Tutor and Brother

5. Discoveries of Times Past


“My brother arrived home again in April 1288 accompanied by the men at arms I’d sent to receive the heir, and I expected him anxiously, looking far into the horizon from the battlements, as I did for many weeks before.

As the small party of men approached, I couldn’t believe my eyes. An Infidel was riding the battle-horse I’d sent for my brother. He was dressed in dark-blue clothing, turban and half of his face covered, as in the tales I’d hear about the Saracens. I’d already come down and now stood facing the column, bent on yelling where my brother was, when the dark clad man dismounted gracefully and turned to look at me. There was no mistaking as I looked in the azure-blue eyes. They were mine, as they were his.

Then, without words we embraced each other. He kept looking around. I had to tell him. Father was dead. He bent his head for a second, in silence. Then my wife took a step forward, unbidden, and said “Welcome, My Lord, I hope you shall find everything has been well-kept to your satisfaction.” Her voice was pure venom. I knew that she resented the fact that my brother had been found, that he returned. She’d dreamed of herself as the mistress of the castle, and now all her dreams were turning to naught. I wasn’t disappointed, and this made her even angrier. Still, my brother said nothing just his eyes were looking to her as if she were the strangest creature.
“Woman don’t you know yet that you are not to speak unbidden in the presence of men? Or have you been so remiss in instructing her as to her duties brother?”
Almost seven years of waiting for him, and now this.
“Actually, I have tried, but Mistress Margot here, still doesn’t get well the grip of things.”
“You should do better.”
It was stated in a calm tone, and with these words he left, and entered the castle, me walking behind him, and my wife still spitting vile words from her mouth, under her breath.

Things started changing that same day. At noon, another company of men arrived. They were all Saracens carrying loads over loads of things, carefully packed, and behind them others with twelve beautiful horses, as I have never seen before. And then, yet other five younger Infidels, dressed in velvet, yet with collars around their necks, carrying other smaller packages. They entered the castle in silent procession. Behind them were coming, twelve knights templar. I stood and watched mesmerized. My brother had been home less then five hours, and yet I felt that now it was his castle, and everybody just tried his best to do his bidding.

“Brother, bring the Knights Templar to me.” My brother spoke in a soft, yet commanding tone. As I brought them, he motioned to one of the Saracens, who silently handed to the man who was their commander a heavy purse which the man opened in front of my brother. My brother was watching him intently, silent mockery in his eyes.
“I hope it is to your satisfaction.”
“Indeed.” I just stood there gaping. The man had taken out a beautiful white diamond, the size of an egg. I understood that the purse had more of the same. My brother signaled bored, and another of the Saracens approached with yet another small bag. It was full of golden coin. Thereafter followed satchels and barrels with Oriental spices, one of each kind, and when everything was handed to the Knights Templar, my brother addressed them again.
“It is time to take your leave. I kept my promise for the kindness you showed in revenging my Emir and saving me from his enemy. Now, it’s time to go. If it hadn’t been for your interference and lust and intrigues for war, in the first place, I’d still be there with him.”
I could say nothing. Then my brother turned to me.
“Now as for you, brother, listen well. I would have you continue to do what you did before my arrival. You shall continue to rule the castle, all our holdings. I shall take for me the south wing. Never, ever one of our servants, or your wife, is allowed to enter the south wing and tower. They will be strictly mine. You my brother are welcome anytime, but you shall send word, so that I’ll be able to receive you. Tomorrow, my men shall start working and arranging that part according to my wishes. This will be all for now.” He stood up and left heading for the south part of the castle without saying another word.

Late that night, I received word from him. He expected me next morning so that we talk. I couldn’t sleep all night for worry wondering who the stranger, and still my brother was. Next morning, I went to visit him, as he’d bidden me.
“Why are you angry with the Knights Templar?” The question jumped from my lips involuntarily.
“I’m not, and yet I am. You couldn’t understand brother. When I was captured, I was barely eighteen. I’d spent two years suffering, and afterwards I spent another four years of charmed life. I still longed to see father, you and Cornwall, but I’d learned to be satisfied with what was given to me. Then, a war broke out, and I returned to being a slave and my Emir was turned into one as well. When the Knights Templar arrived, they could save me, but my Emir was killed in front of my eyes, there and then. The riches I brought are mine by right. It was all hidden well, and I promised a share to the Knights Templar if they helped the son of the Emir to regain his kingdom, and then took me home to Cornwall.”
“What do you mean by ‘my Emir’?”
He just stood there, looking at me, and then he asked in a dismissive tone “any other questions brother?”
I just shook my head.
“Well, then. If we are at this asking game, I have a question for you. How are you faring with your wife?”
I told him. All my hurt and bitterness spilled over. I heard myself talking, and understood suddenly, how different we’d become in time past since we’d been together before he left for the Orient. Here I was, talking everything, and he just stood there, listening, his face as unrevealing as a white sheet of paper. But his face was no longer white. It had a soft golden tan, and his hair was hidden by a turban. Had it not been for the golden cross hanging on a chain at his neck, I would have thought he’d become himself a heathen.
“Very well, brother. Then we shall deal with it today.”
At a sign, one of his Arab servants came.
“Go and fetch Mistress Margot.” He bowed respectfully and left. But a short time later, he returned, holding the elbow of my swearing and vile speaking wife.
“Enough, woman! Hold your tongue, or I’ll have it cut here and now.” He didn’t even have to shout. His voice was soft, yet determined and my wife silenced immediately.
“Well, now I shall mete my judgment as Lord of all and everything held in my power. You brother, do you wish to keep this woman with you, till death do you part?”
I shook my head in denial, still wondering what he would do, and yet thinking that the woman was my wife. I really didn’t know what to say, or how to interfere. Behind the cold and collected mask, a demon seemed to be hiding in my brother.
“Then you, Margot Sedgwyck, shall leave the castle at first daylight tomorrow, accompanied by your ladies and all servants you need, and head for our holding near the sea. There you shall stay forever. You are free to do what you choose, even go to a convent. But never, ever will you show your face in this place, or in any other holding in which I and my brother and family shall reside. As your children are no longer very small, they shall remain under my and their father careful watch and the servants I shall give them. Now go, pack your bags and not a single word if you have an inch of mind. And remember: I never tolerate plots, poisoning and other attempts on my or my brother’s life. If you thought I wouldn’t know you were wrong.”
I just stood there stunned. Only a day and he changed all our lives. Was it true? Had she tried to do something against my brother and me?
“Yes. Don’t look so astonished. It took me just, oh, shall we say, last evening to find out everything.”

I felt strangely relieved. I hadn’t loved my wife, but still in the years we’d spent together since my eighteenth birthday, I had tried to make our life together pleasant, in vain hopes that maybe a sort of loving bond would form between us. However, not one of my hopes had been fulfilled ever.

After my wife left forever our holding, life started to flow in strange patterns. Sometimes, I wouldn’t see my brother for days, even weeks, and there were other weeks, when I met him each day, and we went hunting together, or to see the lands and make decisions for the years to come. It intrigued me that he never sought a woman, and refused my offers of going ‘a-wenching’ with me. He just shook his head, and more often then not, left me alone to my pleasures. I couldn’t make out the puzzle my brother had become and in time started spying on him. All was well he just preferred to live like a hermit, or so I thought till one night…

That night, I did what I’d decided, but never done before. I took to prowling his part of the castle. Shameful indeed, but I couldn’t understand my brother anymore, and I sincerely tried to see if there wasn’t a way to help him. I’d just passed one of the rooms, as I heard a silent moan, then a gasp, and again a moan, accompanied by a swishing sound. I couldn’t understand what was happening behind that door, so fearing he might be in some kind of peril, perhaps even attacked by one of his infidels, I pushed at the door. It wasn’t locked, as my brother hadn’t felt the need because of the trust relationship among us. And no one ever dared to enter unbidden his half of the castle.
On opening the door, I suddenly got an understanding of the changes he’d done since returning, and mouth agape, I remained stone-cold on the threshold. The room was completely covered in dark-red carpets and ruby tapestries, everything, pillows, draperies and sheets of black velvet and satin. Tapestries and draperies were decorated with strange looking embroideries…and on the other wall, there was a new door, I’d never known before in these rooms. It had been built from this one large room…it was empty with white walls, and chains hanging from ceiling, cuffs in the walls…My mind didn’t seem able to understand, more so as what finally caught my eyes, and made me feel like gone to another world as cold and hot shivers ran down my spine, was my own brother.

He was beautiful, exciting golden skin where mine was white, naked, and reclining on the pillows laid on the floor, stretched on one side, leaning on his elbow hand on his shaft, while in the other one he held a short-tailed whip. He’d stopped as I entered and his razor-slit eyes, glazed with lust and longing watched me with surprise and annoyance for but a second. Then he started stroking himself again, while the whip fell on his shoulders and he whispered “Get out…later.”
These three short words pulled me over the edge, and I was gripped by unexplainable madness. Instead of doing as asked, I went directly to him and bending over, pulled on his hair, twisting his long mane around my wrist, as my other hand took hold of the whip letting it fall down, somewhere behind me. He must have been just as surprised as I, because he made no move to fight me, and just remained half reclining, half kneeling in the grip of my hand tugging at his hair. He was more erotic in my eyes, than any of the women I had bedded, and I felt aroused as never before. Almost unconsciously, I let myself fall on my knees, and bending my head I kissed him possessively, while my free hand glided over his face, neckline, shoulders, chest, down on his muscled stomach, even further down, to his engorged shaft, where I removed his hand replacing it with mine. I started stroking him, letting my hand glide deep between his thighs. He gave a strange, low grown, as if of release, and strained against my body. I just intensified my caresses, finally letting loose of his mane. By now, my breathing had turned harsh, my heart was pounding hard, ready to explode, and I could only think about taking him and finding release in his body. I let loose of him, and he fell back on the pillows, as I got up and started taking hastily my clothes of. He rose to a kneeling position seeing what I intended, and helped me take off my leggings and trousers, as my tunic fell to ground. No words had been spoken. We moved like one in what seemed to be a strange enchantment. When I was also naked, he stretched on the pillows again, and I covered his body with mine. For the first time we could see, feel and smell the others naked and hot body, and I bit gently his throat, laving with my mouth the way to his nipples. We continued to embrace each other wantonly, savagely. His lips were half open and short sighs of pleasure escaped past them. I started whispering “God forgive me brother, and may you forgive me brother, but I want you and I shall have you”.
He remained there in my embrace, and then, smiling strangely, pointed to the short whip. “Then make me want you, brother. Make me, please.”
I looked at him refusing to understand, shaking my head in denial.
He then moved his hand in a gentle caress over my hand, then chest and continued compellingly “Hurt me”.
I still refused to understand. He just bit his reddened lips, and then took again my hand, and laid it on his nipple. Making me close my fingers around the bud, as I instinctively put my other hand on the other nipple. He gave a groan of satisfaction.
“Twist them hard brother, make me moan from the pain and pleasure of it, and then take the whip and use it, on my chest, my stomach, even my groin and between the thighs, on my back and buttocks. I…I need it. If you love and want me, do it, and make me, make me want to have you inside me…”

I tentatively twisted first his left, and then his right nipple, as he glided on his back, and put his hands behind his head, legs spread, fully outstretched, watching what I was doing to him, submitting to my almost painful and slow twist of the now aroused buds. Not a moan, a gasp, nothing went past his lips, as he lay there accepting the ever increasing pressure of my hands on his nipples. I continued twisting one of his nipples, as my other hand gripped his shaft, as I stroked the now wet head. He bit his lips, closing his eyes. My hand groped blindly after the whip, while the other tormented one and then the other nipple. Finally, whip in hand, I first twisted, and then suckled his nipple, only to let the whip fall on his chest for the first time. His hips jerked upwards, only to fall back on the pillow. Soon, I found myself pinching his nipples, caressing them only to deliver another blow with the whip on belly, between his thighs, and again his chest.

His body was twisting and contorting seductively before my eyes, while he kept eyes closed, mouth open, sighing and even uttering surprised cries from time to time. I started to stimulate him, pushing him, and made him turn on his belly, just as exposed, hands crossed, head resting on them, while now I was wielding the whip full of lust and possessiveness over his back and buttocks. Short gasps and moans, almost as if he tried to restrain himself, made me want him even more loose himself and cry out loud of pain, lust and wanting his brother.

I was dazed, I had the feeling of being outside my body, and watching from somewhere above myself punishing and loving the body of my brother. As one of my hands separated the buttocks, and felt him inside, as his body jerked uncontrollably, and I whispered “stay there as you are, I am not finished yet”, as I continued to deliver measured strokes.

He arched his back, as I again used the whip on him, till I finally heard through shallow gasps his whispered “please, please…ahh…”

I dropped the whip and putting my arm around his belly, made him rise on his knees and separated his buttocks entering him in one hard push, as he gave a scream of pain and pleasure. I took his shaft in my hand, stroking it gently, making him come in the same moment with me, entering him even deeper. Then we both collapsed on the pillows.

When sanity returned, he was there beside me, my leg thrown possessively over his hips. I looked searchingly confused into his eyes. “What now?”
He smiled and glided down my body taking me into his mouth. It was sheer, undiluted pleasure that no woman had ever made me feel. Only when I completely surrendered and enjoyed the whole cup of his physical love he answered me.
“You shall decide what you want. I only shall tell you the story of who I am now. If, by the time I am finished you believe you are able to accept what happened between us, and you’ll want me to service you like this in moments of your choosing, I shall always await your orders and desires, because that’s my life now, I cannot figure out another. Nor do desire for another life.”
I nodded, more due to confusion, and not because I understood what had happened minutes ago, or because I was ready to accept it.

And then he told me how he’d been brought to the Court of the Emir and sold as a pleasure slave. How, after two hard years of physical and mental punishments, he’d learned to submit to the Emir. How he’d started longing for all the punishments the Emir had devised to torture him sexually and make him desire the Emir and his touch even more. The Emir had taught him to enjoy giving pleasure through his pain, to enjoy the pleasure bringing pain and to share all his sentiments openly with him. His reward had been that he’d turned into the Emir’s favorite and best friend. There was not a whim, not a wish not a single thing refused him.
“Hadn’t you wished to return home? Hadn’t you missed father, me?”
“I sure did. And if the war hadn’t been, the Emir intended for us to make the travel to Constantinople, from there to Rome and further by boat to England. He’d already promised to come with me, disguised as a noble Infidel, not the Emir. But then the war came and everything changed. He was taken prisoner and killed. My luck was that the Knights Templar, though knowing, or perhaps because they knew who I’d been and was, intervened and freed me, just before being executed like the Emir.”
“And you really liked him, and now me to…?” I simply couldn’t continue.
“Yes, after a time I started liking and fearing it in equal measures, yet desiring to be an object for pain and pleasure, lusting for everything and anything done to me, as you cannot ever understand, even now, as we sit and talk. I felt very lonely these weeks. I have one of the slaves who could help me, at least with one part of this whole lust ritual I’ve learned to crave despite its pain, but I’d feel debased if I’d started a liaison with him. Now, brother, can you understand how I enjoyed your care?”
His question had a certain mockery, but I could feel deep inside he feared I’ll reject him and refuse to ever be his master and lover again. I just brushed lightly my fingers over his hair and face.
“I’ll be here for you brother, whenever you need me. I shall tend to your needs, because they are mine as well. I shall learn everything I need to know to pain and pleasure you in but moments. Let the slave teach me, for I fear otherwise I could harm you truly, when I just want to hurt you making you want me and take me into your body like tonight. “’twill forever be our secret and pleasure.”
Finally I left, promising to return three days hence, as I had to go to our neighboring holding to settle the matters with one of the tenants.

When I returned, I sent message to my brother that I shall visit him that night and expected him to be ready for me. I couldn’t wait to meet him, touch him, feel him, have him moaning and gasping in my arms, and more than anything to start learning about the pleasures that could be induced with sweet punishing pain.

True to his word, my brother expected me naked, kneeling, his head bent signaling his submission. Next to him standing straight with arms braced above his chest, the Saracen who was supposed to be my teacher, watched over him, as he expected to pleasure me.
I greeted my brother, but he just bowed more his head, his kin giving the impression of touching his chest. Instead, the Saracen addressed me.
“My Lord, I teach. You do. I stop when wrong. Remember, nothing wrong if willing and giving pleasure. No real harm allowed. Not too gentle…not too harsh. All love.”
I smiled nervously as I tried to hide my anxiety and impatience that were colliding in my mind and body.
“You speak English rather well.”
“English not good, I know. Enough help El Hakim be happy”. So, my brother was called among them El Hakim.
“Very well, shall we start?”

I could hear my voice and for the briefest of moments everything felt very wrong. Three nights ago it had been a chance encounter, turned into something burning and true. No I felt more like an actor performing on a stage, next to my brother, who was my partner. I realized, it had nothing to do with what I wished, but with what I didn’t know how to do. Then my brother talked. “You must tell where, and how you’d like me brother.”
His voice just waved away all my doubts and fears. He’d given me an unexpected and an unthought-of pleasure three nights ago, and now that I knew that he need me just as I discovered in that night needing him and his body, I found myself able to make decisions and express wishes.
“I’d like to be able to explore your body, to touch you everywhere anyway I want, while you are unable to move. I’d like to take my time in doing so; I’d like it to last all this night.”
A fleeting smile swept over his face.
“Then the rack it will be for me this night.”
He rose from the kneeling position and went to the adjoining room, where he climbed and laid spread-eagled on the wooden rack table. I followed him, and going to his head, I bent and kissed him gently on the lips, stroking his hair and chest, while I whispered to him, all that I wanted. His hips made a gentle move upwards, aroused by my heated promises, as he coaxed me in an aching whispering voice. “Cuff me”.
He closed his eyes, and waited there, completely delivered to me and my lusts. I cuffed his wrists and ankles to the cuffs attached to the table. Suddenly, a hand fell on my shoulder.
“No. Won’t touch all. Better like this.”

The Saracen drew a metal bar, hanging from the ceiling just above the place where my brother’s ankles were. He un-cuffed him, and attached his ankles to the bar, and indicated me to hit my brother, just a bit on the legs. My brother tried to move his legs, surprised by the swift harsh stroke, but couldn’t. Then the Saracen showed me what the bar was intended for. By turning a small wheel, I could bring the knees of my brother in a bent position, or even make his legs stay straight, suspended in the air, giving me access to his buttocks. Then he let his feet down, and my brother was again laying spread-eagled horizontally on the wooden rack.
“You decide, what, when, how.”
I nodded, and he resumed his position next to the door.

I took my time noticing the beauty of my brother’s well trained body, his well-shaped muscles, and I laid my palms flat on his chest starting there my caresses, moving slowly, inquiringly my hand up and down his whole body, kneading each muscle at my leisure, making him become more and more aroused, with each touch, each small and slight glide of my hand. He kept his eyes shut, letting himself completely into my hands. I went down, to his groin, and gently massaged him between his thighs, avoiding touching his already aroused shaft. I again returned my hands to his chest and resumed my slow downwards motions, this time, letting my hands glide closer and closer to his shaft. Then my fingers fleetingly touched his hardness, and then my hands moved further, down one leg, only to come up the other. I kept feeling his body from head to tow incessantly, as he started moving and straining in his bonds. I don’t know how much I continued teasing his body and learning it like this. All I know and remember is that sweat started building on his forehead, his breathing was slow and full of longing, and rivulets of sweat glided down his neck, further on his chest, as he gave from time to time low gasps of pleasure and surprise.

Silently, the man watching the scene approached me again and silently put two clamps on the rack. I understood, without having to ask. I took one of them, and bending over my brother, I took one nipple in my mouth, starting to suckle it. My brother’s body jolted upwards in his strains. I just pressed him down, laying my palm flat on his belly, as I continued suckling him, and then I removed my mouth, replacing it with one of the clamps. My brother gave a sigh of surprised pain mixed with pleasure, and his eyes opened for the briefest of moments, like to slits and looked dazed and melted at me. Had he liked the feel of the clamp or not, I wondered just to discover it didn’t matter at all, because my selfish ego told me I enjoyed doing it, and he had been the one to ask me to use him.
I whispered with lust veiled voice and tender menace, “close your eyes El-Hakim, or I’ll bind them.”
Just when I thought he wouldn’t obey, his eyes closed again, and I again felt the length of him, diverting his attention with one hand on his shaft, as I clamped the other nipple, as my hand played with the head of his dripping shaft. Another moan, hips jerking upward, and he fell in his bonds, giving small moans of want and distress. He almost came in the next second, a thing I didn’t want. Not yet. I squeezed his root and started twisting slowly the clamps, as he opened reproachful eyes. I felt in that moment the complete power I had over him.
“You are not very obedient, are you now?” I murmured softly, gently twisting the clamps even more making him gift me with sharp gasps as he closed in a sign of surrender yet again his eyes.

I stopped to watch his flushed face, with an almost imploring look on it. I turned the wheel and his knees rested now bent, soles firmly on the table. I walked to the wall on the left, where an assortment of canes, birches, whips, thick and thin, all, were hanging. My eyes favored a whippy stick. I took it from the wall and walked to the table.

My brother was writhing, his body contorting on the table, hips jolting uncontrollably upwards. I bent and kissed him on the lips, and removed wet wisps of hair from his forehead. Silence had turned eerie, and it made him uncomfortable. I again turned the wheel and now his legs were spread straight hanging from the ceiling. Slowly, I let the stick glide down his entire body. He gave a keening moan that could have been interpreted as begging me to hit, or to spare him. I didn’t know, and moreover, I couldn’t give up on my own wish. I raised my hand, and giving him a final caress on his belly and chest, hit him with it. The gasp he gave was of pain, but it sounded like music to my ears…

It went on for hours, as I turned him on his belly on the rack, after removing his clamps for a final whipping, and then I took him, after I ordered the Saracen out of the rooms. The last hour was only for us. When finished, we both confessed to the other the pleasure we’d felt, and promised to have these meetings each week. The Saracen would be our companion, but only till I learned the skill to pain and pleasure my brother well and safe…

…David remained with eyes looking far, his hand on his shaft, breathing harsh in his turn. Dear God! It had been in the family for centuries. It had been there, hidden, and now he and Cedric had brought it back to life, this lust, this passion, with the help of the tutor, but still… If one spelled tutor instead of Emir… He’d spent himself recreating the lustful images in his head, and then feeling ashamed and disgusted with himself he closed the book with a brisk turn of his wrist. He would have to tell Cedric. Maybe the book also held the answer to their own problem of continuing to enjoy each other, to not letting the world know, and still ensuring the continuation of the line.