Gay Erotic Stories

Je’ro’s Chosen, Part 1

“What’s a pretty boy like you doing on Dalvius?”

In an ironic twist of fate, the Dalvars shared 99.98% of the human genetic code. Imagine our surprise when we finally contact an alien race… and we see our reflection staring back at us. No one had a good explanation for it: Dalvius and Earth were more than 30 light-years apart. The only real differences between us were their large stature and their technological superiority. They, in fact, had discovered us.

I hated Je’ro. He was a smug asshole. Standing at a modest 7’8, Je’ro towered over me. He had dark orange eyes and lush, red shoulder-length hair. Like most of the Dalvars, he had a well-developed muscular frame; life on Dalvius had been extremely difficult for the prehistoric Dalvars. His skin was a café au lait complexion. His thick lips were permanently curved in a sadistic smile.

“What’s it to a jackass like you?”

“What’s a ‘jackass’?”

“Never mind, what do you want Je’ro?”

“Does the backward little boy miss Dalvius 2?

“It’s called Earth, you insipid Neanderthal! Why don’t you harass that gruesome beast you call a mother.”

Before I knew it Je’ro lifted me with one massive hand, slamming my diminutive 5’10 frame into the wall. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes hardened in a scowl. He held my wrists above my head with the other hand. He snorted and violently spit in my face. Our ‘friendly’ banter began upon my arrival in Cherunt, the capital of the most powerful of the 35 nation-states, Felron. I had received a promotion and was now the ambassador’s administrative assistant and interpreter; an almost extraneous position considering most Dalvar now spoke English fluently. They would not, however, speak English during formal gatherings, and I also provided insight into their culture from a human perspective.

Cherunt was a huge, dense metropolis covering over 140 square miles and rising high into the clouds along the perimeter, like a bowl. The buildings were faced with pale bricks and pyrite trim. Je’ro was my ‘tour guide’. He mistook my awe for stupidity and received a string of good old-fashion earth expletives.

“You better be careful who you call Neanderthal, boy! And don’t assume I’m some ignorant little errand boy either,” he snarled as he proceeded to licked my cheek. “ I might become smitten with that cute little butt of yours…”

“JE’RO! Drop him this instant! Who do YOU think you are? Have you forgotten your place! This Man is a personally invited guest of the Council and you are personally responsible for ensuring his welfare, unless you would like to work in the mines of Japthon, which can easily be arranged.”

My ‘savior’ was a stout 8’2” baritone giant named Be’roth. He was 4th in command of the city, a position that was a cross between a mayor and a police commissioner. We had met only once, for about five minutes.

“No sir, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” Je’ro whispered, with his head dropped down in shame. He lowered me down slowly, awkwardly trying to help me readjust my clothing. “I beg your forgiveness, High Steward.”

“Good boy. Now, why don’t you show our guest to the lavatory so he can clean your disgusting saliva off his face, before the awards banquet? And, please do remember to wear your traditional garb to dinner. The little blue one might be a good selection; it did create quite a little stir at last year’s banquet.”

Be’roth’s smirk and arched eyebrow reverted to a solemn look of dignity as he turned and strode away, not even allowing Je’ro to reply. Je’ro was smoldering as he glared at me, and his eye darted to make sure Be’roth was out of sight.

“Come with me and keep up, if you can!”

I finally understood Je’ro a little better. He probably had been an errand boy all his life; bullied around by his superiors. The Dalvar discovery of Earth had finally given him someone to pick on, and he was being denied even that. I could see the anger seething under his skin. I can’t say that I felt pity for man, being the target of his gross behavior, but I could empathize with his situation.

Je’ro lead me through the labyrinthine halls of the command centre and onto the raised pedestrian streets of Cherunt. We came to a large 4 level communal living complex for government employees. Je’ro lead me through the large entrance until we arrived at a door engraved with the message ‘elosiphanT Je’ro comihuntiq’, roughly meaning, “the living quarters of Je’ro” though the words carried a connotation of subordinate status. The hierarchy that dominated Dalvar politics was deeply ingrained into every aspect of their culture.

The living quarters were sparsely decorated; really, just a large bed, sitting chairs, audio-visual communicator panel, and a few paintings. The paintings were beautiful landscape scenes of some of the most exotic locales, including a scene looking down on earth from the moon.

“These painting are quite nice, where did you get them?”

”I painted them while on various missions. Your formal clothes are in the backroom thru that doorway. You’ve been assigned to share quarters with me, to allow you to understand some of our cultural peculiarities. Do not touch my things! Grab a towel and come to the showers,” he said tersely, “ the banquet begins shortly.”

Privacy and personal space were generally reserved only for the highest-level officials in Dalvar culture. The shower rooms consisted of 10 nozzles hanging from the roof; seven of which were already occupied. Je’ro simply marched into the showers and removed his clothes, and stepped beneath a nozzle that began to spray by itself.

I was mortified. I was bursting at the seam of my pants as the 8 gargantuan Dalvars stood beneath hot spraying water. Muscles rippled and bulged. Hands passed soap and shampoo, and flesh bumped against flesh. The sound of the spray was drowned in the din of jovial conversation. And I stood at nipple level to most of the occupants.

“Get under the spray, or do I need to wash you too!” Je’ro barked.

I swelled and instantaneously shrank as suddenly all eyes were on me. I had no witty rebuttals to offer so I slowly began to remove my clothing. As I pulled my shirt over my head I heard a derisive chuckle and the conversation returned. I was a waif young man of 24, with only a minimal amount of musculature. Everyone had turned around to engage his conversational partner, except Je’ro, whose eyes burned into my naked skin. I stepped beneath the spray quickly and hung my head down. I felt humbled and humiliated, questioning my place amongst the giant men of Dalvar.

“Quit staring at the floor and wash, we only have 45 minutes before we must leave for the banquet.”

My eyes traveled up a pair of powerful thighs to a monstrously exaggerated cock. It easily was 8 inches soft and had not a single trace of hair around the base. It was plump and looked more like a truncheon than a penis. Though the head was covered in foreskin, I could still make out the very pronounced flanges of the glans. Water ran off the wrinkled tip in rivulets.

“See something you like, little boy,” the voice attached to the cock queried? I couldn’t bear to look up into Je’ro’s eyes.

“It looks like a baby’s, where your pubic hair,” I whispered?

“There are a number of disease-carrying parasites here on Dalvius, known to reside in the hairier regions of the body. It was simply more sanitary to remove the hair.”

“Oh, so you got crabs, huh?”

“Crabs?”

“Never mind.”

At that moment the water suddenly shut off and a bell tolled. “We have 30 minutes to prepare, come!”

We returned to his room to his room and I found my ‘clothes’ in a closet in the backroom. It consisted of a loose miniskirt and a shirt resembling a silk tank top, with two large broaches on the shoulder. I went searching for the underwear, but could not find any. Deciding to simply find the pair I had already been wearing I returned to the front room.

Je’ro was breath taking in his uniform, an erotic dream of splendor. The light blue top hugged every ripple and curve of his pectorals, which was were the top ended. The golden embroidery crisscrossed his chest, where the nipples lay exposed. His navel was adorned with a jeweled piercing, six blue stone circling an orange gem, matching Je’ro eyes. His skirt was a low-rise affair, the clung to his large thighs. I could clearly see the outline of his penis thru the thin material.

The wall panel gave a slight beep, followed by a 3 second tone. A familiar face popped up on the screen. It was the face of the ambassador John Seymour. He had large puffy dark rings under his eyes. His skin was colored a sallow yellow and appeared to be damp with sweat. He informed me hoarsely that he had contracted some sort of illness and would be unable to attend this evening banquet. He asked that I convey his apologies and accept any awards he might receive. I agreed and instructed him to see a doctor. The image flashed and faded into gray.

“Your friend has Hedroknias. The temperature, pollution, and humidity will kill him if he doesn’t leave Cherunt within the week. It is incurable.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. He should have stayed away from the prostitutes in the Galdar District; they are quite infamous for carrying a certain aforementioned parasite. Many an ancient, and modern, politician was exiled to the Polar Regions due to the condition. He will have to cede his position as ambassador; all official state business must take place inside of Cherunt.”

***

The evening had arrived on our side of Dalvius, and part of the true splendor of Cherunt became apparent. The pale bricks were iridescent; the whole city glowed with an ethereal light. The sky was sprinkled with stars, one of which was the sun of my home; I was unable to discern which.

The banquet room was festooned in banners and streamers. The lights were dim. There were hundreds of Felroni and other Dalvar officials and their companions dancing gaily. I noted that there were a good number of same-sex pairings.

We approached by Be’roth, dressed in the gray, cumbersome woolen-like robes of a hierarchy official. He wore a toothy grin across his face, as I watched him eye Je’ro. “I see you added a piercing, quite splendid. Have you already picked a Shurunti for this evening?”

“Yes, you know that I have.”

“So it is this one, then. Kei kanch urso beli ti Rollansh?”

“Yes, he has.”

“I hope you enjoy the festivities this evening Peter. Where is the ambassador hiding?”

“He’s taken ill this evening, he send his apologies. I will stand in his stead.”

“Ill, how unfortunate, nothing terribly virulent, I hope.”

“Hedroknias”

“Ahh, the whores of Galdar claim another I see. It might be prudent if you neglected to mention his, particular, illness to anyone else. Several of the prominent families have disgraced members in the Polar Regions for the exact same reason. Some were quite a bit distressed about their families’ decline, though I must thank it for my position. Congratulations on your promotion.”

“I’m only a temporary substitute. I’m sure a replacement will arrive in short order.” “I don’t think so.”

The chamber filled with the sound of a thousand tinkling bells for five seconds “Ahh, the official service will begin within the next three minutes. I hope you are well-versed in your Felroni, you won’t hear anymore English for the next two hours.”

“Dekti Lomank”

“Very good. Again congratulations.”

“Thank you, High Steward”

Be’roth strode away toward the central table. I had noticed that Je’ro had kept himself preoccupied by a rather bland tapestry.

“And what exactly Have I truly consented to Je’ro?”

“You’ll be glad you did later”

Again the room filled with the melodious chiming bells. All took their seats. Je’ro sat to my right. The meal was served first, a sumptuous banquet of trays of steaming Dalvar delicacies. Je’ro and I dined in silence.

The awards portion began, full of flowing exultations of services and honor rendered to the state by legions of functionaries. The level of intricate sophisticated speech began to sag halfway through the ceremony, as the various liquors and spirits began to take a toll; I had begun to notice the effects of the Japthon ale Je’ro had given me.

Be’roth rose from his chair and approached the podium. “It is my solemn duty to make two sad announcements before this evening gala continues. Sachim’Ok died this morning. His replacement will be announced at the end of this evening event,” his voice rising to quiet the murmurs that had begun all over the halls, “ I also must announce that ambassador Seymour has become ill. He must abdicate his position.”

“Hedroknias, both with Hedroknias!” someone shouted from the nether regions of the room. There were howls of anguish as hands pounded tables in outrage. The gentleman was escorted out of the room amid fists and kicking legs.

“Everyone, please Try to remain seemly! John’s condition has yet to be diagnosed and he is currently in transit to Earth. Peter Jacobson will be assuming his position in the interim. Now, let me state for the record that no one may receive an appointment or award unless he/she is present to receive it. So, I hereby award the position of Arkon Del Mito to Peter Jacobson.”

I rose from my seat to receive my new title, but Je’ro’s hands and eyes told me to stay by my chair. I nodded toward the dais.

“Thank you Mr. Jacobson. I hope that everyone will… enjoy the rest of this evening with his or her Shurunti.”

The lights faded completely to darkness, and a humming sound began. Suddenly the room was full of black lights. I noticed huge blemishes on the faces of men and women across the room. Those without blemishes raised from their chairs escort their blemished partners to the floor.

Dalvar mores were already pretty loose in most area, but add intoxicants and they are utterly unrestrained. Hands roved freely over breasts and buttocks. I saw one man licking wine off the chest of another. As I saw one lady spun by her partner I realized why I had no undergarments. The Dalvar didn’t wear any. They were huge proponents of free and easy access, literally; I soon found my eyes glued to a four-person fuckfest in the corner.

A formal state function had degenerated into a full-scale orgy. I hadn’t noticed when the dishes had all been cleared of the tables now doubling as beds. Moans and grunts filled the air, as well as the smell of sex. I drank a deep drought of my ale to steady myself. As I stared down into my mug I noticed something on my cheek. I had a blemish!

I looked over to Je’ro to answer me but he had a determined and solemn look on his face. I followed his eyes across the room. My eyes nearly jumped out. Be’roth had a young man of 20, maybe, bent over his table, fucking him with animal abandon. The poor boy looked as if he were in simultaneous agony and ecstasy. Be’roth eyes met Je’ro’s for a second and he winked, as he pounded the poor boy battered ass.

Je’ro finally looked down at me. He’s eyes were full of tears. He stared down at me and suddenly he’s burning lips were upon me. I was being sucked out through my mouth. His lips devoured my own; his hands were under my skirt. I looked down at his crotch and saw his penis rising obscenely past the material of the skirt. I broke his kiss and kneeled down next to his chair.

His cock was huge. The slimy head of his cock was the size of an egg, the skin retracted back in folds. I inhale the smell of his crotch as he pushes my head closer and closer to his stiff penis. I lick the underside of the head, with only the tip of my tongue and I felt his whole body shake.

I bathed his slit in my saliva and proceeded to slowly sink an inch of his thick meat into my mouth. I should not have been able to accommodate the size of his weapon, but my mouth stretched wider and wider until I felt his head pressing against the back of my throat. His large hands grabbed the back of my head, and he began sliding his cock back and forth over my hot tongue. His cock kept pressing against the back of mouth with every thrust, but I knew it couldn’t fit. Tears began to well in my eyes as I looked up into Je’ro’s face, rapt in pleasure. My jaw began to ache as I bobbed my head up and down his shaft.”

“Take it all, open your throat!”

I could only moan around his battering ram. I slid faster and faster up and down his cock, wring the sides with both my hands. I suddenly heard a roaring sound, and I was swallowing inch after inch of never-ending dick. I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t move. Je’ro dick slid deeper and deeper into my throat.

And then I heard Je’ro panting, I saw his mouth twist in agony, and I felt his hug balls pressed against my chin. His sack was growing tighter as his balls began bouncing against my chin.

And suddenly I felt he’s hands steady my head as his cock throbbed deep in my throat. His hands jerked my head back until his cock slid all the way out. It began to rain semen. Drops landed on my face, my hair, and my neck, everywhere. Long arc of cum sailed thru the air unto a couple behind us. Je’ro placed the head back in my mouth and fired one last volley into my mouth, while I rolled the head over my tongue, swallowing every drop. Je’ro collapsed in his chair.

A light voice said, “It is time to announce the 152nd Sachim” as the moans across the room grew louder and louder. Women screamed and me grunted. The smell of sweat and sex was now overpowering. The overhead lights began to flash on and off. And then It began; A 3 minute long moan of ecstasy. I stared at the crowd in the center of the room. Je’ro and me were the only two missing from the pile of legs, arms, cocks, assholes, cunts, and mouths. Sweat ran in river from the quivering mass of Dalvars. It might be important to tell you what a Sachim is. It might be inaccurate to say the Sachim is God incarnate, but that’s the literal translation in English. They are not all powerful, but respected and highly sought after for blessing and advice. They had a Co-Sachim to whom they were eternally wed. The full formal title for the co-Sachim is Shur’sachim’unti.

The selection is random. They consult some secret oracle thing, out pops a name. The selection of the Sachim has been a nasty affair, especially when some idiot was chosen. They’d turned small family feuds into disastrous civil wars, before they were stripped of the absolute powers. Now they just get the palace in the center of town, mediate disputes, and sit on the throne at religious ceremonies.

“The 152nd Sachim is Je’ro, all hail Sachim’Ro.”

Je’ro cock erupted for a second time, directly against my cheek. His head was thrown back and his eyes were rolled back, giving him the appearance of one possessed. The various functionaries disentangled themselves from the pile, forming a line behind me. The first had a pained look on his face, as if I was deny him nirvana. I moved to the left and he bowed before Je’ro powerful thighs. He leaned forward, sucked on Je’ro cock for a couple seconds and returned to the center of the room. Everyone present followed his lead, with an occasional hanger-on. Each and every one covered in sweat and secretions, without a hint of shame or impropriety.

When the last one finished sprinklers in the roof turned on, showering the room in warm soapy spray; The Dalvars danced in glee, washing one another while laughing and occasionally caressing. They certainly had an interesting notion of governmental solidarity.

***

I know, all these words and so little sex, there’ll be a lot more in chapter 2. Send comments to: joneslx@juno.com