John Alden hadn't had a decent night's sleep in years. He couldn't remember the last time he slept through the night and awoke rested. His mind was full of the events of the past few weeks since his return to Salem. So many changes, and the Puritans had become more troublesome and paranoid than ever before. It was bad enough that they dominated the politics of the town, meting out harsh punishment for "crimes" that John didn't consider crimes at all. And now, the witch hysteria that swept Europe had made its way across the Atlantic and held Salem in its grip. Life in the New World was fearful and difficult enough, and it seemed to John that the Puritans were intent on establishing hell on earth themselves, without the aid of any witches whatsoever.
John took a drink straight from the bottle he held in his hand. His drinking had become more frequent, and he began to rely on it more and more just to get even a few hours of rest. Little else worked to quieten his mind. Tonight his head felt like he was swept up in a whirlwind, unable to focus on anything more than his contempt for what the town that his father had helped establish had become. To make matters worse, he had to see Mary every day – the woman who'd won his heart so many years ago. Seeing her was torment enough, knowing that she belonged to another man. What made it worse, however, was that she was married to one of the most evil and hateful men he had ever known, George Sibley.
George was notorious for his cruelty in the name of his faith. On his last day before leaving Salem, he had witnessed George in his full glory as he pressed the hot brand against the forehead of a young man named Isaac Walton, trapped in the stocks, forever marking him as "Isaac the Fornicator," as if he had no surname. John shuddered at the memory of Isaac's screams. Watching that terrible event had convinced him that leaving Salem and going to fight in the war was the best decision he could make.
In fact, that memory was all the more painful for the fact that Isaac had become one of the few people in Salem that John trusted, let alone liked. Isaac had had a hard life after George Sibley marked him. He was given the most awful, terrible and filthy jobs that the town needed done. He was the one who had to carry the unwanted dead to their everlasting home in a ditch in the woods. John felt that Isaac deserved a lot better than the life that the Puritans forced on him, and was probably the only person in Isaac's entire life who ever stood up for him. John had come to rely on Isaac's help, and whenever possible he showed Isaac as much generosity and kindness as he could.
The fire crackled as John sat staring off into nothingness. The alcohol had finally made him drowsy, so he went upstairs and collapsed onto the bed. His mind was still reeling, making him feel dizzy. It seemed like the whole room was spinning. Fantastic images appeared in John's mind's eye, bouncing between the violence of men like Increase Mather and George Sibley to the warm comfort of Mary Sibley's bosom. When he focused on Mary, the tempest in his mind eased. He began to picture her as she was so long ago, still innocent and untainted by the corruption of George Sibley. He remembered the feel of her skin against his, the softness of her body, the floral smell of her. He was caught up in the delight of that memory which had sustained him while he was a prisoner of war, and during his long journey back to Salem.
John's mind was then full of nothing but Mary. His heartbeat increased as he imagined holding her again, making love to her the way that only he could. He felt as if he could truly reach out and touch her. The dream he entered was vivid and bright. It seemed so real! And then he heard Mary's voice in his ear.
"Where is it, John?" Where is what? What could she be talking about? She bent down and kissed him passionately. "Where is it, John? Where is it?" she asked over and over again.
John struggled to speak, to answer her, to tell her he had no idea what she meant, but his mouth refused to work and the words would not come out. He looked up at Mary, pleadingly, wanting nothing more than to wrap himself around her and merge their bodies together. He noticed that Mary looked up and around where they lay, and then in a moment she was gone. John lay there, gasping for breath, still wondering what Mary wanted and why she had disappeared so quickly. He stood up, staggering for balance, and called out her name. There was no reply. The room was empty. He opened his eyes and realized he was dreaming. Frustrated, John closed his eyes and tried to return to sleep.
John tried again to quiet his mind, to find a center of focus and to drift back off to sleep. Yet, he heard what sounded like distant voices, giggling and squealing. He sat up in bed and looked out of the window.
"What the….?" said John, as he saw women dancing around the gallows in the center of town, naked and bare as the day they were born. John saw that the women were calling to him, trying to convince him to come down and join in their dance, to fall into their arms and satiate his most lustful desires. John was a strong man, but even he couldn't resist the siren call of so many beautiful women. He pulled on his pants, boots and his shirt and made his way downstairs and out the door.
John could still hear the women calling him, drawing him closer and closer to them. As he walked he began to notice that almost every woman in Salem was walking around naked in broad daylight. John shook his head violently, trying to clear it of whatever dream was holding him, yet he continued walking towards the town center. The sultry looks of these women – could no one else see them but him? – accentuated his already aroused state, and it seemed that wherever he looked there was bare flesh enticing him. John was about to run wild into the thick of them, venting pent up frustration from mooning over Mary since he returned, when he felt a hand on his arm grip him firmly.
"John? Are you all right?" asked Isaac.
John turned and looked at him strangely.
"John? Are you ill?" asked Isaac. John struggled to speak, stammering and stuttering, trying to explain to Isaac what was happening, but he couldn't form the words and his tongue felt thick. Isaac knew that something was wrong with John, and his instincts told him that he needed to get John out of public view as soon as possible.
As he tried to lead John back to his house, Isaac noticed the way that John was looking at the women they passed by. Isaac looked down and noticed that John was sporting a prodigious erection – frankly, a truly impressive one in Isaac's opinion, and feared for John's safety. Isaac knew what the Puritans would do to John if they saw him in this state, or witnessed him leering at women.
"Come on, John. We have to get you home before anyone sees you like this," said Isaac. John didn't seem to hear him as he continued to repeat and plead with John to allow him to guide him. Isaac took him firmly by the hand and led him towards the Alden home.
Isaac felt relief as he opened the door to the Alden house and pushed John inside. He quickly shut the door and began closing windows in the main room. He didn't want anyone to see John in this state, and he knew that he had to protect this man – one of his few allies in the world – from the predations of the Puritan leaders who already held hate for John Alden in their hearts. Isaac looked around the room and saw the bottle sitting on the table in front of the fireplace.
"Here, John, take a drink and calm yourself," said Isaac. While John nursed the whiskey Isaac gave him, Isaac busied himself with straightening up the room. He loaded the fireplace with wood and got the room warmed up again.
"How are you feeling now, John?" asked Isaac.
John shook his head.
"I don't know, Isaac. Something is wrong, but I don't know what it is. I can't clear my head," said John. Isaac looked at his friend, a man he admired more than any other, and was perplexed at what was troubling him.
"John, are you awake right now?" asked Isaac.
"I don't know, Isaac," said John. "It feels like I am dreaming. But everywhere I look I see naked women! I hope that I am dreaming, because if this is not a dream, I must be insane."
"You're not insane, John. You just had a rough night. You are one of the sanest men I have ever known, and you are certainly the sanest man in Salem right now," said Isaac.
John attempted a smile, but his face was creased with confusion and it looked more like a grimace. "Isaac, would you help me upstairs and back into bed?" said John. "I need to try and sleep this off."
Isaac walked over to where John was sitting and pulled him up to his feet. They stood, unsteadily, for a few moments, and then Isaac led John by the hand upstairs and to the bedroom. John fell back across the bed, as if exhausted, and Isaac kneeled down beside the bed to help John off with his boots and clothes. Isaac couldn't help but notice John's smooth skin as he undressed his friend. Isaac shuddered at the sight of the scars on John's back. He knew what it felt like to carry those, as he had a full measure of them on his back from the whipping he received while in the stocks. Isaac traced the outline of one of the larger scars that stretched from one side of John's back to the other. He wondered how John came by them, but considering what he knew of John's time away from Salem, he knew that the truth would actually be worse than anything he could imagine. John had clearly suffered much, physically and mentally, and perhaps that contributed to his current state of mind.
After he removed John's shirt, Isaac laid John back onto the bed and began working on his boots. John's boots were well-worn, a tribute to the man's past, and smelled of the forest and man and musk. Isaac was surprised at how much he liked the smell of John, the smell of his body… his clothes… his boots. It was a natural scent, pure and unpolluted. Isaac felt his heartbeat increase from the strong smell of John's body in the room. After the boots were off, Isaac then had to remove John's leather pants. Isaac's hand trembled as he reached towards John's torso. How long had it been since Isaac had so much as touched another human being? No one in Salem would ever so much as shake his hand. Isaac began to unbutton the trousers and he lifted John's hips slightly so that he could slide them off him. The massive erection that John had earlier was still there. Isaac looked at John's cock, noticing the dewdrop hanging on to the end of John's foreskin. Isaac wanted so badly to lap that dewdrop with his tongue, but resisted the urge because he didn't want to upset his friend, and didn't want to be seen as taking any sort of advantage of John. Still, the sight of John's naked body… his muscles glistening with sweat as he roiled on the bed… his long brown hair falling onto the pillow underneath his head… his strong, hairy legs… his beautiful face… It was almost too much for Isaac to bear. Isaac began to notice his own erection growing between his thighs.
John began mumbling in his stupor. Isaac couldn't make out clearly what John was saying, but it sounded like he was calling out for Mary. Isaac knew of the love that John had for her. He also knew that George Sibley would kill John Alden with his own hands if he had any inkling of what John still carried in his heart for his wife.
"John, settle down," said Isaac, softly. He placed his hand on John's chest. Isaac's touch seemed to soothe John a bit, and his breathing became more regular.
"Isaac…," said John. "Isaac, are you here? I can't see you."
Isaac replied, "I am here, John. I won't go anywhere. I am here to take care of you." Isaac's hand swept across John's chest, up his neck and caressed the side of his face. Isaac gazed at John's face, his eyelids tightly closed with the effort John was making to hold on to his sanity.
"Isaac, I feel like I am on fire. Please help me," said John. Isaac wasn't sure what to do, so he began to stroke John's cheek and spoke softly to him.
"John, you are so beautiful. You are such a good man. You are probably the only real friend I have ever had. I can't bear to see you like this, in such torment," said Isaac. Tears came to his eyes and he leaned down and kissed John on the forehead. Surprisingly, this action seemed to calm John even further. Isaac began to pull back his hand from John's face and felt John's hand on his.
"Stop, Isaac. Don't leave me," said John.
Isaac wasn't sure what to do next. He was torn between his feelings of friendship and loyalty to John Alden, and the strong sexual urges he felt for him. Isaac tried to will his body to come back under his control, but with no success. Isaac's cock remained firm and hard, and he wanted nothing more than to be with John, even if it were only for a while, to feel real love and human contact, to please the man who had done more for him than anyone had ever done.
"John?" said Isaac. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes," replied John. "I need your help, Isaac. I need you."
Isaac's mind was spinning. The intoxicating scent of John's body, the beauty of the man, the long and lonely years Isaac had spent alone forced his hand.
"I am here, John. I am here to take care of you, to do anything that you need," said Isaac.
John's hand tightened around Isaac's. "I need you, Isaac. I need you to be with me," said John.
Isaac pulled his hand away, despite John's strength. "What do you mean, John? I will do anything for you, just tell me what it is," said Isaac.
John opened his eyes and looked directly at Isaac.
"Take off your damn clothes, Isaac, and get into this damn bed with me."
Isaac's eyes opened widely. He couldn't believe what he heard John say. John didn't seem like the sort of man who enjoyed the carnal company of other men, but he had been away from civilization for a long time, and who knew what he had done in his past? Despite his fear, despite his own internalized hatred, Isaac took off his shirt, pants and boots, and laid down next to John.
John knew that he had been bewitched. There was no other explanation. He returned to Salem not believing that witches existed and were just a figment of the imagination of crazy Puritan leaders. It was only after Isaac had taken him to that dark place in the woods and he witnessed for himself the horror of it all that he came to accept that witches were indeed real, and moreover that they were strong in Salem. John couldn't speculate on who, exactly, had spelled him, because he had no idea who the witches were. He just knew that black magic had a hold on him, and that there was no other solution than to satisfy the lust that that magic had fixed upon him.
"Isaac, I want to tell you something," said John. "I am in dire need of some relief. You can see what I am talking about. My cock is so hard that it hurts, Isaac. I am in pain, inside and out. I need your help, because only another man would be able to survive the process to rid me of this spell. No woman could ever hold up to it, they just aren't strong enough. I know what I am asking you to do is unusual, and that the Puritans would hang us both for just being naked together, but I don't know who else I could trust to help me, and to keep it secret. Isaac, there is powerful magic in relations between two men. I learned that during my time as a captive of the Indians."
Isaac looked at John, somewhat relieved to know that John had figured out what was happening, but despite his own feelings of lust, Isaac feared what might come after. Would his relationship with John become stronger? Or would this tryst push them apart? How would John feel about him after it was over and his lust was gone? Isaac pushed these thoughts away from his mind.
"John, I will help you in any way that I can. The faith and trust you put in me is amazing. No one has ever treated me the way that you do," said Isaac.
Isaac then reached out and caressed the side of John's face. John looked back at him and took hold of Isaac's hand, leading him directly to his crotch.
"Help me, Isaac," said John. Isaac resolved to do his best, and to give to John whatever he needed, however he needed and wanted it.
Isaac wrapped his fingers around the girth of John's cock. He bent down and ran his tongue across the tip, finally getting a taste of that dewdrop, of John's essence. Using his tongue, he pulled back John's foreskin and sucked softly on the glans. John sighed heavily as Isaac's lips met his rigid cock. Finally, some relief! John opened his eyes and looked down at Isaac's head as he slowly bobbed and circled on his cock.
"That's it, Isaac," said John. "Take it deeper, give me more." Isaac relaxed his throat and in one motion swallowed John's cock to the base, his nose resting in John's pubic hair. John almost shot out of the bed from the sensation. "Damn, Isaac, you have a beautiful mouth," said John.
Isaac lifted his head and looked back at John.
"Yeah? Let me show you what else I can do with it," said Isaac. Replacing his mouth with his hand on John's cock, Isaac slid his lips across John's tight stomach and up to his left nipple. Isaac began to lick and suck at the nipple, and he could tell John liked it because his cock swelled each time Isaac bit down on it. Isaac moved to the right nipple and repeated the process, slowly stroking John's cock up and down, the foreskin slipping over the glans. John's body tingled at the sensations, and he began to relax and really enjoy himself.
John pulled Isaac's face up to his and kissed him on his lips. Brief kisses at first, but they became deeper and more lingering as the two men fell into a rhythm, their bodies wrapping around one another. Isaac could not believe what was happening. It had been so long, longer than he could recall, since he was touched by anyone, let alone kissed as passionately as John kissed him. John swept his hands across Isaac's hairy chest, tweaking each nipple in turn, as he continued to explore Isaac's mouth with his tongue.
John was now able to focus his mind on Isaac, to the exclusion of all else. Just being there with him, being with a man that he trusted, made it easier for John to lower his defenses and accept the gift that Isaac had for him. His lips pressed firmly against Isaac's, John moved his body to roll on top of Isaac. He stared deeply into Isaac's eyes and a tear formed at the corner of his right eye. The teardrop fell across John's cheek, and Isaac lifted his hand to wipe it away.
"No more tears, John. Let it all go. Let me fill the void you feel, let me give you the relief and healing you need."
John smiled at his friend, his new lover.
"That was a tear of relief, Isaac. Already the magic is working. I can think more clearly now. I know what I need, and I know you can give it to me."
Isaac smiled back at him and reached up to kiss John, softly at first but growing in intensity with each passing moment. As John showered Isaac's neck with kisses, Isaac moaned with pleasure. He ran his hands across John's back, encircling his torso with his arms, pulling John ever closer to him. Their bodies pressed close together, the warmth of their bodies comforting each of them. John reached underneath and between them and took a firm hold of Isaac's cock. Isaac almost jumped out of his skin, but John kept a firm grip and began to stroke his cock up and down. Isaac's own foreskin slid easily over his glans, as the natural lubricant his cock produced drooled from it. John then moved down from Isaac's neck and began kissing his heaving chest. John found Isaac's left nipple and gave it a playful nip. Isaac gasped and his cock twitched. John smiled, knowing that Isaac was pleased by his actions. He continued down Isaac's torso until Isaac's cock was right in his face. John took the glans into his mouth and traced the ridge of it with his tongue. He lowered his head further, taking all of Isaac's length into his throat and slid his tongue around its girth. John could feel Isaac's scrotum tighten as he neared orgasm, but John was not ready for things to end. He pulled his mouth away, returned to Isaac's head and kissed him deeply again.
Isaac shifted his body to allow John easier access to his backside. John took his right index finger, slid it into his mouth and lubricated it with his saliva. He then reached down and pressed the end of his finger against Isaac's tight sphincter. With slow but steady pressure, John worked his finger into Isaac's ass. Isaac moaned with pain and pleasure as John pulled his finger almost all the way out only to plunge it back in again, deeper each time. As Isaac loosened up, John worked in another finger, and then another. Isaac clinched down on them, pressing them into his prostate and his eyes rolled back into his head.
"I am ready, John. I want you inside me. Please, John….."
John smiled again, eager to push his massive cock deep into Isaac's body, to feel the warmth of his insides, to wrap his manhood in the velvety softness of Isaac's ass.
"Are you sure, Isaac? If this is your first time, it will hurt for a while."
Isaac looked John dead in the eye.
"I want you, John. I need you inside me. Use me as you will. I am not familiar with the magic you described, but I definitely want to experience it for myself."
John said, "Isaac, this experience is as much about meeting your needs as it is my own. I want to make love to you, but I don't want to hurt you."
"You could never hurt me, John. Even pain from you is pleasure to me. I am ready, John. Take me now," said Isaac.
Isaac wrapped his legs around John's torso, exposing his eager ass. John placed the tip of his cock at the opening to Isaac's ass and began to press slowly against it. Isaac spread his legs further apart, giving John as much access as he could, and pressed down on John as John pressed into him. Isaac groaned at the sensation, begging John for more, for him to push deeper into him. John obliged and slowly worked his cock deep into Isaac. Finally, when he was balls-deep and had no more length to give him, John pulled slowly back until the tip of his cock was all that remained inside of Isaac. He pushed in again, deep as he could, and pulled back. John repeated this over and over again, and Isaac felt his legs turn to jelly.
John shifted from laying atop Isaac to lying beside him. Isaac turned his back to John and spread his legs again. John pushed into his from behind and began a rocking rhythm. Each stroke felt to Isaac like electricity was flowing from Johns cock directly into his spine. Both mean were gasping for breath with their efforts, working together as one being. Their lovemaking went on for hours, until John could no longer restrain himself and he ejaculated deep inside of Isaac. Isaac could feel each spurt of cum from John splashing against his insides. In that moment, he felt that he belonged solely to John, that he was John's property. More than anything, Isaac wanted John's pleasure even more than he wanted his own.
As John lay gasping, his arms and legs still wrapped around Isaac, he reached around and grasped Isaac's cock again. Still inside of Isaac, he stroked up and down until he knew that Isaac was near orgasm. He thrust his still-erect cock deep inside of Isaac one last time, and Isaac's cock exploded. With each pulse of the orgasm, Isaac clenched down harder on John's cock. Finally, when he was spent, he could do nothing more than lay there in John's arms, and he was so happy to be right there where he was. He knew that at some point this would end and he would return to his miserable life. He wanted this to last as long as he could, and as he heard John's breathing slow and felt John fall into a deep sleep he resolved to remain where he was as long as John would allow him.
John and Isaac laid in the bed together for hours. When the first rays of sunlight appeared in the morning, Isaac knew that his time was almost up. John stirred slowly and began to pull away from Isaac.
"Wait, John," said Isaac. Before we get up, I need one last thing. He turned to face John and kissed him sweetly and deeply. "Thank you, John. I never knew such pleasure, such comfort. I do love you, John. You will always remain special to me, even if I never get the chance to be in your arms again."
"Isaac, you are now and will always be my friend. We are bonded now, and no other man will ever be as close to me as you have been tonight. I am grateful to you for helping me in my hour of need. In turn, I will do everything I can to help you better your lot in life and to leave Salem, and the shame the fucking Puritans forced on you, behind forever," said John.
Outside, a rooster began crowing, announcing the beginning of a new day. Isaac sat up on the side of the bed, his ass still tender and sore from the evening's events, but still happier than he had ever been in his life. He slipped on his clothes and went downstairs to stoke the fire and to make some breakfast for John. The two men sat in front of the fireplace in silence, enjoying the last few moments of their intimacy before they returned to the real world, the harsh world that was Salem.
The difference now was that the spell that had been cast on John was broken. Isaac and John were victorious against the bewitchment. They knew that together they were stronger than any black magic. In fact, their own magic was enough to destroy the magic of witches forever.
Both men were now ready for any challenge that the Puritans or the witches may present to them. Both men were stronger for the experience. Both men knew that they had no choice to fight until the battle was won.
As Isaac left John's house and returned to his own hovel, tears began to fall from his eyes. The memory of the time he spent in John's arms would sustain him on the many cold and lonely nights to come. At the very least, Isaac now knew what it felt like to be loved and wanted. And that, for Isaac, was a treasure greater than any amount of gold. He was devoted to John and vowed to support him in any way possible, even if it meant that John was reunited with Mary. But even then, Isaac knew that Mary would never be able to fulfill John's needs as well as he did.
And with that, Isaac smiled – a real smile, not the fake ones he usually showed to the hateful Puritans. It was the first time he had genuinely felt happy since that awful day in the stocks. John, unbeknownst to him, was Isaac's salvation. Because of John, Isaac had a reason to live. And for that, Isaac would be eternally grateful.
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