Second-time-around

Looking at these poles I see that they are thicker and more tapered than the previous poles, I guess it must be half as wide again. Straddling the pole it takes a lot more effort to accommodate the poles and from the sounds behind me the others are having the same problem. Seeing our struggles five warriors climb up onto the tree trunk and placing their hands on our shoulders push down as hard as they can. Our anal rings resistance give way and with a collective groan we slide down into our seats, I am feeling rather sore but have little time to worry about it as our manacles are fastened once more into place. Belenos stands up and strolls over to us and congratulates us for having passed all of the courage tests so far but warns us that more tests are to follow which he will be monitoring closely with great interest. I feel a sense of pride developing despite my very unusual circumstances and smile in response. I pluck up the courage and ask if I may speak, he says that I may so I ask what is to be our next test? And what is the purpose of the seats that we are sitting on? All in good time, you will shortly find out. He says smiling in response. He returns to where he was sitting and then claps his hands again loudly. On the signal the warriors make loud whooping noises and start dancing and running round the tree trunk, each time they ran past the priests they scoop up wads of the fat and grease up their ever hardening cocks. When every warrior is greased up Belenos claps his hands again and it becomes a game of tag crossed with rugby tackling. It seems the object of the game is to catch another warrior, wrestle him to the ground and then fuck him senseless until the captor shoots his virile jism deep into the recipient’s rectum. The captor once spent retires from the chase and joins the applauding spectators. This game lasts for an hour until just one warrior is left lying on the ground totally exhausted and judging by the state of his anus very stretched and full of jism. Belenos calls out to the warrior who nods ruefully and staggers over to collapse at Belenos’s feet. We watch with interest to see what will happen next. Once he recovers his breath he is told to stand up, turn round with his back to Belenos, bend over and put his hands behind his knees and spread his legs wide. Belenos then rises to his feet and casually starts to finger the warrior’s anus. I am so surprised by what follows that my mouth falls open in astonishment, I have never seen anything like it and I didn’t know it was physically possible. With little reaction from the poor guy Belenos first inserts one finger, then two, then three, before a fourth disappears with great ease. I can just make out the thumb being tucked in behind the fingers before with a slight push and virtually no resistance the whole hand disappears inside. A low moan issues from his lips and I spot his hands frantically wanking his cock while Belenos slowly pulls his fist out of his anus and then reinserting it a little more forcefully than before. The moaning gets louder and louder and then with a cry the warrior shoots a long jet of jism which shines in the torchlight before it hits the ground. He collapses onto all fours, the impaling fist leaves his sloppy hole with a loud wet squelch much to the amusement of his watching comrades. I can’t believe what I have just witnessed, yet judging by the reactions of the Celts this is nothing unusual and within a minute events carry on as if it never happened. Belenos indicates to Cos that they’re ready for the next stage. Nodding Cos calls Piran and Wingallock over and the three of them walk over to us, release our manacles, instruct us to climb down and once more to bend over holding onto the tree trunk. Having done this once already we need no further guidance and assume the position required. Looking over my shoulder, I watch Cos explore my crack with his fingers before starting to insert his fingers. Having had the pole up my hole for over an hour it seems incapable of closing properly and like the poor warrior just now Cos inserts three fingers easily but he was unable to insert a fourth. He doesn’t seem too concerned about this as he says well done to me before moving onto my comrades. By the time Cos is finished with us the warriors have crowded round again and we are moved onto the final set of seats. Close up I can see their poles are even thicker than the poles we have just left behind, I would think they are about triple the size of the original poles and I am concerned about whether I will be able to accommodate such a thick pole. However we aren’t going to be given the option to refuse and as we climb up and place our anuses over the poles Cos advise us to relax as much as possible and to even welcome the intrusion as it will make it easier and less painful. Belenos has walked over unnoticed and agrees with Cos, he says they will be providing a distraction to help us relax and swallow the poles completely. He remains there standing watching our efforts as the first couple of inches of the poles slide into our rectums before stopping as resistance is met. Once again our manacles are attached to the metal hoops preventing us from escaping the impalement, try as I might I simply cannot relax and my sinking down the pole stops. However Belenos is good as his word and returning to his spot he claps his hands as Cos and the priests retrieve the pots of fat. The warriors whoop their war cry once more and start their dancing and running round the tree trunk. This time as they grab a handful of fat from the priests pots they grease up their hands rather than their cocks. Again when every warrior has greased his hands Belenos double claps his hands and the chase game starts once more. This time when a catch is made the captive bends over at the waist, spreads his cheeks with his hands, presenting his anus to his captor who wastes no time in pushing his fist deep inside the waiting hole. The two warriors remain joined that way while slowly walking round the tree trunk until another warrior catches up with them and inserts his fist into the warrior at the rear. I am so taken with the spectacle taking place I completely forget about the pole impaling me and before I know it I am sitting firmly down on the seat with the pole fully inserted! I look down in surprise at this and also at my cock which is erect and throbbing for release, however I have no hands to bring it relief so I remain frustrated. Eventually the warriors form one unending chain of impaled holes, at which point they stop walking and start to fist fuck the hole in front. The sight is incredible and the squelching sounds totally overpowering, so much so that my cock explodes untouched sending jets of jism along the trunk in front of me. One by one the warriors orgasm and shoot their jism to the ground before slowly disengaging from each other and wiping their hands on the grass. Then with a great deal of laughing and jostling they give each other group hugs before crowding round us. Belenos joins them and praises them for their courage and teamwork, they cheer in response, even more so when they’re informed that we’re to be released and the next test is to commence. I think I know what is coming! Piran and Wingallock release our manacles which are also removed from our wrists and ankles then indicate we are to climb down and join the warriors. Rather stiff I climb off slowly, the pole exits my hole with a wet fart which is heard by the others making them laugh. As I wait for the others to climb down I study the warriors more closely. To a man they are extremely fit, muscular and have a deep tan all over their bodies indicating to me that being naked is the normal state for them. They all have intricate woad tattoos covering most of their bodies and have a natural grace about them. I also notice how affectionate they are with each other despite their very evident machismo, I guess the games I have just witnessed prevents pride and barriers developing and causing problems within the group. It is hard to act better than someone else when you have had their hand up your backside. I am brought out of my reverie by two pairs of hands grabbing me and turning me to face the tree trunk, I don’t offer any resistance when I am bent over and feel the cheeks of my arse being pulled apart. I can tell my hole is loose from the way the cool night air flows in through my ring. I hear approving noises behind me so I guess this is the effect they are seeking and then the subtle noise of a fist being greased up. I can feel fingers exploring my ring pulling its lips further apart before they are carefully inserted. Concentrating I think I can feel four being pushed inside but then as I begin to doubt my counting I feel my ring, with some resistance, stretch further. There is a little bit of discomfort but then it is over and I feel incredibly full. Confused by this sensation I look over my shoulder to be greeted by the vision of a hand buried up to the wrist in my arse. The hand belongs to Belenos, of all people and he has a triumphant look on his face. He looks up at me briefly before returning his attention to his fist which he is slowly pulling out before moving onto Felix’s hole waiting next to me. I think it’s all over but I am mistaken for my hole is quickly filled again with the fist of a waiting warrior, who pumps my hole a couple of times before moving on only to be replaced by the next warrior waiting patiently behind him. After about ten fists being inserted I begin to lose count and become absorbed in the pleasure that the warriors fists are providing. Looking up I see Cos standing the other side of the tree trunk watching the five of us and the long queue of warriors waiting to plunge their fists into our increasingly sloppy holes. Catching his gaze I ask him what is the purpose of this latest activity, smiling he says that we are being honoured and accepted by the men for we have passed every test put before us. Tomorrow we will face the final round of tests before full acceptance into the tribe. This gives me something to think about! Finally the last fist has made its way deep inside me, I can barely feel it entering or exiting, my ring has given up the ghost for the time being. The priests lead us staggering back to the hut where we slept last night; again there is a large pot of stew and a pile of bread chunks. To our joy we find a pile of blankets and furs, at least we will be able to keep warm and rest our aching butts.”

The vision fades before my eyes and reality floods back in. My mouth is dry and I feel mentally exhausted from recounting my memories. Michael gently hands me a glass of water giving me a smile filled with concern, I smile in response and assure him that although I am tired I am okay, so there is no need for him to worry about me. Glancing over to Elliott I see that he is more animated and his trousers are sporting a tent pole, clearly he has been enjoying my tale.

Abruptly he stands up; with a thoughtful look on his face and a discreet rearrangement of his trousers he paces the room before turning to me.

“I don’t want to sound like I’m doubting you, but what you have said is true isn’t it?

Not totally surprised I reply

“As far as I am concerned everything I have said is an accurate recount of what I have seen and experienced. As I have said before it is like watching a movie in which you have no control of its course of action, yet it feels like you have been an actor within the film so you know it from the inside as well as being a spectator.”

“Okay love. I know I know. It’s just being an observer it’s a lot to take in and I’m trying not to get swept up in the story telling, I would like to remain objective as much as possible.”

I accept what he is trying to say so I suggest that we retire to the kitchen for a change of scenery and hopefully subject. Michael and Elliott sit down at the kitchen table quietly chatting, unfortunately I am unable to make out what they’re saying as I’m over the other side of the room and the kettle is rumbling in my ear. By the time I join them at the table they are clearly in agreement and smile in unison at me.

“Okay guys, what have you two cooked up?”

“I was simply suggesting to Elliott that between tomorrow and our next session he might like to do undertake some independent research using the information you have provided so far from tonight and last week. That way he can satisfy his need to remain analytical and that he is making a contribution to this journey you two are on.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head Michael” Elliott added nodding his head slowly “I want to take an active but supporting role here and if I can find some concrete evidence to back up what you have been saying then that can only be a good thing for all of us.”

In the face of their calm logic I had no choice but to agree and if I was being honest it would be real boost to have corroborative evidence to know that my visions were real memories and not a result of an overactive imagination.

Then while I sit sipping my coffee a revelation hits me like a bolt of lightning! “I knew it!” I exclaim, breaking the other two’s trains of thought. “I have just realised who Cos reminds me of, it’s you Michael. Okay you’re not identical because you’re different ages and different colouring but your expressions and personalities are the same. It’s the same feeling as when I look at Elliott and then remember Belenos.”

Michael smiles slowly and after a short pause simply says “I have been told by a reliable medium that I was a high ranking priest in a former life but this not something I have explored in any depth. I think we should wait and see what Elliott uncovers before I say anything else on the subject.”

Taking the hint we change the subject and it is not too long before Michael arranges for next week’s session before taking his leave and bidding us good night with a vigorous hand shake. As we tidy up the kitchen and living room all I can think about is my head hitting the pillow, Elliott must have seen the tiredness etched on my face because he tells me to go on up, have a shower and go to bed. I need no second telling, I never do hear him coming to bed and crawling in beside me.

I wake up the following morning to the smell of coffee and warm croissants wafting up the stairs. Mmm my favourite way to wake up on a Sunday! I am still smiling to myself when the figure of Elliott enters the room carefully carrying a tray of croissants and two large mugs of steaming coffee. He was a sight for sore eyes, wearing just a pair of white boxers and with his hair still sleep tousled all the reasons why I love him so much come flooding back.

“Morning sleepyhead.” he greets me with a heart warming smile.

“Mmm... come back to bed, I’ve got a little something for you, I think you might like it.” I murmur in the most seductive tone I can manage.

“Ugh Ugh! I’m not falling for that one! I’ve got plans for us today which I will tell you about over breakfast, if I let you have your wicked way we won’t have time to fit it all in which will then put me behind.” He retorted in tone he reserved for when he had a goal and didn’t want to be diverted from it.

Deciding the game was over I sat up in bed, smoothed the duvet straight and took the tray offered to me while Elliott climbed in beside me. While I sipped my coffee and ate my croissants (trying hard not to spill any crumbs) I took in the itinerary for the day, Elliott had decided that there was no time like the present to start his researching and as today was Sunday this was going to be the only day we would be together all day before the next session. He had been busy preparing a packed lunch and had got our walking gear out along with a large scale map of Exeter and the surrounding areas. Having cleared away the breakfast things he unfurled the map and asked me to study it paying particular attention to the river and the smaller villages rather than Exeter itself.

“Why?” I asked.

“Well Exeter as it is today wouldn’t have existed; at most it would only have been a village no bigger than the others in the area. From what I can remember from your first regression you said that you were heading for Exeter so obviously you hadn’t got there yet. I was hoping that by looking at the river, assuming its course hasn’t changed too much over the years that you may recognise a place name or area and we start to narrow down the site where the battle happened and perhaps even your fort.” Elliott sounded ever the optimist.

“Sounds logical to me I guess except that you have to remember I was only eighteen years old at the time and sightseeing wouldn’t have been the highest of my priorities.”

“Well give it a go, we’ve got nothing to lose except a couple of hours walking exercise and who knows we might actually find something.”

Having studied the map for about twenty minutes the only suggestion I could make was that we find somewhere to park just outside of Exeter and walk upstream away from it and hope that the scenery jogs a memory or two. Without further ado we got dressed, shaved, put on our walking gear picked up our packed lunch and jumped into our car. For some reason I felt a sense of excitement, perhaps it was the possibility that I might just be taking the first steps to obtaining evidence of my previous life.

We decided to park at Exeter University as the campus car park is huge and nobody would recognise our little car parked there for a few hours. Walking down through the University and over the main road I can see the River Exe in front of me and my excitement levels rise considerably like a child seeing the seaside for the first time. Elliott does his best to rein me in and keeps the conversation flowing to distract me and also to discreetly quiz me over my memories of the area.

After half a mile or so the river splits into two, the river Exe off to the right and the river Yeo to the left.

“Which way do you want to go?” Elliott asks.

“I don’t know.” I reply frowning “I don’t recognise this stretch at all but my gut feeling is to follow the right hand branch which according to the map is the river Exe.”

“Right, it is then.”

We follow the twisting turning river banks, taking in the scenery and holding hands like boys out on a big adventure for the first time. The river splits again, this time instead of staying with the river Exe I again choose the right hand branch which is the river Culm. On and on we walk but still nothing triggers any memories. I can feel my optimism beginning to wane, or is that just my hunger grumbling within? I express my feelings to Elliott who in an attempt to keep my spirits up points out that Stoke Canon is within half a mile and he’s heard that there is a decent pub there; perhaps we might like to stop for a pint and have a sandwich? The mention of a pint does the trick and miraculously my pace picks up and sure enough, the town bridge looms in sight and we climb up the steps leaving the river behind for the time being. Sitting in the beer garden of the nearest pub we take our time to study the map again, just to see if anything jogs my memory but nope, dead as a dodo, nothing springs to mind. Finishing the last mouthful of sandwich and downing my beer I return our plates and glasses to the bar before rejoining Elliott at the front of the pub where he is talking to an elderly couple also dressed up for walking. As I approach they look over and the lady smiles and wishes me good luck in my quest. I thank her politely and then once they have walked on turn to ask Elliott what had been discussed in my absence.

“Oh, nothing much really, I had simply asked if they knew the local area and if there were any sites of historical interest near here. I am pleased to say that there are, both Roman and Celtic ruins have been found and they gave me a quick resume on what they knew. It all looks very promising, I must say. Please don’t ask me for further information, I would like to keep that to myself because I don’t want to colour your perceptions of the area and we want to have your genuine reactions if or when you come across anything which triggers a memory.”

This sounded reasonable to me, so I simply nodded in agreement and followed him back to the river and we continued on our journey upstream. For what seems an eternity we walk on and I am beginning to think this is going to be a complete waste of time, when turning a bend in the river I see something which stops me in my tracks. To my right is the gentle sloping flanks of a hill, I am filled with both a sense of dread and of elation all mixed up into one jumbled mess. It takes Elliott a moment to realise that I am not walking beside him; he stops, looks over his shoulder at me.

“Have we seen something of interest?” He asks with a twinkle lighting up his eyes.

“Perhaps” I answer vaguely. “The hill to our right seems familiar and I know that I haven’t been here before or seen pictures of it, perhaps if we walk on a bit further I will see if there is anything more I can pick up on.”

We carry on walking, all the time I am getting a clearer picture of the landmark in front of me, it has a distinct peak which keeps drawing my attention and urging me to climb towards it. At the same time the sense of dread is growing stronger becoming more like fear with every step. Finally I can bear it no longer and announce to Elliott that I have to get off this path immediately and that I want to climb up to the peak of the hill where we will be safe.

“Safe from what?” Elliott asks with concern showing clearly on his face.

“Them.” Is all I say and march off heading directly across the grassy meadow to the wooded slopes above.

Elliott runs to catch up with me but with the pace I am setting and the uneven ground beneath our feet he is unable to question me further. My sense of fear and dread slowly fade as I make my way up the slopes towards the peak; the wooded area was deceptive, from a distance it appeared thick but close up it was far more open and in fact looked more like a managed estate than wildwood. When I had reached the summit I could see why, for in the distance I could see a large mansion surrounded by ornate gardens and beyond that the open woodlands which extended nearly to the hill top. Only the very top was left open and windswept. At last I stopped marching and with a satisfied grin on my face I slowly turned 360 degrees absorbing the panorama before me. Elliott stood beside me silently taking in the view too before asking

“How do you feel now?”

“Contented. At home. Nostalgic. Sad. Happy. All these emotions wrapped up together. It’s hard to describe really.”

“How about hungry? I’m starving and we’ve got a full packed lunch to eat yet!” Elliott announced as he shucked his backpack and sat down on the grass.

“Now that you mention it, I could eat a horse. All that walking burns sure builds up an appetite.” I agree and sit down next to him.

For the next half an hour we sit and eat the food we had brought with us in relaxed silence, both lost in thought but at the same time enjoying each other’s company.

“Do you know what?” I said, giving him a thoughtful look. “There is nowhere in the world that I want to be except by your side, always.”

Looking me straight in the eye, with a serious expression for once Elliott replied

“I believe you. I feel the same way too. I have a gut feeling that this isn’t the first time we have felt this way before either.”

“Really? Does that mean you are beginning to believe what I have been saying during my regression sessions?”

“Well let’s just say that I am less doubtful and more confident that I will find concrete evidence to support your claims. When we get back I will be starting my research in earnest, I just wanted to know what today would bring before I began. Now before we head home there is just one more experiment I need to carry out. So if you don’t mind please lay down on the grass, on your back with your hands behind your head and close your eyes – don’t open them until I say so.”