point is barely pointy (even in other photos). And even if we assume it's pointy, a blade designed for trusting would be thinner at the point than this one (on all planes). That said, thrusting swords in this period would still be better at cutting than the above atrocity.

This sword lacks a fuller (the sort of cave-in in the middle of the blade). The fuller helps reduce weight and strengthen the rigidity of a sword. Magic can help with both these issues, but, the lack of fuller is a mark of a poorly designed sword.

Well-made swords would usually have what's called a "distal taper", which is that the blade gradually thins on the horizontal plane to reduce weight at the point. This is good for balance and stabbing. This is an example of a distal taper on a knife:

The design from the movies does not have a distal taper and I can guarantee no goblin would look at the abomination the movies called a sword and think it's remotely passable.

So, if we want to talk about what Godric Gryffindor's sword would actually look like?

It'll be something like this:

(11th-century Viking Sword, got popularised in Britain by the Viking invasions)

Or this:

(11th-century Anglo-Saxon Broadsword, existed in Britain since the 5th century in slightly different designs. Yes it is very similar to a Viking sword, it was a common design at the time)

Or even an arming sword that rose in popularity around the mid-11th-century:

(Early 11th century English Arming Sword)

As an 11th-century English wizard, Godric could've had either of the three.

As for the design described in the book and how it could work with this kind of blade:

A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat, its hilt glittering with rubies the size of eggs.

(CoS, 295)

For the metal, there are two possibilities here:

Harry doesn't know much about swords or metals, I think he could mistake polished steel for silver. Silver is way weaker than steel and depending on forging, another steel sword could cut through it. Pure silver would also not hold its form as much as steel, so a sword design like that of older bronze swords (another softer metal) could be better for it than what was typical for steel swords in the 11th century. Even if the silver is hardened to keep it in shape (which can be done) it would become brittle and break easily. Basically, regular silver is a really bad metal for these kinds of swords, especially if your opponents wield steel. Which brings me to the second option...

The other possibility is that Goblin-forged silver is just magically very strong so it won't break under pressure (like regular hardened silver). Steel swords solve the issue by having some yield to bend instead of snapping, if goblin silver is just magically strong enough that the sword won't snap or the sword is enchanted unbreakable, this would work too.

As for the egg-sized rubies, well, maybe the size of fish eggs? I honestly don't know what JKR was on about here... The sword could have one egg-sized ruby on the pommel (the metal piece at the end of the hilt), but that's it.

If I were to get more specific with the design, I did like that the movies wrote Godric's name on the sword, which is very much possible with a more historically accurate functional sword. Like these Viking/Anglo-Saxon swords from the early 10th century with gold and silver inlay on the blade and hilt (The sword is damaged but it's real):

So his name and maybe some other patterns could be written on the sword in silver and gold, which would look really cool, in my opinion.

Also, you could get even decorative on the pommel and crossguard while keeping it functional, including the addition of more precious metals like silver beyond just inlaying it.

Like this replica of 10th-century bronze Viking sword hilt:

Ceremonial swords (not meant for battle) could get even more ornate on the hilt. Like the Essen Sword gifted in 993 A.D that actually has precious stones decorating its pommel and crossguard:

My vision for Gryffindor's sword

Steel blade or magical goblin-forged silver (doesn't really matter) that is shaped like the blades above. Personally, I'm leaning towards an arming sword design, with blade inlays of silver and gold that write the name Gryffindor along with some other magical imagery of lions or dragons.

The hilt would be made of silver (or covered in silver) and have one large ruby on the pommel and/or multiple rubies like in the sword pictured above along with gold inlays. I also imagine the crossguard ending with little lion heads, kinda like the little dragons on this crossguard (The date on this sword is debated to be anywhere between the 8th century to the 13th century, but they could create hilts like this in the 11th century):

The hilt would have a wrap of leather so there would be a better grip for fighting. No way is Gryffindor carrying a ceremonial sword that he can't use. I think said leather should be painted red.

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Tumblr, We Need To Talk

So multiple times now, posts that I have written, completely free of any sense of anger at all, have been interpreted by folks here - not just as angry - but as malicious. It has now happened enough times that we need to address the biases at hand here.

I am three things that are relevant for this discussion: I am Jewish. I am Italian. And I am Scottish.

These are three cultures that feature "loudness" as a positive trait. What do I mean by that?

I mean arguing, debate, discussion at my home growing up was louder than a kindergarten field trip to the zoo. Louder than a metal concert's mosh pit. Louder than the conure room at a bird shelter.

I am a loud, boisterous person. That's just who I am. With those three cultural backgrounds, I can't even help it. On more than one occasion, someone has interpreted my tendency for the dramatic, my eagerness, and my enthusiasm as being "too much". In fact, it is quite a point of trauma for me, the number of times that specific rejection has occurred.

But to me, I wasn't doing anything wrong! I was acting as my family acted, as people from my culture acted, as those around me in other situations acted. In Judaism, arguing is even seen as emotion-free, because interpersonal debate is how we learn and grow. Even the most stringent and austere Jewish groups will feature a loudly arguing table of scholars in the Beit Midrash. Italian dinners are filled with singing and shouting for joy. Being Scottish means yelling at everything and then yelling at it again. This was, and is, my life. It was loud. It was emotional. It was excitement.

Online, tone indicators are even worse, with many people easily being misunderstood in a given situation. Hell, there are probably those of you reading this now who are reading a higher level of emotion and anger into my words than is actually there. That added complication has now lead to multiple occurrences of this misunderstanding.

This isn't limited to the cultures I come from, of course! The anger and excitement and enthusiasm found in Black culture has been weaponized against it for as long as racism has existed (y'all can ask @ladyraekingmaker more about that). In fact, lower class Black Women in the United States were often perceived negatively for being loud and having their private lives carried out in public (because they did not have access to private spaces). Same for different cultural norms in other places, from Persia/Iran to parts of Latin America and more.

Indeed, loudness, anger, and tone are heavily tied to how different cultures are perceived. Calmness, stoicism, and a lack of "emotionalness" is a highlight of WASPy cultures, famously - "white anglo-saxon protestant" if you're not familiar. Being more "low key" and less expressive was considered high class, being less so was low class. And that still continues today - from the snide comments of tumblr anon's and ex friends, to the literal policing of impoverished communites of color for their celebrations and community gatherings.

The perception of emotion and passion as a "bad" thing is 100% tied to white supremacy. Full stop. In fact, policing people for being "angry" at certain things was a great way to shut down discussion of many important issues, that deserved anger - things like racism, sexism, and homophobia. Anger is a good, important, and necessary emotion - and being emotional in general is a way many people use to emphasize their own points and indicate how much they care about a subject. It's necessary, and it's good. Anger, emotion, excitement, these are good things.

It is better for someone to be angry and up front with you, allowing you to learn and grow as a person, than to bullshit you and mollycoddle you into a state of complacency.

So, that means that for many people reading this, you probably never really thought of how your reaction to loud, or emotional, or dramatic, or excitable people was related to upholding social norms. That's okay! It's not a big deal! We are all born with blind spots and things we are ignorant of that we have to understand and tackle. Growing up is something we never stop doing.

But I'm not magically going to stop being excitable, loud, and emotional. And I'm not going to magically stop being myself. While in person, my tone and facial expressions would help others to at least see that I am not mad but excited; here, you're going to have to take me at my word.

If I am angry, you will know it. It will be extremely, painfully obvious. I might even explicitly say it. But the fact remains is that, every time I have gotten (frankly, condescending) anons in my inbox telling me to "calm down", I haven't been angry at all. And that is a cultural bias a lot of you have to examine in yourselves. By policing how people - not just me - on how they talk and express themselves, you are upholding white supremacy. And you need to stop.

I am too much for some people. That's okay! If I am, you are free to go. No one has to follow me. But I am not going to minimize myself just to make some people comfortable, especially when I am doing nothing wrong. And if you continue to insist that I am, you are missing the point of this post.

Stop worshiping the empty alter of stoicism, of emotionlessness, of quietude. It's not how most humans act. And it shouldn't be, because emotions exist for a reason. That reason? Is communication.

And if you're still not convinced, just get invited to a Pesach seder. Good luck with that being anything close to "calm".

~ Meig

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 3

Any Viking/Norse words and customs were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of.  A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has.  Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way?

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

Previous chapter Next chapter

Y/N held Bucky’s arm as he led her through the village.  People who hadn’t been down by the shore watched her walk by, some of them bowing and others smiling widely.  They reached a tall black structure, the hof, or temple as Bucky explained, and she was separated from Bucky and brought inside.�� She followed Winnifred until she was presented to a group of women who were surrounding a bath.  They were all in simple strapped dresses, as the heat of the water dampened the air heavily.

“We must prepare you for the marriage ceremony tonight,” Winnifred said.   Y/N nodded, trying to relax the nervous flutter of her heart.  “They will take care of you, and I will come for you when they’re finished.”  Y/N was stripped and washed extensively.  Her hair and teeth were brushed and cleaned, her body scrubbed in all the crevices, even in spots she was embarrassed being touched.  She took it all in stride, assuming that it was customary.  When it was all done she was dried off with a fine blanket and then dressed in an outfit like what Winnifred was wearing, but the dress was a dark green color and the fur adorned on her shoulders was that of a fox, the red complimenting the dress nicely.  Her hair was braided and her fingertips dipped in a red paint that dyed her skin quickly.  She was given a necklace that attached to her dress made of beads, metal and bone. A circlet crown was placed atop her head nestled in her hair, made of finely woven metal, more beads and tiny pieces of gold.  

Winnifred came to collect her and brought her to the front door of the temple.  “I will present you to our people, and you will be given a new name,” she explained.

“A new name?” Y/N questioned.  “What’s wrong with my name?”

“Nothing, my child.  You will go by both names.  Y/N, your English given name, and a new Danish one, given by prophecy from a seer…me,” she gave Y/N a wink.  Y/N nodded as Winnifred tapped the doors with her staff.  They opened instantly from the outside and Y/N was greeted by everyone in the village, torches lining the way as nightfall set in.  Winnifred led her out into the small clearing in front of the temple.  “I give you Y/N, a lost daughter of Freya, our soon-to-be Drottning and wife of my son, James.”  She lifted her hands towards the sky.  “I call upon our Aesir!  We present this child to you for reclamation!”  Her hands shook and a faraway rumble of thunder was heard, making the crowd of people mumble as they watched the sky.   The clouds seemed to clear for a moment, and as the stars peeked through Winnifred smiled.  “Astrid,” she beamed.  She placed her hands on Y/N’s face.  “Y/N  Astrid, daughter of Freya, Drottning of the Danes, child of the stars.”

The crowd of people cheered as Y/N smiled at Winnifred.  Winnifred led her to Bucky who stood nearby.  He had also bathed and was dressed in a long dark red tunic, brown pants and deep brown boots, an even longer fur coat on his shoulders.  His braids and hair adornments were renewed and he wore a necklace with a round pendant.  Y/N gawked at him, appreciating him all cleaned up as he took her hand, leading her through the people.  Many of them reached out their hands to touch her, speaking to her in their language and some in English congratulating her and welcoming her.  Bucky led her to a clearing in the middle of the village with a large bonfire heating the area.  There were garlands covered in flowers and fruit, furs placed throughout the seating areas, and people playing instruments she didn’t recognize.  A few women were singing along with the music, their voices hauntingly rippling through the air.  Something about the whole thing felt so right, so comforting, so true, that Y/N fought back tears watching them celebrate.

They approached an arch made of horns where another woman dressed similar to Winnifred stood.  As people got into positions around the fire and seating areas the woman held her hand up to quiet the players and singers.  She held up her painted red hands that were holding a braided rope that was made of fabrics, ribbons and a strip of a black animal pelt.  

“Frigg!  We bring to you a couple wishing to bind themselves together in life and beyond.”  She gestured to them to give her their hands.  They presented their entwined hands to her and she proceeded to bind their hands together.  She started what sounded like a prayer in their language and Bucky lowered his head.  Y/N followed quickly.  As the prayer continued Y/N felt her power flowing through her without thinking about it or calling upon it herself.  Her hands began glowing in the binding, and as the woman’s voice rose in volume the power seeped into Bucky’s hands.  He didn’t react at first until the power seemed to inject into the veins of his hand.  His eyebrows furrowed, then a low hiss passed through his teeth, and then he began to shiver as the green light zapped through him.  Y/N looked on in horror, trying to release his hands but unable to because of the binding.  She looked at the woman, who was still chanting, and then behind her to Winnifred, who just nodded at her with a serene look on her face.  Bucky shivered more violently then suddenly stopped, his body almost going rigid before a heavy sigh left his mouth.  The woman finished her prayer and did the motion in front of her face that Bucky and Winnifred had done in greeting before turning towards him.  

“Awaken, White Wolf,” the woman said quietly.  Bucky’s eyes opened and he blinked rapidly until his gaze met Y/N’s eyes.  She gasped upon seeing her power flash in his irises before it disappeared.  “You now share the power of Freya, Jarl.  She has bestowed her gift through her daughter to you.  Your children, their children, and their children and so on will carry this power, this gift, this responsibility.  Treat it well and with respect, else it will be taken from you and lost forever to the land and its people.  May it bless your lives together.”  She reared back and let out what almost sounded like a howl.  The people around them all did the same.

“Frigg and Freya bless this union happily.  You may seal this marriage with a kiss.”

Bucky still looked shocked at what had just happened but smiled as he leaned down to Y/N.  He pressed his lips to hers as they shared their first kiss.  The people around them cheered, and yet Y/N couldn’t hear them.  She was too entranced by his lips, the softness, the tenderness, but most of all the fire it ignited deep within her.  A rush of their now combined power flowed through them and melted into the ground below them, creating another whistling wind that sounded like laughter and a rumble in the earth that sounded like a hum of acceptance.

He pulled away and grinned widely at her.  The woman untied their hands and Y/N immediately brought her hands to his face.  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what was happening, I didn’t mean to hurt you–”

“I’m fine, my Drottning,” he kissed her nose.  “I feel…reborn.”  Y/N huffed out a laugh as she scratched his beard, the worry still etched on her face.  “Now we celebrate, Asynja,” he pulled her along to one of the seating areas and pulled her into his lap.

The night was filled with songs and dances and performances.  There were even fights, with the people making bets on who would win.  Mead flowed heavily and food was shared as the night drew on.  Y/N was approached by many of the people, some of them just to say hello, others to bless her and Bucky, and others who asked for blessings from her to their children.  Y/N didn’t know what to say, and yet each time something deep inside her seemed to take over and the words just spilled from her mouth.  After hours deep into the night Winnifred stepped forward.

“It is time for the union to be completed,” she motioned to Bucky and Y/N to follow her.  There were some “oohs” and “aahs” and whistles heard through the crowd as Bucky excitedly pulled Y/N out of the clearing and back towards the temple.  Once they’d reached it the women who had bathed Y/N before opened the doors for them.  A large bed had appeared in the temple where benches and tables had once been.  Y/N tensed as she knew what was to come next.  “Here I leave you.  Congratulations my dear Bucky,” she took his face in her hands again, giving his cheeks a pinch, “and welcome to the family, Y/N Astrid,” she walked up to Y/N and pressed her forehead against Y/N’s forehead.  She gave them one final head bow then retreated back towards the clearing.  

Bucky pulled Y/N into the temple and the doors were closed behind them.  Y/N was still tense as she stared at the bed.  The temple was warm, making her start to sweat under the fox fur she wore, but she was afraid to make the first move and take anything off.  She knew what the wedding night entailed, how it was done, but had never done it before herself.  It was a strict rule that an English princess was to be untouched by anyone until her wedding night with her new husband.  Y/N didn’t know if the Danes had different traditions.

“You look afraid,” Bucky observed. 

“That’s because I am,” Y/N answered quietly.

“So it’s true?  The English don’t let their royals do anything until marriage?”

“Yes,” Y/N glanced at him, surprised.  “At least, they try.  Have you done this before?”

Bucky shook his head.  “No, but not because I wasn’t supposed to.  Just because, well, war,” he said somberly.  “Never got the chance.  Or found someone I’d be willing to be with.” Y/N nodded, her eyes flitting around the room.  Her breathing became heavier as her nervousness gripped her heart.  “Hey,” he stepped in front of her.  “It’s going to be fine.  We will learn.  Together.”

Y/N nodded again as she tried to slow her breathing.  Bucky pulled her chin up with his finger so she would look at him.  He leaned his face down to her and brushed his lips down her cheek leaving a wake of small kisses across her nose to the other cheek, and then hovered above her lips.  Y/N’s eyes fluttered as she watched him, her eyes flicking back and forth from his eyes to his lips.  He pressed his lips against hers like he had for their first kiss, then angled his head to deepen it, pressing more firmly against her mouth.  The fire deep within her was ignited once again as his lips moved against hers.  Her hands gripped his shirt as his arms wrapped around behind her and pulled her flush to his body.  

Bucky walked backwards with her until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.  He slid his fur off and then broke the kiss and sat.  His hands slid from her face to her shoulders and unhooked the fox fur off of her, then slid behind her and untied the back of her dress.  It loosened around her and she let it slide down her body.  She wore an almost sheer underdress and some underwear underneath it.  Bucky pulled her underwear down and helped her pull the underdress over her head until she was left bare before him.  Y/N instinctively started to cover her breasts with her arms, her legs trying to cross to cover her most private parts, but he held her still.  “You’re beautiful, Y/N, don’t hide from me.”

He leaned forward and kissed her stomach then dragged his lips across her skin to the underside of her left breast.  He kissed it, making her shiver, then licked his way to her nipple, giving it a soft lick and then sucking it into his mouth.  Y/N’s hands shook as they laced behind his head, holding him against her as he nipped lightly at her skin.  His hand went to her other breast and massaged it, his fingers rubbing her other nipple.  

Y/N’s knees felt like they were about to give out from the pleasure she felt at just his mouth and fingers on her.  She gasped as he switched breasts, his mouth now laving at the opposite nipple.  He let out small whimpers as he sucked and licked her, his breathing becoming faster.  Y/N moaned at a particularly hard suck, her head falling back.  Bucky’s metal hand slid down in between her legs, his fingers rubbing her lower lips until he found the little spot that had her nearly buckling against him.  The metal against her skin felt glorious.  His mouth let her breast go with a pop and he stood.

He turned and pushed Y/N onto the bed and motioned for her to scoot up as he kicked off his boots.  He pulled his shirt, pants and underwear off and stood before her.  Y/N’s heart rate jumped as she looked at him.  The contrast of his metal arm against his skin was tantalizing, but she was shocked by the amount of markings he had on his body hidden under his clothes.  A tapestry of animals and runes littered his torso and his right arm.  As her gaze wandered down she audibly gulped.  This man was huge in every way.  Her widened eyes made him laugh.  “It will be alright, Drottning,” he said as he crawled onto the bed.  “I will get you ready for me.”  He laid on his front and hooked his arms around her legs, pulling her body towards him so that her core was in front of his face.  She tensed, not knowing what he was doing.  He felt her hesitation and smiled up at her.  “I’ve been told that this helps.  You’ll like it, I promise,” he winked at her.  Y/N nodded.  He kissed her thigh and then dipped his head down.  She wasn’t sure what to expect until she felt his tongue lick her slit and she gasped loudly.  He licked her lower lips languidly then would dip further into her and flick at her entrance.  He moved upwards and found that spot again, flicking his tongue quickly on it.  Y/N’s back arched, her hips trying to twist out of his iron grip, not because it was painful but because it almost felt too good.

“Bucky…” Y/N moaned, her hands pulling at his hair.  It only spurred him on, a deep hum from his mouth vibrating into her pussy, making her squeal.  He sucked on the spot and unlooped his flesh arm from her hip.  She felt one of his fingers start to prod at her entrance that was quickly getting wetter by the second.  He slipped his finger in then thrust it in and out slowly.  Y/N felt a tension deep in her gut start building.  He slipped another finger into her, stretching her as he thrust them in and out, picking up in speed as his lips sucked her spot into his mouth.  The tension was making her see stars, her legs trying to clamp shut around his head.  He then sped his fingers up again and started flicking the spot harshly with his tongue.  Y/N moaned loudly as the sensations all became too much and she felt the tension snap inside her.  She felt a gush come from her by Bucky’s mouth as she nearly ripped at his hair.  Her legs shook uncontrollably and her hips bucked violently.  The feeling started to ebb away and Bucky pulled his fingers out of her, licking some of the liquid that came from her before pulling himself up.

“Taste so good, my Drottning,” he said in a husky whisper.  He lifted his wet fingers to her mouth.  She opened her mouth instinctively and he put them in, making her taste herself.  She moaned a little at the taste as she tried to breathe normally again.

Bucky’s fingers retreated and he put them in his own mouth, licking up anything left she didn’t get.  He spread her legs further apart and settled between them, his hips inching closer to hers.  Y/N tensed again, knowing what he was about to do.  “I don’t think it will…” she started, then shut her mouth.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing her again.  “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Y/N hesitantly nodded.  Bucky took his stiff cock in his hand and pumped it a few times, making himself moan, then lined it up with her pussy.  The head of it slowly pushed into her, making both of them groan.  Y/N tried to relax but felt herself tensing at the intrusion.  Bucky stopped and began sucking at her breasts again, distracting from the pain and pressure.  As he worked her into another pleasurable frenzy he would slowly inch forward, until he was fully sheathed inside of her.  Y/N appreciated him going slow, letting her adjust to him, and when he was all the way in she sighed.

“It feels…so full…” Y/N said dreamily.  The fullness was making her feel delirious, like she had been missing something she didn’t know was a possibility.  If it always felt this good she wanted him inside at all times.

“So tight, Asynja.  Ah,” he gasped as her pussy fluttered around him.  “Gods, you feel so good…so right,” Bucky slowly pulled back then pushed forwards, letting her feel every part of him.  Her hips trembled again, her legs wrapping around his hips as he continued to thrust in and out of her.  She looked down at where they were joined, watching him move in and out of her, the sight making her whine deep in her throat.  Bucky moaned at the noise she made, pulling her head up with his hand and kissing her passionately.  As their tongues entangled his hips started moving faster, making her gasp against his mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head.  “Feel good, my Drottning?  You beautiful, powerful, strong woman…destined for me,” he whispered against her ear as his head dropped into the crook of her neck.  He thrust harder into her, making her fingers dig into his back.  “Mine,” he nearly growled as his hips rolled.  

Y/N felt a heady drunkenness setting into her mind, her head feeling foggy as the pleasure took over all of her senses.  She felt herself nodding as he claimed her.  “Yours,” she babbled,  whimpering with each hard thrust as the tension built again deep in her core.  “Your Drottning…your Asynja…my Bucky…”  Bucky suddenly hauled himself up, holding her against him so that he was thrusting up into her.  The angle made her yelp as he felt even deeper than before.

“That’s right, you're mine…I’m yours…Y/N Astrid, my star,” he pulled her down onto him as he thrust upwards.

The snap was unexpected and even more tightly wound this time, so much so that when Y/N screamed his name it reverberated through the temple.  She clung to him as her entire body tensed and she gushed around him.  Her pussy squeezed him like a vice and he shouted as he finished inside of her.  Y/N could feel him filling her up and it prolonged her shaking around him as she whimpered with each shock she felt spread from her pussy.  Bucky fell to the bed, stopping himself from crushing her at the last second.  They lay together, sweaty and exhausted as they came down from the high.  

Bucky turned his head and kissed Y/N’s cheek softly.  She smiled, her tired eyes blinking slowly at him as he rubbed his nose against hers.  “I think we’re pretty good at this,” he huffed out a laugh.  Y/N giggled, then groaned as Bucky slid his cock out of her, making him hiss.  He lay next to her as they both stared up at the ceiling.  Y/N felt around for his hand and laced her fingers in his.  Bucky smiled widely at the gesture.

Just as Y/N was on the brink of falling asleep she felt a fur being draped over her and a kiss to her forehead.  She smiled dreamily and snuggled close to Bucky’s warmth.  She had done it.  Married the supposed enemy, created an alliance that brought peace to his and her people, and found a new home that was accepting of her and the magic she possessed.  She missed Alfie terribly, but hoped that in due time, if her ability had shown her correctly, he would be alright and become the great king he was destined to be.

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr

[panicinthestudio]

Disk Brooch, early 600s

Anglo-Saxon

Made in Faversham, England

Gold with garnets, glass, and niello

Overall: 1 7/8 x 7/16 x 1/16 in. (4.7 x 1.1 x 0.2 cm)

The region of Kent, in southeastern England, was an important center of Anglo-Saxon jewelry production of the type represented by this delicate, brightly colored piece. The interlace patterns created by gold filigree and the polished garnets reflect the high quality of goods worn by individuals in life and later buried with them.

Collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art

[triste-guillotine]

FOREFATHER "Ours is the Kingdom" CD 2004 ('...In this wood my spirit shall stay, until time will take this forest away')

"Our hearts lie not in heaven Nor Eastern desert sands With eyes closed to your saviour Our fate is in our hands Great glass eyes look down on me So lofty and so great In your world we are filth Toys of your lord to dominate

High spires reach for Dunor's sky A Misfit court of stone Like flame upon the water It stands there all alone You say our ways are evil That devils seed we sow Yet we have greater wisdom Than you will ever know

Your lodging here is ended Your welcome here is ceased No honour left bestowed Our open hand now Iron fist Ours is the kingdom On up high, on sea In Jest we let you play But now is our time for victory

The storm is ever brewing A power rising fast Lightning strikes our veins As we see the bridge at last

As we ride the endless The truths seem only lies The few that faced the fire Honoured as the kings Now we ride the deathless Our kingdom has returned Of fallen Kings and heroes Our Children now have learned..."

Ours is the Kingdom | Forefather (bandcamp.com)

[blueiscoool]

Missing Pieces of 6th-Century Byzantine Bucket Finally Found at Sutton Hoo

While working at the Anglo-Saxon site of Sutton Hoo in England, archaeologists found the missing pieces of a 1,500-year-old copper bucket imported from Turkey. The bucket, which is at least a century older than the famed ship burial, may provide a window into how people lived in early medieval times.

A team of archaeologists, conservators and volunteers from Time Team, the U.K.'s National Trust and FAS Heritage discovered the metal fragments in late June during excavation and metal-detecting work at Sutton Hoo.

Sutton Hoo is best known for its magnificent seventh-century ship burial, whose 1939 discovery was featured in the 2021 movie "The Dig." But the burial was just one part of a complex of 18 separate burial mounds found near Suffolk in southeastern England, many of which contained jewelry and coins. Evidence of imported goods — including an Egyptian bowl, Eastern Mediterranean silverware and a Middle Eastern petroleum product called bitumen — has also been discovered at Sutton Hoo.

But the copper-alloy bucket, known as the Bromeswell Bucket, predates the ship burial by at least a century. The fragmented bucket, which was found in 1986, depicts a North African hunting scene featuring lions and a dog. It was likely produced in the sixth century in Antioch, Turkey, which was then part of the Byzantine Empire. An inscription in Greek on the bucket reads, "Use this in good health, Master Count, for many happy years," suggesting that it may have been a diplomatic gift.

The artifacts uncovered last month were decorated with figures similar to those on the original find. So the team employed X-ray fluorescence (XRF) — which is used to determine which elements are present in an object and to create a unique elemental "fingerprint" of the artifact — to confirm that the newly recovered fragments are indeed part of the sixth-century Bromeswell Bucket.

"Thanks to closer inspection, we now believe that the bucket had been previously damaged and then repaired," Angus Wainwright, a regional archaeologist in the East of England for the National Trust, said in a statement. "In-depth analysis of the metals suggests it might even have been soldered back together."

Although East Anglia has been occupied since at least 3000 B.C., when Sutton Hoo was in use as a cemetery in the sixth and seventh centuries, the area was relatively densely populated and part of a busy trade network. The Sutton Hoo treasures represent diverse objects, including pagan and Christian artifacts, brought there from all over Europe and the Middle East. The ship burial and cosmopolitan nature of Sutton Hoo may even link it to the Old English epic poem Beowulf, which includes tales of gift-bestowing kings from far-flung lands and was composed around the same time.

"It's hoped that this two-year research project will help us learn more about the wider landscape at Sutton Hoo and the everyday lives of the people that lived there," Wainwright said. "So, this find is a great step on that journey."

By Kristina Killgrove.

[4-arab-gay-slave-fantasy]

My Summer Internship.

Under Master Abdul

Skiviesman@aol.com

CHAPTER 1

8:00 pm on a Friday. It's true that being a litigation summer associate at a large law firm is generally an easy gig, but sometimes stuff has to be done. Better reflection of real lawyer life, I suppose. I finally shut my computer and got ready to head out.

My name is John. I'm 25, just finished my second year of law school in Athens at the University of Georgia, and interning in a large Atlanta firm for the summer. I grew up and went to college and law school in Georgia.

I'm 5'6”, about 150 pounds, with straight, short brown hair and brown eyes. Thanks to my Anglo—Saxon ancestry I have a naturally smooth torso. I have a fairly average to below average cut 5 inch cock. I'm gay, and openly so, but not very experienced. I've bottomed a couple of times, and generally have no interest in topping.

I walked to a nearby gym where I liked to work out. I used to be a soccer player through high school, but I was intrigued to find out that there was a gym with exercise equipment in the downtown area. I discovered there was one immediately next to the building where I work. The gym tended to close early on Fridays so it was pretty dead. There was just one guy there, manning the front desk. His name was Jake, and he was the evening manager. He was 6 feet even, 180 pounds, brown hair, and green eyes, with a trim build. No indication he was anything other than straight, which was a shame. He wasn't exactly a genius, but he was nice enough.

I smiled and flashed my gym card. As I ruffled through my bag, I was dismayed - I forgot my gym clothes! I looked at Jake, and asked, "Hey - I forgot my gym clothes. Do you have any I can buy and use?"

"Sorry, no," he said. "We just ran out of stock and I forgot to order new ones, so we won't have any until next week."

"No problem," I responded. "Hmm, any chance you'll let me workout in my boxer briefs, socks, and undershirt? I'd just hate to have to go home to grab my gym stuff - it's a good thirty minutes away. Plus, I was going to use the gymnastics stuff, anyway - no need for gym shoes."

"I don't know about that," he said. "The gym is pretty strict about not using underwear in the gym." He pulled out the manual and looked at the rules. "Undershirts, underwear, and socks are all off-limits. You can't work out in those."

"Damn it!" I was frustrated. "Any workarounds we can do?"

Jake read further. "So, it technically says: you can't wear underwear as your outermost clothes on the gym floor. But, you just need to have a collar and cover your male private parts. And, no pubic hair is allowed to touch the equipment. I think I saw something that might work..."

I was perplexed, but the gym was empty and I wasn't going to miss this chance. "What do you have?"

He looked in a lost and found box. "I think these two could technically work." He fished out a thick, black, leather dog collar - big enough for a fairly large dog. "This could fit around your neck, I guess."

"So I'd wear my undershirt with a dog collar?" I asked. I was a little confused, and to be honest, a little turned on - I hadn't really done a lot of BDSM play but I was intrigued.

"Well, no," he answered. "Just the collar. No undershirts, remember? But there isn't really a rule against being shirtless as long as you have a collar..."

"OK," I answered. "But what about the rest?"

He fished out a silver metal chastity device, still in its box. "Looks like someone left it here. It might be small. But, the book only says your penis must be covered. Nothing about balls or ass..." he mused.

At this point I was terrified but also very turned on. "I think it'll fit. So I just need to wear this collar and this chastity device. Is that it?"

"Hmm, maybe one more thing," Jake began. "No pubic hair. Think you can use this hair removal cream?"

I was so turned on at this point. I nodded. "OK," he said, "you can go in the locker room and get ready. I can take that key," he gestured towards the chastity device.

I headed off to the empty locker room and stripped naked. I put my clothes on the bench and stared at my naked self in the mirror.

Just then, Jake walked in. "Hey man, sorry, I was about to take a piss. Hey, need some help with the hair removal cream?" I nodded in a daze. He rubbed it on my cock and balls and my asshole. "Should we do your pits

and legs too? I guess they technically come around puberty, right?" I was not in a position to object, so he did it. I was hairless from the neck down.

My hard dick would have to go down in order to fit in the device, even though I was smaller than average. I thought about some un-sexy thoughts uand finally got it in. The steel coldly but firmly kept my persistently

stiffening dick in check.

Jake then put the collar around my neck and tightened it so it was firm but not strangling me. "How's that?" he asked. "Good" was all I was able to sputter out.

"All right, then. Enjoy!" Jake smiled and waved as he headed out.

I stepped into the exercise room, naked except for a collar and a locked cock, my dick straining against the steel and dripping pre-cum. I felt the cool breeze of the Air Conditioner and went off to hit the exercise equipment when I noticed the gymnastic equipment. I was interested since watching the recent Olympics and wanted to try on them. There was the rings, the pommel horse and the female event parallel bars and balance beam.. I felt exposed and turned on, even though no one was there. I was humiliated but also horny as fuck.

I imagined people watching me, eying my naked body. Watching my smooth, muscular frame. I wondered if people would lust after me as I held a handstand. I spread my legs in mid-air and felt the cool air on my exposed asshole. My dick throbbed in its cage.

I wondered if men would look at my smaller than average cock cage and wonder how small I must be in order to fit in there. I was humiliated, but turned on. The idea of critical eyes looking at my body and evaluating

how it did - and did not - measure up.

I thought about how smooth my torso already was naturally, due to my background, but how much more boyish my body looked without pubic hair, armpit hair, and even leg hair. I wondered if men would deride me as a lesser man. Would they think of me as a weak boy. Was I a boy who deserved to wear a collar and be locked away, for real men to teach and play with. I thought of all the men fully dressed, and how much shorter I would look standing in bare feet. I felt vulnerable and exposed, but that only made me hornier. An hour and a half must have gone by. I heard the maintenance folks go into the locker room and leave. I was about to head back to the locker room when I heard a male voice. "John?" I turned around and my heart dropped.

===================

CHAPTER 2

Standing there were four full-time corporate associates at my law firm; all of them were dressed in work clothes, and had their gym bags with them. I didn't work with them, since I was in a different practice group, but I knew them all since they were friendly folks and worked a lot with the summer program. I forgot that this gym had a basketball court, and that these guys liked to play 2 on 2 after work on Fridays.

ABDUL- was an Arab corporate associate - he had been with the firm for many year. After having moved

from his home in Saudi Arabia to attend law school in the Atlanta area he had decided to stay in the area to live and work. He was a young 49 years old. A dark masculine guy who was an avid gym goer. He stood 6’4” had short dark black hair. On his face he seemed to have constant heavy 5:00 shadow no matter how much he shaved, dark eyes, a vivid white smile which gave him the appearance of enjoying life but at the same time had an imposing, almost threatening demeanor that was animal like. He was a natural leader of men.

PHIL - the guy who spoke - was a 32 year old corporate senior associate. He had played lacrosse at university and was still a generally muscular, if a little less rock hard, 6’ tall. He was pale and had fiery red hair and blue eyes. He had a bit of a southern accent as he had grown up in North Carolina.

MIKE was a lawyer in our international arbitration group. He was married - he met his wife at the law firm when they were summer interns years ago- and had a bit of a beer belly, but was a handsome guy. A little bit of dark chest hair poked out of his shirt. He was also 32 years old, 6 feet 2 inches tall, had brown hair that was between wavy and curly, and dark eyes. Belying his New England roots, Mike was always seen wearing boat shoes around the office - luckily, not a big issue at the firm, since it wasn't one of the really stuffy ones.

Finally, ANDY was a soft spoken guy who worked in tax. I had heard he was engaged to a woman he clerked with for a judge the year before. He was 30 years old, had curly brown hair, green eyes, and wore glasses. Andy was more of a co-rec sports guy in college - somewhat fit, but never really jacked. He was the shortest in the group at 5 foot 10, but still noticeably taller than me.

"Hey guys," I responded. "It's not what you think -"

"No worries, "Abdul said. "We used to joke that the rules for what you can and can't wear had some weird exceptions. But I guess those exceptions are real!" He quipped. All four laughed, and I laughed uneasily along with them.

The four guys approached and I began to feel more comfortable. "Don't even worry about it," Andy said. "We're not telling anyone at the firm. You do you!"

We chatted a little bit about how the summer was going. Like I said, these guys were nice and friendly, and I didn't feel threatened. I felt more and more at ease as we continued the small talk.

"I can't help noticing," Mike started, "how smooth you are. Are you naturally so smooth?"

"Not really," I said, "they have that rule about pubic hair and all, so I used hair removal cream on it."

"Can I feel?" Peter asked. It seemed like a weird request, but like I said, I was getting more comfortable. "Sure," I said. Peter ran his hands on my chest. I shivered a little bit.

The four guys began getting a little more comfortable about it. "OK if I feel your pits?" Abdul asked. I nodded. "Can you put your hands behind your head?" I complied. "They're so smooth," he murmured as his rough hands grazed my exposed armpits.

Mike looked at Andy and asked, "I wonder how smooth his dick and balls feel." Andy responded, "go ahead, he doesn't seem to mind." Mike held my cock and balls, feeling the bare skin. No one even asked me at that point. It was humiliating but kind of exhilarating, like I wasn't even there. I was just being inspected by these men.

Peter touched my nipples, and they firmed up. "Perky!" he exclaimed. The guys laughed. I gave a small smile.

Without saying anything, Andy knelt down and gently touched my ass cheeks. "Can you spread your legs a bit?" I did. He spread my ass and touched my asshole. "This is definitely smoother than mine," he observed.

The guys chuckled.

"This is alright, right?" Peter asked. I nodded. "I guess you're pretty much naked and exposed anyway, right?" I looked at the floor in shame. "Nothing to worry about," Andy chimed in. "It's just like biology class, looking at a body that is so different than ours." The other guys expressed their agreement.

Mike looked at Peter. "This cage is pretty small, but looks like it fits him." Peter nodded. "Definitely smaller than me." Andy and Ryan agreed. "How big is it," Mike asked, holding my cock cage and looking at Peter

and Ryan, not even looking at me. "Um, 5 inches when hard, I think." "Yeah, that's smaller," Mike said. I was humiliated. But why was I enjoying it so much at the same time?

Abdul looked down at my dick in his hand and noticed I was leaking quite a bit of precum. "Looks like you're a little turned on!" The other guys laughed. I reddened and sheepishly nodded. "Happens to all of us. But now, my hand is a little...sticky."

"Oh, and it's getting on the floor too," Andy chimed in, standing up after prodding my asshole for a couple of minutes. "I think the cleaning staff has left for the night though."

Peter looked around. "I don't see any cleaning tools. We should probably clean that up though."

Out of nowhere, I blurted out, "I guess I could lick it up?" The other guys were stunned. Mike broke the silence: "yeah, makes sense. It's your mess, anyway. Go ahead."

I knelt on the ground and licked the pre cum. I looked up and saw Abdul's hand also with a little pre-cum. "Would you like me to clean that up as well, Abdul ?" A small smile spread on his face. "Yeah, please." I licked

the pre-cum off the palm of his hand. I heard Andy nearby say, "that's so humiliating." Peter agreed, "yeah, but he's gotta clean it up, right?"

I stood up. "Well, we should probably get going," Peter said. "Off to Abdul 's to play some poker. You take it easy, John!" I nodded and waved as they walked away chatting amongst themselves.

I headed to the locker room and made a horrible realization. My clothes were gone! The maintenance folks must have taken them. Also gone was the key. A post-it note was left on the desk, which stated: "put in lost-and-found, pick up on Monday." The gym was closed for the weekend, and the staff wouldn't back for a couple of days!

I frantically looked around, wondering what my next move would be. I was stuck in nothing but a collar and a chastity device! What was I going to do?

=================

CHAPTER 3

Not really knowing what to do, I started after the four men, who were just leaving. "Hey, wait up!"

Phil looked back. "What's up, buddy?"

"I'm kind of in a pickle," I began. "My clothes are gone, and looks like the staff is gone for the weekend. Any chance you guys could lend me some clothes?"

The four looked at each other. "I don't know," Mike said. "All my gym clothes are sweaty, and they're too big for you anyway. You'd look ridiculous in them." The others nodded in assent.

"Wait," Abdul said. "We can't leave him here, though. Maybe we bring him to my place, we were going there to play poker anyway." "Sounds like a good idea," Phil responded. "But should we check with the guard of the parking garage in the building? Might look a little suspicious having this little guy walking around pretty much naked." Phil flicked my cock cage, and it bounced up and hit my abdomen. The guys laughed, and Andy patted my ass. I shivered gave a shy smile.

"I'll go talk to him," Mike said, and he walked off to find the night guard. While waiting, the rest of the guys conversed about work without me. I stood there naked, ignored, like I wasn't even present.

A minute later, Mike came back with a middle-aged white man in his 40s, with a scruffy red beard and a satchel in tow. "This must be the guy," he mused, and the four associates burst into laughter. "Well, I can release him into your custody, but he's clearly got a penchant for trouble, so you'll need to make sure you can control him."

Control? Custody? Those words struck me as odd, since it wasn't like I belonged to the four guys, or anything. But that stirred something in me. My cock swelled up and my nipples perked up. I felt a little pre-cum flow once again.

The guard rummaged around in his bag. "Someone left this dog leash, but I think it should work with the collar. Just to make sure he doesn't go anywhere." He handed it to Abdul, who attached it to my collar. I was a little shocked but said nothing. "You probably don't want him running off," the guard continued. Abdul gave the leash a hard tug, which jostled me off my balance, and everyone laughed again. "He's not going anywhere

I won't let him," Abdul declared.

The guard looked in his bag some more. "You probably don't want him distracted either. How about this blindfold?" Phil agreed. "He's already very stimulated by the whole situation." He placed the blindfold on me and I could not see at all through the thick leather blindfold."

"One last thing," the guard said. "He's probably a little freaked out, and probably would be better if kept it shut."

I heard some movement, and felt two rough hands hold open my mouth. A clean, leather bit was inserted in my mouth and locked around my head. I could no longer see or speak. But for some reason, it only turned me on more.

"I think that's it!" I heard the guard conclude. "Hope you enjoy this boy and he gives you no more trouble."

"Thanks, man," Abdul said in his deep Arab accent spoke, as the guard's footsteps indicated he was walking off. "Let's go, boy. Gotta get to the poker game." With nothing else to do, I followed as they tugged me along. The four associates continued to talk as if I wasn't there. I wondered where the night would take me.

==============

CHAPTER 4

I couldn't see, but I could hear and feel as the four associates led me through the underground parking garage of our building. I didn't hear many cars or people, so it must have been pretty empty. Made sense, since it was late on a Friday in the business district, so it was pretty dead. We stopped and I heard Abdul say: "here's the car, hop in!"

There was a pause. Mike asked, "where do we put him? I don't think you want his bare ass messing up your precious leather seats?" All laughed. "I guess not," Ryan started. "But can we just put him in the cargo hold

of my Escalade, all trussed up like that?"

"Wait," Peter responded. "I just dropped off my dog at my parents' house last weekend. I think I still have the pet carrier in the back. I was planning just to leave my car here until Monday since parking is free over the weekend. How about that?" The guys murmured in agreement.

I felt a wave of humiliation as I heard them get the dog cage and herded me in the back. I heard the trunk door close and the car start. I had never felt so humiliated, so mistreated. And yet, my cock had never been harder. I could feel pre-cum dribbling out, even though I couldn't see it. All of this, of course, was restricting my cock keeping me from getting fully erect.

After about half an hour - although it felt like eternity - we arrived at a swanky apartment building. I heard the guys get out and Abdul hand his key to the valet. "We've got some cargo in the back," I heard him say. "Could you bring it through the loading dock and have them bring it up to my room?"

"Sure thing, sir," I heard the valet respond. The car moved again, this time with me and just the valet. I heard him whistling as he drove into the parking garage.

The car stopped, and I heard the guy get out and open the trunk. I heard him chuckle. "What do we have here?" I heard the valet yell out, "hey guys, here's a delivery for 1007." Two guys came by and lifted my cage out. "Nice," I heard one of them say.

"You know the drill," I heard the other start. "Need to make sure they aren't hiding any contraband here." I felt the two men's hairy hands probe my asshole, jiggle my cage, and feel around my mouth through my gag. "Nothing here, but this asshole will probably be full by the night," the other said.

They opened the cage and yanked me out by the collar, and brought me to attention. I could not see anything but I knew there were several men around me Again talking like I wasn't there, I heard the first one say "bring this to 1007 using the service elevator. Make sure to bring it to the back entrance, wouldn't want to scandalize the neighbors." The other guy led me by the leash through what i assumed was the hall to a service elevator. As the elevator started moving, I heard him say, "you're in for quite the time, kid." He laughed.

The elevator stopped and he tugged on my leash for me to move forward. I heard a door open and felt him latch my leash to a hook somewhere. He forced me to kneel where I was standing. He started scratching behind my ears like I was a puppy "Wait here for them to pick you up. Maybe your new Master will have me take you out when you need walkies to do your business" the man said. I heard him laugh as I heard him shut the door and walk away.

After five minutes, I heard a different door in front of me open. “Our delivery is here!" I heard Andy say. He unhooked my leash and tugged me forward. I felt Phil's hands unhook my blindfold and gag. The light of the apartment was blinding as I was finally able to see for the first time in about an hour.

====================

CHAPTER 5

I could see that I was in ABDUL's dining room. Ryan and Andy were seated and chatting as Ryan shuffled a deck of cards, and Andy opened a case of poker chips. Phil smiled as he set down the blindfold and gag. "Sorry about that," he said. "The guard was right, wouldn't want you freaking out or running off in this state. Probably the best that we kept you in check."

"Yeah, no worries," I responded. "Never done that before, but I didn't mind."

"The pre-cum did suggest that!" Ryan mused from the table. The three guys laughed raucously. I felt my cheeks burning. They weren't wrong - it was a foreign feeling, and I felt a rush during the whole experience, but I didn't hate it. I was turned on the entire time.

"Speaking of which," Abdul noted, "looks like you're leaking a bit again."

He looked down at the floor as pre-cum leaked out of my caged dick onto the floor. "Any chance you can clean that up? My hardwood floors are certainly cleaner than that gym floor." He was right, I suppose - I knelt down and licked up the pre-cum.

"Good boy!" Andy exclaimed.

I heard a toilet flush from a nearby door and Mike walked out, zipping up his pants. He smiled as he saw me. "John is here!"

I suddenly became very aware that I alone was naked, except for a dog collar and a chastity device. "Hey, Abdul," I started. "Any chance you have any clothes I can borrow while I'm here?"

Abdul started to respond, but Andy called out from the table, "everything Abdul has is going to be too big on you. Plus, just us guys, right?" The others nodded in agreement. "I suppose that's right," Abdul said. "Plus,

it isn't too cold in here, is it?" I shook my head.

"Then it's settled!" Mike concluded. "Come join us at the table!"

I started towards the table to take a seat, but Ryan interrupted: "Hold on, Abdul, these chairs are really nice, very expensive. Wouldn't want to ruin your purchase from your last bonus, would you? The boy's sweaty ass and balls wouldn't do great things to these chairs." The group laughed.

Abdul turned to me. "Is that OK? Perhaps you can just stand right next to this table?" I shrugged. "I don't mind, all I do is sit at a desk anyway." "Great," Abdul acknowledged.

The guys played a first game. Mike won that one. The guys groaned as they handed him their chips. "Great start, I need a beer now!" Mike proclaimed, as he stood up towards the kitchen. "No, I can grab it," I blurted out. "Really?" he asked. "I don't mind, plus, I'm already standing." "Thanks, John!" Mike gleamed as I turned to grab a beer from the kitchen.

As I fumbled through the fridge and looked for a bottle opener, I overheard the guys talking, apparently not realizing I was in earshot. "Is it just me, or is it kind of hot to have a naked guy waiting on you and and foot?" Abdul said. "Yeah, I agree," Andy responded. "It's kind of hot that he’s a small southern white boy, I wouldn't really feel comfortable with that but he obviously is."

Mike responded, "yeah, I hear you. One, it's like you have a naked colleague in the room, and two, white guys are hairier, bigger, and have bigger dicks. Doesn't feel right having them serve you, and usually I don't get turned on seeing guys like me naked."

Abdul added, "Being an Arab it seems kind of historically right to have a white guy serve me, you know? Especially a southern guy. A form of ancestral karma. He is smaller, docile, and smooth. Plus, no question who's the superior man - you can see it in the classic signs of masculinity - our body hair, our larger dicks, et cetera."

I knew I should feel demeaned, but all I could feel was my dick struggling against its cage at hearing all this. I walked back to the dining room.

I handed Mike his beer as the guys chatted. "It's nice to have someone grab stuff from the kitchen for you," Mike said, as the others laughed. "Yeah, kind of like having a white slave boy," Andy added. Those words startled me, but in a good way - and perhaps in a visible way. "Seems like he likes it," Ryan said, pointing at my dick. It must have jumped a bit when Andy called me a slave boy.

Abdul turned to me. "Sorry about that, we're not meaning to offend you or anything. We don't want to make you uncomfortable. Guys, stop." The guys all murmured apologies. "No, not at all," I responded. "I don't mind. I kind of like it. I guess I'm a little submissive, and I like, well, serving bigger masculine guys."

The guys all looked at each other. "Are you sure?" Abdul asked. "Yes," I responded. I am here to serve my masters." The four looked at each other and smiled.

"Well then," Abdul started. "For the rest of your time here, you'll call us all 'master.'" "And," Andy added, "we will call you 'boy,' 'slave,' or really whatever we want." The others nodded.

"You'll wear just that collar and that chastity device," Ryan continued. "Nothing you can do until Monday anyway; Jake has the keys, and the gym doesn't reopen until then." The others laughed.

"What about a wager, then?" Mike started, looking to the other guys. They began to talk as if I wasn't there. "Tonight's poker prize is a small southern slave boy for the weekend - sharing encouraged." The group laughed. I sheepishly stared at my feet in the background. This was going to be a long weekend, and I was more turned on than ever.

===================

CHAPTER 6

Part 6

As the night went on, the four masters played a competitive series of poker games. It turns out all of them were equally good - or equally bad, or lucky. As midnight approached, all four were in spitting distance of winning.

For the most part, I was sent back and forth from the kitchen to grab food and drink. The masters didn't even look me in the eye; they simply called out instructions, like "Boy, I need a beer," or "Slave, my martini is empty."

In one exciting episode, Master Andy decided that we should order a pizza. When the delivery guy rang the doorbell, Master Abdul directed me to grab the pizza at the door. "But I'm not wearing real clothes..." I started. "And you shouldn't be," Master Abdul cut me off. "Slaves do not protest when their masters instruct them to do something. Get the pizza, boy."

I gulped and walked to the door. Upon opening it, the delivery guy - a young white guy probably 18 years or so -looked at me with wide eyes. I handed him the cash and took the pizza. I realized Master Andy had forgotten the tip. "Excuse me," I said, "I need to grab the tip."

I walked back in and asked Master Abdul for the tip. He pulled out some cash, but a smile crossed his face. "I'll walk back with you, boy," he answered. He attached my leash to my collar and led me to the door.

Master Abdul handed the delivery guy the tip. He also handed the guy the leash. "Would you like to use our slave boy for 10 minutes? No permanent damage to the property, but you can use him for some fun." He gestured to a guest bedroom off to the side of the entryway. The delivery boy nodded. Master Abdul smiled. "Make him lock the door, wash up, and head back in when you're done."

The delivery boy pulled me in by the leash and pushed me down to my knees, swiftly and hard. "Unzip me, slave," he said in a harsh but hushed tone, nervous that he would disturb the audible party going on. I pulled

out a thick 7-inch cock, pale with a bright pink head. "Suck me off," he demanded. I choked as I slowly tried to get the whole thing down my throat. He grabbed my ears and fucked my mouth roughly for a few minutes.

I gagged and slobbered all the way through, until he shot his no load, emitting a moan. The moan was apparently a little louder than expected, as I heard the masters cheer from the other room.

The delivery guy smiled. "You better not let a drop spill out," he warned, as he buttoned his pants and walked out. I cleaned up and locked up as he left.

As I walked back to the room, Master Ryan said, "good job boy. Nice to know you have some oral skills." The group burst into raucous laughter. "Why don't you get us some more snacks and beer?" Master Mike commanded.

As I was getting together food and drink for the masters, I heard their conversation, and at multiple times felt my dick struggle against its cage:

***

MASTER ABDUL: I could really get used to having a slave boy. Somewhere down my family line, we owned slaves. Something idyllic about that, even though it's not legal anymore.

MASTER MIKE: There is something natural about it. Seems natural that white men like us take charge. Plus, I can't help but notice that the slave looks more natural naked, locked, and collared.

MASTER ABDUL: He did take those things pretty well - almost like it was second nature to him.

MASTER ANDY: In a way we did him a favor, right? He seems to have taken well to it, and it does indeed seem like the natural scheme of things.

MASTER MIKE: So boys, what are your plans for the slave if you win tonight? All of us seem well poised to do so.

MASTER ANDY: My fiancé is away for a work trip, so I could really use a slave to take out my sexual frustrations. Truth be told, I'm getting a little hard thinking about it

(others laugh).

MASTER ANDY: I would just use all of his holes - I have only done anal once, and it was amazing, but my fiancée doesn't do it. So yeah, just tie him somewhere and fuck him every which way.

MASTER ABDUL: It's nice when you don't have to worry about consent.

MASTER RYAN: Well, slaves can't consent, right? That's the whole point about being a slave.

MASTER ANDY: Exactly. It's nice to worry just about your pleasure and not have to think about whether you're hurting someone else for a change.

MASTER MIKE: I take it you like doing it rough?

MASTER ANDY: Rougher than my fiancée would like

(others laugh).

MASTER PHIL: I, for one, am going back to my college to meet up with other members of the lacrosse team. I would love to offer them a slave boy for the overnight.

MASTER RYAN: That poor boy - he'll be destroyed by all of those players.

MASTER PHIL: Haha, probably. Some of those guys are twisted. I think one of them might fuck him in the ass with a lacrosse stick or something.

MASTER ANDY: Well that will be something - either a sex slave for me or a house slave for a bunch of lacrosse guys. What else - Mike, Ryan?

MASTER MIKE: I used to make performance art pieces with human elements, and had this idea for one called "Colonization." My idea was to have a man - be shackled in a cage with a bit in his mouth, a cage on his dick, and a dildo stuck up his ass. The dildo would be remote controlled, and viewers can change the settings in intensity. They could also reach through the cage and touch the man, grab his nipples, etc. Well, if I had a slave boy, I wouldn't need to convince anyone to do that.

MASTER ANDY: That does sound hot. If laws weren't laws, you could even sell the art to a wealthy buyer.

MASTER MIKE: Don't get me started; one of the downsides of performance art

(others laugh).

MASTER MIKE: Maybe things could change anyway. Ryan?

MASTER ABDUL: I'm more old school, I guess. I long for the days when we had slaves in the fields doing our work. I have a large farm here in rural Georgia; I would take the slave there and work in the fields. I do have other workers there; maybe they'll get some more ideas.

MASTER PHIL: Maybe - like they'll use the slave boy for his holes? Or realize they wouldn't mind also being naked slaves to a white master?

MASTER ABDUL:: The possibilities are endless!

(others laugh)

MASTER ABDUL: Perhaps even put a bridle on him and make him pull me around like a pony slave.

***

I was more turned on than before as I walked back in. "You've got an interesting future, boy," Master Andy said. "And it all depends on this final hand." I gulped.

As the game wound down, one of the masters dropped his cards, and won the wager.

=================

CHAPTER 7

They say “to the winner belongs the spoils.” Now I knew it was true.

I could hear people milling around me but I couldn't see them through the leather blindfold covering my eyes. I heard waiters passing around hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne while male voices murmured in the background.

"It's vulgar, isn't it? An attempt to shock the audience?"

"Is it? I think it almost feels at home, familiar. Like it was meant to be. This beautiful, slight, body chained, immobile, subject to whatever men want to do with it."

"I suppose so. I can pinch this dark nipple and he is powerless to do anything." I felt a sharp pinch on my left nipple and couldn't help myself; I flinched and winced, but the handcuffs and humbler around my legs and chained to the ground didn't let me go that far.

"Interesting you say," another voice said. "I see it as an artwork, an object. Yes, there is what looks like a human as a part of it, but the human has become part of the piece." I heard others murmur in the background in agreement. I felt my cock stiffen in the chastity cage.

"Look, it is leaking precum!" yet another voice said. "I think it feels at home in this position."

"Have you seen the interactive part yet?" I heard a familiar voice say. It was Master Phil. "No," responded another man, as I felt his rough hands touch my stomach. "I thought touching the artwork was interactive enough!" A group of men laughed nearby.

Just at that moment, I felt the dildo in my ass start to pulsate. I couldn't help myself as a moan escaped my throat - although it was muffled by the bit in my mouth. The audience heard the vibrating sound and I heard a few chuckles.

"There is a vibrator in the ass that can be controlled by the audience," Master Phil stated. "Interestingly, it's in another room of the gallery. You might have confused it for a thermostat or something, but if you look closely, it's labeled 'intensity' and goes from off to low to high. Part of the artist's messaging. Ah, here he comes now," I heard Phil say, as I heard footsteps. The group murmured and clapped.

"Thank you all for coming," I heard Master Mike say. "I heard Phil talking about the control in the other room. I think of it as a symbolizing white men's control over all bodies from a distant Western metropole, without them even knowing what is really going on."

"Powerful," I heard one man say. "Indeed - and both as symbolism, and as indicating the white male art patron's control over the art piece." Another responded.

"Is that why all of the patrons here, and even the staff, are white men?" Asked an inquisitive member. "Yes, that's right," Master Mike said.

"It also makes sense to me that you used a white human body. And one that is short, and not well endowed," stated another viewer. "It feels right that this human is part of the art piece, controlled by white men. A stronger, more muscular, taller, white man would not fit the bill." The comment garnered much agreement from other viewers.

"I'm glad the message came through," Master Mike said. "Now, please, enjoy yourselves, interact with the artwork." I heard applause as the crowd returned to chatting, eating and drinking, and playing with my body. I felt the vibrator start pulsing intensely. The pleasure was quite intense, and I felt my body sweating.

My sense of time was a little warped, but I knew it was Saturday – the day after the poker game. I had been there for several hours now. Before I was put into place, I was given a medication that kept me hydrated, and

preventing me from needing to use the bathroom for 48 hours. That would span the weekend - and the time Master Mike got to own me after winning.

"It's a beautiful piece," I heard a man say to Master Mike. "Are you looking to sell it?"

"You know, I hadn't thought about it," I heard Master Mike say, "but the offer sure is tempting."

"My name is David Andrews," the man said. "I'm a connoisseur of sorts in the colonial art space. Most of my collection is historical artifacts, but this would be a lovely addition to my gallery in the UK."

"Is it in London?" I heard Master Ryan say. "No," Mr. Andrews responded. "I don't think folks in London would go for this." I heard a small group of men laugh. "I have an estate in the country, members only, for men who appreciate art hearkening back to colonial days."

"How would you even ship the art?" I heard Master Andy ask. "Well," Mr. Andrews answered, "it would have to go through customs and I'd need to ship it either private or via one of the big shipping companies. And I would probably let the officials in charge have a little fun with the art

piece as a thank you."

"Interesting; I've never thought of being able to sell a performance art piece," I heard Master Mike say. "Well, yes, do you have the title to it? You can register any piece of art as property," I heard another man say. "I'm Brian Windgate," the man introduced himself. "I'd be interested in purchasing the piece for display in my private home. And I would use the human piece for my own pleasure use as well. It will be nice to have a human object I own legally."

"Now wait a minute," I heard Master Abdul say. "I'd like a chance to throw my hat in the ring; I do have quite a bit of money in my trust fund. I could still use a field slave."

"Isn't this getting a little out of hand?" I heard Master Andy whisper to Masters Phil and Mike. "I mean, didn't we only win John for the weekend?"

"I'm not sure he can do anything about it," Master Phil said. "Yeah, and by the looks of all that leaking pre-cum, he doesn't seem to mind," Master Mike said in jest. "Well, that or someone is really turning up the intensity." The three laughed.

And honestly? To me, it was a little of both. I wondered what would happen as I remained immobile, unable to see or speak, and incredibly turned on.

=====================

CHAPTER 8

I could smell freshly cut grass in the air as I tugged the cart behind me. With blinders on, a bit in my mouth, and my cock locked, I could not see, but I could feel Master Abdul tug to tell me to change directions. Next to me, I could feel another man tugging the cart as well.

I should explain. Master Abdul did end up taking me after my stint as an art installation. The guys decided that it would be too risky to let me out of their group, just in case some of the other men at the art gallery got a little too creative. I was brought to Master Abdul’s expansive farm in North Georgia, where I met his three farm hands - Jose, a muscular 6 foot tall 30 year old single Mexican man with Native American blood: Pierre, a 6 foot

5 tall absolute tank of a man with dark black skin from Senegal; and

Karim, a hairy, 5 foot 10 recent immigrant from Syria.

The three men were surprised when I walked in wearing nothing but a collar and a chastity device. They weren't slaves, so Master Abdul simply told them I was a new addition to their work team to help prep the farm for an evening with Masters Andy, Phil, and Mike. They shrugged and we all went off to do chores around the field.

The men were curious and asked me why I would do something like this. I told them my story - which they all found funny - and how Master Abdul had won the right to own me that weekend.

"Do you like it?" Lupe inquired. "He seems to," Karim said, tapping my locked cock and noting my leaking dick after recounting my story.

"I was nervous at first," I said. "But Master Abdul and the other men just seemed so confident and like owning me felt natural." I smiled and noted the other men had grown significant bulges in their pants.

We continued to toil in the fields and the sun continued to rise in the sky. Soon, it was in the high 80s and everyone was sweating. Jose took off his shirt, revealing a smooth chest and a large tattoo on his right

pec. Soon, Karim and Pierre joined in. After a while, Pierre wondered aloud, "perhaps we should all strip? Would certainly save us having to wash all these clothes." The others agreed and soon we were all working

naked in the fields - with me of course wearing a collar and a lock on my cock.

About a half hour later, I heard Master Abdul calling out. "Hey! You can't all work naked here - what if someone catches you and you get in trouble for public indecency?"

"Sir, we were all just hot," Jose said. "Well, we have to cover you up a bit," Master Abdul said. "I have some collars and chastity device here if you wouldn't mind putting them on." The other guys looked at each other, but it looked like they had been thinking about it too.

Everyone else struggled to put the chastity devices, especially Pierre with his 11 inch thick monster, but Jose's 9 inch uncut cock and Karin's 8 inch circumcised dick also put up a fight. Everyone was clearly turned on and excited - sounds like it wasn't just my fantasy? After that, we all just started calling Master Abdul "sir" and "master" - it kind of felt right.

That evening, Master Andy noted that Master Abdul had somehow quadrupled his stable of slaves. The masters all laughed, as the four of us served drinks and served as footstools. Initially, it was just me who was stuck under the table sucking off each of the masters as they won games of poker. I went from Master Andy's 7 inch light pink uncut cock, to Master Phil's 8 inch thick dick, to Master Abdul 9 inches, to Master Mike's respectable 6 inch tan cock. I didn't think any of the other slaves to be interested in sexually servicing men, but they too joined in. It was especially humiliating to see Pierre service Master Mike, a man whose dick was literally half his size.

The word "stable" resonated with Master Phil, and there was a discussion of what Master Abdul could do with four slaves. In the end, the masters decided that Master Abdul could use two of us at a time as ponies, one as a house slave, and one as a sexual slave in the bedroom. "And perhaps I can loan them out to you once in a while," Master Abdul quipped.

That was about a month ago. I went back to the office that Monday, since Master Abdul knew I still had to finish my internship. But, the entire summer, I was to not wear an undershirt under my dress shirts, and to wear my chastity device at all times. I was also to stay at Master Abdul's farm with the other slaves on the weekend.

The rest of the slaves stayed permanent slaves; after all, they were previously just hired workers. But now, they lived in a stable during the summer and were owned by Master Abdul

As the summer ended, Master Abdul asked what I wanted to do after. "You'll get a return offer to join the firm, of course. But think about whether you've found something else you're more natural at."

I did get the return offer to return to the law firm.

I was hones with Master Abdul and he was honest and supportive of my needs,

With his guidance I was able I accepted the offer that was best for me.

The Offer Master Abdul made to me.

I am now Master Abdul’s legal Assistant. I live in his apartment as his “pet” slave during the week

Every Friday afternoon after work Master Abdul strips me, collars, me loads me into my dog carrier in the back of his car. Off we go to his farm where I eagerly get together with my fellow slave Jose, Karim, and Pierre

The four of us spend the entire weekend serving my legal associates Master Phil, Master Andy, Master Mike. And my life time master, Master Abdul.

[thekingofwinterblog]

Decline of the Avvar

So just a sad little thing I noticed from the Awakening DLC, is just how far the Avvar of the current Dragon age timeline has fallen back from their heighday when they were just as prominent in the Fertile valley as the chasind and the Alamarri(the people that won the war for the good land east of the Frostbacks, and became the Fereldens).

The Avvar are the Dragon Age's equivelant of the Norse, just like the Fereldens are the equivelant of the Anglo-Saxons and great britains Celts, if they had thriumphed over the invading normans, and reached the high middle ages as Britains dominant culture.

Only where the Fereldens despite their hardships were thriumphant, the Avvar instead is what the Norse would have become if they were defeated, displaced, and pushed further into the wilds by the people who took their lands.

They have become little more than barbarian Goat herders, raiders and hunters, living on what measle food they can produce through animal husbandry, hunting, and raiding. They fight with crude weapons, often stone hammers, or weapons clerly made from crude metal. The only real exception being their exceptional magical weapons of enchanted ice.

Their idea of heavy armor is leather, intervoven with simple metal plates intervowen with leather and furs, to varying degrees of effectiveness.

But it wasn't always this way.

In Awakening, we get a short glimpse of just how advanced the Avvar of that age actually was, and just how far north their traditional people once lived, having been the original masters of the lands around modern Vigil's keep.

They had full plate armor, advanced, enchanted swords, and was skilled enough in stone building that they constucted massive, stone mausoleums.

Either they forged these themselves, or as the designs imply, they traded these armaments from the Dwarves, but regardless, it speaks of a far richer, more advanced, and powerfull society than the current pockets of Avvar civilation left in the modern day.

It also highlights the fact that the "Barbarian Horde" of Holy warriors that Andraste led north to try and snuff out the Tevinter Imperium forever and end slavery, was a far, far cry from the way many people in universe tries to portray them as.

While they might not have been as rich as the Tevinter Imperium at it's height, these were powerful people in their own right, and no wonder is there that they fought the wretched Vints every, single stage of their expansion through Ferelden.

[merovingian-marvels]

Trossinger Leier

This is the most intact music instrument from the Germanic age ever found. The Trossinger Lyre is wonderfully preserved. The entire wooden frame is complete and plenty of carved decorations can be seen on the lyre.

The body of the instrument is made from maple wood, although oak, ash tree and combinations of those wood types were used. The English Prittlewell lyre was made from different wood types, damaged during its life and repaired with metal.

There is not one umbrella name for lyres of the Germanic age. Names such as “German, Viking, Anglo-Saxon, Germanic, … lyres” are all used for these instruments.

Although the modern word variations of lyre (English), lier (Dutch), leier (German), lyra (Swedish) all sound like they are derived from a common Indo-Germanic word stem, the classic tale of Beowulf names a “hearpe”, suggesting that they mean the same instrument we call harps now, but the description given in the saga is matching lyres instead of harps.

Around thirty lyres have been found all over northern and Western Europe in various styles of execution and level of preservation. Their height in popularity is dated around 650 AD.

Archäologischen Landesmuseums, Konstanz - Baden-Württemberg, Germany

Museum nr. Unknown

Found in Trossingen, Landkreises Tuttlingen, Schwarzwald-Baar-Heuberg, Baden-Württemberg, Germany