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The Black Tower	By : Porkoid Category: S through Z > Wheel of Time Series Views: 2277 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Wheel of Time and I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1
- 1
This is quite embarrassing, Rand thought to himself, as he channeled a thin stream of water in and out of his ass. Feels so good, though.

He was still soaking wet from his bath; water droplets slid over the heated skin of his back, arms, and legs; more water dripped from his hair and soaked the expensive Tairen rug under his feet. Rand exhaled and shifted on the edge of the bathtub, where he sat, elbows on his knees, ass hanging over the water surface.

Every so often, the stream -- or, rather, a finger-wide rod of water -- brushed against that wonderful spot just on the inside of him and made him quiver with pleasure.

“Mmm.” Light! It feels bloody amazing.

Rand bit his lip, willing himself to stay silent. At that moment, he could’ve sworn that all of the blood inside his body was concentrated in his cock. Swollen and hard as a granite, it jerked ever-so-slightly whenever the water touched his prostate. The head was angry purple in color, and clear hot liquid leaked from the tip.

The more Rand stared at his cock, the more grew the urge to play with it. It would’ve been so easy -- to grip it firmly, stroke it just right, just the way he liked, with a twisting motion at the top and back down again; slowly, savoring the pull and drag of his foreskin over the underside of the head, and… Abruptly, Rand realized his hand was hovering over the erection. No. Not yet. Gritting his teeth, he redirected his hand to grip his knee instead. I can control myself. An Asha’man will be here soon; it’d be a shame if I come before the real fun begins. Light, I’m way too excited already. The combination of saidin rushing through him like molten ecstasy and the physical pressure against his prostate was almost more than Rand could handle.

I really should stop now, he thought, light-headed. The pleasure, steadily building somewhere deep inside the base of his cock, started to become a little too much. Just a couple more strokes. He channeled, making the water rod rub his prostate firmly, and scrunched his eyes shut, fighting against the need for release. It took a while -- several dosen of sex sessions with men and women, to be precise -- but Rand had learned, through trial and error, that delaying one’s orgasm was part of the game.

Mastering control became another matter altogether when he started sleeping with the male channelers, though; something about the alluring combination of awe and danger that emanated from the Asha’man made his heart beat faster. For good reasons, as Lews Therin told him later. Whereas women who could channel felt a kinship, men felt something else altogether -- an overwhelming, overpowering lust. And the more powerful a male channeler, the more other men wanted him and he wanted them in return. Sporting an erection every time a black-coated figure entered his field of vision became somewhat inconvenient -- hence the “private lessons” that Rand arranged with the trustworthy Asha’man. Too bad they took ages to decide on whose turn it was to rail Rand into the mattress.

They’d better hurry up already. I wonder who it will be this time? Sandomere, probably -- he spent way too much time ogling me this afternoon. Not that I mind. He is an axe-handle across the shoulders, even if a little thick around the middle, and it’d be nice to see him in action.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. With a little bit of mental effort, Rand changed the weave so that the rod of water inside of him became rock-hard -- a poor imitation of the real cock, but it would do. He shifted his weight forward and stood up a little, knees still bent. Then he began grinding on the rod, moving his hips in a slow, undulating motion. Back and forth, back and forth. The strain to hold his body weight excited him even more; waves of warm pleasure radiated throughout his entire groin and--

The sudden knock on the door made Rand jump. He released saidin and stood up. Ouch. The muscles in his thighs protested immediately; he may have spent way too long sitting on the edge of that bathtub. Rand blushed at the thought, then berated himself for feeling self-conscious. It’s not like he was caught doing something nasty -- he was a grown man and could do whatever he wanted in his own room. As all men did. And so what if he milked his prostate for over an hour? It was the Asha’man’s own fault for making him wait that long.

With that in mind, Rand headed for the door, but before he could take a few steps, it opened -- soundlessly, as of he wasn’t already losing his mind here. Of all people, it was Narishma who walked in.

Rand froze. The Asha’man’s gaze raked over his naked body, lingering on his erection.

Oh, Light. What should I do?

Fuck him, FUCK HIM, NOW, screamed Lews Therin. Rand tried to ignore him, but he couldn’t get the thought out of his head. His heart gave a lurch when the Asha’man moved. Narishma approached him at a leisurely pace, self-assured and imposing.

He didn’t hesitate; one hand cupped the back of Rand’s neck, massaging the skin there, while the other snaked around his waist, pressing him close. And then Jahar’s plump lips were on his. Rand felt the familiar heat pool in his lower belly as Jahar kneaded his lips slowly. A hint of Jahar’s tongue would dart out every now and then, just enough to make Rand’s head spin but not enough to quell the flames of desire coming to life under his skin.

Moaning through the kiss, Rand thrust his own tongue into Jahar’s mouth -- two could play at this game -- and pressed himself against the Asha’man. The feeling of his naked body rubbing against the coarse material of the Asha’man’s coat was strangely exciting. Rand felt his cheeks burn with blush. Jahar was all hard angles and taunt muscle. He had a day’s worth of stubble and it scraped lightly against Rand’s lips -- a sharp contrast to the softness of his tongue.

Jahar broke the kiss with a wet noise, panting for breath. “You don’t have any idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He caressed Rand’s back, then slid his hands lower, squeezing Rand’s bottom. “The others got their turn, but not me? Do you not trust me, my lord Dragon? After everything I’ve done for you?”

“Well,” Rand mumbled, suddenly at a loss for words. It was difficult to think when strong hands kneaded the flesh of his back and the juncture between his ass and thighs. Jahar was looking at him with those dark, dark eyes, demanding an answer, and Rand had to swallow against the burning desire scratching at his throat. Jahar was handsome; sun-kissed skin, gleaming in the candlelight, long lashes, and two thick braids with silver bells on the ends -- nature rarely bestowed such beauty and sense of style on men. The other Asha’man, the ones Rand was also giving “private lessons” to, looked rougher, plainer, but they fucked with a simple, honest mindset that Rand had come to appreciate. And Narishma… Well, Rand hadn’t let the handsome youth take him yet.

“Do you think I won’t satisfy you?” Jahar practically growled against his neck and kissed it roughly. Shuddering, Rand melted in Jahar’s arms, the pleasure flowing directly to his pulsating cock.

“Um, I mean,” Rand blabbered once he was able to catch his breath. “It’s just, I wasn’t sure you’d want to be the one in control, and--”

“Shut up, al’Thor.” Jahar bit his neck, sucking on the skin urgently. Rand’s hips jerked in response and grasped one of Jahar’s braids to steady himself. Jahar tightened his grip on Rand’s ass, then slapped it hard, startling Rand out of the pleasant haziness clouding his mind. The suddenness of the gesture, the burn, the humiliation -- all of them felt so good it hurt.

***

Gripping Rand by the hips, Narishma threw him on the bed nearby. Head spinning, Rand sank softly into the assortment of down-filled pillows, feeling every muscle in his body sing with anticipation. Light! We hadn’t even started yet, and I’m already on the edge of coming. If Jahar keeps this up... I won’t last much longer.

The way the Asha’man was looking at him didn’t help the matters. Rand found himself captivated by the glimmer of hunger in the Asha’man’s eyes; hunger for his body, his power -- his soul, even. It did things to Rand, to be desired so urgently. Shamelessly.

Narishma licked his lips. “Seize saidin. As much as you can hold. I want to feel you overflowing with power.”

“You first,” Rand breathed, and moaned at the sudden sense of force and menace as the Power flooded into the Asha’man. Lews Therin shrieked inside Rand’s head. He reached out to the Source as well, wrestling for dominance; the battle against the liquid flames and crushing waves, that turned all the sweeter the more saidin Rand drew.

The resonance… He wasn’t sure if it was Lews Therin or him who voiced the thought. The Power coursing through Rand found its equal inside Jahar -- a hurricane meeting an earthquake. Everything felt intense, like it always did with the One Power, every sensation magnified a thousand-fold. He could see the smallest flecks of dust shimmering in the faint light, hear the Asha’man’s heartbeat, smell his fresh sweat. Rand was so lost in the senses that the feeling of Narishma’s deft fingers sinking into his hole caught him off-guard.

Jahar probed deeper, searching Rand’s face. “You are stretched already. Hmm.” He added two more fingers and curled them up, searching for the prostate. And oh, did he find it -- Rand couldn’t contain the whimpers of pleasure as his secret spot was mercilessly stimulated over, and over again.

Narishma smirked and looked down, where his fingers disappeared inside Rand. “The others warned me that you have the thirstiest hole, al’Thor. Spread your legs and hold them open.”

Rand blushed furiously. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or offended -- the only thing he knew was that the most intimate part of his body was right in front of the Asha’man, in full view. He bent his knees, grabbed his ankles and spread his legs as far as he could. The change of position shifted Narishma’s fingers still inside him, and Rand let out a helpless “mmmh” when they moved against the prostate just so. He clenched -- involuntarily -- when his cock leaked a fat drop of pre-come on his stomach.

Narishma cupped his balls with the other hand, massaging them. He seemed transfixed on the way Rand’s scrotum moved to escape the heat of his palm.

“Having fun?” Rand asked, both mortified and thrilled at the attention.

Jahar shrugged, meeting his gaze. “You have nice balls; they are heavy and full. I like it.”

Light! Rand swallowed, oddly pleased with the assessment. No one had ever told him that before. He tried to think of a fitting comeback, but all thoughts left him when Narishma suddenly gave his balls a firm squeeze and slapped them. Hard.

“Ah! What?--”

“Keep your legs spread, al’Thor. If you want me to stop, just say so.” Narishma reached his hand to stroke Rand’s cock in reassurance. “Yes?”

“Yeah,” Rand breathed, hardly able to believe how much Narishma’s antics turned him on.

I told you, murmured Lews Therin. We should’ve had sex with him a long time ago.

Shut up, Rand replied. His eyes rolled back in his head, eyelashes fluttering; Narishma chose that moment to move his fingers inside of him again. Everytime Rand started to get breathless, the Asha’man slapped his balls -- the mingled pleasure and humiliation making Rand’s cock throb. He was so hard it ached. Sweat ran down Rand’s temples, his neck, trickled inside the light dusting of red hair on his chest; it beaded on his arms, thighs, legs -- he felt overheated and cold at the same time, shivering at the smallest touch.

Narishma teased him for some more, then pulled out his fingers, breathing heavily. He was still fully dressed and wasn’t making the slightest effort to fix that. Rand wanted to wail. I swear, if I have to wait one more second-- But Narishma appeared to have heard him, because in the next moment he matter-of-factly undid the laces on his pants and revealed the most gorgeous penis Rand had ever seen.

Long and fully hard, with a pinkish head pushing past the foreskin, Jahar’s cock was as pretty as the man himself -- who would’ve thought? Rand licked his lips, staring at a delicate blue vein that was barely visible under the skin of the cock. Rand wanted nothing more than to trace it with his tongue.

Narishma stroked himself lazily, watching Rand through half-lidded eyes. “Oil?” he asked. Lightly, as one might ask to pass him the salt at the table. The sense of force that emanated from the Asha’man was at odds with his polite tone, and the combination of danger and Narishma’s iron self-control sent Rand’s heart racing.

“In the drawer.”

Nodding, Narishma scooted off the bed, his long cock wobbling with the movement, and began searching the drawer’s contents.

Hurry up, urged Rand, feeling abandoned with the loss of the Asha’man’s touch. The vial should be right there. He let his legs lower to the bed, feeling a little self-conscious about his vulnerable position. His leaking cock pointed at him accusingly. I know, Rand thought, looking at it in dismay. I know, poor fella. He chewed on his bottom lip, glancing at Narishma. The latter still rummaged through the drawer, much to Rand’s frustration, and seemed oblivious to Rand’s condition.

Sighing, Rand decided to take the matters in his own hands, knowing full well that he would be punished for this. He smoothed a hand over his chest and pinched a nipple, rolling the little nub between his fingers and pulling at it lightly. His other hand found his erection and began stroking -- Rand wanted tonight to last, but the ache in his cock was unbearable, and he wanted -- no, needed -- to come.

One stroke followed another, and soon the ache slowly began to be replaced with sharp pleasure. Yes, yes, yes, please, oh Light! His toes curled, abs flexed. Rand sped up his hand, feeling the familiar pressure build inside his long-suffering cock. The room filled with the slick sounds of his strokes, but Rand didn’t care. Just a few more…

“Al’Thor!”

Uh-oh. Rand opened his eyes -- he didn’t remember closing them -- and was met with Narishma’s glare.

A tight weave of Air wrapped around Rand’s cock and balls, squeezing almost to the point of pain. Rand sobbed, feeling the climax recede; the tidal murmur of blood rushing towards his groin slowed down to a trickle. He felt like he was about to burst. The dull ache returned with a vengeance.

“Turn over,” Narishma commanded. “On your hands and knees.”

Rand obeyed grudgingly, frustrated beyond measure. I need some friction, please, anything -- I can’t take it anymore.

He whined when Narishma battered his hand away as he reached to stroke himself. “No-no, you aren’t allowed to touch yourself without my permission. You’ve been a very” -- Rand felt Narishma pat his bottom and spread the cheeks --”very naughty boy.”

Rand felt tears well in his eyes. “Just let me come already,” he begged in a broken voice. Burn the dignity -- he wanted to come so badly.

Narishma hesitated, hands still caressing Rand’s round cheeks. “You know you can cut the weave anytime you want to, right? And if you want me to stop, I will.”

Ah. Rand cursed himself for forgetting that the Asha’man was new to this. He arched his back, spread his knees a bit further apart, and wiggled, giving Narishma a little show. His cock bounced between his legs, red and swollen like an overripe fruit -- Rand would have laughed if the tears of frustration weren’t choking his throat.

“I know. Just fuck me, Jahar.”

The Asha’man swallowed audibly. Something slick and hot kissed Rand’s puckered hole -- the tip Narishma’s beautiful cock, oil-slicked and ready. Ever so slowly, it glided inside, meeting little resistance; the long prep paid off. Narishma gripped his hips, then pushed deeper. And deeper. Woah. Rand craned his neck to get a good look, but all he could see was Narishma’s face going slack with ecstasy; eyes closed, eyebrows raised slightly, mouth hanging open.

Rand felt a pleasant tingle when Narishma brushed his prostate, but the sensation was dull, as if his cock was slightly off the mark. Rotating his hips this way and that, Rand tried to guide Narishma’s cock, clenching here and there. The Asha’man let him. He was still breathing heavily, balls deep inside Rand -- unmoving, overwhelmed with pleasure. Rand smirked through the tears. It felt good, to be able to reduce the proud channeler to such a mess.

Then Rand managed to shift the cock inside of him so that it pressed right against the sweet spot, and the corners of his vision went dark. His stifled moan made Narishma chuckle. The Asha’man started moving; slowly, at first, but faster and faster with every second, until Rand was forced to grip the bedding and hang on for dear life.

The pleasure grew exponentially, as Narishma kept brutally hitting his prostate, over and over again. Each stroke felt like a miniature lightning strike, traveling directly from somewhere deep inside Rand, the pleasure spreading along his entire body. He felt the orgasm built, and it built hard. Saidin only amplified the feeling in the best way possible -- Rand never felt more alive than in that moment. Naked and humiliated, on his hands and knees before the fully clothed Asha’man, he had no choice but to lift his ass up and take everything Narishma was giving him.

“Faster,” he growled into the silk bedding sheet, and had to bite it to muffle his whine when Narishma sped up. The thrusts grew shallower, somehow sharper, more intense -- every single one hitting his prostate with an uncanny accuracy. The wrap of Air disappeared around his cock, and Rand barely noticed it. The pressure grew exponentially, erasing all coherent thought. If someone asked Rand his name, he wouldn’t be able to answer; there was simply too much for his brain to handle. He was a well of liquid flame, hot as the sun, rolling and expanding ever outward. He was a mountain, shaking and groaning, straining to contain the terrible pressure inside. The flame burst, the mountain shattered.

“Aaaaaaahh!”

***

On the other side of the world, Egwene stood on the balcony of the Amyrlin chambers, watching the Dragonmount spew an enormous fountain of magma hundreds of feet into the air.

***

Oh yeah, moaned Lews Therin.

Rand lowered his head, shoulders shaking. From the upside-down view, he could see his cock spilling load, after load, after load -- he had never come this hard in his life. Waves of pleasure continued to wash over his entire body, as if every inch of him suddenly gained the ability to orgasm. He sighed, content to ride the lightning for a while longer. He released saidin with a shudder.

He didn’t know how long he stayed that way. Rand first became aware of Narishma’s hands wrapped around his midsection; the Asha’man draped himself over Rand, still thrusting shallowly. Rand felt his body get rocked with each tiny little thrust. The warmth spreading deep inside of him signified that Narishma also reached his completion.

“Good?” Narishma kissed his shoulder.

Rand felt his lips twist in a satisfied smile.
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The Black Tower