I know it is forbidden of me as a sanctified scribe of the church, but through my secret allegiances to the gods and spirits of the old order, I compose this chronicle of how the remarkable Floin came to be naked and bent over, to be skewered by the lingum of another man for the first time in the presence of many of the high Druid priests and priestesses of Britain in the annual Samhain harvest festival of the Celtic New Year. This was only a great transitional moment in a life blessed to revel
It was unusually warm late that summer. Floin had his haughty and vaguely disrespectful introductions all planned ahead. He thought the Druids a formal and stiff lot. He traveled by mule to the west country where the academy was located, not far from Salisbury plain, Stonehenge, and others of the mystical stone circles.
He stood before the registering priestess at her desk with his satchel of belongings attired in his riding sandals and nothing else. He smirked as he introduced hi
It was one of those damp cold dreary evenings that Britons know to be so frequent in their early winter, when Floin was escorted from training camp common barracks to the Spartan but warm hut of the training commander. He had been complimented well for so quickly taking to the soldierly arts. He hoped that this would be the night that he would be paired off with a brusque experienced soldier to be mated with until one or the other was killed in battle.
He was fascinated with the
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