Time & Reign

Chapter 3

Nokutu-ran walked back to his shared room unattended. He looked down the dark silent hallway, there were no guards in sight. A million thoughts of escape flooded his mind. Could he make it out of Targov Hall unnoticed? If he tried, could he find the way? Would he be able to run? Walking was made difficult enough from another night with Ketheran. If he did make it out of Targov Hall, how would he hide in the city? Would anyone help him? Where would he go? Where was he?
Suddenly, Nokutu-ran felt a hand on his shoulder. A tall guard with thick beard stood over him.
“And what are you doing out here so late, little one?” he asked.
“Coming from Master Ketheran’s room.” Nokutu-ran answered nervously.
“Stopping to look at the scenery then?” the guard laughed.
“No sir, walking sir, it hurts some.” He replied quietly.
“Ah, I see. You’ve had a rough night. Up you go then.” And the guard lifted Nokutu-ran over his shoulder and carried him back to his room one flight below. The guard handed him back his bowl and locked the door behind him.
The room was dark. The four torches that hung on the walls had been extinguished.
“Wren-lav, look I have berries, Master Ketheran gave them….”
Wren-lav turned over on his matt. His tale had been cut off. Only a short stump wrapped in a blood drenched bandage remained.
“He said it got in the way.” Wren-lav sobbed, his face down in the matt.
Nokutu-ran stood frozen in disbelief, then he placed the bowl next to Wren-lav and returned to his matt without a word. Nokutu-ran lay down, and let his tale wrap around him, thankful that he still had it. He thought back to what their attendant had said earlier about him being lucky, and for the first time he was grateful that Ketheran had chosen him. His master did not whip or mutilate him, and he kept him well fed. As long as he warmed his bed on demand, he would be luckier then most Itins that came into contact with Targovians.
As he lay there, Nokutu-ran thought back on how he had been treated since he arrived at Targov Hall. The woman who attended to him and Wren-lav had always spoken gently and softly to them, the guard who had carried him was kind and like Ketheran had told him the first night, things could worse. Wren-lav was proof of that. It was confusing to Nokutu-ran, how the Targovians could so easily kill Itins, but were not so brutal to him as a pleasure servant. Perhaps if he could convince Ketheran to see him as a friend, a pet even, maybe he could help him escape. It would be difficult, Ketheran’s way was by the crossbow and sword, yet he did seem to have uphold morals and honor, more so then Selav anyway.


“Is it true that they swing from trees by their tales and attack from above?” a student asked.
“No, no. Their tales are not strong enough to support their weight, but some think that they will eventually be able to do so.” Ketheran answered.
“Do they really have pointed ears?” another student asked.
Ketheran looked puzzled at his class. “Have any of you actually seen an Itin, or have you only heard stories?”
The class looked around at each other, “No, sir.”
“Well, I’ll fix that today. Airen, go find a guard and tell them to bring Nokutu-ran to Pentog Library.”
“Yes sir” the student replied, and left the hall.

Nokutu-ran was still laying on his matt holding his tale, when the attendant came in with the gourd and reed. “Still asleep?” she asked. “Its time to get up, you’ll be going to class today.” And she proceeded to clean him.
Nokutu-ran was lead down to Pentog Library by a guard. He was hoping that it would be the same guard as the night before so he could ask what class was, what he was going to have to do and if Master Ketheran would there; but this guard he did not know, so he kept his questions to himself. When he got to the library, Ketheran stood him up on a stool in front of the class.
“This is an Itin.” He said displaying Nokutu-ran.
The class stared, until Airen broke the silence. “He’s so small.”
“Yes,” replied Ketheran, “most Itin are very small. This one is a fully grown adult male.”
“Sir, how is it then that they are able to overpower us in some fights?” a student asked.
“It is because they hide in trees. They have no honor and refuse to fight face to face. When a battle begins to lose promise for them, they retreat. Leaving higher numbers to return and pillage civilians at another location. About the tale though, there is some dexterity to it. Nokutu-ran, move your tale.”
Nokutu-ran obeyed, and flipped his tale behind him. The class laughed.
“You also probably noticed how small his genitalia is.” Ketheran lifted back the hair surrounding Nokutu-ran’s member. “If his hair were any longer, it would almost be completely hidden. This too, is another reason why our scholars think their next generations will be able to move about in the trees. They’re developing to fit their environment. Anything bigger would be a burden if they tried to grasp the limbs with their tales.” Ketheran explained.
“Why sir? Why did they develop these tales and pointed ears?”
“That is good question, one that has not been fully answered yet.” Said Ketheran. “The story goes that there is an un-named, unseen force that occupies the Curovon Forest. It is older then any of us, older then Targovia. When our ancestors first traveled this land, they were forced to stop outside of Curovon Forest. It rejected humanity inside of its shadows. The ground would open without warning and swallow entire families, they say the land moved at night, so the travelers never knew what direction they were coming from or going to and all of the plant life was poisonous. When the Itin retreated into the forest during the early years of war, they were forced to compromise with its force, and they began transforming into something less then human and more animalistic so that they could survive there.”
“So is this power on the Itin’s side?” a student asked.
“No one knows for sure.” Ketheran answered. He looked over at Nokutu-ran, standing on the stool, his hands shamefully covering himself. “You may go now. Wait for me at my room.” Ketheran ordered.
Nokutu-ran climbed down from the stool and left the library.

Nokutu-ran said outside of Master Ketheran’s room waiting. He looked down and fingered what Ketheran had called “his genitalia”. He had never thought of himself as small before. He had thought that Ketheran was deformed because he was so large. He ran his finger over his broken ring. He had never touched himself there before, and wondered what it would have felt like before his master had tamed him.
“What are you doing?” Ketheran asked standing over him, maps under his arm.
“Waiting for you.” Nokutu-ran stammered.
Ketheran opened his door, and pushed Nokutu-ran inside.
“You did not have my permission to touch yourself. What would it look like if someone walked by and saw an Itin fingering himself outside of my door?” Ketheran shouted.
Nokutu-ran shook with fear.
“I was hoping that I would never have to do this, but you have to be punished.” Ketheran sat down at his desk, and pulled Nokutu-ran over his lap. He delivered seven open handed slaps to Nokutu-ran’s backside, he cried out louder as each one fell.
“All right. That should be enough to teach you. I don’t enjoy hearing you scream any more then you need to.” Ketheran looked down at Nokutu-ran’s flushed backside, and spread him open. He slid a finger in, and massaged him gently.
“There, is that better?” he asked.
“Yes.” Sobbed Nokutu-ran.
“You’ve gotten much looser. Things will be easier for you know.” Ketheran said, with one finger inside, his thumb stroking the pouch that hung below.
“Go get on the bed.” Ketheran ordered. Nokutu-ran slid off of his master’s lap.
“What is this?” Ketheran said with a laugh, “You’ve gotten hard.”
Nokutu-ran looked down and noticed he had an erection. He looked up at Ketheran, not sure if this was good or bad.
“Go on, get on the bed.”
Nokutu-ran obeyed, and climbed up. Ketheran got between his legs and fit Nokutu-ran’s member into his mouth. It wasn’t difficult, Nokutu-ran’s full erection was barely the size of one of Ketheran’s fingers. After three quick, hard sucks, Nokutu-ran climaxed… into his master’s mouth. Ketheran got up from the bed and spit out the window. Nokutu-ran moved to the far corner of the bed and sat curled in fear. “I’m, I’m sorry… I didn’t…”
“I will only tell you this once, don’t you ever do that again. I already punished you once today, and I won’t do it twice, but so help me if you ever do that again, I’ll cut it off. Am I understood?”
“Yes master.” Nodded Nokutu-ran. Ketheran removed his clothes and got back in bed. He turned Nokutu-ran on his side and lay against him.
“This is a funny thing.” He said picking of Nokutu-ran’s tale. The sight of Wren-lav the night before came to him, and he tensed.
“What do you use them for?” Ketheran asked.
“Balance mostly.”
“Balance I see. Well I think I just thought of another use for it.” Ketheran said, still stroking the tale. “Open up.” Ketheran slid the end of the Itin’s tale between his thighs. The thought hadn’t occurred to Nokutu-ran until this moment, but suddenly the thought of being penetrated with his open tale became his biggest fear. Ketheran held the tip of the tale to Nokutu-ran’s opening, then worked it inside. Nokutu-ran grasped the bed covering until his knuckles were white and moaned. Ketheran playfully pushed it further and further inside of him, until what remained on the outside was tight against his backside. Ketheran rolled Nokutu-ran onto his back, and opened his legs. He pressed his throbbing head against Nokutu-ran’s opening just above the tale.
“Please master, no!” Nokutu-ran cried. “Please take my tale out first!” But Ketheran ignored him, and thrust himself inside. He felt Nokutu-ran give way, his body writing in agony. He grunted with each thrust, sweat pouring down his body. Nokutu-ran became dizzy, and passed out from shock and pain. He awoke in bed next to his sleeping master. A towel, wet and bloody was jammed between his legs. That night, Nokutu-ran slept in his master’s bed, and under his arm.