Tamerlane's Boys 7

By Pueros

Chapter 7 – Redress

(Sea of Azof, April 1390)

Vissarion and Arman were in the crowded hold of the Arab’s boat, full of furs and other goods from Rus, bartered for items brought from the ship captain’s distant Mediterranean homeland. The boys had had their clothes removed, their kidnapper intending to sell the very valuable garments, and the 13 years olds had been situated next to a wall. Their hands had been chained together and firmly fixed above them to rings solidly embedded in the wood. The lads’ feet had also been manacled.

Both Vissarion and Arman disliked being naked in front of others, apart from themselves and Tamerlane, an attitude fostered by attitudes common to their peoples, who considered such display very shameful. They especially hated being nude now for many of the largely black crew had come to ogle at their bare white 13 years old forms, although none dared risk the captain’s wrath by molesting the delectable creatures. The young Georgian was particularly embarrassed as he recognised, although he did not understand the men’s language, that many commented amongst themselves about his gelded genitals. His humiliation was compounded when some pointed at his groin and laughed. However, his young companion was discomforted even more by observing the Arab begin to ready, what looked like, an area in which to match the appearance of the young Armenian's smooth whole sexual organs to those of his friend.

The Arab had cleared a space on the hold floor nearby and had hammered four metal rings into the wood, at locations that would be appropriate for binding the hands and feet of a boy in order to spreadeagle him immovably. Arman’s deepest fears seemed to be confirmed when the ship captain then attached strong leather straps to the rings and placed a bowl, containing a small sharp knife and a long thin cord, in the middle of the now otherwise empty area. The young Armenian’s trepidation was not assuaged when the man had then departed, knowing that his abductor was probably now just waiting for his 13 years old body to be purged thoroughly before performing the emasculation. The lad knew that this should not take too long for both he and his friend had never been at sea before and had suffered badly, during the day or so that they had now been aboard the vessel, from the sickness that many new mariners encountered during maiden voyages.

The rolling of the Arab’s boat had caused both Vissarion and Arman to become white-faced and to vomit regularly, even though the movement was gentle as the sea was calm, with the wind very light. The boys’ bodies were therefore less pleasant than usual for the crew to ogle at but this was compensated for by amusement at the lads’ affliction. However, after another day, their illness began to wane and a black man came to clean the 13 years olds, happy to perform an otherwise distasteful chore because of the opportunity it afforded for an intimate exploration of the delicious young forms.

During their time together in the hold, Vissarion had tried his best to comfort Arman, who was obviously petrified at what was going to happen to him in the short-term and both of them in the long-term. However, his efforts were undermined by an inability to prevent their abductor from proceeding with his plans for the boys. This was emphasised when the ship captain, assisted by two crewmen, came to unchain the young Armenian from the wall of the hold and tie the terrified 13 years old, struggling fruitlessly, to the floor instead.

The Arab then kneeled between the spreadeagled young Armenian’s legs and used the cord to bind the base of the 13 years old’s ball sac tightly, so cutting off the blood supply. He followed this up by holding the boy’s rapidly expanding cock in one hand whilst he introduced the knife to the junction between the two smooth scrotum orbs with the other. The ship captain ignored the shouted entreaties emerging from the mouths of both Arman and Vissarion, instead smiling downwards at the face of his imminent victim before asking sarcastically “Don’t you want to be a eunuch like your friend?”

Arman screamed “No, please, no!” “Well, too bad,” the Arab replied, with a continued broad smirk, “as you’ll be much more valuable to me without your testicles!” The man then aimed his blade in readiness to begin the necessary cutting.

(Forests of Rus, Khanate of the Golden Horde, April 1390)

Nicolai was dishevelled after two days in the huge forest, his clothing dirty and torn. The 10 years old was also cold and wet, as it had just stopped raining, and very hungry. The boy had intended to feed himself with berries but now realised that he did not know which of the many varieties to be found amongst the trees were poisonous and so had desisted. The young Muscovite was additionally very tired and afraid, now recognising that, for one so young, the vast woodland could be a very frightening place, especially at night when many scary sounds could be heard. These included the howls of wolves and many strange rustling noises that had caused him to enjoy little sleep.

Accordingly, Nicolai was not at first too upset at being tracked down and cornered by Mongol hounds, from whose jaws the boy had escaped by climbing up a tree. The dogs were soon joined and controlled by their human masters, who ordered the tremulous 10 years old back to earth so that they could escort him back into captivity. The dejected young Muscovite recognised the utter defeat of his intentions and meekly complied, hoping that his captors would not seek to punish him for his attempt to flee from their clutches. Unfortunately, this wish was not to be granted.

The Mongol leader believed that he had to secure redress from, and make an example of, the young escapee. Accordingly, on Nicolai’s return, he had the horrified boy stripped and suspended from a strong tree branch, ready to be flogged in front of the other hostages as a lesson to them all. The terrified young Muscovite, as ashamed at his nudity as the faraway young Georgian and Armenian, saw the tall muscular bare-chested warrior, who would perform the chastisement, approach with a heavy whip. The 10 years old could not prevent his cock from humiliatingly gushing a long stream of urine at the frightful sight.

The other appalled boy hostages saw the sturdy Mongol take up position behind their younger compatriot and uncurl his leather implement to practise a few stokes into thin air. Nicolai heard the crack of the whip and felt its draft and now could not prevent himself from begging for mercy. However, none was to come and instead the 10 years old’s entreaties soon turned into shrieks as the first expert blow landed across his back, immediately creating a stripe whose colour darkened swiftly from white to purple.

At the same time that Arman was pleading “No, please, no” in the centre of the sea of Azof, Nicolai was uttering the same phrase, albeit in a different language, in the middle of the southern forests of Rus, and equally fruitlessly.

The Mongol took his time when inflicting the further nine blows of the whip across his boy victim’s rear, wanting the 10 years old to relish the agony of each hit. Nicolai swayed under the tree branch, with the rope, connecting his wrists to the wood, biting severely into his skin in response to each excruciating strike. Meanwhile, the torment of the pain that had overwhelmed the boy, combined with the tears that filled his lovely sensuous blue eyes, prevented the 10 years old from noticing what his anguished but also amazed compatriots had observed. The front of the naked young Muscovite’s sublime body sported a full vertical erection, oozing clear liquid.

By the time the requisite ten stokes had been applied, Nicolai’s back and buttocks displayed the same number of purple and brown stripes. Some of the hits had cut the skin, causing blood to trickle down his body and onto the grass below. However, no immediate action was taken to alleviate the boy’s injuries or hurt as he was to be left to hang from the tree for a couple of hours, contemplating the folly, futility and inevitable consequences of his attempted flight. His compatriots, sufficiently chastened at the spectacle never to consider emulating the 10 years old’s escapade in future, walked back sadly to their tent as ordered, frustrated at being unable to help for now. However, their newly reaffirmed attitude to escape was still not shared by the shamed agonised youngster.

As Nicolai was left alone with his agony and thoughts, still impervious to the fact that his cock had maintained full rigidity whilst his bare body now swayed more gently under the branch, he swore to himself that he would sometime try again to leave this place. However, his intent was now centred less on a desire to return to his family and more on a thirst for vengeance. The boy did not yet know how he could turn his new desire into reality but vowed that he would find a way.

In fact, the foreign personalities who would help Nicolai to achieve his aim were, at that same instant in time, in maritime peril.

(Sea of Azof, April 1390)

The Arab was about to begin his incision when there was a clearly alarmed shout from the deck above. The ship captain was annoyed at being disturbed at this vital moment and considered proceeding with the castration regardless but the clamour from upstairs grew in intensity. The man therefore issued a sigh of disgust and replaced his knife in the bowl, which had been placed just under Arman’s ball sac in readiness to collect the articles that contributed significantly to the delightful shape of the boy’s smooth scrotum.

The displeased captain climbed the steep steps to the daylight above to see what all the noise and fuss was about. He did not like the answer as the arms of many of his crew pointed to a large oared galley, clearly making rapid headway towards them. The man’s boat could attain significant speed but not in the current light unfavourable wind, which was requiring his vessel to tack slowly to make progress. However, the galley, with its many oarsmen, had no such problem, being able to bear down on the Arab ship in a straight line and with considerable velocity.

The Arab wondered whether, after all, Tamerlane’s boys had been spotted on his boat in Azof’s harbour. He also questioned whether he should take a chance that that was not the case and see what the people on the approaching galley wanted, or take no chance at all and throw the evidence into the sea, still chained so that it would sink. The galley was still distant and so the action should not be seen and, if asked, the captain could then always say that the boys had briefly visited the ship before leaving again, inviting an inspection of his vessel to attest to the fact.

Fortunately for the welfare of Tamerlane’s boys, their bodyguards and the citizenry of Azof, but unfortunately for his own, the Arab’s greed overcame his good sense and he opted for the first course of action, a literally fatal mistake.

(Near Azof, Khanate of the Golden Horde, April 1390)

The bitterly angry Tamerlane brooded in his tent in the middle of his main army’s huge encampment. He was surrounded not only by his own possessions but also those of his boys and observation of the items brought tears to his eyes. The conqueror had given the people of Azof a week to produce an unharmed Vissarion and Arman or suffer the dreadful consequences. He had not yet beheaded the bodyguards who were supposed to be protecting the young Georgian and Armenian, aware of the 13 years olds’ affection for the men, but such fondness would not save their lives this time if the lads did not reappear soon, safe and well.

In fact, Tamerlane’s grief and fury were beginning to encourage him to begin his personal decapitation of the soldiers when the flap of his tent opened and Vissarion and Arman ran in unannounced to hug their distraught master. They had been redressed in some of the latest finery provided by the tailors of Azof. However, the conqueror did not notice as he grasped his two boys closely to his body.

“Are you alright?” Tamerlane eventually managed to ask before, in response to affirmative answers, he began to sob. It was the third time that Vissarion and Arman had been in serious peril since the man had known them and his relief at yet another miraculous escape was profound. Whilst he held his beautiful boys close to him and cried with happiness, the conqueror determined that he would never let something similar happen again.

Tamerlane’s army advanced towards the north-east one week later, the exact amount of time that it had taken the conqueror to secure appropriate redress for abducting his boys from the Arab sea captain and his crew. It had taken the whole of this period for the men to die horribly and very slowly.

The citizenry of Azof were mightily relieved to see Tamerlane’s soldiers leave the city’s environs. They were also happy to reward richly the 9 years old, easily unnoticeable because of his insignificant stature, whose claim, to have seen Vissarion and Arman on a certain Arab’s boat, was the only clue they had to the mystery of the 13 years olds’ disappearance. The complement of the Italian galley that had actually made the successful rescue was similarly compensated for the invaluable help that had saved the port and its populace from certain destruction. They had set out with many other ships to try to earn the massive guerdon offered by the municipality for saving the young Georgian and Armenian. They had been lucky enough to spy the right ship, overtaking and boarding the vessel just in time to thwart the belated attempts of the kidnapper to dispose of his young captives overboard.

Vissarion and Arman again used their charms to save their bodyguards and restore them to their former roles, but only after accepting the condition that they would never again try to dissuade the soldiers from performing their watchful duties. However, the conqueror’s ambition that his boys should never anymore be endangered was to be seriously confounded amidst the dense forests of southern Rus, to which they were all now heading.

(To be continued in chapter 8 – ‘Trees’)