Midnight Pearl Brotherhood: Newblood Initiate

Blurb

The ancient myths of the Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl tell of an island formed from the depths of the ocean, in the midst of a sea of mystical, sapphire beauty. It is an island paradise built on love and devotion to a common belief, a society made up entirely of handsome and desirable men. And Alonzo Smith is on a journey to discover his place among them.

Here begins the path to Alonzo’s destiny. He enters this world as a newblood, a young man who will give his all in service to someone special. But just as Goldilocks sought the right bowl, the right chair, the perfect bed, so Alonzo is in search of the right master. And perhaps the right collar to embrace his neck.

Thus, upon arrival on the island, Alonzo’s sensual journey begins with service to Squire, and his introduction to the hierarchies, laws and boundaries of the Mannos Society of Men...

Excerpt

He eagerly lifted the goblet to his lips and gulped down the sweet yet tangy contents. It tasted of coconut and banana, the bite of spirits, the smoothness of honey. Alonzo was more than ready to shoulder the responsibilities associated with rising from newblood to initiate. As he drained the goblet, his gaze encountered the dais at the far side of the clearing and his blood raced at the vision of golden gods, served by their attendants dressed in rich robes. One day he planned to be in that position—attendant to an Ancient. Around the fires at night, the squires had regaled the newbloods of the stories of the ancients who inhabited this island. Their stories had fueled many of Alonzo’s wet dreams during his exhausted sleep. And now to actually see them in all their golden glory. To serve them was a dream many initiates trained in hopes of achieving. To be chosen to serve an ancient was the highest service a submissive receiver could wish for in this society.

The Ancients. The regal five, holding the honored First Level positions on the island as the Island Lords, naked except for their adornment of gold glittering powder from head to foot, wearing hammered gold and copper necklaces and headpieces, giving them the appearance of statues of the primitive gods sculpted in precious metal, reanimated to partake in this earthy celebration. They were far, far above the station of any of the other inhabitants of the island. They were here to preside over the ceremony, to serve as reminders of the root of their civilization, but not necessarily to partake of the orgy itself, serving as figureheads to the momentousness of the occasion.

Alonzo turned away as six Spiritmasters, wearing costumes of yellow and blue feathers and multi-colored glass and clay beads, their faces decorated with strange symbols known only to them, danced around the fire, behind the newbloods seated there. They circled and swayed, jumped high into the air, shook their hands, and shouted at the top of their lungs. The drumbeats became more pronounced, drilling through to his heart. The effects of the wine magnified every sensation. Alonzo felt his lust building, his body opening, more than ready to be claimed by one of these masterful men. This would be his first step to becoming an accepted receiver—used and pleasured, giving pleasure and service to those in authority.

It was with difficulty that he maintained his focus on the ceremony as his blood flamed hotter and hotter. By all the heavens, and the hells too, he needed to be taken. The pounding crescendoed to an eardrum-shattering decibel and then abruptly stopped. The silence was utter and absolute, a breathtaking contradiction. He turned to look up at the Ancients, as the one at the center rose—appearing a veritable giant among men from Alonzo’s position on the ground. Arms crossed over his massive chest, he slowly surveyed the gathering. His gaze turned to the head Spiritmaster and he nodded, signaling for the next phase of the ceremony to begin.

The Drummasters hammered once again, this time quick, staccato beats. Firelight flickered, casting shadows that seemed to loom long and undulating across those gathered. Alonzo looked to the Drummasters, to their thick meaty arms as they drove down again and again, their gorgeous bodies slick with sweat. They weren’t just drummers, but hunters as well. Each one personally crafted the drum upon which he beat, hunted the animal and tanned the skin. He fantasized about being taken by one of them, about being dropped to the ground, opened and penetrated, with one of them pounding into him with the same force used on their drums. It was almost too much for Alonzo.

Alonzo jumped as he felt a hand settle on his shoulder.