Honeymoon

Carrion and I have a serious 'Aztec' fetish. The culture, the dress, theritual sacrifice, piercing and bloodletting... even their poetry and art. Ihave an aztec (not the right word for them, I know, but most people know themby this name, so that's what I'll be calling them) character, and Carrion has afew different spanish/conquistador characters. Usually our games involvesacrifice but since we had our honeymoon at a private get-away in the countrymiles from anyone...
I was in nothing but my moccasins and loincloth, with some rope and awalking stick I had found earlier. Carrion was dressed fairly normally.
We decided that this conquistador of hers had stolen something from one ofthe pyramids or priests. Camaxtli, my aztec, was told to chase him through thejungle and bring him back alive.
I gave her a head start, then I was after her. I love chasing her,especially since we had the prairie and the forest all to ourselves. We had twochases that day. The first one was over pretty quickly. Mostly because I jumpeda hedge (almost gave myself a heart attack too, I thought I was going to tripand die, but it was hard not to go all out once I was playing). I caught herabout 20ft from where we started.
I pushed her to her knees, stepped on her back and tied her arms around thewalking stick. I bound her arms uncomfortably around the five-six foot stick soit was tucked in her elbows and her wrists were tied across her belly. I ledher back to the temple to be dealt with :D
The second time we chased it was evening, the sun was setting. We were bothwearing pants this time (too many insects for me, sadly) but still had themoccasins. I gave Carrion a two minute head start and then took after her,listening for her. It took me longer than I expected, mostly because I wouldhear wildlife rustling and assume it was her. I actually fell off a log in themiddle of the forest and scraped myself up. I was glad nothing was broken diesof embarrassment.
Eventually I saw her when we were almost at the river and sped up. I nearlycaught her on the bank, but she managed a sprint and got maybe another thirtyfeet before she tried to climb back up the bank. I grabbed her, forced her tothe ground and tied her in the same way, forcing her all the way back home (atleast a five minute walk from the river)
Yay for hunting down, capturing, binding and taking home an unwillingcaptive.
grin
***
Carrion and I have a love of cultures, if you haven't noticed. For awhile wewere really into the samurai, so of course we had to do a 'samurai' roleplaywhile we were away.
The building we were in had a large meditation room, with wooden floors andrice paper privacy screens and a fireplace.
So I let the fire, set out some candles, and captured myself a samurai.
At first I had her tied up, but I released her soon, as she swore not toescape.
I poured her some tea and we talked for awhile. I interrogated her verycarefully, slowly, making sure to ask questions several different ways to getthe answers I needed.
When we reached a certain point in the RP it was impossible to tell if shewould give me the truth or not. I grabbed her wrist and held her arm over oneof the nearby candles, her skin burning. I continued to ask her questions. Shetook it very well. I used hot wax as well, with the same results. As soon as Iwas satisfied that she'd been honest the entire time I released her.
It was all fairly 'dignified', I was careful not to humiliate her charactertoo much. Everything was done with a great deal of respect.
But I loved it :D

Calixto and Huehuecoyotl

Calixto is imprisoned by the Inquisition, on charges of heresy and witchcraft. He's huddled in his cell, awaiting the priests.

The door banged open and he was seized by his wrists and dragged out of the cell. They drag him down a hallway to a torch-lit dungeon and snap his ankles into shackles.

He is shivering with terror, biting his lip to keep from whimpering, and to keep his lip from trembling.

A strong man starts hauling on a chain and Calixto is pulled up by his ankles into the air, hanging upside down. Several other men push a large metal tub of water underneath him. A priest approaches him. "Do you wish to repent?"

Calixto is shaking so badly he can hardly speak, but he manages to stammer, "Repent for what? I've done nothing..." in a faint whisper.

"If you do not confess to me of your dalliances with the devil, you cannot repent and your immortal soul will burn." The priest's voice cut over the sounds of screaming from a contraption in the corner.

"Ohgodpleasedon't!" he cries in a rush, horrified tears running up his face. "Please, I don't even know what I'm being accused of!"

"Witchcraft." the priest intoned.

"Witchcraft?" he says, trying not to sound incredulous. "I know nothing about witchcraft. Please, there's been a terrible mistake..."

"You will not confess?"

"I-I can't confess to something I haven't done! That would be a lie!" he cries, his voice rising with panic.

The priest nodded to the man at the chain and Calixto was lowered into the water.

Calixto screams as he's lowered, the sound cut off by the water. He thrashes as much as he can, churning the water--he hadn't even had time to take in a proper breath.

After what seemed like an eternity, Calixto was pulled back up from the water. The priest asked his same question again.

Coughing, his eyes running so badly he can hardly see, he can only dangle there, gasping and trying to breathe.

"Confess!"

Calixto is frozen with indecision--on one hand, he can't confess to something he hasn't done, but on the other, these men are priests, men he's been taught from birth to respect and obey. If only he could think clearly, if only he wasn't so frightened.

*Do you really think they aren't going to kill you?* murmured a quiet, laughing voice in his head.

The terrified young man cries out, startled by the voice. "...what?" he asks, glancing around, deciding it must have been one of the priests.

"I asked you to confess, boy!" the priest grabbed him by his soaking wet hair.

*He doesn't care if you're guilty, he's enjoying this.* the voice snickered. *You can see the bulge in his robes.*

Calixto cries out again at the sharp jerk on his hair, staring around him in confusion. "No! That's not true!" he screams. "Stop it!"

"He is posessed by a demon!" cried the priest.

*Hah! The man doesn't even know a god from a demon.*

"Please...stop talking...you're confusing me..." he says, helplessly. "A demon! No...I just..."

"Lower him!"

*Ah, finally some quiet.* the voice sighed once Calixto's head was lowered under the water. *Now, do you want to live?*

"Yes!" Calixto cries, forgetting that he's underwater. He tries to cough the water back out and almost drowns himself right there.

*Ah, good. Corpses are never as much fun.* the voice sounded delighted.

Calixto was raised back out of the water and suddenly the tub rocked and fell, rolling. The water poured out, knocking the priest off his feet. The chain holding Calixto's ankles up snapped and he found himself tumbling to the earth.

*Get up and run.*

He obeys without thinking, running almost blindly for the door.

*Up the stairs.* the voice commands.

Not stopping to question the voice for now, he keeps running up the stairs. When he gets to the top, he stops, panting. "Who are you?" he says out loud.

*Don't stop. There are keys on the table there, they'll open the outside gate.* Calixto could feel his body being almost physically pushed. *There are men following you.*

Calixto cries out at the strange feeling, but does as he's told. He grabs the keys and runs for the gate, and this time he doesn't stop running until he's in some nearby trees. "Am I safe here?" he asks.

*For now. I'm Coyote.*

"...Calixto..." he says, hesitantly. "...where are you?"

"In you." the voice said, using Calixto's voice.

The young man feels the hairs on the back of his neck rising. "...you are a demon!" he gasps.

"I expect an apology for that. I'm a god." his own voice rings out angrily.

"I'm sorry!" he cries, wincing at the powerful voice. "I didn't mean to offend you. ...thank you for saving me..."

*Good. Apology accepted. And you're welcome. As long as I'm hitching a ride on a Spanish boy, I may as well keep him alive. I'm not sure what you do with your dead in this heathen part of the world, but it can't be terribly interesting.*

"...please..." Calixto says, helplessly. "What's going on?"

*I found you when you were in the jungle, Calixto. You took me home with you.* the voice chuckled. *And please, stop speaking aloud, there are men looking for you.*

"...how else should I talk to you?" he whispers, ignoring the rest for the moment.

*Think, boy.* the voice commanded him.

"Think what?" he says, sounding increasingly desperate.

*Think what you'd say to me in your head.* the god laughed.

*oh* he thinks, laughing nervously. *like this?*

*Yes. That will do.*

*What do you mean, I found you in the jungle? What's going on? Are you a demon? Why did you save me?*

*I am an Nahuatl god.* the voice boomed in his head, forcing him to his knees. *I am Old Coyote and you will not call me a demon again.*

Calixto covers his ears, as if that will help with something in his head, bending forward until his face is almost pressed to the ground, biting his lip to keep from screaming. *Yes! I'm sorry! Please, I'm just very frightened!*

*Good boy. Stay down, they're close.* As the men passed, the god murmured quietly in Calixto's ear. *I liked the look of you, you were like a frightened deer in your armour. I've followed you since I saw you marching. You've noticed your dreams changing, haven't you?*

Calixto flattens himself to the ground as quietly as he can. He finds himself blushing--somehow, this innocuous statement sounds...naughty. Frightened deer sounds much more predatory and sexual than the words alone imply. *Ah...changing?* he asks.

*What did you dream of last night?*

*Ah...I don't remember...* he lies

*Did it involve kneeling in front of a beautiful dark man and taking his cock in your mouth?* the god chuckled.

The young man gasps, face bright red. To his horror, he finds himself getting hard at the memory. "No!" he cries, aloud.

*Now they've heard you. You should run.*

Calixto scrambles to his feet and starts running wildly through the trees. *Please help!* he begs the creature--he can't think of the voice as a god--in his head.

*Help?* Coyote asked innocently.

*Yes! Where can I go? I can't go home, they'll just drag me back here!* he thinks as he runs, not sure where he's going.

*This isn't my home, it's yours. You have no ideas?* the god laughed.

*Don't you have some sort of...god powers?* he asks, screaming in his own mind. He wonders, briefly, if he's going insane.

*Of course. I've already reversed your fate, what more do you want?*

*What do you mean 'reversed my fate'?*

*I tipped over the tub and broke the chain.*

*How was that reversing my fate? That was...I don't know...* He finds himself on the road, and comes to a stop. *Should I stay on the road, or keep going through the woods?*

*You were meant to die. I reversed your fate and allowed you the chance to make your own. Go through the woods.*

*Thank you.* He keeps running through the woods, still thinking furiously to the strange voice in his head. *What do you mean, meant to die? They were going to kill me, I wasn't...you know...meant to die. And I couldn't have been, because you saved me, and everything happens because God wills it.* His head is starting to hurt.

*There are many gods, boy, and I willed that you lived. You were going to die in that water within the next day. I could have waited longer, but if I had, you wouldn't have had the strength to run.* Coyote said simply. *If I hadn't intervened when I did, you would be hanging there still, waiting to die.*

Calixto swallows hard, suddenly humbled. *...thank you...* he thinks, not sure what else he can say. *But why did you save me? If you are what I think you are...wouldn't I be your enemy?*

*I am a god, men are not my enemy. Only gods have that honor.* he chuckled. *Though I do not understand the Spanish and I adore my Nahuatl people, I do not believe they will ever be conquered. Therefore I have no reason to hate you.*

*Oh. That's good. Thank you...* He thinks for a moment. *What do you want?*

*You.*

This answer is not at all what he's expecting. *Me?! Why? I mean...don't you want to go home, or get worshippers, or something?*

*I have all the sustenance I want. At the moment, I desire you. I enjoy virgins and you're quite exotic.*

Calixto realizes he's blushing again. *Ah...that's...inappropriate! And hardly the time for that kind of talk! I need a plan, not...*

*There's a little cave, would that do?* Coyote interrupted him, chuckling darkly.

*...I'm going to assume you mean to hide in. And yes, I think so...but I'll need food and things eventually.*

*We can deal with that when we need to.* Coyote laughs. *Go on, Calixto.*

*...you say...think...my name funny...* he thinks with a little frown. *But it's...pretty. Where is this cave?*

*Left. Duck down. And that is the way your name should be said.*

He laughs a little at being told the way his name -should- be said, after 23 years of being alive. *...alright...* he thinks, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, and following the instructions until he reaches the cave. He pushes some shrubbery out of the way and creeps in, pushing the bushes in front again.

*You can rest, they're a ways behind you.* Coyote told him.

*Thank you, again. Now...could you tell me more about why you're here, and what's going on, and what you want with me, and what's going to happen, and what your plans are...please?*

Preparation

“Diego, I need you to help me prepare.” Camaxtli enters their room without warning, as always. He is holding a reed and a jug.

Diego, who had been drowsing, is instantly awake when the other enters. “Of course. How can I help?”

"I will show you." he said. He led Diego outside to their small yard, where he slid the reed into his anus -without bothering with any lubrication- he bled a little. "You pour water through the reed. Slowly."

Diego is quite shocked by this. “What is this for?” he asks, trying to keep his voice neutral--he doesn’t want to make Camaxtli feel like he’s insulting his beliefs.

"Purification, for certain ceremonies." Camaxtli let Diego pour all the water in. "Take out the reed." he told him. When he was done, Camaxtli dug himself a hole and covered it up when he was done squatting. "Where is Miguel?" he asked Diego, watching his sacrifice.

“I think he’s shopping,” Diego said, still a little startled by what’s just happened.

"I do not understand why he does that so often." Camaxtli said. "I won't need you for the sacrifice tonight. I'd like you to stay somewhere else until I come and get you."

“Are you sure? I thought you were preparing for a ceremony,” Diego asks.

"No." The Aztec laughed. "The god I sacrifice to tonight does not want human blood."

Diego wonders if feces can be sacrificed to a god. "Oh." The laughter startles him, and he's suddenly tempted to hug the other. He turns to leave instead.

Camaxtli grabbed him by the wrist. "I didn't say to leave yet."

Diego froze, nestling against Camaxtli, hoping the other won't notice.

Camaxtli pulled back his head, biting his neck none too gently.

Diego's neck and back arch, from startled pleasure. His cock grows erect.

Smiling like a jaguar, Camaxtli went to his knees, taking Diego's cock in his mouth.

Diego nearly cums on the spot, his head snapping backward, hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms.

Using his fingernail, Camaxtli cut a line down the length of Diego's cock, letting it bleed for a moment before lapping it up.

Diego cries out, the unexpected sensation ruining his last drop of control, adding semen to the blood.

Camaxtli drinks it, waiting until the blood had stopped flowing before standing again

Diego feels his knees go weak, his nails digging harder into his palms as he fights to stay standing.

Camaxtli brought him to their 'bed', pushing him down and laying with him.

Diego more or less falls, coiling as close to Camaxtli as possible.

Camaxtli pets the boy's hair, being surprisingly gentle.

"That was...unexpected..." he murmurs.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

Diego blushes. "That...act...I always thought it would be me performing it on you..."

"And why is that?" he seemed a little amused, but he wasn't smiling

"It...I always thought...was something done for a more...powerful man."

"Hm." Camaxtli bit his ear gently, pulling with his teeth.

Diego shivers, twisting over top of Camaxtli.

Camaxtli laughed again, clawing his fingernails down the other's bare back.

Diego alternately sprawls, twists and writhes, both seeking and avoiding Camaxtli's nails.

Camaxtli continues to claw him, wrestling almost playfully.

He bit the other's shoulder, growling a little.

Diego finally laughs as Camaxtli finds a ticklish spot, an open, boyish sound, much as he must have sounded when alive. It's been a long time since he laughed so freely.

He smirks, pinning the other and biting his shoulder all the way up to his ear. Camaxtli growls a little in the Spaniard's ear.

Diego honest-to-god giggles, murmuring a quick, breathy "Loveyou" into Camaxtli's ear.

Camaxtli actually purred, murmuring it back to him in nahuatl.

Diego understood the tone, if not the words. (Although Camaxtli's tone could occasionally be deceptive.) Cautiously he lick-nibbled his lord's neck.

Camaxtli stroked the other man's hair gently, closing his eyes, enjoying the feelings.

Diego yawned, his jaw cracking, into the easy silence. He grinned a bit sheepishly, making happy, sleepy murmurs.

"Nehua monequiltia-ti." he murmured again, laughing softly.

Diego tries to repeat it, stumbling heavily over the strange words.

"Hm. Try it again." he said, surprisingly patient.

The Spaniard grins softly, looking very young, very innocent and open. "I...like it when you're happy like this. With me." He rolls his head to gaze at the other man.

"Hmm, you've pleased me." he stroked Diego's hair out of his face gently.

Diego smiles, nodding. "Neh...nehua moneh...tequila. Tea."

Camaxtli chuckled softly, biting the other's ear again gently.

Diego gives a happy groan, rapidly drifting off. Sleep doesn't usually come to him easily, and he welcomes it.

The Aztec stays awake, stroking the Spaniard's hair softly and letting him sleep. He will wait for Miguel to return before moving Diego and performing his sacrifice.

A Light Man in a Dark Place

It begins with running, sweating, panting. His idea of love and his idea of the hunt, the chase, are very similar. Oh, God, I had hoped I would never see him again. His hand is on the back of my neck, tangled deep in my hair, so I can't move. (Even if I wanted to). His knee is between my legs, grinding, almost to the rhythm of his over-quick heartbeat. It hurts, his face is so close to mine, his eyes, his mouth, his nostrils open wide with rage and triumph. His face is all I can see. His scent..I had hardly seen his face before. I hadn't wanted to. Not ever. I remember with my whole body, my hips moving to meet his grinding knee, and we both scream.

He screams like a jungle cat, one I've never seen, but heard every night in this terrible place. He's on his knees, dragged straight out in front of him by laughing monsters. Men I've known for months, spent every hour with. I never met them before today. This savage on the ground in front of me, I understand better. There's a hand on the back of my neck, tangled deep in my hair, not one strand different than it is now. "Fuck him," he says, pushing me down so I'm bent over his broad, dark back, like I never will be again. I pray to God and all the Saints that I will somehow get hard, somehow be able to convince them. Hating myself, this prayer.

We enter each other. My cock fills his already bleeding ass, his force offering. His knife enters my chest, creating an opening. Time collides with itself, our eyes lock, and I die at long last. I thank him with my last breath. This is all it took, after all this time. If only I had stayed and let him finish me, I could have been dust by now.

In the end it didn't matter. I woke, if that's what it is, in his arms. His mouth and arms were covered in my blood, his hair matted with it, his eyes wild with it. He watched me wake, this terrible, beautiful god-child. I couldn't believe how young he was...had been...

"You're mine," he said, with the certainty of death, the knowledge of God. And I was: and I have been.

He held me, and I cried, and prayed, and screamed. He showed as little comprehension as a statue, but he didn't move. Didn't push me away. Didn't kill me again.

Finally, perhaps to quiet the unbearable sounds filling my mouth, spilling up out of me, he kissed me, my blood filling my mouth and silencing me. He smiled, bitter and full of teeth as a cactus, and pushed me into the position he wanted. Kneeling, arms dragged out in front of me. I knew what he wanted, what he would take. And I wanted it.

I knew that it would finally make me complete.

I didn't move.

Jaguar Dreams

Butterfly wings hover over my face, my eyes, my mouth. I feel their delicate legs trailing over my flesh, waiting for me to move.

Wings spread, larger and larger, until all I can see are bright splashes and spots of colour, like looking at a jewel through water. The butterflies shift, restless, drawn to the massive god of their kind, wings, butterfly wings of unimaginable size, not seen, only felt, rip through my back, and I scream. The sound is lost in the wild beating of the countless smaller butterflies.

I begin to fly.

Back.

Back in time, back in place, back to where it began, hurled back on massive jewel-wings that have stolen me.

Steam rises in breath-stealing heat. It is early morning, and the sun has risen just enough to begin to burn the gods-given rain sent by the night. I remember, outside the dream, when I first came to this land. The other hated it, called it black, heathen, evil. They thought it would kill them (I suppose it did).

I had heard of a creature, a cat, like a leopard. But like nothing else, at the same time. The jaguar. It was worshiped as a god, I was told. I wanted to know why. I wanted to see a jaguar.

I didn't hate this place. See where it got me.

A jaguar, larger than any natural beast, and the cold colour of good jade, waits in a clearing. His fiery green eyes, set in a living stone face, stare upward. He sees me. Although I am high, high in the air, I can see him so clearly. Blood drips from his fangs. My blood. A horrible and intoxicating contrast to the green of his teeth and muzzle, the red, almost glowing in the pre-dawn light, pools and dribbles at his paws. The wings-that-are-not-mine tip, and we descend to the waiting god-cat. I don't know his name. Names are power, and I am powerless.

I clutch at the massive wings above me, shuddering at the velvet covered scales of the monster butterfly. I've never felt anything like it. I hope I never do again. I pull and tear, trying to make the relentless wings turn or halt. Anything but face the jaguar waiting below. Watching.

I may as well pull on my own arm. The wings that have sprouted from my back are not mine, but are as firmly attached as any part of my body.

We land. The jaguar ignores me, for the moment, watching the wings. After a moment, I again feel horrible pressure on my back. A moment of agony later, and the god-butterfly has pulled free, taking most of the skin of my back with it. The blood runs down my rump, down my legs, flows over my feet. I can hear it being called by the blood at the jaguar's paws, an almost-audible sound. They're both my blood, but the jaguar changed it. Whether it was mine to begin with, it's his now. The fresh blood from my back runs toward him, most unnaturally.

Small butterflies emerge from the trees, touching, caressing their god, checking it for injuries from my hands, or simply wanting to touch it, be one with it.

The gods begin to speak. It's like your language, the language of the gods, but more powerful. Each word is like a mouthful of the steam that still flows from each leaf, trailing skyward.

Even the jungle makes blood sacrifice, here.

Each word burns my mouth, nose, ears, eyes, like standing too close to a fire.

I close my eyes, cover my ears.

I must have lost consciousness in my dream. When I awake, the butterfly is gone. The jaguar and I are alone.

Camaxtli poem

Today the taste of chocolate

makes me feel sick,

sick with the taste of memories and blood

of murder and sacrifice

When the Spanish came

to the new chocolate-world

they found men ready to kill

ready to bleed

also ready to die,

we are gods-touched, they said

you are gods, they whispered

but only at first

soon enough they learned,

these new men were no gods,

when the Spanish came

to the new tobacco-world

they brought men ready to kill

ready to bleed

but not ready to die.

We are God- touched, they said

you are heathens, they shouted

and it is this shout we remember.

Today the taste of chocolate makes me sick,

sick with the taste of memories and blood

of murder and inquisition

When the Spanish came

from the old dead world

they brought with them

the ghosts and screams

of those killed for their God.

My heart is a palm frond

My heart is a palm frond,

waving in the breeze.

A fire has started at my root,

but for now,

my leaves are still free.